Colonel Stoddard protested. “A few such failures — if it fails — would put a heavy drain on the Harvest.”

“That’s what the Harvest needs,” Dick answered lightly.

Colonel Stoddard looked blank.

“Precisely,” Dick confirmed. “Drainage, you know. The mines are flooded — the Mexican situation.”

It was during the morning of the second day — the day of Graham’s expected return — that Dick, who, by being on horseback at eleven, had avoided a repetition of the hurt of the previous day’s “Good morning, merry gentleman” across the distance of his workroom, encountered Ah Ha in a hall with an armful of fresh-cut lilacs. The house-boy’s