In addition to this there were men working between the city and Creekdale as well as along the road leading up-river, putting large poles in place for the electric wires.  These poles had been run down the brook and then floated to various places along the river.  In this way the work was facilitated.  Everything had been well planned, and it seemed as if nothing had been overlooked.  Though David could not visit the falls, yet he and Betty often sat by the road and watched the workmen as they dug the deep holes, erected the poles and strung the wires.

One beautiful morning as they came to the road, they saw a man not far off busily sketching a clump of white birch trees a short distance away.  So intent was he upon his work that he did not appear to notice the two who were watching him with undisguised curiosity.

“Who is he?” David whispered, fearful lest he should disturb the man.

“He must be that artist who came yesterday,” Betty replied.  “He has a little tent over there,” and she pointed to the right.  “I saw him fixing it up yesterday and it looks so cosy.  He spoke to me as I came by and seemed to be very friendly.”

“And you say that he is an artist?” David enquired.

“Yes.  Don’t you see him painting now?  He told me that he wants to get some pictures of this beautiful place.”

“He must see the falls, girl,” and David rose from his sitting position.  “There is nothing here to equal it, and how nice it would be to have a picture before too great a change takes place up there.”

“Suppose we tell him about it,” Betty suggested, now much interested in the idea.  “Come, I will introduce you.”

As the two approached, the artist rose to his feet and lifted his hat.

“Why, it’s my little visitor of yesterday,” he pleasantly remarked.  “I didn’t expect to meet you so soon again.  Is this your grandfather?”

“Oh, no,” and Betty laughed heartily.  “This is Mr. David, and I am looking after him.”

“I am glad to meet you, sir,” and the stranger held out his hand.  “I have only arrived lately and of course do not know any of the people here, so you will pardon my mistake.”

“It doesn’t matter, I assure you,” David replied.  “Betty is really a daughter to me, so it was no mistake after all.  But I hope we have not interrupted you.”

“Not at all.  I am not doing much this morning, just getting my bearings, as it were.  But you have a wonderful view from this hill.  I am hoping to get some excellent pictures.  I wish I had known of this beautiful spot before.”

“Wait until you see the falls,” David eagerly replied.  “You will find something worth while there.”

“Is it far from here?” the artist enquired.

“Oh, no.  You can easily find it.  There is a good road there now which has been made by the new company.”

“Is that the place where the light and power are to come from, of which I have heard so much?”