Jack seated himself. "You spoke of some reasons on Lyle's part for your conclusions; what were they?"

Miss Gladden then told him of Lyle's strange impressions and of her dream, but made no allusion to the photograph, wishing to reserve that until later.

Jack looked thoughtful. "I wonder that she has never spoken to me regarding this dream," he said at length.

"She told me she had not had the dream so often since having been occupied with her studies and reading, probably that accounts for her not speaking of it; lately she says it has returned."

Both were silent for a while, then Miss Gladden asked:

"Do you not think these dreams and impressions are indications of an early life, far different from this?"

"I do," he replied gravely.

"That was my opinion," then, determined to get some expression from him, she continued:

"I am so attached to her, so desirous, if possible, to rescue her from this wretched life, that I am anxious to get some clue as to her true parentage; that is why I have come to you, her friend. I thought possibly you might be able to aid me in getting some evidence, or some information regarding her early history."

Miss Gladden was watching Jack keenly, to note if her words produced any effect on that immobile face. She was not disappointed: he started, almost imperceptibly, and as he fixed his dark eyes upon her own, she noticed, as never before, how keen and piercing, and how eloquently beautiful they were. Miss Gladden's eyes did not drop before his searching gaze; she was determined that he should read only sincerity and candor in their depths, and make his answer accordingly. When he spoke, his voice was unlike its usual smooth, even tone; it was tender and deep, full of some strange emotion, and reminded her wonderfully of her lover.

"Miss Gladden, may I ask,—for I believe you will answer me truthfully and candidly,—what ever led you to suppose that I could give you any information regarding Lyle's early history?"

"I will answer you candidly, as you wish," she replied; "the thought first occurred to me of coming to you for advice regarding Lyle, simply because I regarded you as her best friend, in fact, until I came, her only friend. Then a remark accidently dropped by Lyle, as to what you had once said of her singing, that it reminded you of but one voice which you had heard, but that you did not like to hear her, led me to think that perhaps she was in some way connected with some one you had known, and that possibly that was the reason for the special interest you took in her welfare.

"Then there was something more, in connection with her dream," and she told him how Lyle had at last identified the pictured face which seemed so familiar to her, as the dream-face of her childhood, and how immediately after the dream had returned.

"After she told me this," continued Miss Gladden, "you will see that I naturally concluded that the face was that of her mother; that her mother, her parents, and probably her early life were known to you; and I will frankly admit, that except that it seemed incredible that you would allow her to remain in these surroundings, if my hypothesis were correct, I would have believed that you were her father, and that grief from bereavement or separation, had caused you to choose this life for yourself and her."

Jack had again risen and was slowly pacing the room. Miss Gladden could read no sign of displeasure in his face, though she detected indications of some powerful emotion, and of acute suffering. He seemed battling with old-time memories, and when at last he seated himself and began speaking, there was a strange pathos vibrating through the forced calmness of his voice, and the piercing eyes, now looking so kindly into her own, had in their depths such hopeless sadness, that Miss Gladden's heart was stirred by a pity deeper than she had ever known, for she instinctively felt that she was in the presence of some great, despairing sorrow.

With a smile of rare sweetness and beauty, he said: "Your candor and frankness deserve confidence in return, and I will give it so far as it is within my power to do so, and yet I fear that you will be disappointed. Your surmises are incorrect in many respects, and yet contain a great deal of truth, and I will try, so far as possible, to be as frank with you as you have been with me. In the first place, I must say to you, that regarding Lyle's true parentage, whether or not she is the child of the Mavericks, I know, positively, nothing more than do you, yourself."

He smiled as he noted Miss Gladden's look of astonishment, and continued:

"Like you, I have my suspicions that she is not their child, and have had them since first seeing her, years ago. As in your case, my suspicions long ago changed to conviction, and my convictions are probably even deeper than yours, for the reason, that in form, in feature, in voice and manner, in every expression and gesture," his voice trembled for an instant, but he controlled it, "she is the exact counterpart of another; some one whom I knew in a life as remote, as far from this as it is possible to conceive. But I have no direct proof, not a shadow of tangible evidence with which I could confront Maverick and denounce him with having stolen the child, and, knowing him as I do, I know that for Lyle's sake, until I have some such proof, it were better to remain silent."

"Pardon me for interrupting you," Miss Gladden exclaimed, "but that is a contingency that never entered my mind, that Lyle had been stolen from her parents! That is far worse than anything I had dreamed of."

"Nevertheless, if she is not their child, she was stolen, and just in proportion as the former is improbable, the latter is probable, almost certain. You will now see wherein your supposition that my interest in her was due to her connection in my mind with some one I had formerly known, was correct. I took a special interest in her for this reason; it was a pleasure to teach her, to note her mind expanding so rapidly, to watch her as she developed physically and mentally; every day growing more and more like the one I had known. I enjoyed tracing the resemblance day by day, though it often caused me almost as much pain as pleasure,—but when I heard her sing, that was too much,—it was more than I could bear,—it was like compelling some lost soul in purgatory to listen to the songs of paradise."

There was a tremor in Jack's voice, and he paused, touched even more deeply by the sympathetic tears glistening in the beautiful eyes full of such tender pity, than by the bitter memories passing before his own mind.

"What has perplexed me most," he continued, "is the fact that Lyle has seemed unable to recall anything relating to her early childhood. I have tried in every way to arouse her memory, and that was my chief object in allowing her to see the photograph of which she told you; but, as she often says, the first few years of her life seem to be only blank. I cannot account for that."

"Still," said Miss Gladden, "these dreams of hers show that there are memories there, and something may yet recall them to her mind."

"That has been my hope," he replied, "that is what I have been waiting for all these years, for her mind to recall some incident, or some individual, that would furnish the needed proof as to her parentage."

"Do you think," asked Miss Gladden, after a pause, "that it would be wise to give Lyle a hint of our suspicions?"

"I have thought it might be well, if possible, to arouse her own suspicions by some process of reasoning on her part, not by any suggestions of ours."

"May I inquire whether those whom you consider her true parents are still living?"

"They both died many years ago."

"Then, if her identity could be proven beyond a doubt, would there be any one to give her such a home as she ought to have?"

"Yes, there are those who would be only too glad to give her such a home as very few have the good fortune to possess."

"And have they never made any inquiry for her?" Miss Gladden asked in surprise.

"They have no idea that she is living; her parents died under peculiar circumstances, and she was supposed to have died at the same time."

"Then ought we not," said Miss Gladden thoughtfully, "both for her sake and theirs, to let them know that she is living, and help them to find her?"

"Unless they could see her for themselves," he replied, "they would probably be rather skeptical, and require very positive proof regarding her claims, they have believed her dead for so many years. But even though I may have known Lyle's mother, I am not in communication with her friends, and would not be the proper person to present her claims to them."

For a few moments, Miss Gladden sat silently watching the play of the light and shade on the mountain side across the ravine, opposite the cabin, as the shadows cast by the light, floating clouds, followed each other in rapid succession.

Jack seemed to be thinking deeply, and when he at last spoke, it was with great deliberation:

"For a long time, as I have become more and more convinced of Lyle's identity, I have been anxious to have her taken away from these surroundings, and placed in the home to which I believe she has a right; but without tangible evidence with which to establish her claims, and also to prove Maverick's guilt, I could think of no feasible plan, nothing that did not seem likely to result in failure, and leave Lyle possibly in a worse condition than at present. I will now say to you, Miss Gladden, in confidence, that I think before very long, the way will be opened for Lyle to find the home and friends that I consider are really hers. Through information given me in confidence, I have learned that some of those whom I believe to be most closely related to her and who would be most interested in her, did they know of her existence, will in all probability be out here on business this summer; if they do not recognize Lyle, I shall be greatly disappointed."

Miss Gladden's face expressed the delight she felt. "Is it possible?" she exclaimed, "Why, I cannot conceive of anything lovelier! If she has been stolen all these years, and her people unconscious of her very existence, to have them appear on the scene, and recognize and claim her, will seem like a beautiful bit of fiction interwoven in our prosaic, every-day life, or like the closing scene in some drama, where the wrongs at last are all made right. To think what happiness it will bring to them, to her and to us!"

Jack's face grew strangely serious. "I shall be glad for her sake;" he replied, then added: "Sometimes, Miss Gladden, wrongs are righted only at a terrible cost, and what seems to you like the closing of a peaceful drama, may prove a tragedy to those who are concerned in it."

Then, before she could reply, he said, in a different tone, as though to change the conversation:

"It will not be best to mention what I have told you to any one; there is no knowing what course Maverick might pursue if he had a hint of it, for he is a desperate man; but if there is any way in which Lyle's mind could be carried back and made to recall something of her past life, I wish it might be done."

Miss Gladden had risen, preparatory to taking leave. Having given a searching glance around the room, she turned toward Jack, saying wistfully:

"Am I asking too much? Could I see the photograph which you allowed Lyle to see?"

For an instant Jack hesitated; then he replied, "I am willing you should see it, but you must not expect me to say anything concerning that picture or myself. I have spoken to you in confidence regarding Lyle, but I can go no further."

"I will not ask it," she replied.

Without a word, he went to a small trunk, concealed by a fine bear-skin, and taking therefrom the picture, silently handed it to Miss Gladden.

She uttered a low cry of surprise, and then stood for some time intently studying the lovely face in every detail. When she returned the picture to Jack's hands, there were tears in her eyes, as she exclaimed, "How beautiful! and how like Lyle!"

"I hoped she would see the resemblance," he replied.

"It seems almost incredible that she did not," answered Miss Gladden, "except for the fact that she has the least self-consciousness of any one I ever saw; it is doubtful if she would recognize her own picture."

For a long time Jack stood watching Miss Gladden, as, having thanked him for the interview, she walked slowly up the winding road. His eyes grew strangely wistful and tender, very unlike their ordinary expression, and a smile, sad but sweet, played about the usually stern lips.

"He has chosen well," he murmured at length, "they are well suited to each other; Heaven grant nothing may ever mar their happiness!" and with a heavy sigh, he turned and entered the cabin.



CHAPTER XXV.

As Miss Gladden slowly followed the winding canyon road on her return from the little cabin, the thoughts flashing through her mind very strongly resembled the lights and shadows which she had watched chasing each other across the mountain side. While she had gained very little direct information, Jack's theories had strengthened her own convictions, though placing the matter in a slightly different light. She had a very vivid imagination, and looked forward with anticipations of keenest pleasure to the coming of Lyle's friends,—whoever they might be—and their probable recognition of her; and yet she could not forget Jack's words regarding the terrible cost which might be involved, resulting in possible tragedy, and an indefinable dread seemed at times to overshadow all other thoughts, and perplex her. Not dreaming, however, that the words could refer to herself, or those in whom she was most deeply interested, she tried to banish this feeling by planning what course would be best to pursue regarding Lyle, and determined to confide the whole matter to Houston, and ask his advice. So absorbed was she in her own thoughts and plans, that not until she had nearly approached the house, did she observe the presence of strangers.

A party of eight or ten ladies and gentlemen, including three or four tourists from the east, had come out from Silver City. They had come with wagons, bringing a large tent which was to be put up for those who could not be accommodated in the house. They proved to be very pleasant people, and during the ensuing ten days of their stay, Miss Gladden and Lyle seldom saw each other apart from their guests. There were numerous excursions to various points of interest, moonlight rides on the lake and impromptu dances.

Houston at this time was more than usually occupied, as the day after the arrival of the camping party, Mr. Blaisdell unexpectedly appeared upon the scene. He arrived quite early in the morning, having been brought by special train from the Y. He found Houston alone in the office, and greeted him with a cordiality quite surprising to the latter, considering his taciturn, dissatisfied manner when at the mines a few days before. He seemed in no hurry to leave the office, but remained talking for some time concerning business affairs at Silver City.

"I may want you to run over there, just for a day, while I'm here," he said at length, "for I expect to remain out here for about a week. By the way, Houston, I hear you pitched into old Hartwell one night, over there at the hotel, for some remarks he made about the company."

"Ah," said Houston, "how did you hear of that?"

"There was a friend of mine there, who overheard Hartwell's talk, and afterward saw you go up and speak to him. Having seen you in our office, he had a little curiosity as to what was going on. He said Hartwell cursed you up hill and down, but that you were so damned cool the old fellow couldn't rattle you. Hartwell told him afterward that you threatened to compel him to substantiate all he had said, and he was glad that the old fellow, for once, found somebody that wasn't afraid of him."

"Oh, no," said Houston, quietly, "I didn't see any reason for being afraid."

"Well," said Mr. Blaisdell, "I liked your spirit all right, but then, men like Hartwell are not worth paying any attention to. He is interested in another company, so of course he tries to run down ours, and he has a certain clique that he has persuaded to think just as he does. I never think it best to notice any of his remarks."

"If he had simply made a few remarks," said Houston in reply, "I would of course have let them remain unnoticed, but he had continued his harangue for nearly an hour before I spoke to him, so I thought it as well to have a word with him myself."

"Oh, that was all right, perfectly right on your part, only I have adopted the policy of letting barking dogs alone."

After a little further conversation, Mr. Blaisdell looked over the books, and finding everything in satisfactory shape, remarked:

"You seem to have familiarized yourself very thoroughly with the work so far as you have gone, and in a very short time. You will doubtless remember, Mr. Houston, that when we engaged you, you were told that we should probably need your services later at the mines, in assisting the general superintendent. Morgan's work is increasing lately, and I have been thinking that I would much prefer to have a trustworthy person like yourself, assist him, even if we have to employ another bookkeeper, than to put on an entirely new man at the mines. I am going out to the mines this afternoon, to see how Morgan is getting along, and I think that to-morrow we will close the office, and you had better go out with me, and I will show you the work that I wish you to have charge of there. It probably will not take all your time, you will still be in the office more or less, at least enough to superintend the work in case I bring out a new man. He will simply work under your direction and supervision, the responsibility will all devolve upon you."

For the next day or two, Houston's time was spent at the mines, familiarizing himself with the underground workings, and becoming acquainted with the different classes and grades of ore, and the various methods of mining and reducing the same.

This was just the opportunity for which Houston had been waiting, and he entered upon his new work with a zest and enthusiasm that delighted Mr. Blaisdell, and even won the esteem of Morgan. On the second day, to Houston's great joy, he was given charge, under Morgan, of what was known as the "Yankee" group of mines, containing the Yankee Boy, the Yankee Girl and the Puritan, the three most valuable mines in which the New York company was interested.

In passing through one of these mines, Houston noticed two miners working together with wonderful precision and accuracy, and on looking at them closely, recognized in one of them, the man whom Rutherford had pointed out to him on the train from Valley City, and of whom he had heard Miss Gladden speak as Lyle's friend. The man seemed to pay little attention to his being there, and on coming out, Houston inquired of Mr. Blaisdell concerning him.

"I can tell you nothing about him," replied Mr. Blaisdell, "except that he and his partner, the Irishman, are the two most expert miners we have. They live by themselves, and refuse to mingle with the other men, consequently they are not very popular among the miners, but of course that cuts no figure with us, so long as they are skilled workmen."

The next day, Houston went to Silver City, on business for Mr. Blaisdell, and while there, sent the following message over the wires, to Van Dorn:

"Everything in readiness; bring machinery at once."

Upon his return to the mining camp to enter upon his new duties, Houston resolved to make a careful study of the men working under him, both foremen and miners, for the purpose of determining whether there were among them any whom he could trust sufficiently to seek from them whatever assistance might be necessary for himself and Van Dorn in their future work.

Accordingly, for the first few days, he spent considerable time in the mines, apparently examining the workings, but in reality watching the men themselves. Among some of them he saw black looks and scowls, and heard muttered comments regarding himself: "Git onto the dude!" "D'ye see the tenderfoot?" "Thinks he's goin' to boss us, does he? we'll show him a trick or two." These were mainly from Maverick's consorts, and men of their ilk, ignorant and brutal. Houston paid no attention to their remarks or frowns, but continued his rounds among them, conscious that he was master of the situation, meanwhile giving instructions to the foreman who accompanied him. As he passed and repassed Jack and Mike, working together with almost the automatic precision of machinery, he stopped to watch them, attracted partly by admiration for their work, and partly by a slight interest in the man who had been his fellow passenger, and concerning whom he had heard such various reports.

During the slight pause in their work, the Irishman eyed him curiously, with indications of his native drollery and humor betraying themselves in his mirthful face; he seemed about to speak, but Jack, with set, stern features, was ready, and the work continued without a word. In that brief interim, however, Jack had fixed one of his keen, piercing glances upon Houston, which the latter returned with one equally searching, and though not a muscle relaxed in that immobile face, covered with dust and grime, yet a strange thrill of mutual sympathy quivered and vibrated through the soul of each man, and Houston knew that he had found a friend.

"There is a man among a thousand," he thought as he walked away, "a man of honor, in whom one could place unbounded confidence; no wonder Lyle has found him such a friend!"

At the next pause in their work, Mike's feelings found expression:

"Begorra! but the young mon is progressin' foinely, to be put over the loikes of us, and bein' as how most loikely he niver sit foot in a moine, till comin' out into this counthry!"

Jack's face had grown strangely set and white: "We are to be his friends, remember that, Mike," he said, in a voice unnaturally stern.

"Frinds!" exclaimed the astonished Mike, "Be-dad! and whin did I iver know ye to make frinds with ony of owld Blaisdell's men befoor?"

"Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut, Mike," was Jack's only reply as he again began work, and Mike had nothing to do but to follow his example.



CHAPTER XXVI.

In a short time Houston had become perfectly familiar with his new surroundings. He was thoroughly at home in the underground workings, readily finding his way in the labyrinth of shafts, tunnels and cross-cuts extending for miles in all directions, and connecting the various mining claims one with another.

He knew the name and face of nearly every man employed in the various shifts, and by his keen perception and insight, was able to form a very correct estimate of their character and standing in that little community. Though no words had been exchanged between himself and Jack beyond those of the most commonplace greetings, yet his respect for the man, and confidence in him, increased with each day, and was plainly indicated by his manner toward him whenever they met.

As he watched the men, in his frequent rounds through the mines, most of their faces were to him as an open book, on some of whose pages he read histories of misfortune and loss, or crime and shame in the past, and on others, of eager ambitions and bright hopes for the future. There were men with gray hair and bowed forms, whose dull eyes and listless step told of hopeless, irretrievable loss; men of intelligence and ability whose recklessness or whose despondency told of some living sorrow, worse than death; there were some whose stealthy, shrinking gait and watchful, suspicious glance bespoke some crime, unknown to their fellows, but which to themselves seemed ever present, suspended, like the sword of Damocles, above their heads.

But even to Houston, Jack remained a mystery, and as he noted the powerful, athletic form, the profile of patrician beauty, perfect as though chiseled in marble, the hair and beard black and glossy as the raven's wing, though touched with silver here and there, he found himself unable to read the history of that life.

"There is a man," he soliloquized, "my equal, if not my superior, in birth, in education, in intellectual ability; how came he here? What has wrecked his life?"

But the dark, piercing eyes, turned on him for an instant, gave no answer to his query.

As he and Morgan, their day's work completed, were returning to the house, Houston made some inquiries regarding the men, and from the information given by Morgan concerning some of them, found his own judgment of them correct.

"And who is the man called 'Jack,' who works with the Irishman?"

"Heaven knows, I don't, nor nobody else," replied Morgan; "he came here about six or seven years ago, I guess, at least; he was here when I came, and was considered an expert then. He never would have anything to say to the other men, and always lived by himself till the Irishman came; he was another queer sort of duck and was a first-class miner, too, so him and Jack has worked together and lived together ever since, but Jack is boss."

"Are they the only miners living by themselves?" asked Houston.

"The only single men; there's six or seven of 'em that are married and have families, like Maverick; they have very good shacks, furnished by the company, but all the single men, excepting them two, live at the quarters. By the way, have you ever been down to the quarters?"

"No," replied Houston, "but I should like very well to visit them."

"All right, we'll go to-night if you like; I go down there myself once in a while and listen to their stories; they've most of 'em had some queer experiences, and they can spin as many yarns as a lot of sailors, any time."

Later in the evening, Houston, having excused himself to the ladies in general, and Miss Gladden in particular, accompanied by Morgan, was on his way to the miners' quarters. The latter were situated but a short distance from the office, on the road to the mines, and consisted of two boarding houses and four bunk houses. Farther down the road were the stables for the horses used in hauling supplies; also blacksmith and carpenter shops, and a storehouse.

A rather novel scene presented itself to Houston as he approached. Scattered about on the ground, and loafing in the door-ways in all attitudes and positions, were over a hundred men, of various ages, classes and nationalities, but principally Cornishmen, or, in western vernacular, "Cousin Jacks." Many of them were strangers to him, being employed in other mines than those with which he was familiar, but among them were many of his own men. From the door-way of one of the bunk houses came the strains of a violin, while in another, a concertina shrieked and groaned, and from all directions came the sound of ribald songs, coarse jests and boisterous laughter. Here and there were groups of men engaged in playing poker or seven-up, where little piles of silver and gold were rapidly changing hands, to the accompaniment of muttered oaths. At one side, Maverick and a few kindred spirits seemed trying to outrival one another in profanity and obscenity, while at some distance from them, was a large company of the better class of men, some lounging against trees and rocks, some sitting or lying at full length on the ground, but all listening with unmistakable interest, to a man, gray and grizzled, with a weather-beaten but kindly face, who evidently was entertaining the crowd with tales of his own early life.

As Houston and Morgan approached, the speaker stopped; some of the men half rose from their recumbent positions out of respect for the "new boss," and all eyed him rather curiously, though not unkindly. Houston recognized many of his own men among them, and greeted them with a pleasant "Good evening, boys."

"Hullo, Billy," said Morgan, addressing the old miner, "what do you know to-night?" then noting that he was watching Houston with a half smile on his rugged face, he added, "Thought I'd bring the boss down to see you and the rest of the boys to-night."

"Good evenin' boss," responded the old fellow, while a merry smile twinkled in his eyes, "I expect this is your first visit to a reg'lar, genuwine minin' camp?"

"My first, perhaps, but not my last," said Houston, with a winning smile.

"That's right," said the old man approvingly, as he proceeded to refill his pipe; "I've been a watchin' you, off and on, down there at the mines, bein' as I'd heerd you was a tenderfoot, and I must say you've took a holt as if you was an old hand at the job."

"Oh, yes," Houston replied, "with a little determination, a person can pick up anything of that kind easily. I think, with a little practice, I could make a pretty successful miner; it would require grit and stick-to-it-ativeness, that's all."

"'Grit and stick-to-it-ativeness,' that's good," said the old miner, highly pleased, "well, you seem to have plenty of 'em both, and plenty of good muscle, too," with an admiring glance at Houston's fine, athletic form.

"See here, Billy," said Houston pleasantly, after chatting a few moments, "when we came, it looked very much as though you were telling stories to the crowd here, and the boys all seemed very much interested; now we want you to go on with your story, we would enjoy it as much as the rest."

"Let me see," said Billy, "I don't remember just where I was, but I guess I'd finished as you come up."

"Never mind, you can start another," said Houston.

"Yes, Billy, give us another," chimed in the boys.

"Go ahead, pardner," added Morgan, "spin us a yarn, that's what we came for."

"I was only tellin' the boys about the old days when I came out to the mines, and for the first few years after," Billy began.

"Those must have been interesting times," said Houston.

"Int'restin'? I should say so! You fellows don't know nothin' about minin' compared to them days; I tell you, things was lively then. I was there at Leadville when it was opened up, and you couldn't get anybody to look at you without payin' 'em a good, round sum for it; couldn't get a place to roll yourself in your blanket and lie on the floor short of five or ten dollars; folks bought dry goods boxes and lived in 'em. Then I was down here when they opened up the Big Bonanza mine, in Diamond gulch, not far from Silver City. I tell you boys, them was high old times, everything was scarce and prices was high,—flour was a hundred dollars a sack, and potatoes seventy-five dollars a bushel,—but money was plenty,—or gold dust,—we didn't have no money, everything was paid for in gold dust. 'Twas pretty tough in them days, too, everybody went armed to the teeth, and guns and knives was used pretty free."

"Was that in the days of the vigilantes?" asked Houston.

"Yes, they come along soon after, they had to. There was desperate characters here, but the vigilantes made short work of 'em, they didn't even give 'em time to say their prayers. I tell you, the gambling houses and the dance halls, and all them places was lively in them days. There wasn't many words over a game, if any quarrels come up, they was settled pretty quick with the revolver or bowie knife."

"There must have been some high stakes played in those days," Houston remarked.

"High? well, yes, rather; I've seen men sit down to a game worth anywhere from fifty to two or three hundred thousand, and get up without a cent in the world."

The old man paused to relight his pipe, and having puffed reflectively for a few moments, settled himself with the air of a man who has a long story to tell, and the surrounding miners evidently so understood it, for they shifted their positions accordingly, and prepared to listen.

"Speakin' of gamblin'," he began, "puts me in mind of something that happened among the camps on the other side of the range, nigh onto fifteen years ago. A gang of us boys was in Dandy Jim's gambling hall one night. The place was crowded, I remember, and we was all tryin' to make our fortunes on the high card. Some of us was dead broke, but them that hadn't the stuff borrowed from them that had, sure of better luck next time. They was all so deep in the game that none of 'em noticed a seedy-lookin' chap who come in, kinder quiet like, and set down to the faro table and began to play. I guess I was the only one who noticed him, and at first, I couldn't make him out, but after a bit, I remembered him as 'Unlucky Pete.' That man had a history. When I first saw him, some eight or ten years before that night, he had just come west with his wife, a pretty little woman, and had a good team of horses and a new wagon. He was a reg'lar border character, and whenever a new country was opened up for settlement, him and his wife was the first on the ground, ready to make a run to secure a home. Pete was prosperous, till one night, in a quarrel over a game of cards, he killed his man, and from that time his luck changed. He secured one or two good claims, but lost title to them; he lost his horses, and as fast as he bought other horses, they died or was stolen, and everything went against him. He wandered from one country to another, but bad luck met him at every turn. The last I seen him was some two years before; then him and his wife and two or three babies was goin' over the country in an old, broken-down wagon. The wheels was held together with wire and ropes, and the canvas top was in rags and tatters; the horses was the poorest, skinniest creatures you ever see, and him and his wife looked off the same piece.

"Well, somehow or 'nuther, I knew him that night, though he looked harder than ever, and had an old slouched hat down over his face. He looked like a man that was pushed pretty close to the wall, and had got down to his last nickel. Well, he set down there to the table, and threw a silver dollar on the high card; then pulled that old hat down clean over his eyes, and never spoke, or looked one way or another. The high card won, and the dealer paid the bet, and pushed the money over to Pete, but he never stirred.

"Well, that high card kep' a winnin' till there was a big pile of money there, but Pete, he never stirred, no more'n a stone. The dealer, he got mad and begun to swear, but Pete didn't move.

"'Somebody wake that fool up,' says he, with an oath.

"A fellow sittin' next to Pete shook him, and then tore off his hat. Well, boys, I'll never forget that sight, it makes me sort o' shiver now, when I think of it; there set a dead man at the table before that pile of gold.

"The dealer started to rake in that pile o' money, but about a dozen revolvers was p'inted at him, and he decided not to be in too big a hurry about it.

"'What's the use anyway?' says he, 'the man's dead and the money's no good for him, and besides, nobody knows who he is.'

"'I do,' says I, jumpin' up.

"'And I,' says another fellow, 'the man just come into camp a day or two ago, and his family's starvin'."

"Well, we bundled that money up pretty sudden, and a half a dozen of us started to find the folks; we found 'em, too, but the wife was dead, starved to death, and the children wouldn't have lasted much longer. The oldest, a girl about eight years old, told that they had nothin' to eat for two days, and her father found the dollar, and started down to the store for food, but soon after he left the cabin, the mother died.

"We buried Pete and his wife in one grave, and then with the pile of money we got good homes for the children, and some of it was to be used in givin' 'em a good eddication, and the last I heerd, they was comin' on well. But I've never set down to a game sence, that I haven't thought of the night I played faro, with a dead man at the table."

At the conclusion of the old miner's story, a little suppressed thrill of excitement ran through his audience. Morgan, who had seemed restless and ill at ease, rose to go, and Houston, finding it much later than he supposed, after a few pleasant words with the boys, bade them good night, and hastened after Morgan, who was already sauntering up the road a little way in advance.



CHAPTER XXVII.

"Well," said Morgan, as Houston overtook him, "what do you think of a 'genuwine minin' camp,' as Billy calls it?"

"The quarters are much more extensive than I supposed," replied Houston, "I never realized before that there were so many men employed here; some of them are good fellows, too, I enjoyed my visit to-night immensely."

"I generally like to come down and listen to them once in a while," said Morgan, "but somehow, I didn't care to stay there to-night, that story of Billy's made me feel sort of creepy; I'm feeling a little off to-night, anyway."

"That was a strange story the old fellow told, almost bordering on the improbable, it seemed to me, but I suppose there are a great many strange occurrences in a country like this."

"Yes, lots of things happen here, and folks think nothing of 'em, that would be considered improbable anywhere back east."

"Are you from the east?" inquired Houston.

"Yes, part way," said Morgan, "not from way back, though, I've never been farther east than Ohio. I was born in Missouri, and raised in northern Iowa."

He was silent for a moment, then continued: "I believe I told you one day that sometime I'd give you a bit of my life; I guess now's as good as any time, and when you've heard it, maybe you won't wonder at some of my views.

"As I said, I was born in Missouri; when I was about three years old, my folks moved to Iowa. I can just remember my father being with us at that time, but I never saw him after I was three and a half or so, and when I got old enough to think about it and ask for him, mother told me he was dead, and I never knew anything different till years after. We were always moving, I remember, from one place to another, and though we never had any money saved up, yet we lived well and never wanted for anything. Mother used to have a good deal of company, and be away from home considerable, but she was always kind to me, and I was a soft, warm-hearted, little chap in those days, and I know I thought the world of her.

"We lived together till I was about ten years old, and then times began to get pretty close; mother didn't have any money, and we had to pinch to get along, but she was always good to me.

"Finally she decided to go to Denver; said she had heard of an opening there for her to run a boarding house and make money, but she didn't want to take me with her, and sent me to a brother of hers, living in Ohio. That was the end of all happiness for me. He was a man old enough to be my grandfather, for mother was the youngest of a large family. He and his wife lived by themselves, for they had no children, and a meaner, stingier old couple never lived. Mother wrote pretty often at first, and always sent money, but don't you think I ever got any of it. They never mentioned my mother to me, and they wouldn't let me speak of her.

"Well, things went on from bad to worse, and finally, when I was fourteen, I run away. I stole rides on freight cars when I could, and when I couldn't do that, I tramped, till I got to St. Louis, and got a place there in a third-class hotel as bell boy. While I was there, I picked up a good many little accomplishments that have stuck to me ever since, gambling and swearing, and so on. I got to be pretty tough, I know, but in spite of it all, there was one good spot about me yet,—I thought the world of my mother. I staid in St. Louis two years; in that time I had only heard from mother twice, but she sent me money both times, and wrote me kind letters, though she never said anything about my coming to see her."

By this time, they had reached the main road, and as Morgan seated himself on a rock to finish his story, Houston followed his example.

"I made up my mind I wanted to see her, so I took what little money I had saved up, about eighty dollars, and started for Denver. The last letter I had from mother, she said she was running a house on a certain street, and I supposed of course it was a boarding house. I won't tell you her real name; Morgan wasn't her name, nor mine neither, I took it afterwards, but I'll call her name Johnson. I got to Denver, and happened to meet an old acquaintance of mine named Tim, who took me to a fifth-class boarding and lodging house where he was staying. Tim had only been in Denver a few days, and knew very little of the city, but we found a crowd of old-timers at the house, and after a while I asked for Mrs. Johnson who kept a boarding house on such a street. The men all laughed and began to guy me; I got hot and was going to sail into them, but Tim persuaded me to go out with him, and we started in to paint the town.

"Well, we'd been out about two or three hours, when we came to a dancing hall, the toughest we'd seen,—a regular dive,—and we went in, bound to have some fun. The place was full of tough-looking subs, and a lot of frouzy, dowdy girls, and what they lacked in good looks they made up in paint and brass,—such brazen faces I never saw. Half way down the hall was a big, fat woman, with her hair blondined, who seemed to have charge of the place, and was giving orders to the man behind the bar. They had some loud talk, and something in her voice took my attention, and I looked at her; just then she turned 'round facing me, and great God! it was my mother! I knew her in spite of the blond hair and the paint, and she knew me. She gave one awful shriek, and then fell in a dead faint, and when she came to half an hour after, she went into hysterics, and screamed and raved and cried nearly all night.

"I was so dazed, everything was going round and round, and I thought the world was coming to an end; and it would have been better for me if it had. The next day, she was able to see me, and I went to her room, and I guess I must have staid three or four hours. She told me then, that her husband was living, but that he quit her back in Iowa, and that he claimed I was not his child. She cried and begged me to stay with her, but I left her that day. That was fifteen years ago, and I have never seen her since. From that time, the last tie that bound me to even a belief in anything good was gone. I took a different name, and came up here in this part of the country. Once I found a girl I liked, but just as I began to think something of her, I found she was like all the rest of 'em. I've no faith in man or woman, and don't believe there is any such thing as honor or virtue. If there are some people who seem virtuous and honorable, it is simply either because they have been so placed that there was no temptation to be anything else, or because they have succeeded in keeping up appearances a little better than other folks."

As Morgan paused, Houston spoke very slowly and kindly:

"Your experience has certainly been a sad one, Morgan, and I am truly sorry for you; sorry most of all that it has produced such an effect on you."

"Well," said Morgan, "I guess it don't make much difference, one way or another, what we think or what we do."

"Your mother's opinions and actions seem to have made considerable difference in your life," answered Houston, quietly.

"Yes, by George! I should say so!" replied Morgan, gloomily.

"Perhaps your opinions and your conduct are wrecking some other life, in like manner. There is not one of us who does not exert a powerful influence on those about us, one way or the other, to build up and strengthen, or to wreck and destroy."

As there was no reply, Houston said: "I am very glad you have given me this sketch of your life, Morgan, I shall always feel differently toward you, remembering this."

"Yes," said Morgan, rising, "I wanted you to know, and I thought this was as good a time as I would have. You will remember it, whatever happens," he added ambiguously, as he started slowly down the road, in an opposite direction from the house.

"Which way are you going?" asked Houston, also rising.

"Down to the Y."

"What! are you going that distance as late as this?"

"Yes," replied Morgan, "I don't go all the way by the road; there's a cut across that makes it a good deal shorter, and I'll have plenty of time."

They both stood a few moments watching a tall, dark figure that had been pacing up and down the road all the time they had been talking, sometimes approaching quite near, then retreating out of sight. They both recognized it as Jack.

"He's a queer duck," muttered Morgan, "wonder what he's doing, this is rather late for a constitutional;" then added, "I wish I had some of the money that chap's got."

"Why, has he money?" inquired Houston.

"He must have," was the reply, "he never spends anything, just hoards it up; he's got enough any way to help me out just now, if I could only have it."

"Are you in need of money?" asked Houston, quickly, "if so, I will gladly accommodate you."

"Much obliged," replied Morgan, starting down the road, "but I can get along for the present. Luck has been against me a little lately, but I guess it will turn all right," adding, as he looked back over his shoulder, "if it don't turn too late, like 'Unlucky Pete'."

As Houston walked rapidly up the canyon toward the house, he saw Jack again approaching, and glad of an opportunity to meet this man toward whom he felt such a powerful attraction, he slackened his pace as Jack came up, and greeting him cordially, stopped and entered into conversation with him. To his surprise, he found Jack's manner far less reserved than on the few occasions when they had met in the mine. He seemed as ready to stop as Houston himself, and though he spoke with a dignity of tone and manner utterly unlike an employe, the icy reserve was gone, and in its place, there was in his voice the genuine ring of friendliness.

After a few moments of ordinary conversation, Jack remarked:

"You are not often out in this locality at this hour, and alone."

"No," Houston replied, "but I have been visiting the miners in company with Morgan, and remained there later than I intended. Then a talk with Morgan out there among the rocks delayed me still longer."

"Pardon me," said Jack, "but I suppose you are aware that you have enemies here."

"Yes," said Houston, slightly surprised, "I am conscious of that fact."

"And," continued Jack, lowering his tone, "you are probably also aware that this enmity is likely to increase, so that unless you exercise great caution, your life will be in danger?"

Houston was startled, not so much by the suggestion of personal danger, as by the thought that this man seemed to understand something of his position there. Was it possible his secret was known? It could not be, but if it were,—his nerves quivered, not with fear for himself, but with apprehension lest his whole scheme should in some way prove a failure.

These thoughts flashed through his mind with the speed of lightning, but Jack was quick to read them, and before Houston could make any reply, he continued:

"I desire to have a private interview with you, as early as possible, and as we will wish to be perfectly secure from interruption, as well as from all danger of being overheard, I wish you would come to my cabin, there we can talk with perfect safety. And now, as a key to this contemplated interview, allow me to say that I fully understand your mission here; but have no fear, your secret is absolutely safe. My only reason for wishing to meet you is, that I desire to aid you if you will permit me. Will you fix an evening for this conference of ours?"

"Certainly," said Houston cordially, his momentary surprise giving way to the confidence which he had felt in this man, since first meeting him, face to face.

An engagement was made for the near future, and with a cordial hand-clasp, the two men parted.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

The next evening, as Houston stood for a few moments in the little porch, watching a game of lawn tennis which had been hastily improvised by the merry crowd, Lyle suddenly left the group of players and joined him. Looking at him rather archly, she asked:

"Do you expect to remain out as late to-night as you did last night?"

"I don't know just how late I may be detained," he answered, smiling, "Why? are you keeping a watchful eye upon me?"

"Certainly," she replied, "Mr. Rutherford used to call himself your guardian, and now that he is gone, I must make his place good;" then she added more seriously, "This is an altogether different country from what you have been accustomed to; it is not particularly pleasant or safe for one to keep late hours here, especially if he has enemies."

Houston was somewhat surprised by this second warning, but he answered lightly:

"Yes, I know I am in what Ned used to call 'the camp of the Philistines,' but you do not think I have any dangerous enemies, do you?"

"It is only fear of detection that keeps some of them from being dangerous," said Lyle, who saw Miss Gladden approaching, "don't give them any opportunities for working their spite in the dark."

Miss Gladden just then came up, and Lyle soon resumed her place among the players.

"Going out again this evening, Mr. Houston?"

"Yes, Miss Gladden," replied Houston with mock gravity.

"Excuse me, Everard," she answered, blushing, "but when so many strangers are about, I am obliged to be very circumspect, you know."

"There are no strangers within hearing at present, Leslie," he replied, "but isn't it nearly time for this crowd to take its departure?"

"Yes, they expect to leave to-morrow."

"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Houston devoutly.

Miss Gladden laughed merrily.

"Well," he continued rather savagely, "I hope, after they are gone, we can enjoy our evenings again as we used to. For the last ten days, I have scarcely had an opportunity for a word with you, unless we deliberately gave the whole company the cold shoulder, which, of course, would not answer."

"And so," said Miss Gladden laughing, "you wreak your revenge upon poor me these last two evenings, by taking yourself away, where I cannot even have the satisfaction of seeing you, while I talk to somebody else."

Houston smiled; "I am obliged to go out this evening, Leslie, I have an engagement to-night, with Jack, at his cabin."

"With Jack!" exclaimed Miss Gladden, "then you have made his acquaintance!"

"No, I can scarcely say that, for I never exchanged a half dozen words with him before last evening. This interview to-night is wholly on business."

"Well," said Miss Gladden, who saw the players beckoning to her, "I am glad you are going to meet him. I saw him the other day, and had a talk with him regarding Lyle, and I wanted to tell you about it, but have had no opportunity. I think you will find him one of the most perfect gentlemen you ever met," and with a little farewell wave of the hand, she left him to rejoin the players who were waiting for her.

Half an hour later, Houston found himself in the inner room of the little cabin, alone with Jack, while at the outside door, Rex was stationed as guard.

Already the twilight was beginning to gather in the little room, but even in its soft, shadowy light, Houston noted the evidences, existing on all sides, of a refined nature, a nature keenly appreciative of beauty in all its forms.

"I hope," said Jack, seating himself near his guest, "that you will excuse the gathering darkness; I thought it more prudent not to have a light, as it might attract attention, I am in the habit of sitting so much in the twilight, myself."

"A light is not necessary," Houston replied, "the twilight is very pleasant, and the moon will be up presently, and will afford us all the light we need."

There was a moment or two of silence, while Houston waited for his companion to broach the subject of the evening. He was anxious to ascertain how much regarding himself and his errand there in the camp, Jack really knew, and more particularly, to learn, if possible, how he had become possessed of his knowledge.

Jack, on his part, was wondering whether, with their brief acquaintance, he could give Houston any assurance that the latter would consider sufficient to warrant taking himself into full confidence concerning his work and plans, so that he could render the assistance he desired.

"You were doubtless somewhat surprised," he began very deliberately and slowly, "by my request, last evening, for this interview."

"Yes," replied the other, "I will admit that I was surprised, more especially by the reason which you gave for your request,—that you understood my position here, and desired to help me."

"Did it never occur to you that, to a person with any degree of penetration, any ability at reading a man's character and habits of life, your position here, as clerk for a disreputable mining company, would, of itself, seem an anomaly, and be liable to excite the suspicion that you had some ulterior object in view?"

"I think," said Houston, with a smile, "you are supposing a person with keener perceptions than are possessed by many in this locality."

"They nearly all possess them to a certain degree, in a latent, uncultivated form, perhaps, but still there. For example, what is the true secret of Maverick's hatred toward you, of Haight's enmity, except that they recognize by a sort of instinct that you belong to an altogether different sphere from that in which they move? They cannot reason it out perhaps, but they feel it;—your language, your conduct, your manner, the very cut of your clothes, though but a plain business suit, proclaim to one who can read, and reason from these things correctly, and deduct their results therefrom, that you are a man of the highest culture and refinement, of high moral character, and of wealth. Consequently, the question arises, 'What are you doing here?'"

"Pardon me, I do not intend to be personal in my remarks," replied Houston, "but in my opinion, only a person who has himself moved in the highest circles of life would be able to reason in this manner."

"Possibly," said Jack, "they would be better able to classify you, as it were, and assign you to your true position, but these others feel keenly that you are not of their world, but they are generally incapable of drawing any conclusions from their observations, as very few of them have the reasoning faculty, and hence, they would not be likely to question your object or motive in holding this position. My design, however, in thus calling your attention to these facts, is simply to show you that you need not be greatly surprised when I say that from your first coming here, I have felt that you were no ordinary employe; that you were merely holding this position temporarily, either in your own interests, or in the interests of some one else,—but not in the interests of the mining company. Notwithstanding the fact that I live a very secluded life, I yet have means of ascertaining nearly all that is going on around me, and I will say to you truthfully, that I learned the secret of your mission here without even asking a question."

"I can scarcely understand," said Houston, "how you came to be the recipient of this secret, since you do not mingle with others, and apparently take very little interest in their affairs."

"Perhaps," said Jack, in low, musical tones, "you would be able to understand the situation better, did you know that your secret was told me by a friend of yours, who believed that, through my very isolation and loneliness, I could the better assist you."

"A friend of mine!" exclaimed Houston, in surprise, "Is it possible that my eastern friends are known to you, and that some one of them has written you?"

"No one has written me, the story was told me by a friend of yours here."

Instantly there flashed into Houston's mind the memory of Lyle's warning, and also of Miss Gladden's declaration that she had seen and talked with Jack, but how could his true position be known to either of them?

"I have but two friends here, at present," was his reply, "and they are women."

"True women are the truest friends," said Jack tersely.

"But how can either of them know anything regarding my work here?"

"I will tell you," and very briefly Jack gave Houston an account of how his plans had first become known to Lyle, and of her subsequent interview with himself, begging his assistance in Houston's behalf.

Houston was inexpressibly astonished and touched to find that the beautiful girl, whom he had considered friendless and helpless, and whom he had defended through a sense of chivalry, had, in return, served him so nobly and so opportunely. He resolved to see her and express to her his appreciation of what she had done, as early as possible.

"I think," said Jack, in conclusion, "you will admit that by this means I have obtained a thorough understanding of what you wish to accomplish."

"You understand it perfectly," Houston answered.

"You will also admit that, after the years of experience that I have had in these particular mines, I must be thoroughly conversant with affairs in connection therewith, and could probably render you just the assistance you will need."

"Most certainly you could," responded Houston quickly, "I know of no one in the entire camp who could assist us so well as you."

"Then," said Jack, "the next and only consideration is, whether you have that degree of confidence in me, that you would feel warranted in trusting me implicitly,—"

"Enough said," said Houston, interrupting him hastily but cordially, "I have that confidence in you, that, even if you had not sought this interview, sooner or later, I would have come to you for assistance."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise, "may I ask why?"

Houston hesitated a moment, and then replied:

"I believe, though we have met so recently, we may speak together as friends, or as brothers; you spoke a while ago of the faculty of perception; please credit me with possessing it in some degree myself, and while I do not wish to be personal or intrusive in my remarks, I am sure you will allow me to say, that if there is any degree of incongruity between my appearance and the position I hold, it certainly exists in a much greater degree in your own case. I, of course, know nothing of your past life; I wish to know nothing of it, except so far as you yourself would tell me, should you ever choose to do so, but this much I do know, and have known from the first, that you are vastly superior to your surroundings here. You claim,—and you are correct,—that I have had the advantages of excellent birth and breeding, of culture and wealth, but you are not one whit behind me in any of these things. Added to all this is the experience which you have accumulated in these late years, in this particular branch of work; surely it was not strange that I felt your acquaintance would be invaluable, could I but secure your friendship sufficiently for you to be interested in my plans."

The moon had risen, flooding the little room with a soft, pale light, but Jack was sitting in the shadow, and Houston could not see the effect produced by his words. He wondered a little that Jack made no response, and, after waiting in silence for a moment or two, continued:

"There is one other consideration which you have not mentioned, and which must not be omitted, and that is compensation."

A sudden movement on Jack's part caused Houston to pause for an instant, but nothing was said, and he proceeded:

"I could not think of asking you to share the difficulties and dangers of this work without abundant compensation. Mr. Cameron, my uncle, who is interested—"

"Stop!" said Jack, putting up one hand as if to ward off a blow; his voice was hoarse, almost stern, and vibrated with some strange, deep emotion; "If you ever speak to me again of compensation, I will utterly refuse to help you in any way."

"I beg your pardon," said Houston, in a low, gentle tone, "I intended no offense, and I shall certainly respect your wishes."

"There was no offense," replied Jack, more calmly, "but you spoke a few moments since of friendship; that word, to a man living the life I have lived, means volumes; whatever I do, let it be done for friendship's sake."

"So let it be!" responded Houston solemnly, strangely moved by Jack's manner.

For a long time they talked of the work before them, and Houston spoke of the expected arrival of Van Dorn within the next day or two, who was to remain until the end.

"The end is not far distant," said Jack, "for after his coming I can give you nearly all the additional proof needed," and he then proceeded to give information concerning matters of which Houston had not, as yet, obtained even a clue. An arrangement was made whereby Houston and Van Dorn, after the arrival of the latter, were to meet Jack at the cabin, and perfect their plans for the brief campaign before them.

At last, as Houston rose to take his leave, he said: "I hope you will pardon the remark, but while I have not the least doubt of your friendship toward me in this, I cannot overcome the impression that you also have some personal interest in this matter."

"Possibly," replied Jack, gravely, still standing in the shadow as Houston stepped forth into the moonlight, "but not in the way in which you think."



CHAPTER XXIX.

The camping party had returned to Silver City, and the old house among the mountains slowly subsided into its former quiet. Lyle's time had been so occupied by the numerous demands made upon her by the departing guests, that Houston had found no opportunity for speaking with her, as he had planned the previous evening.

When the day's work was completed, he, with Miss Gladden and Lyle, sat in the little porch, watching a brief but furious mountain storm, which had suddenly sprung up, preventing them from taking their customary evening stroll.

To the ordinary beauty of the scene around them was added the grandeur of the tempest, forming a spectacle not easily forgotten. Around the summits of the lofty peaks the fierce lightnings were playing, sometimes darting back and forth like the swords of mighty giants, flashing in mortal combat; sometimes descending swiftly in fiery chains, then seeming to wrap the whole universe in sheets of flame; while the crash and roll of the thunder echoed and re-echoed from peak to peak, the lingering reverberations still muttering and rumbling in the distance, as the fierce cannonading was again renewed. The wind rushed, roaring and shrieking, down the canyon, while the rain fell in gusty, fitful torrents.

At the end of half an hour, only a few stray drops were falling, the sun suddenly burst forth in a flood of golden light, and against the dark background of the storm-cloud, a rainbow spanned the eastern horizon, its glorious tints seeming almost to rival the gorgeous colors of the western sky.

Soon after the storm had passed, Haight was seen approaching the house. As he came up, he handed a telegraphic dispatch to Houston, saying:

"Just got a wire from the boss for you and Morgan; did you know anything about this kind of an arrangement?"

Houston opened the telegram, and read:

"Van Dorn up to-morrow to set up machinery on trial; may not be able to come myself for a day or two. Have Morgan and Houston give him all help they can spare, but not to interfere with work.

Blaisdell."

Houston read the message carefully, then said to Haight, who stood awaiting his reply:

"I knew nothing of their having made any definite arrangement. I remember hearing Van Dorn say something to Mr. Blaisdell, just before they all went away, about bringing one of his machines out here, but Blaisdell didn't seem to give him any encouragement at that time."

"He evidently has roped the old man in on it, at last," said Haight, seating himself.

"It looks like it," Houston answered indifferently.

"What is the machine anyway?" Haight inquired. "Is it any good?"

"I cannot tell you," replied Houston, "because I know absolutely nothing about it, except that it is for the reduction of ores. I heard Van Dorn allude to it two or three times while he was here, and he seemed quite enthusiastic about it, which I thought was, of course, perfectly natural. Where is Morgan?" Houston continued, "have you told him?"

Haight shook his head; "Morgan is at the Y, I suppose, as usual, and nobody will see him before sometime to-morrow. Have you noticed that fellow lately, Mr. Houston? Half the time he don't seem to know what he's about."

"I have noticed that he scarcely appears like himself, of late," Houston replied; "he seems to have some serious trouble."

"He's been losing pretty heavy lately, I guess, that's what's the matter; he's awful reckless in his gambling, it's neck or nothing, with him. I tell you," Haight continued, watching Houston sharply, "Morgan would get the G.B. pretty sudden if the boss got onto the way he's carrying sail."

"Possibly," said Houston, quietly, "but he will not know of it from me."

"No?" said Haight, with a curious, rising reflection.

"No, indeed," responded Houston, with some warmth, "when a man is in trouble, it is no time to give him a push downward; besides, I would not do or say anything to injure Morgan, anyway."

Haight looked up curiously, and even the faces of the ladies expressed a slight surprise.

"I didn't know you and Morgan were such good friends," Haight remarked wonderingly.

"I do not know," said Houston, "that either he or I consider that we are particular friends, though we are friendly enough, but I have learned this about Morgan; that whatever his principles, or his manner of life may be, he is far less to be blamed than people would ordinarily suppose."

"Well," said Haight, rising, "Morgan and I have been together, off and on, for the last three years, but I don't know anything about him except just what I have seen for myself, what anybody can see; of course his way isn't my way, but then, we don't any of us think alike, and I've never had any fault to find with him, and we've got along together first rate. I suppose," he continued, "you will give directions in the morning for that fellow and his machines, for it isn't likely that Morgan will be around much before ten o'clock."

"Very well," said Houston, "I will be up early and will see that one of the six-horse teams is at the Y to meet him, and I can get through at the mines in season to be at the office by the time he will reach there; he probably will not get up before noon, with all that load."

Happening to glance toward Lyle, as Haight withdrew, Houston read in her eyes, in their look of eager expectancy, and the firm determination expressed in her face, that she fully understood the meaning of what had passed.

It was equally evident that Miss Gladden had received no hint of the situation, for at almost the same instant she inquired:

"Is Mr. Van Dorn going to erect one of his reducing machines here?"

Houston answered in the affirmative.

"He will be likely to remain here some time, then, will he not?"

"In all probability," Houston replied, "it must take considerable time to get one of those machines in perfect running order."

"Then of course he will be here when Mr. Rutherford returns, with his brother; they were all such intimate friends, it will be pleasant for them to meet here. But I am surprised," she added, "that he is bringing one of his machines such a distance as this."

"Why so?" inquired Houston.

"Because, Mr. Winters told me that although the amalgamator was undoubtedly a valuable invention, and would prove a great success in a mining country, Van Dorn was too indolent to even try to introduce it among mining men, as it would require too much exertion on his part."

Houston smiled at this accurate description of his class mate.

Miss Gladden continued: "Mr. Winters said that Van Dorn was a fine fellow, but that he was never so happy as when engaged in some little scheme, apparently doing one thing, and in reality, doing something else, as when he was acting as mining expert for Mr. Winters."

"Well," said Houston, laughing, "if that is the characteristic of Mr. Van Dorn, it will not be best to mention it here, as the officers of the company are very suspicious anyway, and very guarded as to who is permitted to have access to the mines and mills, and we might unconsciously make it rather unpleasant for him."

The next morning, Houston went very early to the stables to order a team and three or four men to the Y to meet Van Dorn. Having given all necessary instructions, he returned to the house, but it was still early, and there was no one but Lyle in the breakfast room.

At a signal from Houston, she approached the door-way, where he remained standing, as from that position he could easily watch both the porch and the interior of the room, to assure himself that they were safe from listeners.

"I have just discovered recently," he began in a low tone, "that I am indebted to you for securing valuable assistance for me in my work here."

"Why?" she asked quickly, in surprise, "did Jack tell you that it was I who asked him to help you?"

"Certainly," replied Houston, "I naturally wished to know where he obtained his information, and he told me of your interview with him, and your persistent efforts in my behalf. I want to thank you, for I appreciate your conduct under such circumstances; you acted wisely and nobly, and did the very best thing that could have been done."

"I am glad that I have your approval," she replied, "my overhearing what I did was unintentional and unavoidable, but having learned your plans, and that you needed help, I sought it from the only one competent to give it, and at the same time perfectly true and worthy of your confidence."

"You certainly made a noble use of the knowledge you had obtained; there are very few, Lyle, who could have been trusted with such a secret, and who would have proven so trustworthy."

"If you will pardon me for saying it, Mr. Houston, there is one other, whom you could, and, in my opinion, should trust with this."

Houston looked at her inquiringly.

"I mean Miss Gladden," was her response.

"I see you have given her no hint," he said, smiling.

"Not a word," Lyle answered, "it was not my place to do so; you know best what you wish her to know, and when, but I think you ought to confide in her fully, for she is a noble woman; you could trust her, and she would help you."

"I realize that," Houston replied, "but I did not wish her to be worried by this; there will probably be more or less danger before it is all over, and I thought she would be happier not to know."

Lyle lifted her beautiful head proudly, with a gesture so full of grace, Houston could not but observe it.

"If I were in her place," she said, slowly and firmly, and with peculiar emphasis, "and my lover were in any danger, I would far rather know it, and give him my help, if possible, my prayers and sympathy at any rate, than to remain in ignorance, and perhaps unconsciously hinder him."

Houston looked at Lyle in astonishment; was this clear-headed woman the untutored, untrained child of the mountains whom he had always regarded with a tender, chivalric regard, almost akin to pity?

Lyle continued; "Do not think that even if you refrain from telling her this secret, she will not know that it exists; she will be quick to see indications of a secret understanding between yourself and others,—between yourself and myself, even,—in which she has no share. Will that seem to her like confidence, or even justice, on your part. It will be better for her, for you and for me that you tell her your plans fully, for you will find her strong and true and brave, whatever the end shall prove."

"My dear Lyle," said Houston, slowly, "I believe you are right, and I will never consider you a child again; but I cannot understand how you, with your youth and inexperience, can think and act so wisely and well."

"We none of us know what we can do or be," she answered gravely, "till an emergency arises, and we are suddenly shown what is required of us."

"I will follow your suggestion at the first opportunity," Houston said, after a pause, "I shall tell Miss Gladden all that you know regarding my plans and my work, with but one reservation; for the present, I do not wish her to know that Mr. Cameron is related to me."

Lyle looked slightly surprised, "Very well," she answered, in a tone of assent, adding, "You are his nephew, are you not?"

"His nephew and his adopted son," Houston replied, with a peculiar smile.

"Ah!" she replied quietly, "I understand; Miss Gladden is to know nothing at present of your wealth."

"I have won her love with love, not with gold," he said proudly, "but she will find, by and by, that the latter is not lacking."

A remark of Miss Gladden's, which she had made in confidence, soon after her engagement to Houston, was suddenly recalled to Lyle's mind; "Whether he has money or not, I do not know or care, for I have enough for both of us."

A curious smile flitted over her face for a moment, but she only said, "You must be very wealthy!"

"I have enough," Houston responded, "to give to Miss Gladden the home of which she is worthy, but which she has never known; and," he added, "there is one thing, my dear Lyle, upon which we are both agreed; that our home, wherever it shall be, shall be your home also, as our sister."

For a moment, Lyle's lips quivered, and she was unable to speak. At that instant, Haight entered the breakfast room, darting at them a look of curiosity and suspicion, as they stood together in the door-way. Houston was pleased to see Lyle's perfect self-control. Without stirring in the least from her place by his side, she asked, in the most matter-of-fact tone, whether Mr. Van Dorn would be likely to arrive from the Y in season for dinner, and what room it would be best to prepare for him.

"You had better let him share my room, in case he has no objections," Houston answered indifferently, "for you like to keep your rooms in readiness for guests as much as possible, and Rutherford, when he returns, will probably room with his brother."



CHAPTER XXX.

As Houston was hurrying up from the mines at about eleven o'clock, on his way to the office, he met Morgan, just started on his rounds, and was shocked at the change which a few hours had made in his appearance. His heavy gait, his pale, haggard face and bloodshot eyes, told, not only of late hours and terrible dissipation, but of some severe mental strain, also. Morgan half smiled, as he saw Houston's look of pained surprise.

"Yes," he said, "I know I look pretty hard this morning, but I was up late; I guess I'll be all right in a day or two. What's this Haight's been telling me about one of those fellows coming out here with some mining machinery? Which one is it, that English dude?"

"No," answered Houston, "Van Dorn, the one with glasses, he was the inventor, you remember."

"Well, if he's invented anything that will make old Rivers hand out any cash, he'd better get a patent on it, that's all I've got to say. How in thunder the old man ever gave his consent to his coming out here, monkey-fooling around with his machines, is more'n I can make out; but if the company want him up here, I'm sure I don't care a damn. The boss himself isn't coming up, is he?"

"Not for a day or two," replied Houston.

"Well," said Morgan, with one of his characteristic shrugs, "I guess I'll have to spruce up a bit, before he comes."

"That is so, Morgan," said Houston, kindly, "I wouldn't want Mr. Blaisdell to see you as you look this morning; I'm too much a friend of yours myself for that."

"Oh well, I'll be all right before he gets here. Who's going down to meet that fellow and his contraptions?"

"I sent Hayes down with two or three men, and a six-horse team, early this morning."

"Good for you!" laughed Morgan, starting on his way, "You'd make a first-rate boss 'round here; guess I'll have to give you a raise."

Houston walked slowly down the road after Morgan left him, having apparently forgotten his haste. The story which Morgan had told him a few nights before, of his own life, had awakened his pity for the man as nothing else could have done. He felt that Morgan was in serious trouble, and in danger of losing his position, and that he was already where it would take very little to drive him to complete ruin. He resolved to seize the first opportunity that presented itself, to try to ascertain the cause of his trouble, and to assist him in any way that he possibly could.

On reaching the office, he found considerable work awaiting him, and for a while, all other thoughts were banished from his mind. About noon, a heavy rumbling and rattling attracted his attention, and, going to the door, he saw the slowly approaching team, winding from side to side of the steep, canyon road, the powerful horses straining and panting under the heavy load. Perched on the top of the load, under a wide-spread umbrella, and fanning himself with his straw hat, was Van Dorn, his face irradiated by a broad smile as he caught sight of Houston. Two of the men walked beside the team, blocking the wheels with rocks, as the horses were occasionally stopped to rest. As they came within speaking distance, Van Dorn sang out merrily:

"I say, Houston, this is what I call up-hill work; it has been a pretty hard pull all the way."

"Yes," said Houston, "particularly hard on you, judging by appearances."

Van Dorn laughed, and proceeded to close his umbrella, while an expansive grin broke over the face of one of the workmen, trudging along the hot, dusty road. At the brow of the hill, the team again stopped to rest, and Van Dorn descended from his lofty position, Houston meanwhile giving instructions to the driver:

"Drive over to the stables, Hayes, and take the horses off and let them rest; after dinner, put on another set of horses, and drive to the mills; we will be there to see to the unloading."

"Well, Everard, old boy, how are you?" exclaimed Van Dorn, as they started for the office; "I started within five hours after I received your telegram, and here I am, at your service."

"When did you reach Silver City? yesterday?" inquired Houston.

"Yesterday!" exclaimed Van Dorn, "my dear boy, do you think the world was made in one day? No, sir; I got in the day before, and spent the remainder of that day, and all of yesterday in cultivating the good graces of your company. I went straight for their offices, and it took all the arguments and persuasion I could muster, with some treating, and a good deal of judicious flattery thrown in, before I could get the old fellows to consent to my giving the machine a trial. I got around Blaisdell pretty easy after I had flattered him a little, but that Rivers is a beast! Said he didn't see why I was so anxious to have them test the machine, and all that! I explained, of course, that this was the first I had ever brought it out into the west, and they were so well known that if I could only get their endorsement, and so on and so forth. Oh, I want to tell you all about it later, and if you don't acknowledge that I'm a born diplomat, I'll give up; but at present, my first business must be to allay these pangs of hunger, they are becoming unendurable."

"Certainly, we will go to the house at once," said Houston, preparing to close the office.

"Wait a minute!" said Van Dorn, diving furiously into his pockets; "I attended to that little business that you wrote me about, just according to directions, and I want you to see if it is perfectly satisfactory before we go any further, and then I'll have it off my mind; why, confound it! where is that thing anyway?" he exclaimed, turning a half dozen pockets inside out, and emptying a heterogeneous collection upon the desk before him. "Oh, here it is! I knew I had it safe somewhere; there now, Everard, I took as much pains as if it had been for myself, it was one of the finest stones I could find; I think it is a beauty, and I hope you will like it."

He handed a small case to Houston, partially open, from whose depths of white velvet a superb diamond ring flashed forth its wondrous rays, seeming almost to brighten the dingy little room in which they were standing.

"It is indeed a beauty," said Houston, "perfect! I could not have made a better selection myself. I knew I could trust to your good judgment, Arthur, and I am exceedingly obliged; I'll do as much for you when you are ready for a ring of this kind."

"All right, I'm glad if you like it. I believe I sent my congratulations by letter, but I'll renew them now. I only hope the lady herself will be pleased with the selection."

On their way to the house, Van Dorn said: "Ned Rutherford has gone to the coast to meet his brother, I suppose."

"Yes; you probably know he and Morton are intending to stop here on their return?"

"Yes; Mort, as soon as he found you were here, and especially after I gave him an inkling of what was going on, said he should certainly stop as he came back. You ought to have seen him though, when I told him you were out here! Good gracious! he was simply thunderstruck! He said Ned had been writing all along about a Houston, from Chicago, that he had met on the train, and that he was a fine fellow, and all that; but of course he never dreamed it was you."

The remainder of the day passed very swiftly, for there was much to be done. After dinner, Houston and Van Dorn went down to the mills and superintended the unloading and unpacking of the machinery; then, as it was too late in the day to begin preparations for its erection, Houston visited the mines, Van Dorn accompanying him only a little way into the main shaft. As they came out together, half an hour later, and started for the office, Van Dorn drew a small piece of ore from his pocket, saying:

"I've discovered now where that fine ore on the dump of the famous Sunrise lode came from."

"Yes," said Houston, "and you will make other discoveries, shortly."

At the office there was much to be said on both sides; Van Dorn giving his friend messages and directions from Mr. Cameron, and giving also the particulars of his interview with the company, and how he had finally obtained their consent for the erection of the machinery at their mills.

Houston, on his part, related what he had been doing in the few weeks intervening since Van Dorn's former visit, and explained his new position as assistant superintendent of the group of mines in which they were most interested.

Van Dorn whistled; "That's good!" he exclaimed, "I wondered how it was that you were going in and out among the mines in that way, I thought that was something new. Have you found any one whom we can trust to help us?"

In reply, Houston told his friend of Jack, of his experience and skill as a miner, and of his offer to help them.

Van Dorn was greatly interested, and before they were aware, the afternoon had passed, and it was time to close the office and return to the house.

At the supper table that evening, the diamond ring appeared, flashing on the white, shapely hand of Leslie Gladden, and she herself looked radiantly beautiful.

After the meal was over, Morgan, who was still pale and haggard, and had been very silent at the table, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and started down the road.

"Morgan," called Houston, "where are you going?"

"I dun'no," he answered moodily, "down to the Y, I guess, by and by."

"Well, hold on a minute, I will walk down with you a ways; I want to see you."

"All right," responded Morgan, walking on very slowly.

Houston hastily excused himself to Miss Gladden and Van Dorn, and hurrying after Morgan, soon overtook him. For some time, Houston talked with him regarding the work for the next day, and the men who could best be detailed to help Van Dorn. They had reached the same spot where they had stopped to talk a few nights before, and, as then, were seated on the rocks. At last, the business arrangements were all completed, and Morgan made a move as if to start, and then Houston's real errand in overtaking him became apparent.

"Morgan, you are not fit to be out to-night, you must have rest, you will break down living this way."

"Yes," said Morgan, raising his hollow, heavy eyes to Houston's face, "I'm about done up, that's a fact."

"I wouldn't go to the Y to-night, if I were you; come back to the house and get a good night's rest, it will make a different man of you."

Morgan looked undecided for a moment; "'Twouldn't be no use going up there now," he answered gloomily, "I couldn't rest if I tried. I haven't slept scarcely any for three nights; but I ain't going to stay out late to-night as I've been doing; I shan't play after midnight. I'm going to have two or three games just to see what luck I'll have, and if I don't have luck, why, that ends it, I ain't going to play all night."

"Morgan," said Houston earnestly, "you spoke the other night about money; now, as I told you then, if you need any money, I'm your friend, and I'll gladly accommodate you with whatever you need."

For the first time in all their acquaintance, Morgan's careless, indifferent manner changed, and for a few moments he seemed touched.

"Yes, I believe you," he said, after a pause, "I believe you're more of a friend to me than anybody else. Blaisdell would kick me out quicker'n it takes to say so, if he knew just how I stand to-night. Even Haight's got the big-head and puts on his airs since he's seen I'm down; you're the only one that's showed me any kindness."

"Now, Morgan, just say what money you need, and you shall have it; I want to help you out of this," said Houston.

"No," said Morgan, decidedly, "if I am a gambler, and all that, I ain't going to take the wages from a fellow that works for less than I do, to help me out of trouble. The Lord knows you've earnt your money, for you've worked faithful."

"Never mind about that, Morgan," said Houston, hastily, "I'm not wholly dependent on my salary; I had a good little sum of money laid by before I came out here; there is plenty, I will not miss it, and you are welcome to it."

"Much obliged to you, Houston, but I can't take it,—not now, at any rate,—maybe I'll call on you for it to-morrow, if I don't have luck to-night."

"You are welcome to it whenever you want it," said Houston cordially, his hand on Morgan's shoulder; "I only wish you were not going to the Y to-night."