“Where do you want to go to, and what do you want to do?”

“I want to go to college an’ learn to be an engineer.”

“An engineer!  What, to run an engine on the railroad?”

“No, not that.  I want to be a civil engineer, to build bridges, an’ do sich things.  I’d like it better’n anything else.”

“Why don’t you, then?  Won’t your father let you?”

“No.  He thinks it’s all nonsense.  He says he’s raisin’ me to take charge of this boat some day.  But, gee whiz, he’s countin’ on the wrong chicken.  Anyway, by the time dad’s done sailin’ this boat, it’ll be fit fer the scrap heap.”

“Why do you want to be a civil engineer?” the girl asked.  “Do you know anything about the work?”

“Y’ bet I do,” and Eben smacked his lips.  “I’ve been studyin’ bridges fer years, ’specially the one across the falls.  I’ve a lot of drawin’s of it.  Would ye like to see ’em?”

“Indeed I should,” was the interested reply.  “I used to draw some myself.”

“Ye did!” Eben looked at the girl in admiration.  “I never met anyone before who could draw.  Hope ye won’t make fun of my scrawls.”

“Certainly not.  You don’t think I would do such a thing, do you?”

Eben made no reply as he was already on his feet, groping with his right hand upon a shelf over his bunk.  In a few minutes he brought down a well worn scribbler, opened it, and laid it with pride upon the table.

“There’s my drawin’s,” he began.  “No one but meself ever sot eyes upon ’em before.”

“You didn’t even show them to your parents or sister?” the girl asked in surprise, as she looked upon the first drawing presented to view.

“Indeed I didn’t.  They’d only make fun of me if I did.  I hate to be laughed at, don’t you?  It riles one all up.”

“It does sometimes,” the girl acknowledged.  “But, then, it is better not to mind what people say or do, but just go on with our work.  Why, what nice drawings you have here.  I can hardly believe you did them yourself without anyone to teach you.”

Eben made no reply, but his eyes shone with complete satisfaction.  The girl was seated at the table and he was standing by her side.  A thrill of joy possessed him such as he had never experienced before.  This beautiful girl appreciated his drawings, and that was enough.

The sketches were crude, but they showed considerable signs of promise, and this Jess realised as she carefully examined them.  One bridge, especially, arrested her attention, the one which spanned the falls.

“You must have made a long study of this,” she remarked, “I recognised it at once.”

“I did, Miss.  I spent a whole day there once, an’ every time we go under it I see something new.  I ain’t got it quite right yit.”

For a few minutes the girl examined the drawings without speaking.  There was a far-away look in her eyes when at length she pushed the book a little from her.