"Glory be! You-all war givin' Mis' Brewster fits wid no sign of hide nor hair sence yistermorn!" cried Sary, rushing out of the kitchen door, the moment she heard the horses' hoof-beats.

Mrs. Brewster heard Sary and also ran out, crying, "Oh, my dear children! We've had such a day! Sam just went to the barn to hook up and start the ranchers on a hunt! A trapper rode in this morning and spoke of the awful blizzard that hit Top Notch Trail. Of course, we knew you couldn't find that or we'd have been still more worried!"

The girls looked at each other and laughed aloud. Mrs. Brewster shrewdly guessed the truth.

"Did you find it? And where under the sun did you hide during that awful storm?" cried she, anxiously.

Sary paid no attention to a recital of trails and storms, however, for it was half past four and Jeb would have to take care of the five mounts before he could hope to come in for supper, and spend a quiet evening with her. So, to prevent any delay, she turned to Polly.

"You-all 'pear to be tuckered out! Jest flop inter the cheers an' rest whiles Ah carry the hosses to th' barn. Ah'll tell Mr. Brewster like-ez-how you-all come home, an' spared him a trip!"

Mrs. Brewster objected to the offer for she wanted Sary to finish the preparations for supper and give her time to talk with the girls. Sary, however, paid no attention to her mistress's objections but gathered all the reins together and led the animals to the barn.

Shortly after the girls had gone indoors to drink some hot milk—for Mrs. Brewster said hot milk would take most of the fatigue out of their bodies—Sam Brewster ran down the path from the barn, and burst into the living-room.

"Well, say! Ah shore am glad to see you-all back home! Ah just was preparing to wire some detectives to be on the lookout in the Zoo for any lions or bears lately come in who looked unusually well-fed!"

Every one was so delighted at the reunion that Mr. Brewster's foolishness made them laugh merrily. He hugged Polly until she cried for breath, then he shook hands over and over again with Anne and the girls, Mrs. Brewster, remonstrating meantime, that she wanted to hear of their adventures!

The girls were so eager to tell about the cavern of gold that they refused to wash and dress, or remove any stains of the climb, until after the whole story was told.

Mr. and Mrs. Brewster thought it was the tale of the trip and the trials throughout the blizzard, and they cared little for what had passed as long as all were safe and happy again. But Polly blurted out the truth to make them listen.

"I found Montresor's gold mine, Paw!"

It hit the mark! In the shock the news made upon the Brewsters, no one noticed Polly's slip on the old pet title. After a long tense period of silence, however, Sam Brewster said: "Daughter, it can't be true!"

"'Tis, though, Mr. Brewster! Polly and I crawled through the tunnel until we came out into that marvelous cavern of gold," and Eleanor sighed audibly as she thought of that sight.

"What cavern! You-all must be clean locoed with the blizzard and the long ride!" cried Mr. Brewster, testily.

The girls laughed appreciatively, for they understood just how those who remained at home would feel at such news!

So Polly sat upon her father's knee and told him the story of the mine, from the time Choko fell over the cliff until they left the panther at the foot of the tree.

"And here's the plan and claim, and there's the gold!"

Polly drew the nuggets from her dress and took the papers from her sombrero, and placed them in her father's hands.

Mrs. Brewster dropped upon her knees to the floor to look at the map and the ore, while her husband was examining the large nugget. The four girls had no idea how anxious they were about this ore until they saw Mr. Brewster carefully looking it over with the eye of an expert miner.

His first words were a decided shock.

"Ah wouldn't set much store about this mine, girls! You-all don't see what Ah see in this discovery. It's gold—yes, it looks to me like red-gold of good quality, and if it is as you say—a cavern exposed so any one can value it off-hand, so much the better! But, the end of Top Notch Trail, where you doubtless spent the night, is a far haul from Oak Creek, and the chasm in front, and the mountain on top, are drawbacks to mining. However, we will ride into Oak Creek in the morning and file this claim of yours and see if it comes anywhere near to being the one old Montresor left, Polly. It would give me the keenest joy to be able to say something to a few of the mean old rascals about Oak Creek, who called me a fool for paying the funeral costs and filing the claim of that kind old man, Montresor!"

"But, Dad—father! If this mine happens to cross the claim staked by
Mr. Montresor, will it interfere with our filing a new claim?" asked
Polly, anxiously.

"It depends on how much ground you covered with your corners!" replied her father.

"You can depend upon it, I covered all I could think might come within a mile of gold!" laughed Polly.

"Well, girls, listen to some good advice on this! Not a word to be said about this cave—not even among yourselves until the claim is filed and investigated! You see, the walls have ears when any one speaks of gold! Then, having attended to the legal aspects of the mine, we will all ride over to remain a few days, as visitors to Old Mr. Grizzly! When we get back we ought to have some information worth while!"

"And what about sending for John's friend to come and go with us? If he knew enough to tell you about the lava, he will surely be able to judge about the gold!" ventured Polly, eagerly.

"I think that is a splendid idea, Sam! When we go in to Oak Creek to-morrow, let us send John a day-letter explaining about this cavern," added Mrs. Brewster.

"Hain't you-all comin' to supper? Har hev Ah ben and wukked all day hopin' fer a night off to-night!" said Sary, suddenly appearing at the doorway between the living-room and the kitchen.

Every one started for she had not made a sound before speaking, so no one knew how much she had over-heard. Mrs. Brewster quickly replied, however.

"Why, Sary! I didn't know you wished to go out! I could have attended to supper myself, had you asked me!"

"Ah hain't planned to go out—Ah said a 'night off,' Mis' Brewster," said Sary, hardly deigning to wait for an answer, but looking at the girls with an impatient frown.

"Mother, we really must wash before supper!" said Polly.

Sary tossed her head. Mrs. Brewster knew what that meant, so she urged the girls to forego any lengthy toilets and merely wash away the worst signs of travel.

Sary was pacified when Eleanor came out of the room and handed her a large paper bundle.

"Sary, I have a little present for you because we made so much trouble to-night."

"Oh, Miss Nolla, Ah'm much obleeged t' you-all. Ah don' mind trouble, onny yoh see Ah expec' comp'ny to-night."

It took Sary but an instant to open the package and when she beheld a ruffled organdy dress discarded by Barbara the previous season and accidentally packed in the trunk with other clothes, she rolled her eyes heavenward.

"Miss Nolla! Is this fine gown'd fer me?"

Eleanor stifled a laugh but Sary made as if she would clasp the girl in her powerful arms, so discretion was needed. Eleanor backed behind the kitchen chair.

"Miss Nolla, Ah wonder ef a widder of seven months' standin' mought wear little yaller rose-buds on a dress, like-ez-how this is?"

"Certainly, Sary," came from Mrs. Brewster, who now joined the two. "It's not the color or quantity of clothes as much as the sincerity of one's mourning."

Quite unintentionally, Mrs. Brewster touched upon a tender spot. In fact, so tender was it, that Sary blamed Bill for having died so recently instead of two years back. She might have now been ending her second year of mourning!

Eleanor being trained to the wiles of polite society, saw and understood Sary's flash of resentment, so she turned to Mrs. Brewster with the remark:

"I've heard said, that the highest regard a widow can pay her departed, is, to take a second husband. It speaks well for her happiness with the first one, you see."

Mrs. Brewster stared at Eleanor but Sary smirked and quickly replied:

"You-all is right, Miss Nolla! A widder what hez ben so happy that she gits lonesome whiles thinkin' of her departed, hez a right t' find a second husban'."

Mrs. Brewster choked a laugh as she saw the sublime look in the help's eyes, and hurried out. Eleanor then suggested:

"Now you run away and beautify yourself, Sary, and I will wash the dishes to-night."

Sary needed no second invitation and in another moment she had disappeared to her "boudoir" back of the buttery.

Eleanor was as good as her word, for she was soon busy with dish-water and mop, rattling the china, and banging pans about as if noise and bustle were sure signs of hard work and energy. Polly laughed as she cleared away the remains of the meal and then caught up a towel to dry the dishes. As they worked the two girls talked.

"Poll, now that you have this gold mine, what will you do with all the wealth that is yours?" asked Eleanor.

Polly held a decorated plate in front of her face to hide her smile, and pretended to be looking for grease on its surface. When she had straightened her face again, she said: "Oh, I'm going away to school, first of all. I'm not so sure that I want to stay in Denver, now that you have told me all about Chicago. I'll write for catalogues of schools there; and then I can see John quite often during the school year."

"Just what I would have suggested, Poll! Then you can live at home with me. Dad and you and I will have the best times!"

To accentuate her approval of Polly's premature plans, Eleanor swished the dish-mop wildly up and down in the soapy water, but the suds flew up lightly, as soapsuds will, and a bubble burst in Polly's eye.

"Oo-h! Stop throwing dish water in my face, Nolla!" cried Polly, with eyes screwed shut and one free hand trying to rub the smarting lye from her eye.

"I never did, Polly! It must have splashed accidentally when I was washing the pan."

"You have done nothing since you began the dishes, but rattle and swash that mop about in the pan as if you were mining the ore from the cave," complained Polly, as she managed to open her eyes again.

"I suppose it is because we are so excited over the find, and all it means for you, Polly," explained Eleanor, contritely.

"It doesn't mean much more, now, than before. The thing I am most happy over, is that Old Man Montresor will be vindicated, and people will stop jeering at me, and at what they called his locoed ideas."

The conversation was interrupted at this moment by the appearance of Sary. She first poked her head from the partly opened door of her room and then said: "Is any one about to see me?"

Polly turned to make sure that they were alone in the kitchen, and
Eleanor replied: "No, what is it, Sary?"

Then the maid stepped forth and such a vision! She had curled her red hair on a pair of old-fashioned tongs. The curling irons were but a quarter of an inch in diameter and they were heated by thrusting them into the living embers of the kitchen fire. When Sary drew the comb through her scanty tresses they took on the appearance of carrot-colored cotton threads which had just been ripped out of an old garment—so crinkly and frizzed were the strands of hair. The flowered organdy dress that Eleanor had given Sary to wear for the great occasion of receiving a caller, was much too small for the buxom widow, and she was in great distress about it. This brought her out to ask advice of the girls.

"Why bother to wear the dress, Sary, until you have had time to alter it for yourself?" asked Polly.

"Why, Polly! Ah has to keep up my looks now that comp'ny is lookin' my way again. Ef you-all hadn't such fine city gals at home, what wears th' latest fashions so that Jeb can't help but see what's what, Ah woulden' have to worry so much about looks. But a woman has to keep up when other women set the pace, 'specially ef she is a widow, like-as-how Ah am now."

Eleanor laughed appreciatively and said: "Sary is just like Bob, when it comes to that! It is the eternal feminine, Poll, that drives both Bob and Sary to the verge of tears, because they cannot catch their beaux with their good looks."

Sary smirked self-consciously at Eleanor's words, for she thought she was being coupled with Barbara and her attractions. Sary felt quite sure that she was good-looking and winsome, but she had to hear Eleanor's words to make her believe she was fascinating.

"If I was Sary, I'd wear a nice clean blouse and a linen skirt. It would be far more comfortable than that awfully tight gown," remarked Polly.

But the help scorned such simplicity and turned to Eleanor for further advice about her appearance. The latter, wise in her years, turned her head on one side and appeared to be debating.

"Seems to me, Sary, that putting on that organdy just as it is, without fixing it over a bit, may make Jeb suspicious of its not being made for you. He may even go so far as to wonder if Bob handed it down to you. Now you do not want him to dream that you did not have it made to order for yourself, so why not take it off until you can remodel it to fit yourself, like new?"

Sary pondered this suggestion for a few moments, and then said: "Ah ain't got no fancy dress to wear, onny this, Miss Nolla. Ef Ah puts on my black alpaky, he'll remember 'bout Bill, and sech memories allus dampen a man's plans to pop th' question."

Both girls had to laugh outright at the unexpected confession; but Sary was in a serious frame of mind and paid no attention to their merriment. She resumed her interrupted explanation.

"It's jest this way, in Oak Crick country, you-all see! Single men ain't growin' on every bush, and a widder has a hard time of it, anyway, when most ranchers' dawters are waitin' to snap up a likely catch. Jeb's a catch, Ah says. He ain't a gallavantin' dude, ner he ain't spendin' all his wages on gamblin' at Red Mike's saloon. Ah've learned like-as-how being right on th' spot when a man's willin' to be cotched, is more'n half the fight to hook him. Ah kin afford to snap mah fingers at all them ranch gals about Oak Crick, tryin' their bestes to make Jeb wink his eye at 'em, jus' because Ah am whar Ah am keepin' tabs on him, all his time."

When the laughter caused by these words had subsided, somewhat, the two girls replied: Polly to advise and Eleanor to make a giggling explanation.

Eleanor said: "You make a wonderfully accurate time-clock on Jeb's comings and goings, Sary."

And Polly advised: "You run back to your room, Sary, and put on a sensible dress to keep Jeb from wondering how much of his earnings it would take to dress you in fine clothes like that organdy gown cost."

"Thar's somethin' in that, too, Polly! Ah reckon you're right, so Ah'll throw on that striped shirt-waist your Maw gave me, and the duck skirt with the tucks in it."

Sary vanished as quickly as she had appeared, and the two girls stood laughing as they saw the bed-room door close. Then they dried the dish-pan, hung up the towels and mop, and turned to go back to the living-room where Sam Brewster and his wife were planning for the ride to Oak Creek on the next day, and the trip up to the cave, on the day following that.

But the girls had not reached the living-room door before a "hist" halted them. They turned in the direction of the sound and saw Jeb's small head at the kitchen door. When he saw that he had gained their attention, he beckoned furtively with a horny index finger.

Both girls tip-toed over to hear what news he had to impart, for his behavior denoted some dread secret.

"Is Sary Dodd hangin' 'round?" he whispered, anxiously.

"She's in her room getting ready for company," was Eleanor's amused reply.

"Wall, you-all kin do me a big favor ef you-all explain like-as-how Ah was too sick to come in, to-night. She tol' me Ah jus' had to call on her, to-night, but Ah ain't got courage. Ah kin see jus' whar all this callin' and sittin' alone of evenin's, is goin' to land me. Sary Dodd's got a powerful way for a woman, and Ah ain't no marryin' man—am Ah, Polly?"

Jeb's plaintive tone and his beseeching eyes convulsed Eleanor with the desire to laugh, but Polly saw how serious he was, in his fear of being caught by a woman's wiles, and she replied:

"No, Jeb; you are not a marrying man, I can say that much. And Sary ought to know better than to lure you on with all her past experiences of mankind."

Polly's earnest explanation made Eleanor lose control of herself and she sat down in a kitchen chair and laughed so heartily that Sary hurried forth. Jeb instantly ducked and tried to lose himself in the dense darkness of the out-of-doors, but Sary was too quick for him.

She darted to the door, called him with an imperative voice, and brought the recreant back to his duty of calling. Then she turned to the two girls, and said calmly, but with meaning:

"Ah'se much obliged fer th' dish-washin'. Ah'll see that the kitchen is set to rights fer the evenin'."

With this dismissal, Polly and Eleanor had to go, and laughing still, they went through the living-room door to join the others who sat about the round table figuring and planning.

Sary very quietly closed the door between the two rooms, and Eleanor whispered to Polly: "Poor Jeb! We had to leave him to his fate, after all."

By six o'clock the next morning, the riders were on the way to Oak
Creek. Polly and Eleanor rode side by side and discussed a good name
for the claim. After suggesting and rejecting many fine sounding names,
Polly finally chuckled gleefully.

"You've thought of one!" declared Eleanor.

"Yes, just the thing! Won't 'Choko's Find' suit it?"

"Great! And it was little Choko that found it, too. If he hadn't fallen over the cliff we never would have discovered the cave and the rest of it."

"We'll call it that—'Choko's Find!' Say, everybody! Listen to this:
The mine is going to be called 'Choko's Find'—do you like it?" called
Polly to the other riders.

"Very appropriate," was the answer, so "Choko's Find" was its name.

Reaching Oak Creek, the party rode to Mr. Simm's office and Mr. Brewster told the story in detail. The attorney was completely silenced at the strangeness of the adventure but demanded proof in seeing the ore before he would credit the tale.

"Well, Ah declare! If this isn't the derndest thing Ah ever heard of in my life!" exclaimed Mr. Simms as he examined the nuggets.

"Simms, do you remember Montresor's nuggets and legacy?" asked Mr.
Brewster.

The lawyer looked quickly up at his questioner and a look of understanding crept into his eyes. "Sam, Ah reckon it is the same!"

"The ledge, the canyon, the trails and the river!" added Mr.
Brewster, convincingly.

"You-all just wait here till Ah get my papers from the Bank vault!" excitedly cried the lawyer, snatching his cap and running out of the office.

"Simms keeps his valuable papers in the masoned safe at the bank, you know. If the town burns down during a miners' celebration some night, his papers will be safe, anyway," explained Mr. Brewster.

The lawyer soon returned with a package held closely under his arm. He sat down and opened the papers before his visitors.

"Here's th' rough plan of the claim and here's Montresor's letter that was found after he was buried—you know, Sam."

"What letter is that, Father?" wondered Polly.

"We never told you about it, as it wouldn't have helped any one then, but now you shall read it."

"Where was it found?"

"In the pocket of an old hunting coat when we tried to find some clew to his family and home address. But the top of the letter had been torn away so we never knew for whom it was meant."

Polly took the closely written sheet and read the letter penned by her old friend on the mountains.

"At last I can say to you all, that my education was not wasted as you claimed. I have made good! I am a rich, rich man, as I write these words. I have discovered a gold mine that will prove to be worth millions. I refrained from writing as you had requested, until I had good news. Now I can write.

"In the years I have spent on these mountains, I felt sure I would strike gold, as every sign in rock and sand formation, of the sides of the peaks, are favorable to gold deposits. To-day I proved my mining education to be of some worth, for it helped to guide me to a ledge, where the red-gold is so rich that it seems to run deep into the rocks, yet quite easy to mine.

"I had great difficulty in reaching the place and, afterwards, when darkness fell over the place, I had to trust to the horse to find a spot to camp. I left my claims staked out and marked as we used to do in the Klondike, and to-morrow morning I shall ride directly to Oak Creek to file the papers and have an assay on the ore. I am now writing by the light of the camp-fire with grizzlies prowling about and panthers howling to get at me and the horse. But my ring of fire is security for us.

"I haven't the slightest idea of where this camp is but I will scout around in the morning and then write you again after I return from my trip to Oak Creek.

"You must understand how happy I am, to be able to pay off my obligations and take my rightful place in the world with my family. God grant that this blessing of wealth bestowed upon me after all these years of separation and disgrace, charged against me, who am innocent, will be the last of my sufferings. I have never heard from the traitorous friend who caused me this ruin, and now it matters little!"

Polly looked up at this point and said:

"He must have finished this after the land-slide, Daddy."

"Yes, daughter: read on and you will see," replied Mr. Brewster, gently.

"The curse still pursues me. I have not written to conclude this letter since the night I started it, as hard luck again is my lot.

"I filed the claim and showed the ore but different laws prevail in Colorado, and I found I must register the nearest survey corners and sections to my mine to obtain a legal ownership; however my plans and specifications were sufficient to protect me from claim-jumpers.

"That afternoon, a storm came over the mountains and lasted three days. It blew, and poured, and snowed, until it seemed as if all the furies in Hades were let loose. Then it cleared again and I started out with my dog and horse to visit my mine and make satisfactory corners and plans for filing.

"A great land-slide had occurred during that storm and the entire mountain-side was changed. Canyons, cliffs, and mine are gone. Wiped away as if they had never existed. Of course, I know the gold is still there but buried under tons of earth and trash. It will take longer and cost more to unearth, that is all.

"But I will have to locate the place anew as I have no bearings to work from, so I propose starting from Top Notch Trail and have Patsy help me find it on the down-side, as near as I can remember from the camping-spot of that night where I first wrote this letter:

"I am reserving this until I find the mine, then I will mail it at once. Now that I have definite grounds to work on, my enthusiasm is equal to carry me through any difficulties in my pathway."

"Oh, father, how sad!" wept Polly, handing the letter to Anne, to read to the other two girls.

"We know the rest, Polly. And that is why we never had you read this. Now that we can prove the poor old man was sane, we will try to establish his reputation for all concerned," said Mr. Brewster.

"Why didn't you try to find his family when he died?" asked Polly, frowning at what she considered an oversight.

"We did. Every newspaper of reputation carried an advertisement, but Ah think, now, that the old man assumed another name than his rightful one. That is why we never had a reply to our ads," replied Mr. Simms.

Eleanor was elated at the romance of this experience, and turned to
Polly, exclaiming:

"Oh, Poll! S'posing we meet Montresor's son some day, and you fall in love with him without knowing who he is! Then it will all come out when he visits your parents to ask for you, and he will get his share of the mine, anyway!"

Anne laughed heartily at such nonsense but Polly rather favored such an ending, so her mother and father quickly interrupted the romance by saying:

"Come, come, sign papers and wind up this affair!"

Mr. Simms said the assay was more than satisfactory, and "Choko's Find" was filed as the discovery of "Marybelle Brewster, daughter of Sam and Mary Brewster of Pebbly Pit."

"Who's Marybelle Brewster?" wondered Eleanor, surprised.

"It's me, but no one knows it!" laughed Polly.

"Sam, when do you reckon you-all ought to go back to the mine and investigate?" said Mr. Simms.

"We-all plan to ride there early in the morning. Will you-all try to come with us?"

"Ah'd like it first-rate. Ah haven't had my regular fishing trip this year and this will answer," replied Simms, eagerly.

"Then be shore to meet us at seven or eight o'clock at the Pine Tree just by the corduroy roadway," said Mr. Brewster.

"Sam, better get away before that! We won't be the only riders along
Top Notch trail the moment this 'find' gets wind!" warned Simms.

"He's right, Sam! Let's start from the farm at day-break and meet Mr.
Simms at five or six," advised Mrs. Brewster.

"Right! Make it six, Simms, and see if the coroner and sheriff want an outing." Mr. Brewster's voice sounded interesting.

Just as the lawyer opened the door for the ladies to leave, a handsome young man of about eighteen came down the road. It was evident, in every way, that he was a "tenderfoot" newly arrived. Probably just came in on the noon local from Denver.

"I'm looking for Carew's Camp, sir. That cowboy over at the box-car said you might tell me how to reach it."

"Oh, that's the surveyin' crew for the government. Ah reckon you'll have quite a jaunt afore night to reach there. They're working about twenty mile from here—up on the Yellow Jacket Pass road," replied Simms, studying the surprised face closely.

"Ah saw Carew's driver stopping at Jake's when we drove by, Simms," said Mr. Brewster at this moment.

"If you-all can find Jake, that will be the way to arrive—take a reserved seat beside him,"' chuckled Simms.

The youth was shy before so many pretty girls, so he took off his cap to acknowledge the obligation, and would have backed away had not Simms asked a very strange question.

"Young man, you look exactly like an old friend I knew in these parts, some years back. So like, that I must ask you your name."

The stranger flushed and stammered: "I am Kenneth Evans, from New York."

Simms frowned when he heard the name and turned to Sam Brewster: "Did you ever see anything to beat that likeness to the man we were just talking about?"

Polly had noticed the resemblance as did her father, but nothing more was said at that time, as so much remained to be attended to before the ride on the morrow.

"Well, Boy, be sure to drop in and have a talk with me the next time you are in town. My friend was from your way, too, and who knows but we-all can hook up a relationship, eh?" said Simms, holding out his hand to young Evans.

"I'll be glad to do that," responded Kenneth, heartily.

Mrs. Brewster's kindly heart was touched by the utter forlornness expressed in the youth's face when he heard how far away the surveyor's camp was located, so she addressed him directly.

"Did you want to reach Carew to-night, or can you come home with us and get a fresh start for camp, in the morning?"

"I was supposed to report to Carew yesterday, but I lost the train at Chicago, and that made me late all along the line of train-connections," explained young Evans, smiling more cheerfully. "I thank you just the same, for inviting me to join your circle, but I really feel that I must find this man Jake and get away."

"Well, young man," now abetted Mr. Brewster, "do as you think best, but that won't prevent you from riding over to Pebbly Pit any day you can get away from work, and having dinner with us."

The young man was surprised at such hearty hospitality shown an utter stranger, but he had heard of western generosity and he now felt that he had met such types of westerners. Just now, Mr. Simms called out quickly: "There goes Jake! Hey, Jake! Ah say—J-A-K-E!"

The man called Jake halted as he was crossing the muddy road, and looked towards the group which stood in front of Simms' office. Simms waved his wide-brimmed hat to denote that he was wanted, so the driver turned and slouched along the side of the road until he was within a few feet of the lawyer, before the latter explained.

"We-all got a fine young Tenderfoot here, for you, Jake, and Ah just wanted to warn you to handle him with care or these pretty gals of Pebbly Pit will call you to account for him. Boys are scarcer than hen's teeth, since the war, you know, and our gals are having a hard time raking the country to find such a swain as young Evans."

Mr. Simms' frivolous talk made the girls smile, and Kenneth Evans began to feel more at ease. But Jake was replying to the attorney's explanation, and he listened to what was said.

"Ah come all the way from camp, yistiddy, and no kid to be seen. Then the boss sent me back to-day to meet this local train but he ain't come yet. Now when he shows up, he can walk to Carew's Camp, fur all I care! I'm going back, right off."

"Lookin' for a kid, eh? What sort of one is he?" teased Mr. Simms.

"Augh, Jim Latimer says he was bigger'n him, but a blondy. And he said he looked a Tenderfoot all through. I asked Red Mike if a feller stopped at his eatin' place for a snack, but Mike tole me he ain't seen no stranger in Oak Crick, this week," Jake grumbled.

"Did you say Jim Latimer?" exclaimed Eleanor, eagerly.

Jake turned to stare at the girl, and young Evans brightened visibly, then he said: "Do you know Jim?"

"Do you know him?" chorused several voices, Polly and her parents joining the chorus.

"Do I know Jim?" repeated Kenneth, laughing like his old merry self. "I should say I did! Why, Jim and I went through school together, back East, and it's Jim who got me in this Crew so I can get experience and money at the same time."

"Well, this is great!" exclaimed Sam Brewster. "You see my boy John goes to college with Tom Latimer, at Chicago, and that's how we met Jim—his brother gave him a letter of introduction to bring us when he came out here to work with Carew. I knew the Boss of the survey crew, and Jim has been over to Pebbly Pit on Sundays. So now you must get him to show you the way."

This happy discovery, of having a mutual friend, completed Kenneth's feeling of ease and confidence, and he was soon talking unrestrainedly about the Latimers—what splendid people they were. How Jim's father was trying to save his (Ken's) father from having a very valuable patent stolen by a ring of rascals in New York City. And how Mr. Latimer's brother who was a large financier on Wall Street, was financing the lawsuit, and the stock-company that was formed on the value of the patent.

During the time it took for Kenneth to enlarge on the merits of the Latimers, Jake grew restless. He shifted his weight from one cowhide booted leg to the other, and finally he heaved a doleful sigh. Then he drew attention to himself.

"Ef we-all ain't goin' to get started mighty soon, thar's no use in gettin' off, to-night. Mike gen'ally has a dance to his ristrant at night, on pay-day, and he can put us up, all right."

Mr. Brewster hurriedly took his watch from his pocket and Mr. Simms turned to look at the old banjo clock in his office, and both men quickly said in one voice: "Oh, no, Jake! You have plenty of time to get off and make camp before dark."

But the suggestion made by the driver, to stop over-night in Oak Creek, was the means of hustling Kenneth Evans along his way. The entire party walked with him, down the road, towards the shed where Jake had the lumbering camp-wagon; and there they waited while Jake drove back to the baggage room to find his passenger's trunk.

During the driver's absence, Simms explained to the young stranger why he was so anxious about getting the man from Carew's Camp away from Oak Creek that afternoon.

"You see, my boy, these nights about this burg when the miners and cow-boys have had their pay, are one Bedlam. Decent folks lock their doors and windows and never show a light that might attract any insanely drunken miner. That's why I want you far on your road to camp before these rough foreigners come to town. Jake would revel in a wild night of it, but he'd get fired when Carew heard of it."

The young man smiled but the girls were anxious to make the most of the few minutes left before Jake returned for the Tenderfoot, so Eleanor began the moment Simms concluded.

"When do you suppose Jim Latimer and you can come to Pebbly Pit to call?"

"Never having met the Boss of the Crew, and not being acquainted with distances from camp to the ranch, I couldn't say. But Jim ought to be able to judge, and to decide on a day. We could then write you, couldn't we?"

"Don't forget, Nolla, that we have our hands full of important work on
Top Notch Trail, for an indefinite time," was Polly's warning.

"Oh, I didn't forget that, but it won't keep us busy more than a few days," returned Eleanor.

"That reminds me, Simms! Did you say you would take care of that wire to John?" asked Mr. Brewster, turning to the lawyer. "Yes; I'll send a trustworthy man down the line when the train comes back for Denver, and he can send his message couched so that no wise guy will understand what it means, from some telegraph office a distance from Oak Creek," said Simms.

"That's a wise plan. And get him off as soon as possible so John will get the word and start home without delay," added Mrs. Brewster.

Jake drove up beside the group at this moment, and sat waiting for Kenneth to say good-by to his new friends. The girls reminded him again to be sure and have Jim bring him to the ranch and visit, as soon as it could be arranged, then the great heavy wagon rolled away with the first good-looking young man the girls had seen since they left Denver.