pale and almost haggard when he came down with several men from the cities in response to a telegram.  For an hour they moved up and down, watching whirring belt and humming roller, and then, whitened with the dust, stood very intent and quiet while one of them dipped up a little flour from the delivery hopper.  His opinions on, and dealings in, that product were famous in the land.  He said nothing for several minutes, and then brushing the white dust from his hands turned with a little smile to Graham.

“We’ll have some baked, but I don’t know that there’s much use for it.  This will grade a very good first,” he said.  “You can book me the thousand two eighties for a beginning now.”

Winston’s fingers trembled, but there was a twinkle in Graham’s eyes as he brought his hand down on his shoulder.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I was figuring right on this when I brought the champagne along.  It was all I could do, but Imperial Tokay wouldn’t be good enough to rinse this dust down with, when every speck of it that’s on you means dollars by the handful rolling in.”

It was a very contented and slightly hilarious party that went back to the city, but Winston sat down before a shaded lamp with a wet rag round his head when they left him, and bent over a sheaf of drawings until his eyes grew dim.  Then he once more took up a little strip of paper that Graham had given him, and leaned forward with his arms upon the table.  The mill was very silent at last, for of all who had toiled in it that day one weary man alone sat awake, staring, with aching eyes, in front of him.  There was, however, a little smile in them, for roseate visions floated before them.  If the promise that strip of paper held out was redeemed, they might materialize, for those who had toiled and wasted their substance that the eastern peoples might be fed would that year, at least, not go without their reward.  Then he stretched out his arms wearily above his head.

“It almost seems that what I have hoped for may be mine,” he said.  “Still, there is a good deal to be done first, and not two hours left before I begin it to-morrow.”

CHAPTER XXVII

REINSTATEMENT

A year of tireless effort and some anxiety had passed since Winston had seen the first load of flour sent to the east, when he and Graham sat talking in their Winnipeg office.  The products of the St. Louis mills were already in growing demand, and Graham appeared quietly contented as he turned over the letters before him.  When he laid down the last one, however, he glanced at his companion somewhat anxiously.

“We have got to fix up something soon,” he said.  “I have booked all the St. Louis can turn out for six months ahead, and the syndicate is ready to take the business over, though I don’t quite know whether it would be wise to let them.  It seems to me that milling is going to pay tolerably well for another year, and if I knew what you were wanting, it would suit me better.”