In vain Mrs. Ward tried to soothe him with reassuring words, pleading with him to be calm.
"I know they're after me," he raved. "They have tried all sorts of tricks. There is always some sneaking spy watching for a chance to get me, but I'll fix them. I built the business up and I can tear it down. Let them try to take anything away from me if they dare. I'll burn the Mill and the whole town before I'll give up one cent of my legal rights to Pete Martin or any of his tribe."
Forgetting his companion, the man suddenly started off across the grounds, waving his arms and shaking his fists in wild gestures as he continued his tirade against his old fellow workman. Mrs. Ward knew from experience the uselessness of trying to interfere until he had exhausted himself.
As Helen was returning to the house after her talk with the children, she saw her mother coming slowly from that part of the grounds where the young woman had watched her father. It was evident, even at a distance, that Mrs. Ward was greatly distressed. When the young woman reached her mother's side, Mrs. Ward said, simply, "Your father, dear--he is terribly upset. Go to him, Helen, you can always do more for him than any one else--he needs you."
It was not an easy task for Helen Ward to face her father just then. As she went in search of him she tried to put from her mind all that she had seen and to remember only that he was ill. She found him in the most distant and lonely part of the grounds, sitting with his face buried in his hands--a figure of hopeless despair.
While still some distance away, she forced herself to call cheerily, "Hello, father."
As he raised his head, she turned to pick a few flowers from a near-by bed. When he had had a moment to regain, in a measure, his self-control, she went toward him, arranging her blossoms with careful attention.
Adam Ward watched his daughter as she drew near, much as a condemned man might have watched through the grating of a prison window.
"What is it, father?" she asked, gently, when she had come close to his side. "Another one of your dreadful nervous headaches?"
He put a shaking hand to his brow. "Yes," he said wearily.
"I am so sorry," she returned, sitting down beside him. "You have been thinking too hard again, haven't you?"