"Ah," Mrs. Alden chuckled, "I have a vision of you growing meek andmild."

They talked desultorily as the launch thrashed along. Alden's professiontook him to all corners of the earth. That was why the winter of Fyfe'shoneymoon had not made them acquainted. Alden and his wife were then inSouth America. This visit was to fill in the time before the departureof a trans-Pacific liner which would land the Aldens at Manila.

Presently the Abbey-Monohan camp and bungalow lay abeam. Stella toldMrs. Alden something of the place.

"That reminds me," Mrs. Alden turned to her brother. "I was very sure Isaw Walter Monohan board a train while we were waiting for the scorchingel carin Hopyard. I heard that he was in timber out here. Is he this Monohan?"

Fyfe nodded.

"How odd," she remarked, "that you should be in the same region. Do youstill maintain the ancient feud?"

Fyfe shot her a queer look.

"We've grown up, Dolly," he exclaimed drily. Then: "Do you expect to get backto God's country short of a fortnight, Alden?"