“It’s worth trying for, anyway,” Festing replied.

He was afraid this sounded priggish.  Miss Jardine got up.

“Well, I’m not much of a philosopher and had better put out some of the clothes you brought to dry, although it was thoughtful of you to throw your bag into the bog instead of mine.”

“That was an accident,” Festing declared.  “I meant to throw them both across.”

Miss Jardine picked up the sack.  “There’s nobody else here and a wet evening’s dreary.  I hope you won’t go before I come back.”

“I won’t,” said Festing.  “They have only a deaf tourist and two tired climbers, who seem sleepy and bad-tempered, at the hotel.”

Miss Jardine’s eyes twinkled.  “Well,” she said as she went out, “I suppose it’s a fair retort.”

Festing colored and looked at Helen apologetically.  “You see, I have lived in the woods.”

“I expect that has some advantages,” said Helen, who liked his frank embarrassment.  “However, it was lucky I met you to-day.  You didn’t come back to see us, and there is something——­” She hesitated and then gave him a steady glance.  “You are not so much a stranger to us as you imagine.”

Festing wondered what she meant and whether she knew about the portrait, but she resumed:  “As a matter of fact, my mother and I felt that we knew you rather well.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Some time since, you found a young Englishmen in a Western mining town.  He had been ill and things had gone against him.”

“Ah,” said Festing sharply.  “Of course!  I ought to have known——­He looked like you.  I mean I ought to have known the name.  Was he a relative?”

“My brother,” Helen replied.

She was silent for a moment or two, and then went on in a tone that made Festing’s heart beat:  “You gave him work and helped him to make a new start.  He was too proud to tell us about his difficulties.”

“It cost me nothing; there was a job waiting.  Afterwards he got on by his own merits.  I had nothing to do with that.”

“But you gave him his chance.  We can’t forget this.  George was younger than me.  I have no other brother, and was very fond of him.  Indeed, I think we owe you much, and my mother is anxious to give you her thanks.”

“Is he all right now?  I lost sight of him when they sent me to another part of the road.  It was my fault—­he wrote, but I’m not punctual at answering letters, and hadn’t much time.”

“He is in the chief construction office,” Helen replied.  “In his last letter he told us about the likelihood of his getting some new promotion.”  She paused and resumed with a smile:  “I don’t suppose you know you were a hero of his.”

“I didn’t know.  As a rule, the young men we had on the road seemed to find their bosses amusing and rather patronized them.  Of course, they were fresh from a scientific college or engineer’s office, and, for the most part, we had learned what we knew upon the track.”