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Updated: June 9, 2025
Crawford and ran on, no doubt meant to be adoring and certainly was very soft, to Argyl and Conniston was seized with a sudden desire to take the ingratiating Roger Hapgood by the back of the collar and kick him upon the seat of his beautifully fitting trousers. "Good evening, Mr. Crawford. I ran in on a little business for Mr. Winston. Ah, Miss Argyl! So glad to see you."
"To-morrow," Conniston was saying to Argyl, just as Tommy Garton called to Wallace to put his hands up, "we are going to open the gates at Dam Number One, and the water will run down into the main canal and find its way to Valley City. I think we have won, Argyl!"
I don't care if he has got red hair and can't read! I love him so there!" Lonesome Pete, coming back with his armful of firewood, dropped it, and for a moment stood staring from one to another, his mouth wide open. And then, forgetful of Conniston, pushing Argyl away as he came forward, he took Jocelyn's quivering form into his arms and drew her close to him.
"I just love you to death. And," holding him away from her and smiling brightly at him, "I don't think that it is necessary. I slapped him hard!" Conniston came back into the room. Argyl was speaking swiftly, emphatically. "Mr. Hapgood has just done me the honor to ask me to marry him. He told me that he had acquainted Mr. Conniston with his intentions, so it is no secret.
When he had been with the outfit for three weeks Conniston began to feel confident that he could perform the part of the day's work which was allotted to him. His muscles had begun to harden so that they no longer ached and throbbed day and night. Then one morning he saw Argyl Crawford.
Moaning hysterically, she ran to Argyl! "Argyl, Argyl," she cried, stopping abruptly, her two hands pressed to her breast, "I am so wretched! I don't deserve to live! I have been so mean, so little " She broke off into passionate weeping. Argyl went swiftly to her, putting her arms about the girl's shaking shoulders. "Jocelyn, dear," she said, softly. "Don't!" "I have been wicked, wicked!"
And the thing which had been a curse to Bat Truxton, which had hurled him downward from his leadership of men, which had threatened to wreck the hopes of the Great Work, brought Argyl back from the last boundaries of the thing called Life, back from the misty frontiers of the thing called Death to which she was journeying. Her eyes opened, she stared at him, her eyes closed again.
Conniston saw that Argyl Crawford was standing at her father's side and that she was smiling; he saw that Hapgood was laughing openly. And then he turned and strode on after his guide, conscious that the blood was creeping up into his face and at the same time that he could not "back down."
"And so," he went on, quietly, "since the whole work has been your work, I want the completion of the work to be yours. Look here, Argyl." He touched a long, slender lever reaching from the flume to the bank where they stood. "When the sun comes up it is going to bring a new day for all of us," he continued, slowly. "A new day which, for me, you have made possible.
Conniston, his socks washed and now dripping, turned away from the stream and came to the clothes-line running from the corner of the low building to a tree sixty feet away. "Hey, you, Conniston," Brayley called to him. "You're jest the man I'm lookin' for. Saddle Dandy for Miss Argyl an' take him up to the house for her. An' take your own hoss along. She wants you to go with her."
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