“Can you raise money enough to buy this whole valley?” asked Rupert seriously.

“Yes; I could get it.”

“Then I am going to propose something to you.”

Whereupon Rupert pointed out that the rich bench lands on each side of the river could be brought under cultivation, and crops secured every year by bringing the water from the stream in canals, and watering, or irrigating them.  Mr. Janson listened with wonder at Rupert’s description of Dry-bench reservoir, and how simple it would be to construct canals by which to water Chamogo valley.

“This valley can be made to support a good-sized population,” said Rupert.  “By securing the land and digging canals to it, and then selling it out in farms again—­well, if you don’t make a hundred per cent on your investment, I am mistaken.”

They had many talks on the scheme, and at last it was decided to try it.  Rupert would supervise the construction of the canals.  He would remain during the winter, do what work could be done before the snow came, and then continue the work in the spring.

The land was secured at a small outlay.  The canal was surveyed and a little digging was done that fall.  When the snow came, Rupert rode twenty-one miles to the county seat, took the teachers’ examination, received a certificate, and obtained the Chamogo district school for the winter.  It was a new experience for him, and a trying one at first.  The big boys came to school to get out of the storm, and incidentally, to learn something of the three R’s.  They were often wild, but Rupert managed them without doing any “licking,” the usual mode of discipline.  He now wrote to his sister Nina, and told her that he was located for the winter; that he expected to get back to Willowby, but not for a time.

So the winter months passed.  Rupert studied his own lessons when he was not preparing for his day’s work.  He made frequent visits to the Jansons, though it was a good three miles’ drive.  He was always received as a friend, and, indeed, was treated as one of the family.

Was it strange that a tie should grow between Rupert Ames and Signe Dahl?  Was it anything out of the way that Rupert’s trips became more frequent, and that the fair-haired Norwegian looked longingly down the road for the school-master’s horse?

Rupert did not try to deceive himself.  It had been a year only since his experience with Virginia Wilton.  He had thought that he never would get over that, but even now he could look back on it with indifference, yes, even with thankfulness.  This love which seemed to be coming to him was different from that first experience.  He could not explain this difference, but he knew that it existed.  Rupert had no misgivings.  Signe did not thrill him, did not hold him spell-bound with her presence.  No; it was only a calm, sweet assurance that she was a good girl, that he loved her, and that she thought well of him.  Their conversations were mostly