She took his great toil-worn hand, and her hot tears fell on it, for
his gentleness, his benignancy, had touched her deeply. "Oh, you must
not tell anybody! You mustn't," she cried.

He put his hand on her shoulder as she knelt before him. "Good land
of love, girl, what made you do it? Why should a girl like you give a
hundred thousand dollars for my Valley of the Giants? Were you"--
hesitatingly--"your uncle's agent?"

"No, I bought it myself--with my own money. My uncle doesn't know I
am the new owner. You see, he wanted it--for nothing."

"Ah, yes. I suspected as much a long time ago. Your uncle is the
modern type of business man. Not very much of an idealist, I'm
afraid. But tell me why you decided to thwart the plans of your
relative."

"I knew it hurt you terribly to sell your Giants; they were dear to
you for sentimental reasons. I understood, also, why you were forced
to sell; so I--well, I decided the Giants would be safer in my
possession than in my uncle's. In all probability he would have
logged this valley for the sake of the clear seventy-two-inch boards
he could get from these trees."

"That does not explain satisfactorily, to me, why you took sides with
a stranger against your own kin," John Cardigan persisted. "There
must be a deeper and more potent reason, Miss Shirley Sumner."

"Well," Shirley made answer, glad that he could not see the flush of
confusion and embarrassment that crimsoned her cheek, "when I came to