THE ABANDONED CLAIM 
 
 BY 
 
 FLORA HAINES LOUGHEAD 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE MAN WHO WAS GUILTY 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 1891 
 
Copyright, 1891, 
 BY FLORA HAINES LOUGHEAD. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U.S.A. 
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. 
 

 
 M4-//V 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE SHADOW OF DOOM 1 
 
 II. WAYS AND MEANS 7 
 
 III. THE ABANDONED CLAIM 15 
 
 IV. THE HEAD OF A FAMILY .... 27 
 V. TOM S APOLOGY 33 
 
 VI. THE MAN WITH A HISTORY .... 40 
 
 VII. CROSSING THE RUBICON . . . . .49 
 
 VIII. DISCOVERY 56 
 
 IX. A TOUR OF EXPLORATION . . . .61 
 
 X. A BUSY DAY 71 
 
 XI. A HOME AND THREE PATRIOTS ... 80 
 
 XII. A MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY .... 86 
 
 XIII. WINTER ON A CALIFORNIA RANCH . . .91 
 
 XIV. THE ROPE EXPRESS 97 
 
 XV. HOPE AND THE BIRDS 106 
 
 XVI. THE OLD ORCHARD 110 
 
 XVII. MAKING IMPROVEMENTS 114 
 
 XVIII. Two SURPRISES 120 
 
 XIX. A TRIP TO THE CITY 129 
 
 XX. HOPE S EMBEZZLEMENT 133 
 
 XXI. HOPE S INDICTMENT 139 
 
 XXII. HARD TIMES 148 
 
 XXIII. THE SECOND SEASON 158 
 
 XXIV. A PROJECT AND AN ADVENTURE . . . 168 
 XXV. A PREMATURE BLAST 176 
 
 XXVI. THE BUILDING OF THE BRIDGE . . . 186 
 
 XXVII. A PRISONER OF WAR 196 
 
 XXVIII. How HANK JONES S CLAIM WAS SETTLED . 208 
 
 XXIX. HOAV GOD REMEMBERED 219 
 
 XXX. PROGRESS 226 
 
 XXXI. How TOM KEPT His WORD . . . .233 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 XXXII. A NEWSPAPER ITEM 240 
 
 XXXIII. THE PRODIGAL SON 247 
 
 XXXIV. HOPE S EXPERIMENT 253 
 
 XXXV. HOPE S BLACK ROSE AND WHAT CAME OF IT 258 
 
 XXXVI. MARTIN TRIES TO SAVE DR. JOHN . . . 266 
 XXXVII. DR. JOHN is BROUGHT TO BAY . . . 272 
 
 XXXVIII. AT THE CAMP FIRE 277 
 
 XXXIX. TROUBLE IN THE VALLEY .... 284 
 XL. THE COURT OF LAST RESORT . . . .293 
 
 XLI. THE DOCTOR S STORY 299 
 
 XLII. THE LAST BATTLE 305 
 
 XLIII. THE MIRACLE A BLUNDER WROUGHT . . 320 
 XLIV. PROVING UP . 323 
 
THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF DOOM. 
 
 " How long has he been this way ? " 
 
 It was a physician who spoke, a gray-bearded, 
 elderly man, with a gruff, professional air, and kind 
 blue eyes that belied his manner. 
 
 " He was taken down about three quarters of an 
 hour ago. But, if you 11 excuse me, sir, I think 
 it s been coming on for some time. He s been 
 queer and shaky-like for weeks. Started in to 
 work this morning, and dropped down all in a heap, 
 as you see him." 
 
 The rays of the morning sun entered the tall 
 windows of the furniture factory, and filtered 
 through the dust-laden air until they reached the 
 corner where the speakers were standing. All 
 work was suspended, and the frank faces of the 
 workmen wore a common expression of honest con 
 cern over the calamity that had overtaken one of 
 their number. 
 
 At the feet of the speakers, a man of unusual 
 stature and herculean frame lay stretched upon a 
 
2 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 pier of shttvHigs 1 over which some sacking had been 
 thrp W A. Borljy limbs ; muscles, even the features 
 of his face, might have been fixed in an invisible 
 frame of iron, so rigid and motionless were they. 
 Only the brown eyes, large and gentle, looked forth 
 with a piteous expression, telling that a sensitive 
 human soul was still imprisoned in the helpless 
 body. 
 
 " Never saw such a worker in my life," contin 
 ued the first speaker, who was the foreman of the 
 shop. " He could do the work of two men, and 
 what is more, he was always trying to do it. No 
 use holding him back ! He was like some blooded 
 horse, always straining at the bit." 
 
 " Poor fellow. He s done his last day s work," 
 said the doctor gravely. 
 
 " Burst a blood vessel ? Dying ? I thought so." 
 
 " Worse than that. Paralysis." 
 
 " My God ! And he may live on, like that ? " 
 
 " He may live for months. Probably another 
 stroke will soon follow. That will be the end." 
 
 The doctor moved uneasily as he gave this ver 
 dict. Something in the man s face, something in 
 the foreman s statement, invested the case with 
 more than ordinary interest. 
 
 " Has the man any means, any one to take care 
 of him ? He ought not to lie here. The City and 
 County Hospital cares for such cases * 
 
 The foreman cut him short, with a decisive ges 
 ture. 
 
 " Very few hard-working, forehanded mechanics 
 
THE SHADOW OF DOOM. 3 
 
 ever come to that. I happen to know he is a pay 
 ing member of the Mutual Benevolent Society. 
 
 Most of our men belong to some association of that 
 sort. Danger of accident, you know. That has 
 its own hospital, and will take care of him as long 
 as he lives. It s bound to." 
 
 " Better send for the ambulance at once, then." 
 
 The foreman stepped to the telephone, shouted 
 to the main office, waited a moment, and shouted 
 again. 
 
 The physician turned to go. Other calls were 
 pressing, other patients waiting. There was plain 
 ly no money in this case : yet one more question 
 forced itself upon him : 
 
 " Has he any family ? " 
 
 The foreman s face clouded with unpleasant rec 
 ollection. 
 
 " The wife died last year," he explained in a low 
 voice. " There are three children. He set a store 
 by them. We sent for them. There they are 
 now." 
 
 There they stood, on the threshold of the great 
 shop, and, unconsciously, on the threshold of a new 
 life. Three children, two boys and a girl, with 
 their school satchels on their arms, and a look of 
 anxiety and dread overcasting their youthful faces. 
 
 The boys were the oldest, fine, manly fellows of 
 twelve and fifteen years, the elder with something 
 of his father s noble physique. The girl was a year 
 or two younger, a quiet, inconspicuous little crea 
 ture, who shrank back at the sight of the large room 
 
4 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 and the strange men there ; yet she was the first to 
 go forward as their eyes swept the place and fell 
 on the prostrate figure at the further end. Quietly 
 and swiftly, like one accustomed to duties of the 
 sick-room, she sped to her father s side and knelt 
 by his pallet, chafing his rough hands between her 
 own. The boys followed, and helplessly looked 
 down upon him. 
 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 Her white lips seemed to shape the words. The 
 physician, lingering against his will, answered 
 shortly : 
 
 " Paralysis. He must go to the hospital. The 
 ambulance is coming for him." 
 
 " Why not home ? We can take care of him. 
 He will get well sooner there." 
 
 It was Xed, the eldest, who spoke. The doctor 
 turned away. The boy touched his arm, repeating 
 the question. There was no answer. He appealed 
 to the foreman. 
 
 " Mr. Graves, you don t think He does n t 
 mean that father won t get well ? " 
 
 Then the blow fell upon them, and fell heavily, 
 and all the men within hearing turned away, un 
 able to bear the sight. 
 
 Somebody announced that the ambulance had 
 come, but no one seemed willing to disturb the lit 
 tle girl, who still hung over the sick man, kissing 
 his forehead, smoothing his hair with her hand, 
 whispering endearing words, choking back her own 
 grief and pain, to comfort him, with womanly ten 
 derness. 
 
THE SHADOW OF DOOM. 5 
 
 The lips of the stricken man moved, but only an 
 inarticulate murmur escaped. 
 
 " He is trying to say something," declared the 
 foreman. 
 
 The girl listened intently. The physician bent 
 down his head. 
 
 " Gatha. Agatha ! Is your name Agatha ? " 
 he asked the child. 
 
 " No, sir, I am Hope." 
 
 " Gather. Gather. That must be the word. 
 Gather what?" 
 
 Again the invalid made a desperate attempt to 
 speak. 
 
 " Together. It is 4 together, " said the little 
 girl. 
 
 The sick man s eyes brightened, but still wore 
 the eager, anxious look that had come into them 
 when he first saw the children. 
 
 "What can he mean by that?" asked a by- 
 sta nder. 
 
 " Father, dear, do you mean for us to keep to 
 gether? " asked the child. 
 
 How the sick man s eyes shone in answer ! 
 
 " Then listen, father. Here, Ned ! Here, Mar 
 tin ! " She took their hands and drew them close 
 to her, where he could see them. " Listen, father. 
 We promise, Ned and Martin and I, that until we 
 are men and woman grown, we will never be parted. 
 We promise faithfully. You tell him so, Ned ; and 
 you, Martin." 
 
 His body condemned to a living death, with the 
 
6 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 imperishable soul still chained within, how eloquent 
 the eyes of the father became, as he heard this 
 promise ! Then the little maid forgot her womanly 
 dignity, forgot that strange men were by, remem 
 bered only that she was about to part with the dear 
 father, who had been father and mother, too, since 
 the sweet young mother closed her eyes on this 
 world, and that this was a parting harder than that 
 beside the coffin. 
 
 "Good-by, good-by, father, dear. Oh, father, 
 father, if I could only stay with you ! We will do 
 the best we can. Don t trouble about us. Pre 
 cious, darling father, good-by." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 WAYS AND MEANS. 
 
 THE children found themselves standing on the 
 sidewalk, with half -blinded eyes, watching the 
 crowds go by. 
 
 All their faculties seemed dulled by the great 
 sorrow that had come upon them. Where to go 
 or what to do next, they did not know. They had 
 no relatives to whom they could appeal in their 
 need, no one closely bound by the ties of blood or 
 of friendship, to whom it would be right and natural 
 to apply for counsel. Their lives had been singu 
 larly bound up in each other, father and children 
 relying upon each other for help, companionship, 
 and advice. 
 
 They were moving down the street, and were in 
 sensibly retracing their steps to the school from 
 which they had lately come, graduated so harshly 
 from happy boyhood and girlhood into the great 
 world s cares and sorrows. Soon they had reached 
 the schoolhouse, and stood, hesitating, outside the 
 door in the high board fence that surrounded it. 
 
 " What is the use ? " said Ned. " We are through 
 with all this. We have got to study up ways and 
 means of living." 
 
8 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Let s talk with Mr. Koberts about it," sug 
 gested Martin. 
 
 Hope had not once spoken since she left her 
 father. She had been crying a little, silently, wip 
 ing her eyes by stealth, that the boys might not see. 
 She followed them meekly now, as they entered 
 the yard, which was prettily laid out, with neat 
 walks and rows of blossoming shrubs, and a large 
 planked playground just visible in the rear. 
 
 The schoolhouse was a tall, three-story building, 
 plain to the very eaves. It somehow bore the look 
 of a great factory, and I am inclined to think that 
 the likeness extended further, for there is a great 
 deal of machine work in our public-school system 
 at the West, as elsewhere, and the young minds 
 which are run through this intellectual mill are 
 apt to come out like pieces of modern furniture : 
 nicely seasoned, neatly joined and finished, and 
 well up to the pattern, but lacking the individual 
 stamp the old-fashioned cabinet-makers and school 
 teachers used to give. 
 
 The building had a cheery, sunshiny look. Some 
 of the windows were open, and through them came 
 the buzz of youthful voices, the light patter of feet, 
 the tinkle of low-voiced bells. From one room 
 arose a merry chorus, a little out of time and very 
 much out of tune. 
 
 " They re going to dismiss," said Martin, and 
 the children hastened up the walk, stepping softly, 
 so as not to attract attention. By the time a brisk 
 drum-beat sounded the signal for the different 
 
WAYS AND MEANS. 9 
 
 classes to fall into line, they had gained the Princi 
 pal s private office, and, closing the door, sat down 
 to await his coming. 
 
 Mr. Roberts gave a start as he saw the children, 
 for he had expected to find the room vacant, as he 
 had left it. He was a nervous man, as one may 
 well be whose occupation is a constant draught upon 
 all the nervous forces. 
 
 " You were called away from school this morn 
 ing. Nothing wrong, I hope ? " 
 
 Martin fumbled awkwardly with the fastenings 
 of his satchel. Ned stood by the master s desk, 
 fingering a glass paper-weight which he had often 
 seen there, and which at another time he would 
 never have presumed to touch. Now he lifted it as 
 recklessly as if it had been a marble, and, holding it 
 between his eye and the light, carelessly squinted 
 through it. 
 
 It was an uncouth action, but it expressed, more 
 forcibly than a more dramatic gesture, the boy s 
 inner disturbance and indifference to trivial things. 
 
 " Why, Ned, what is the matter ? " urged the 
 master, noting how the boy s face was working. 
 " No accident has happened to any of your family, 
 I hope." 
 
 " There was no family but our father," said the 
 lad in a choked voice. " Now he is " 
 
 "Dead? " said the master, in a shocked voice. 
 
 "Worse. Paralyzed. The doctor says he will 
 never get over it. They ve taken him to the hos 
 pital to stay." 
 
10 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 "Why, boys, this is bad," said Mr. Eoberts. 
 " What are you going to do ? " 
 
 It was noticeable that he did not include the lit 
 tle girl, who was standing at the window, looking 
 down upon her young playmates as they ran blithe 
 ly through the yard, on their way home to luncheon. 
 Nobody knew it then, but Hope was at that mo 
 ment saying good-by to her childhood. 
 
 " That s just the trouble," explained Ned, gather 
 ing strength as he spoke. " It has come upon us so 
 suddenly. We don t know what to do. And we 
 hadn t any one else to talk with." 
 
 " I suppose you have small means " 
 
 " Almost nothing," said Ned decisively, while a 
 sudden recollection smote him : the life insurance 
 policy, which his father had pinched himself to 
 keep up, and which he had once confided to the boy s 
 care, assuring him that it would provide amply for 
 them all in case of his death. Was he thinking of 
 it now, the lonely, helpless sufferer, wishing, per 
 haps, that it had been death that had stricken him 
 down? He tried to put the thought from his 
 mind. 
 
 " I suppose there are some things we could real 
 ize a little on," he said gravely ; " but nothing 
 that could begin to support us or to start us out in 
 anyway. We shall have to go to work, Martin 
 and I." 
 
 Mr. Roberts s face brightened. 
 
 " That s the kind of spirit that always succeeds," 
 he said heartily. "I think we can manage it. 
 
WAYS AND MEANS. 11 
 
 Probably we can hunt tip places where you can 
 go to school and work your board out of school 
 hours." 
 
 " But we don t want to be separated. We 
 promised father we would n t," objected Ned. 
 
 " Ah, yes, I see. But we must contrive a way 
 for you to keep up your studies. It would be such 
 a pity to stop now," said the teacher, gnawing his 
 moustache and wrinkling his forehead, in a way 
 that showed very plainly he did not at all see the 
 way out of the young people s dilemma. 
 
 " Mr. Roberts," said Hope, coming away from 
 the window and standing before the principal with 
 her small hands clasped before her and her shy 
 eyes upraised to his, " my father used to say that 
 the most valuable part of education was what one 
 got outside of school. Suppose we never went to 
 school any more, but read and studied at home, 
 and learned what we could from those about us. 
 Or suppose that in a few years we could earn 
 enough to take the boys through school. Would 
 they be hurt by waiting, Mr. Roberts ? " 
 
 If an oracle had found voice and spoken, the 
 schoolmaster could not have been more surprised. 
 Hitherto he had been thinking entirely of the boys, 
 fine, promising fellows as he had always regarded 
 them, and secretly regretting this check to their 
 careers. He had even thought, with pity for them, 
 that this young sister would be a heavy burden. 
 She had never been counted among his brightest pu 
 pils. If he could have seen Hope bending at night 
 
12 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 over the family mending, while the boys were deep 
 in their studies, he might have understood why she 
 always seemed a little dull and slow at her books. 
 But he had taken her at his own estimate, and lo ! 
 here she had risen up before him, like a fearless 
 little woman, and was challenging his views, at 
 tempting to reverse his judgment. 
 
 " What do you suggest ? " he asked calmly, a 
 quizzical smile playing upon his face. 
 
 " I was thinking," said the girl, flushing at his 
 tone, " that we might do better somewhere in the 
 country. It would cost less to live in some small 
 town than here in the city. Perhaps we might rent 
 a place with a little ground that we could plant. 
 We might keep chickens. And we could work for 
 other people. Of course we couldn t earn the 
 same as grown men and women, but then we would 
 not need so much to eat." 
 
 Mr. Eoberts listened gravely as she unfolded her 
 plan. Then he stole a keen glance at the boys. 
 
 " And what do you say ? " 
 
 He looked at Ned as he spoke. Martin was glad 
 it was not he who had to answer, for he had a 
 sneaking fondness for school and the playground, 
 and the noise and whirl of the city. But Ned an 
 swered in the most resolute way, 
 
 " I am ready for anything that will help us to 
 keep together and to get on in the world, sir. 
 Father always said that little Hope had more sense 
 than both of us boys put together." 
 
 He passed his arm protectingly about his sister 
 
WAYS AND MEANS. 13 
 
 for an instant. Mr. Roberts rose and took two 
 or three turns around the room in silence. The 
 children thought nothing strange of this proceed 
 ing, for they knew it was the master s way. When 
 he stopped before them again, his face was animated 
 by a new idea. 
 
 " Why don t you take up some land? " he asked. 
 
 " Take up land ! " exclaimed the three in a 
 breath. 
 
 " Yes, enter a quarter section of government 
 land, under the homestead act." 
 
 " Why, we re not old enough," cried Ned. 
 
 " And we d have to go away off from every 
 where ! " objected Martin. 
 
 " You know, Mr. Roberts, father has to stay in 
 the hospital, under the doctor s care. It would n t 
 be right to take him away," said Hope gently. 
 
 " If I m not mistaken, Ned, in view of your 
 father s hopeless incapacity, you can declare your 
 self the head of the family, and file upon any hun 
 dred and sixty acres of land that is open to entry," 
 said the master. " What is more, I am very sure 
 that across the bay and along the fruit belt of the 
 foothills, there is some excellent land still open to 
 settlement. How would you like to try it? " 
 
 Small need of answer. The children s faces 
 were radiant. To be raised in a moment from the 
 depths of poverty to the prospective ownership of a 
 hundred and sixty acres of land California land, 
 with all its splendid possibilities and latent wealth 
 was something so magnificent that they could 
 
14 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 scarcely believe in its reality. The schoolmaster 
 saw their exultation and tried to check it. 
 
 " It means hard work, plain living, and self- 
 denial years of it," he said. 
 
 " What do we care ? " exclaimed Ned with en 
 thusiasm. " It s worth it. I d work my fingers 
 to the bone for it." 
 
 " Only think : a home of our own ! " said Hope 
 softly. 
 
 " But where are we to get the ploughs and shov 
 els and farming things we shall need ? " asked 
 Martin. 
 
 " Don t borrow trouble, my boy," said the mas 
 ter pleasantly. "Once make up your mind to 
 accomplish any wise and worthy enterprise, and 
 you will generally succeed. Now go home, take 
 account of all your resources, arid report to me 
 next Saturday morning. Meanwhile, I will make 
 some inquiries, and see if I cannot give you some 
 practical intelligence. Hold yourselves ready for 
 action." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 IT was well for the children that they had some 
 thing to divide their thoughts when they entered 
 their desolate home. The house was a neat cot 
 tage, of the type commonly occupied by San Fran 
 cisco mechanics. There was a pretty little garden 
 in front, where roses and fuchsias and flowering 
 geraniums grew in great profusion. A narrow 
 plank walk ran around to the side of the house, 
 where there was a small porch, draped with honey 
 suckle and fragrant with its blossoms. They 
 climbed the steps leading to this porch, and took 
 the door key from beneath the mat, where they 
 were in the habit of secreting it. As they did so, 
 they noticed a basket containing meat and vegeta 
 bles, their father s provision for the evening meal, 
 and this simple testimony of his thoughtful care 
 brought fresh pain to their hearts. 
 
 It surprised them a little to find everything with 
 in unchanged. There were his slippers, just as he 
 had drawn them off that morning, and his morning 
 paper, neatly folded, lay on a stand at one side of 
 the room. Everything was in perfect order, left so 
 by the deft hands of Biddy McGinnis, who came 
 
16 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 every forenoon to wash the dishes that had accumu 
 lated since the previous morning, and to tidy up 
 the house. They could not afford to keep a regu 
 lar servant, and this had been their father s way of 
 lightening their home cares since their mother s 
 death. 
 
 They came out of the house, and sitting down on 
 the steps of the little porch, took out the luncheons 
 they had carried in their satchels, and tried to eat ; 
 but after a weak pretense they gave up the effort, 
 and the two younger welcomed Ned s proposal that 
 they should follow Mr. Roberta s advice and count 
 up their resources. 
 
 The next morning Ned stepped around to Mr. 
 Abraham s store, and showed him the list of things 
 that they had decided they could spare, and asked 
 him to come over and look at them. 
 
 Mr. Abraham was the Israelite who kept the 
 second-hand store around the corner, on Mission 
 Street. He was a small man, with bright black 
 eyes and shoulders that drooped forward. Mrs. 
 Abraham was very large and stout, and stooped the 
 other way. They had known the children ever 
 since they came into the neighborhood, and always 
 had a kind word for them as they passed by. 
 
 This worthy pair listened with genuine sympathy 
 to the story Ned told. They had children of their 
 own, and knew how to feel for other people s chil 
 dren. 
 
 " Mein Gott, dat iss pad ! " said Mr. Abraham 
 soberly. 
 
THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 17 
 
 " An vwhat vill you pe doing, mein poor poys? " 
 asked Mrs. Abraham, with unctuous kindness, 
 while tears of honest sympathy ran down her cheeks. 
 " Iff you likes to ko into de secont-hant pizness, 
 now, mein huspant he peen talking of hiring a 
 poy ; he coot not gif mooch moneys, pecause de 
 times dey iss so hart, but " 
 
 " Vilhelmine ! Vilhelmine ! " interrupted her lit 
 tle husband in a severe voice. " Mens moost attent 
 to deir own pizness. It iss not proper mit voomans 
 to mettle. You go ant get some dose gookies vat 
 you peen pakin dis mornin , ant sent ofer to de 
 leetle girl. Now, me,in poy," turning again to Ned, 
 "vat iss it you peen sayin , eh? You got some 
 vernicher to sell ? " 
 
 " Here is a list of the things," said Ned. " Or 
 perhaps you would rather come over to the house, 
 and look at the things yourself ? " 
 
 " Dat is mooch petter," agreed Mr. Abraham. 
 
 Wilhelmine came in at that moment with the 
 cookies, which Ned accepted with reluctance. 
 Leaving the good woman to mind the store in his 
 absence, her better if not greater half seized his 
 hat and walked off with alacrity. 
 
 Mr. Abraham had a tender heart, but business 
 was business, and with a large family of children 
 of his own, their interests must be attended to first. 
 Ned had securely reckoned upon receiving at least 
 three fourths of the original cost of the goods he 
 offered for sale, for the most of them were new, 
 and all of them were well kept ; but his heart sank 
 
18 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 as Mr. Abraham found moth holes in the parlor 
 furniture, and pointed out a faded place in the 
 carpet, and discovered scratches on the rest of the 
 furniture, and turned the chairs upside down and 
 the wardrobe inside out, and pronounced everything 
 old-fashioned that was n t worn out, and everything 
 worn-out that was n t old-fashioned. 
 
 Mr. Abraham made a list of his own, as the chil 
 dren pointed out the things to him. When he had 
 finished, his list, with the prices he was willing to 
 give, ran as follows : 
 
 Parlor furniture $16.00 
 
 Marble-topped table 3.50 
 
 Tapestry carpeting 7.00 
 
 Bedroom carpeting 4.00 
 
 Hatstand 6.50 
 
 Little table 1.00 
 
 Wardrobe 4.00 
 
 Parlor curtains 2.00 
 
 Dining table 5.00 
 
 Six cane-seat chairs 3.00 
 
 Garden hose 1.00 
 
 Lounge 5.00 
 
 Odds and ends 5.00 
 
 Total $63.00 
 
 " Dat iss mooch more as de tings is vort," he 
 said. " I haf hart vork to get mem moneys pack." 
 
 " But the things cost over two hundred dollars. 
 Most of them are as good as new, Mr. Abraham," 
 protested Ned. 
 
THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 19 
 
 " All right. You goes to some odder secont-hant 
 man ; den you vill see how mooch he gifs. I tell 
 you I gifs mooch more dan anypotty else," and Mr. 
 Abraham made a gesture as if he designed washing 
 his hands of the whole transaction. 
 
 So the children walked back and forth through 
 the house again, Mr. Abraham with them, singling 
 out now this article, now that, to add to the list, 
 and when they had finished and counted out all 
 that they could possibly spare, the second-hand 
 man s estimate ran up to eighty-nine dollars and 
 some odd cents, and he only awaited their orders to 
 come and take the goods and pay the money for 
 them. 
 
 When they arrived at the schoolmaster s house 
 on Saturday, they found him seated at the desk in 
 his study, with an open letter before him. 
 
 "Well?" he said, as the boys took seats beside 
 him. 
 
 " We acted on your advice, Mr. Roberts," re 
 plied Ned. " We made a list of all the things we 
 had that would be useful on a ranch, and another 
 list of all that we could spare. By selling these 
 we can raise a little over eighty-nine dollars, less 
 what it costs us to live while we stay here." 
 
 The schoolmaster knit his brows. 
 
 " That is very little," he said. " What have you 
 to begin on, besides that ? " 
 
 Ned pulled a memorandum from his pocket. 
 It was very clear and concise. Mr. Roberts 
 read : 
 
20 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 "Working clothing enough for one year. 
 Cook stove. 
 Kitchen table. 
 Three chairs. 
 One rocker. 
 Two beds and bedding. 
 Plenty of dishes and table linen. 
 One small carpet. 
 One screen safe for food. 
 
 One meal chest, nearly full of white flour, oat 
 meal and corn meal, and graham flour. 
 Kitchen utensils. 
 One bureau. 
 One sewing machine. 
 One lounge. 
 Garden tools : rake, hoe, and spade. 
 
 " You seem to have made a very wise selection, 
 boys," said Mr. Koberts. " But speaking of garden 
 tools reminds me of something else. Your father 
 was a cabinet-maker. Didn t he have a set of 
 tools?" 
 
 " Of course he did," replied Martin quickly. 
 "And the nicest ones you ever saw a whole kit 
 everything from a brad-awl to a spirit-level! " 
 
 " Yes, he had," averred Ned. " And they had n t 
 been used long. It can t be more than a year since 
 he sold his old tools and bought new ones." 
 
 " The tools would come handy for you, no doubt," 
 said Mr. Roberts, "but it would be several years 
 before you could handle them to advantage. A 
 
THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 21 
 
 good set of tools ought to be worth somewhere from 
 fifty to a hundred dollars," he added thoughtfully. 
 " Have you seen anybody from the factory since ? " 
 
 " No, sir," replied Ned. " We could n t expect 
 it. The men work early and late. They never 
 have any time to spare until Saturday night." 
 
 " I think I 11 take time by the forelock and go 
 there to-day," observed the master. " Now, boys, 
 I have a letter here that came last night. It is 
 from Dr. John, the friend I spoke of, who lives in 
 the interior of Alameda County. You shall have it, 
 word for word, as he wrote it. It is dated at his 
 little country place." 
 
 September 5, 188-. 
 
 FRIEND ROBERTS, Your letter of inquiry re 
 garding government land open to settlement in this 
 vicinity reached me to-night, and I hasten to reply. 
 
 Within a radius of ten miles of this place, a 
 dozen or more " locations " could probably be made. 
 These tracts are generally at a considerable eleva 
 tion along the Coast Range, and are alike in charac 
 ter. The ground is rocky and hilly, affording fair 
 pasturage during the winter months, but offering 
 almost insuperable obstacles to cultivation. Here 
 and there a fertile spot may be found, consisting of 
 a sheltered saddle or bench, a few acres in extent ; 
 but all are open to the same drawbacks : inaccessi 
 bility and distance from any good wagon road, and 
 therefore from market. 
 
 There is, however, one quarter section lying close 
 to me, upon which nobody places any value, but 
 
22 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 which I should seriously consider if I were about to 
 enter land. To explain its situation clearly, I must 
 first make you acquainted with The Brook. Why 
 " The Brook," I do not precisely know, but I be 
 lieve there was once a dispute over its christening, 
 and as the people could not agree on any other 
 name, they compromised on this simple title. . . . 
 This mountain stream rises at the summit of the 
 Coast Kange, and crosses the mountains through a 
 picturesque canon, coursing through our little vil 
 lage on its way to the Bay. Ordinarily it is a de 
 mure and well-behaved traveler, although abound 
 ing in deep pools and dangerous quicksands. In 
 the winter time it wears a different aspect. You 
 must know that it has for its watershed a vast area 
 of mountain country, many hundreds of miles in 
 extent. . . . When the winter s rains come down 
 bravely, and clouds hover for days along the sum 
 mit of the Range, The Brook is swelled by hun 
 dreds and thousands of tiny rivulets. Little by lit 
 tle it gathers force and volume, until it swells into 
 a thing of terror, which sweeps down the valley with 
 a deafening roar. When in this mood, nothing can 
 stay it. It seizes upon giant trees, uprooting them 
 like grasses and tossing them like babes on its 
 bosom. It makes sallies to right and to left, 
 snatching at fences and outbuildings that unwary 
 farmers place too near its course, channeling in 
 scriptions in the solid rock. Long ago people 
 learned to give it a wide berth. Nobody would 
 dare to build up the canon, if, indeed, they could 
 
THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 23 
 
 conveniently get there. At certain points further 
 down the valley, the people found they had the 
 advantage of the stream and determined to keep 
 it, and so constructed costly iron bridges, which 
 serve to connect sections of the valley in winter 
 time, but which there is no traffic or population to 
 justify up our way. Now to describe the land of 
 which I speak : My own place borders upon The 
 Brook at a point where the bed is full of quick 
 sands. Just opposite lies this quarter section, a 
 very pretty stretch of land, comprising a small cres 
 cent of level and gently sloping ground, bounded by 
 the stream in front and the mountains on either 
 hand, while the remainder extends up the steep hill 
 side and embraces a thickly wooded gorge. Near 
 as the place seems, it can only be reached by a 
 steep trail leading back over the mountains, and 
 connecting with a rough country road at a point 
 some fifteen miles distant from the nearest railroad 
 station. . . . The land was entered, some ten years 
 ago, by a thriftless sort of fellow, who put up some 
 rough buildings, and then gave up in disgust and 
 abandoned the claim. His failure discouraged any 
 one else from trying it. ... In my judgment, the 
 lower level is of rich alluvial soil, and could be 
 made very productive with careful cultivation. . . . 
 I don t know what buildings there are over there ; 
 probably there is something that could be made 
 habitable in this accommodating climate. The lit 
 tle gorge ought to afford plenty of firewood. Tak 
 ing it all in all, the place might be made fairly 
 
24 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 profitable, and the situation is beautiful to anybody 
 capable of appreciating such things. 
 
 The drawbacks are most definite and uncompro 
 mising. The place is extremely difficult to reach, 
 and once there, there would be little opportunity to 
 get out. If your young people should go there, 
 they must count upon leading a lonely and se 
 cluded life. They will be in a state of siege for 
 months every winter, when the trail will be impas 
 sable. 
 
 Don t ask me whether I advise it. Everything 
 depends on what kind of stuff they are made of. 
 You say there is a girl ; so much the worse for her 
 and the better for them. 
 
 Yours truly, DR. JOHN. 
 
 I inclose memoranda of the location, in case you 
 should like to use it. If the children decide to 
 come, consign them to me, and I will find some 
 way of getting them and their belongings there. 
 
 " Dr. John ! What a singular letter and what 
 an odd name," remarked Martin. 
 
 " Yes," said the schoolmaster absently. " I have 
 always fancied that he was a man with a history." 
 
 Martin looked curious, and would have followed 
 his remarks with a question, but Ned, who had 
 been lost in deep thought, forestalled him : 
 
 " I will take the land," he said. 
 
 The schoolmaster looked both surprised and 
 pleased at this decisive speech. Martin was dis- 
 
THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 25 
 
 posed to feel somewhat aggrieved. He had ex 
 pected to be consulted and to have a voice in the 
 matter ; but he hastened to sustain his dignity by 
 giving his own vote. 
 
 " All right, Ned. I m with you." 
 
 "I like that," said Mr. Roberts cordially, ad 
 dressing Ned. " And now I am going to make an 
 other suggestion. As a rule, you know my maxim 
 is to Make haste slowly ; but in this case every 
 minute you wait is so much precious time lost. It 
 is now nearly ten. What do you say to meeting 
 me at the United States Land Office at eleven ? " 
 
 " That will suit me, Mr. Eoberts," replied Ned. 
 
 "Another thing," said the schoolmaster as he 
 rose, eyeing the boys nervously. " I am going to 
 bequeath to you a serious and important charge. I 
 arn going to give you my heifer calf." 
 
 That heifer calf ! The boys forgot their dignity 
 and burst into hearty laughter. The pretty little 
 Jersey, the gift of a devoted pupil, had been the 
 master s plague and Nemesis for months past. It 
 had drawn him into more scrapes than Mary s lit 
 tle lamb had beguiled its mistress. It was forever 
 escaping from his own adjoining yard into the 
 school grounds, frightening timid children, and 
 driving bold ones wild with delight. It had 
 lunched one day on the experimental garden 
 planted by the botany class. It had browsed on 
 school satchels and hats and coats in the entry. 
 It had once been imprisoned in the principal s 
 room by some mischievous urchins, and, escaping, 
 
26 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 wandered into a class-room and greeted some visit 
 ing directors with a loud " Baa-aa-aa ! " and then 
 had shamelessly proclaimed its ownership by stick 
 ing its nose into its master s pocket to find some 
 hidden sweets. It had brought him into disgrace 
 with the Board, and narrowly escaped becoming the 
 subject of litigation in the courts. It had even 
 now helped him into one more scrape, for there 
 in the open doorway stood the donor of the calf, 
 a handsome, curly-headed boy, his face red with 
 vexation. 
 
 " If you don t want Beauty, Mr. Roberts, I 11 find 
 somebody who does. I think you might have had 
 the politeness to tell me so, instead of joking about 
 it with the other boys. As for you, Ned, and you, 
 Martin, you dare to lay one finger to that calf, and 
 I ll" 
 
 "Thomas Bateman, be silent. Go and sit in 
 that chair. I will talk with you later," commanded 
 Mr. Roberts, in the tone of authority that no one 
 ever dared disobey. " Now, boys, you may go ; but 
 don t fail to meet me at the Land Office at eleven, 
 sharp." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HEAD OF A FAMILY. 
 
 AFTER a short talk with his refractory visitor, 
 Mr. Eoberts betook himself to the large furniture 
 factory in the lower portion of the city. He was 
 referred to the tall foreman, who proved to be a 
 working partner of the firm. 
 
 " Oh, yes, those poor little shavers of Austin s ! " 
 he said, folding his arms and looking troubled. 
 " It s a hard case. The men are going to do some 
 thing for them to-night. Saturday s pay-day, you 
 know." 
 
 "You can t reach them in that way," said the 
 schoolmaster with decision. 
 
 " Eh ? " said the foreman, looking puzzled. 
 
 " The boys are young, but they have character," 
 insisted Mr. Eoberts. " They don t want charity. 
 They mean to take care of themselves." 
 
 " But we can t see a man drop right down among 
 us, and not raise a finger to help his family, and 
 a pack of poor little youngsters at that." 
 
 " Then help them in a different way. Mr. Aus 
 tin has a chest of tools here, has he not ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, and in the best of order. A good work 
 man always takes good care of his tools." 
 
28 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Can t you sell them at a good price ? The boys 
 need money. You could help them in that way, 
 without hurting their self-respect." 
 
 The foreman excused himself for a moment, and 
 consulted with others of the firm. When he came 
 back he brought a check for a hundred dollars. 
 
 "Shall we make this payable to you, Mr. 
 Roberts?" 
 
 " Make it payable to Ned Edward Austin. He 
 is the head of the family now, and we must look 
 upon him as a man henceforth." 
 
 Ned did not look at all like a man or the head 
 of a family, but like a very slight, careworn boy, 
 when the young people joined their friend, on the 
 steps of the Treasury Building. 
 
 In the Land Office, at the counter where entries 
 were made, the clerk was busily talking with a lady, 
 and* excused himself to Mr. Roberts with an apolo 
 getic word. Martin possessed himself of a pamphlet 
 lying on the counter, while Ned got his data ready, 
 and anxiously awaited his turn. 
 
 The lady who was talking with the clerk appeared 
 to be an old acquaintance. She was a pretty woman, 
 and stylishly dressed. 
 
 " Now do advise me ! " she exclaimed in a coax 
 ing tone. " "Would you preempt it or homestead 
 it ? Which is the least trouble ? " 
 
 " If you preempt it, it will cost you a dollar and 
 a quarter an acre, and you 11 have to live on it for 
 six months. If you homestead it, the fees and 
 commissions only amount to twenty-two dollars : 
 
THE HEAD OF A FAMILY. 29 
 
 sixteen when you enter it, and six more on final 
 proof. But you 11 have to live on it for five 
 years." 
 
 " Five years ? You don t mean it ! " cried the 
 lady, with a little scream of horror. " Would n t 
 once a week or twice a month do ? " 
 
 " You might make it 4 do, " said the clerk, with 
 a meaning smile. " But you d have to run risks. 
 Somebody might be watching." 
 
 "Five years! Oh, that would never do," said 
 the lady impatiently. "What does government 
 suppose I want to take up its old land for? I 
 want the money for it." 
 
 "So do most people," said the clerk, with an 
 other expressive smile. 
 
 "Now preempting sounds more sensible," con 
 tinued the lady ; " though how in the world I m 
 going to bury myself there for six months I don t 
 see. Say, don t you suppose if I dress up a dummy 
 and set it at the window, I can come down to the 
 city in disguise every week or so, to go to the 
 theatre and do a little shopping?" 
 
 " Woman s wit will probably circumvent all ob 
 stacles," replied the clerk. 
 
 " And then, at the end of six months, I d have 
 to pay let me see : a hundred and sixty times 
 one dollar and twenty-five cents. Oh, dear, I ve 
 such a poor head for figures. How much would 
 that be?" 
 
 " Two hundred dollars." 
 
 " I d have to pay two hundred dollars. And I 
 
30 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 can get thirty dollars an acre for the land as soon 
 as I get the title. And thirty times one hundred 
 and sixty why, it s forty-eight hundred. And 
 take away the two hundred dollars, leaves forty-six 
 hundred dollars. That s not a bad speculation 
 after all ! " And she laughed triumphantly. 
 
 ".Let me see your forms, or whatever you call 
 them. Oh, if you please ! " extending her hand for 
 Martin s open book, on whose page she caught sight 
 of the clause she wished to see. 
 
 44 But see what it says here," cried Martin, point 
 ing to the affidavit. " / do solemnly swear . . . 
 nor have I settled upon and improved said land 
 to sell the same on speculation, but in good 
 faith; 9 " 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " exclaimed the lady hastily. 
 
 " But don t you have to take your solemn oath 
 you have n t ? " questioned the boy. 
 
 " What a little goose ! " laughed the lady, re 
 covering herself. " Why, everybody does so. Peo 
 ple are doing it every day. Thousands and thou 
 sands of acres are entered that way every year, and 
 every one knows it." 
 
 " And is n t swearing to something that is n t 
 true, perjury ? " insisted Martin stoutly. 
 
 " That s enough, young man," hastily interposed 
 the clerk. " It s all a matter of form. Everybody 
 understands it." 
 
 Meanwhile, somebody had been looking up the 
 boys claim, and found it open to entry. 
 
 " Of course your residence is already on the land ? 
 
THE HEAD OF A FAMILY. 31 
 
 You know that is necessary in entering a homestead 
 claim ? " said the man, addressing Mr. Koberts. 
 
 "No, sir, I was not aware of that. This is a 
 new complication, Ned. You 11 have to move up 
 there first, and then come down to the city and 
 make the entry. This is the young man who ex 
 pects to enter the land," explained Mr. Roberts. 
 
 The entry clerk caught the words, and looked at 
 the boys with surprise tinctured with disfavor, for 
 Martin s blunt speeches had not aroused the good 
 will of the office. 
 
 " You don t mean to say that you are twenty-one 
 years old, young man ? " he demanded, eying Ned 
 with suspicion. 
 
 " No, sir ; but I am the head of the family." 
 
 " Father and mother both dead, eh ? " 
 
 " The mother is dead," interposed Mr. Roberts 
 in a low voice. 
 
 " And the father ? " 
 
 " Here is the physician s certificate, showing that 
 he is hopelessly incapacitated." 
 
 44 1 can t think of permitting such a thing," said 
 the clerk harshly. " Never had such a case before 
 to my knowledge. The Department would never 
 allow it." 
 
 44 Well, boys, we shall have to give it up," said 
 the schoolmaster sadly. 
 
 Ned came forward, his face pale, but his eyes 
 resolute, making one last, brave stand. 
 
 44 1 want to see the Land Registrar himself," he 
 demanded. 
 
32 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 The clerk held a hurried consultation with his 
 superior. The latter finally came forward, his fine 
 face lighted with interest. 
 
 " You want to take up land, eh ? Turn rancher ? 
 What for?" 
 
 "To make a home and earn a living for my 
 brother and sister and myself," replied Ned 
 promptly. 
 
 "Not afraid of hard work? Don t mind leav 
 ing the city?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Well, I have two boys at home, and I wish 
 they had half your pluck," said the gentleman. 
 " Now as to this application of yours. It s irregu 
 lar, I must own. But I can t see why it should n t 
 hold. If a man runs away and deserts his family, 
 his widow, and presumably his minor child, in the 
 case of her death, may declare themselves heads of 
 the family, and enter land accordingly. When 
 an honest man is stricken down by disease, I can t 
 see why members of his family should n t be enti 
 tled to the same privilege. It may arouse some 
 discussion in Washington, but if you can afford to 
 take the risk, I think we can and will. You go 
 up and settle on the land, and then enter it in the 
 office of the county clerk of Alameda County. If 
 he makes any objection, refer him to me." 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 TOM S APOLOGY. 
 
 THERE was nothing left for the children to do 
 but to prepare their simple possessions for ship 
 ment. Nearly all of their little circle of friends 
 testified their sympathy and good will in some prac 
 tical manner. Biddy McGinnis brought a coop 
 containing a hen and a brood of chickens. The 
 grocery man at the corner pressed upon them some 
 packages of garden seeds. Even Mr. Abraham, 
 impelled in part, no doubt, by his wife, brought to 
 each of the boys a stout suit of overalls and jumper 
 for farm work, when he came to take away the 
 furniture they had sold him. Their landlord re 
 turned to them half of the month s rent, which had 
 been paid in advance. A thriftless mechanic, one 
 of their father s fellow-workmen, came up one day, 
 leading a half-starved, broken-down old horse, and 
 explained that he wanted them to accept the ani 
 mal in settlement of a debt of twenty dollars that 
 he owed their father. 
 
 " If you can make any use of this old mare," he 
 said, " you re welcome to her. She s old and 
 banged up, and she looks bad because she s been 
 straw-fed ; but she s sound, and gentle as a kitten." 
 
34 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 The boys accepted the bony old mare, although 
 they were almost ashamed to drive her down to the 
 ferry ; but they reasoned that after all she was a 
 horse, capable of work, and they secretly hoped 
 good pasturage might improve her. 
 
 A few evenings before they left, they had a sur 
 prise. They were startled by the sound of a noisy 
 altercation at the gate, then a stampede up the 
 walk. 
 
 Two voices, a boy s and a man s, were heard out 
 side ; then there was a clatter as if a squad of in 
 fantry had raced upon the little porch. There 
 were gruff murmurs and smothered laughter. 
 
 The boys, thoroughly alarmed, sprang to the 
 door and flung it open. 
 
 On the porch a man and a boy were wrestling 
 with something very strong and very active, and 
 very wild and unmanageable ; something that was 
 spotted, dun-color and white, and had eyes like a 
 fawn, and long silken ears that pricked up as the 
 door opened, in a very knowing fashion. 
 
 " That 11 do, Jim," said the boy, in the tone of 
 one accustomed to giving orders. " I ve got her 
 now. You can go." 
 
 The man lifted his hat to the children, and dis 
 appeared into the darkness. 
 
 " Baa-aa-aa ! " 
 
 Surely they knew the familiar call. 
 
 " Beauty? " said Ned, amazed. 
 
 " That s what s the matter," replied Tom Bate- 
 man, for it was he, avoiding Ned s eye as he se- 
 
TOM S APOLOGY. 35 
 
 cured the rope to one of the posts. " Afraid you 
 might forget her knew you were awful busy. 
 Thought I d bring her along myself." 
 
 But Ned was a boy, too, and he still smarted 
 under a sense of indignity at the savage threats 
 young Bateman had made at the schoolmaster s 
 house the previous week. Such an offense was not 
 to be condoned in a moment. 
 
 " I don t want your calf," he said bluntly. 
 " Keep her yourself." 
 
 * Just then Hope appeared at the door, drawing 
 back shyly as she recognized the visitor. 
 
 " Good-evening, Hope," said Tom, smiling. 
 
 Hope accepted this greeting with a little nod, 
 and stepped out to caress Beauty, who gave a 
 friendly bleat at sight of her. 
 
 Something had happened the Saturday before ; 
 something that Hope had not told the boys. 
 
 After they had left the house, she had gone out 
 on the back steps to have the " good cry " that she 
 had been promising herself, the only relief that 
 her overcharged heart could find. She had been 
 holding back all the week, and the tears rained 
 down thick and fast, while her slight form shook 
 with the sobs she could no longer control. Sitting, 
 or rather lying there, with her head pillowed on her 
 arms, she was unconscious of everything about 
 her. 
 
 A moment later Tom Bateman came along the 
 walk at the side of the house, and opened the gate 
 in the tall lattice-work that separated the front yard 
 
36 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 from the back. He thrust his head through the 
 opening, and called out, in a cautious voice, as if 
 not sure what sort of reception he might meet : 
 
 " Boys ! " 
 
 Hope raised her head and recognized him, and 
 tried to recover her self-command, but could not. 
 Dropping her face again upon her arms, she sobbed 
 as if her heart would break. 
 
 " Why, Hope ! " said Tom. 
 
 He was a big boy, in class A, of the first Gram 
 mar grade, and she was a little girl, grades and 
 grades below him ; but from the time he had first 
 seen her she had reminded him of a little sister he 
 had lost, and whom, for love s sake and the pain 
 the memory cost him, he had tried hard to forget. 
 
 But now he sat down on the step beside her, and 
 drew the little girl into his arms, and made a clumsy 
 effort to quiet and console her. 
 
 " Don t cry," he said. " It s a terrible thing, I 
 know. Mr. Roberts has been telling me about it. 
 But you can t help matters by crying. You 11 just 
 take away the boys pluck." 
 
 " But the boys are n t here ! " sobbed the 
 child. 
 
 " But I am, and I can t stand it. Do stop, 
 Hope ! You 11 kill yourself, crying so. Would 
 that make it easier for them or your father ? " 
 
 He had succeeded in quieting her at last, and he 
 dried her eyes with a handkerchief not very im 
 maculate, and before he left wrung from her a re 
 luctant promise that she would not cry any more. 
 
TOWS APOLOGY. 37 
 
 "When you feel like it, just tear round the 
 house and bang things about, and make other peo 
 ple feel bad. That s the way I do." 
 
 Hope laughed. 
 
 " But don t tell the boys," she implored him. 
 
 The consciousness of this innocent secret embar 
 rassed them both at this next meeting ; but it made 
 Tom all the more determined to establish pleasant 
 relations with the brothers of the little girl who 
 had sobbed out her sorrows in his arms. 
 
 " Don t be spunky, Ned," urged Tom in a low 
 voice. " I did n t know I had n t heard any 
 thing about why you left school, you know. Be 
 sides, Beauty really is a terrible nuisance. She s 
 getting dangerous. Pier horns are growing. You 
 don t want her to go to the slaughter house. The 
 4 governor declares he 11 send her there if he finds 
 her round another day." 
 
 Ned could but own that he would not like to 
 have the pretty creature meet such a tragical fate. 
 
 There was a tone of filial indifference in Tom s 
 reference to his father that neither of the other 
 children could understand, having been reared 
 under widely different conditions. Tom Bateman 
 was the type of many a San Francisco boy, whose 
 father was given over to business speculations and 
 his mother to society. It sometimes occurred to 
 Tom that he was not very well acquainted with 
 his parents. It is needless to say that no thought 
 of this came to either of the boys as they stood 
 on the steps of the narrow portico, the one eager, 
 
38 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 apologetic, determined ; the other reluctant and 
 wavering. 
 
 " There s no question but that Beauty would 
 ruin Mr. Roberts if he kept her three months 
 longer. The directors have got their eye on her, 
 and either she 11 have to go, or he 11 be fired. If 
 she could only get out in the country and be put on 
 grass or alfalfa, there d be some reason in it. But 
 when it comes to keeping her on schoolbooks and 
 hats, and satchels, and choice roses, and orchids 
 she cleaned out all the orchids in our conservatory 
 yesterday (you see Mr. Eoberts made me take her 
 home," he confessed, in an embarrassed aside), 
 " she s she s ruination. Hold on ! She s got 
 your handkerchief now." 
 
 So she had, and was calmly chewing it, with the 
 anticipation of a new and delicate cud by and by. 
 The shout that went up at this discovery restored 
 good feeling between the boys, and emboldened 
 Tom to discharge another errand, no act of atone 
 ment in this instance, but a pure, unselfish impulse 
 to give a lift to the boy friends whose way must 
 henceforth be an uphill climb. 
 
 " Look here, boys," he cried, kneeling down and 
 fitting a key to the lock of the large, solid-looking 
 box the man had put down on the porch, " can t 
 you make some use of these things out on your 
 ranch?" 
 
 He threw up the lid as he spoke, disclosing what 
 had been a well-appointed chest of boy s tools, of 
 excellent manufacture, but in sad disorder. 
 
TOM S APOLOGY. 39 
 
 "Oh, Tom! We couldn t think of such a 
 thing. You ll want them yourself," exclaimed 
 both boys in a breath. 
 
 " No, I don t. Have n t got the least mechanical 
 genius in the world. Can t drive a nail without 
 hitting my fingers. You 11 find them in an awful 
 mess, though. I broke the bull-nose plane the day 
 I got them, trying to scrape a nail out of my boot. 
 And last week I turned a screw on my bicycle with 
 the chisel, and nicked a piece out of it. Now, boys, 
 I must be going. Success to you on the ranch ! 
 Good-by, Hope. I m coining up to see you all 
 some day." 
 
 He was off before they could say a word of 
 thanks. 
 
 Before they left, Ned took a very practical and 
 sensible step. He went to a locksmith close by, a 
 curious old man who had the reputation of being a 
 veritable jack-at-all-trades, and served a brief ap 
 prenticeship in various simple crafts with which he 
 foresaw that it might be valuable to be acquainted. 
 He learned how to set a pane of glass, to sharpen 
 tools, to file and set a saw, to hang a door, and to 
 do innumerable other things that to procure done 
 is the torment of the average farmer. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MAN WITH A HISTORY. 
 
 THEY said good-by to their little home, to their 
 few friends, to the very streets their young feet had 
 trod since infancy. They paid one last sorrowful 
 visit to the hospital, and stood by their father s 
 bedside, endeavoring to make him understand their 
 project, turning away with full hearts as they 
 thought they saw an expression of approval in the 
 patient eyes. Now they were on the cable cars, 
 gliding down Market Street to the ferry, so ab 
 sorbed in their own thoughts that they did not see 
 the tangle of vehicles that thronged the streets, all 
 converging to a focus at the water front. And 
 now they were on the boat, three small units in a 
 vast, bustling, cosmopolitan crowd, each factor in 
 tent upon its own interests and purposes. And 
 now they were on the train, speeding to a new home 
 and a new life. 
 
 Their goods, along with Beauty and the coop of 
 chickens, had been shipped the day before, con 
 signed to Dr. John. It was very natural, as the 
 train passed Oakland and Fruit Yale, and began 
 to move through the open country, that each of tha 
 young travelers should be thinking of this same 
 
THE MAN WITH A HISTORY. 41 
 
 Dr. John, each in a different manner and from a 
 different point of view. They burst into speech 
 almost at the same time. 
 
 " I hope we shall like him," said Ned. 
 
 " I wonder if he will like us," said Hope. 
 
 " If he 11 only tell us stories of his adventures ! " 
 cried Martin. 
 
 Ned and Hope smiled at this outburst. Ever 
 since Mr. Roberts had dropped the remark that 
 Dr. John was a man with a history, Martin had 
 been feeding his boyish imagination with every sort 
 of wild conception wherein the doctor figured as 
 the hero. 
 
 But Oakland was ten miles behind them, and 
 they were coming to a place where a spur of the 
 .foothills descended, in gentle undulations, to the 
 level of the valley. The hills loomed higher and 
 approached ever nearer, until they took on the dig 
 nity of young mountains. Little farmhouses were 
 seen along their base and halfway up their slopes, 
 and now and then an ambitious building, with elab 
 orate grounds, where semitropical shrubs and fruits 
 flourished. 
 
 The train slackened speed, and came to a stand 
 still, and the conductor shouted a name that caused 
 the boys to grasp their valise and bundles, and 
 Hope to hug closer the flower-pot in which she had 
 planted slips from their small city garden. 
 
 The brothers ran lightly down the steps, Ned 
 turning to help Hope down, while Martin looked 
 eagerly around. 
 
42 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 They found themselves on a broad platform sur 
 rounding a neat station house. The depot was a 
 long red building, and at the further end was a gar 
 den, through gaps in whose high hedge glimpses 
 could be had of rosebushes and of orange-trees 
 laden with half -matured fruit. There were many 
 people on the platform, and Martin scanned them 
 critically to find among them some impressive fig 
 ure, the man for whom he was looking : " the man 
 with a history." 
 
 It was hard to decide upon him. There were 
 porters and train hands, trundling heavy trucks 
 and shouting hoarse orders. There were brisk-look 
 ing travelers coming and going. There was a 
 young man taking leave of his young wife, and an 
 old gentleman welcoming home his old wife. At 
 one side of the platform a ranchman, wearing a gray 
 felt hat, who had just stepped out of a light wagon, 
 was trying to calm his horse, a noble bay with a 
 long, arched neck and a beautiful eye, who shivered 
 with terror at every puff of the engine, and seemed 
 possessed with an uncontrollable desire to leap for 
 ward upon the platform and dash herself against 
 her iron rival. 
 
 The children forgot all about the doctor, as they 
 watched the calm, sympathetic control that the 
 farmer exercised over the horse. Every time the 
 animal plunged forward it found itself checked by 
 his vice-like grasp upon the bridle. Then he would 
 stroke it gently, and seem to reason with it, and 
 quiet it with soothing words. 
 
THE MAN WITH A HISTORY. 43 
 
 Just then the door of the refreshment room at 
 tached to the depot opened, the boys afterwards 
 learned that this was merely another name for the 
 barroom, and a tall, distinguished-looking man 
 came out wiping his lips. He was dressed in black, 
 and had a fierce black mustache, and carried him 
 self with great dignity. In one hand was a gold- 
 headed cane, in the other a small black morocco 
 case. 
 
 Here was the model hero of romance. Martin s 
 eyes sparkled. Ned and Hope beheld him with 
 sinking hearts. Something in the dark, handsome 
 face aroused in them a nameless repulsion. 
 
 The tall gentleman caught sight of the farmer 
 struggling with the spirited horse. Several by 
 standers had by this time gathered around horse 
 and master, and each offered some friendly advice. 
 The tall stranger joined them. He also had a piece 
 of counsel to offer : 
 
 " What s the use of fooling with an animal in 
 that fashion ? " he demanded impatiently. " You 
 take a stout whip and lay it over him, raise the 
 welts on his back, and you won t have any more 
 tr9uble with him." 
 
 " That is n t my way, doctor," said the farmer 
 quietly. 
 
 At last the animal yielded to the firm and gentle 
 control, and stood perfectly still, only shivering 
 slightly as the engine, with one wild whistle and 
 snort, thundered off down the steel track. She 
 watched the flying train until it rounded a curve, 
 
44 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 then gave an apologetic whinny, and laid her nose 
 on her master s shoulder, docile as a kitten. 
 
 The tall gentleman turned away with a sneering 
 expression on his face. 
 
 " Dr. John ! " 
 
 It was Martin, who gave a quick step forward 
 and hailed him. 
 
 " Here, my boy. Where are the rest of you ? " 
 
 A hearty voice, with a ring of honest welcome. 
 Martin stopped short, and Ned and Hope looked 
 pleasantly bewildered, for wonder of wonders 
 it was the ranchman who spoke, and who now came 
 cordially forward, relieving them of their burdens, 
 and bidding them jump into the two-seated wagon, 
 while he went off to see about their luggage. 
 
 Martin, smarting under the sense of his error, 
 looked critically at Dr. John, and saw only a man 
 of medium height and slender figure, who moved and 
 spoke and acted precisely like other men. Under 
 the gray felt hat appeared the face of a man of 
 forty-odd years, very bright when he was speaking, 
 and very sober in repose. 
 
 There was not the least suggestion of the hero 
 about him, and Martin felt defrauded. So this 
 wonderful Dr. John was only an everyday, ordi 
 nary man, who could be grave or gay, silent or talk 
 ative, gentle or severe, as the occasion demanded. 
 
 Ned helped his sister into the wagon, but re 
 mained standing on the platform. 
 
 It was evident that Dr. John was a general fa 
 vorite, from the friendly greetings he received as he 
 
THE MAN WITH A HISTORY. . 45 
 
 moved along the platform. Some of the loiterers, 
 mostly villagers of respectability and farmers look 
 ing after shipments of produce, drew near and ad 
 dressed friendly inquiries to the children. They 
 seemed to be at once adopted into the little com 
 munity, because they were Dr. John s charges. 
 
 " What is it, Ned ? " said Dr. John, as he came 
 up and saw the boy s waiting attitude. 
 
 This way of addressing them by their Christian 
 names seemed to place the children on a near and 
 friendly footing from the first. 
 
 " I must have a freight bill to pay. I would like 
 to settle it now," Ned replied. 
 
 The children could not understand the merri 
 ment that this remark seemed to arouse among the 
 bystanders, and which appeared to be directed at a 
 stout, bustling man near by. 
 
 " Here s the freight agent/ said the doctor 
 genially. " Hatton, have you any bill against these 
 young people ? " 
 
 "Dr. John, this is too bad," replied the man 
 called Hatton. 
 
 " But the waybill," insisted Ned. " They told 
 me in the city that they always made out duplicates, 
 and that it would be sure to reach here before the 
 freight." 
 
 " Ned," said the doctor solemnly, " that calf of 
 yours is a financier. She breakfasted off from her 
 own freight bill." 
 
 " And all the others that I had in my pocket," 
 confessed the agent. 
 
46 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 The children could not help but laugh. It was 
 so like Beauty. 
 
 " Young man," said a small, bright-eyed elderly 
 gentleman in the garb of a farmer, but with the 
 face of an old-time poet, addressing Ned, " what 
 will you take for that calf ? I can t imagine any 
 better way of getting even with this railroad com 
 pany for its extortions than to own that animal." 
 
 "I m very sorry, sir," Ned contrived to say to 
 the freight agent. 
 
 " Oh, never mind," said that official, glad to 
 escape from being the butt of a practical joke, as 
 any self-respecting man must be. " Don t give 
 yourself any concern. I ve sent down to the city 
 for a new consignment of bills, but the sooner you 
 get that little beast of yours out to pasture the 
 better " 
 
 "For the railroad company?" suggested the 
 bright-eyed old farmer. 
 
 But the doctor had already turned away, and 
 the fleet mare was bearing them swiftly over the 
 smooth road and past the village, which was little 
 more than a trading post for the surrounding 
 country. A turn in the road brought them in 
 sight of a noble canon, whose mountainous gateway 
 seemed to have been cleft asunder by some plu- 
 tonic force. 
 
 Martin asked one question on the road. 
 
 "Dr. John, who was that tall, dark man who 
 spoke to you about the horse, the one you called 
 doctor ?" 
 
THE MAN WITH A HISTORY. 47 
 
 " He ? Oh, he is a sort of itinerant dentist," re 
 plied Dr. John carelessly. " We don t think very 
 highly of him about here. He gambles, and gets 
 drunk, and beats his wife." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Martin, greatly crestfallen. 
 
 All of the land they saw was under cultivation, 
 the most of it being in orchards and vineyards. 
 Although it was the last of September, there was 
 still an abundance of fruit everywhere. There were 
 trees laden with red and yellow apples ; late peach- 
 trees bent beneath their golden burdens ; fig-trees 
 sheltering great purple lobes under their abundant 
 foliage ; the russet of pears, the yellow of quinces, 
 the dull greens and browns of almond and walnut- 
 husks, were everywhere seen. In the vineyards 
 stood large wagons, and stacks of boxes and groups 
 of busy Chinamen told of the vintage at hand. 
 
 At length they turned into a place evidently 
 much less extensive and important than its neigh 
 bors, but which somehow had a different and dis 
 tinctive look : perhaps it was because of the back 
 ground of hills, rising so majestically behind it; 
 possibly it was the fringe of forest trees at one 
 side, or the avenue of grand old sycamores leading 
 straight from the entrance to the door. The en 
 trance itself was something to be studied and mar 
 veled over. It was a high rustic arch, and there 
 were rude letters above. The children spelled them 
 out: " S-O-M-B-R-A." 
 
 " Sombra. What does that mean?" asked 
 Martin. 
 
48 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " It is only a fancy, the name I call my place. 
 It is the Spanish for shadow, and you see I am in 
 the shadow of the hills," answered Dr. John eva 
 sively. 
 
 The Shadow ! Ned felt at once that the name 
 had some deeper meaning. 
 
 They looked with interest on the garden through 
 which they were passing, and which was unlike any 
 they had ever seen before. There were none of 
 the geometrical lines and stiff, conventional ways 
 that possess most California gardens like a blight. 
 This was a genuine old-fashioned garden, under a 
 new-fashioned clime and in a new-fashioned land. 
 Rose hedges raised a defense of thorn and flower 
 about the stretches of green lawn. Sweet-scented 
 white and purple violets fringed their margin. 
 Castilian roses, tea roses, Luxembourg, Jacquemi 
 not, Marechal Niel, Cloth-of-gold, Gold-of-Ophir, 
 Safrano, Bon Silene, La Marque roses, rioted 
 everywhere and filled the air with their fragrance. 
 There were tree-like fuchsias, and great clumps of 
 pampas grass, and a hollow filled with wonderful 
 varieties of flower-de-luce, of melting colors ; and 
 there was a deep pond where goldfish glanced and 
 the pond-lily bloomed. 
 
 The house was a neat frame structure, so lost in 
 vines that it was impossible to follow its outlines, 
 but it had a strangely silent and deserted look. 
 
 Dr. John drew up at a side porch and went into 
 the house, soon reappearing with a covered basket. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CROSSING THE RUBICON. 
 
 " Now," said the doctor gayly, " we must pro 
 ceed to the claim. But how do you suppose I am 
 going to get you across the Rubicon, and why don t 
 you ask after your freight ? How do you know that 
 I have n t confiscated it, and may be even now lead 
 ing you into some dangerous pitfall? " 
 
 He was driving down a shaded road at the rear 
 of the house as he spoke. 
 
 "You look as if you could be trusted," said Hope 
 quaintly. 
 
 Ned laughed boyishly at this rejoinder, but Mar 
 tin saw Dr. John give a quick, strange glance at 
 the little girl. 
 
 They soon came to the bank of a beautiful 
 stream, with tall sycamores and bending willows 
 gracing either margin. Beyond, on the further 
 side, was disclosed a view that filled them with de 
 light, for there, on a gentle slope which seemed to 
 be hollowed out of the mountains, bounded by steep 
 hills, and looking like a mammoth amphitheatre 
 rent in twain, was their own dear home to be. 
 They had a glimpse of some rough dwellings, then 
 they heard a low, contented " Moo," and saw Beautv 
 
50 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 but a few rods below them, grazing happily away, 
 for the first time in her life, on legitimate fodder. 
 The children sprang out of the wagon, and the 
 horse was tied to a tree. 
 
 " Why, Dr. John, here s something that looks 
 like a raft," cried Ned, bending over and looking 
 in the shadows of the willow near by. 
 
 " It is a raft," replied the doctor, " or at least it 
 tries hard to be one. It has a good deal of busi 
 ness before it, and we must have confidence in it, 
 or perhaps it will founder and go down. I think it 
 will carry everything but your horse. He is wel 
 come to quarters in my stable until Ned finds time 
 to take him round by the hill trail." 
 
 As the children ran up to the pretty calf, they 
 noticed that close to the bank of the stream, be 
 neath a clump of alders, stood their modest packing 
 cases. 
 
 The boys at once threw off their coats and went 
 to work, and while Dr. John held the raft against 
 the shore, they lifted some small articles of furni 
 ture upon it, until the doctor declared that its 
 capacity was exhausted. 
 
 " This reminds me of some of the makeshifts in 
 war times," observed the doctor pleasantly, as he 
 seized a stout pole, and made ready to push off 
 from shore. 
 
 " Were you ever a soldier ? " cried Martin 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Yes ; after a fashion. Now jump aboard, Ned, 
 and unload on the other side." 
 
CROSSING THE RUBICON. 51 
 
 Back and forth the little craft moved, until 
 everything inanimate was at length safely across, 
 and there remained, besides the human passengers, 
 one article of very animate freight, which promised 
 some difficulty in handling. 
 
 For Beauty came aboard with a leap and a bound 
 that almost swamped the raft, and sprang hither 
 and thither, from one side to the other, to smell of 
 the water, and even to refresh herself with a small 
 draught of the crystal liquid. Once fairly launched 
 upon her voyage, however, she behaved like an old 
 arid experienced sailor, and made the trip with great 
 dignity, albeit she was plainly consumed with curi 
 osity to know what it all meant. 
 
 Little Hope was the last passenger, and before 
 he handed her on board, the doctor ran up to the 
 wagon and lifted out the covered basket he had put 
 in at the house. Hope was very timid, and she 
 feared the water, but she was careful not to scream 
 out when the raft made a sudden lunge, or to do 
 anything that might make the doctor regard her 
 as a drawback to the boys, as she could not help 
 feeling Mr. Roberts had done. 
 
 "You ll come up with us, Dr. John?" asked 
 Ned, as the doctor handed Hope ashore with grave 
 courtesy. 
 
 " Not now, Ned. You will have to explore the 
 place alone. I have some patients that I must be 
 off to see. Don t attempt to do too much to-day. 
 Your goods are perfectly safe where they are. If 
 you cannot make yourselves comfortable for the 
 
52 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 night Oh, well! I shall be over to see how you 
 are doing." 
 
 Was it any wonder that the children could hardly 
 wait to see him off, before starting out on their 
 investigations ? Hand in hand, they climbed The 
 Brook s steep bank, leading Beauty by her rope. 
 Then they paused, dismayed by the sight before 
 them. 
 
 Their way was barred by a forest of tall mustard 
 stalks, twelve to fifteen feet in height and an inch 
 or so in diameter, dry and scorched by the long 
 summer s heat, and crowned with dry pods that 
 rattled when they were touched, and showered 
 their seeds down on the parched vegetation under 
 foot. 
 
 With great discomfort and considerable difficulty 
 they threaded this miniature forest, starting all sorts 
 of wild things as they went on. Cotton-tail rab 
 bits fled before them. Gophers stuck their heads 
 out of the ground, and viewed them with jewel-like 
 eyes, then noiselessly retreated to their underground 
 preserves. Large gra}^ ground squirrels sat up 
 on their haunches, with bushy tails curled grace 
 fully around them and wee forepaws dropped down 
 ward as if in mimic curtsey, but scampered off at 
 their approach. Flocks of birds arose from their 
 feeding grounds, and lizards rustled through the 
 dead leaves. 
 
 When they had advanced a few rods they were 
 surprised to find a narrow, open trail, where the 
 ground was bare and packed hard, as if by daily 
 
CROSSING THE RUBICON. 53 
 
 tread. From its direction, this trail apparently led 
 from the buildings to the stream. They stopped 
 short, a little excited, and looked apprehensively at 
 each other. 
 
 " What if some one should be living there : some 
 hermit or crazy person," suggested Martin, who was 
 addicted to sensational theories. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " exclaimed Ned. " It is probably 
 some wild thing, a coon or a coyote." 
 
 When they had gone about a hundred yards they 
 came out of the mustard field, and saw before them 
 an old adobe cottage, so clumsily built and so badly 
 crumbled away in places that even Ned s brave 
 spirit sank at the thought of attempting to make 
 it habitable. 
 
 It was a low structure, long and narrow, with the 
 front door under the eaves, and flanked by one and 
 two windows, on either side. Beside it was a tall 
 Monterey cypress, and before it stood a pair of 
 pepper trees, through whose fern-like foliage the 
 air and sunshine played, while at either end of the 
 rough little porch, where some careless hand had 
 doubtless planted them years before, were pink 
 climbing roses of luxurious growth. 
 
 Tho children tied the calf to the cypress, and 
 bent their footsteps towards the house. It seemed 
 strange to them that the front door should be ajar, 
 but they wondered no longer when they saw that 
 the thumb-latch was broken. What dismayed them 
 as they climbed the rickety steps and entered the 
 front room was the confusion of tracks that went 
 
54 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 before them, and seemed to wander aimlessly over 
 the floor. 
 
 The room in which they found themselves was 
 about twenty-four feet long and fourteen feet wide, 
 with a solid floor and walls ceiled with rough 
 boards. There was a rude fireplace at one side, 
 but it was poorly constructed, and the space within 
 was filled with crumbling brick. 
 
 The chimney was built out into the room, and 
 had no pretense at a mantel ; but the ledges of 
 brick, where the fire arch narrowed into the flue, 
 still held pieces of broken clay pipes, some rusty 
 nails, and an old harness ring. 
 
 Behind this room was an open door leading into 
 a little " lean-to " kitchen, which a fastidious house 
 keeper might have called stifling and stuffy, and 
 many other disagreeable names; but our little 
 housewife looked cheerfully into it, and declared 
 that it would be nice and snug and easy to work in, 
 when it should be cleaned out and fitted up. Ned 
 observed that there was a stovepipe hole in the 
 wall at one side, and drawing a rule from his pocket 
 took its height and measurement, with an eye to 
 business. 
 
 One more room waited to be explored. This 
 opened off from the front room, and had a window 
 half wreathed in by the climbing roses. As they 
 took their way towards it, they were startled to hear 
 a movement within, as of some heavy body dragged 
 along the floor. 
 
 Three young hearts leaped. Three youthful 
 
CROSSING THE RUBICON. 55 
 
 faces turned pale. Ned thought of the mysterious 
 trail down to the Brook. Martin recalled ghost 
 stories he had read. Hope gave a little cry of 
 horror : 
 
 " Oh, boys, don t go in. If if it should be 
 a tramp ! " 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 DISCOVERY. 
 
 BUT Ned had a responsibility to sustain, as the 
 sworn head of the family, and he pushed the half 
 open door wide, and boldly looked in. 
 
 " I declare/ he said, " if it is n t a dog ! " 
 
 And so it was : a gaunt Newfoundland, who seemed 
 in the last stages of want and despair. He was 
 crouched on the floor, with his nose resting 011 his 
 paws, and as he saw the young faces at the door he 
 lifted his head and gave one prolonged howl. The 
 dismal sound seemed to hold volumes of misery 
 and pain. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " cried Ned, dropping beside him 
 and patting his head ; a caress to which the dog re 
 sponded with a feeble whine, making an effort to 
 get up, but falling back exhausted. 
 
 " He is hurt. He drags one leg after him," ex 
 claimed Martin. 
 
 " It is an old hurt," asserted Ned, examining the 
 maimed leg. " It has been broken or crushed, and 
 stiffened up all out of shape. I believe the poor 
 fellow is starving. Let us go and bring our lunch, 
 Martin, and get some water from The Brook." 
 
 Leaving Hope with the dog, the boys hastened 
 
DISCOVERY. 57 
 
 back to where they had left the valise, and getting 
 a tin pail from one of the boxes filled it with 
 water. As they observed the doctor s basket, 
 they remembered his parting injunction, and, 
 opening it, found it contained a large bowl of de 
 licious strawberries, a paper bag filled with sugar, 
 a lot of fresh rolls, some cold meat, and a large 
 loaf of cake, provisions enough for a day or 
 more. 
 
 The little girl was still sitting by the dog when 
 they returned. He had stretched himself out upon 
 one side, and laid one great paw on her dress. 
 He looked up beseechingly as the boys came into 
 the room, and they hastened to answer his dumb 
 prayer with a dish of water, which he lapped up 
 eagerly. Then they fed him small pieces of bread, 
 which he caught at greedily and swallowed at a 
 gulp, begging for more and more, until he finally 
 sat up and tried to wag his bushy tail, in humble 
 acknowledgment of their kindness. It sweetened 
 their own meal to feel that they had brought re 
 lief to this unfortunate animal, and this little deed 
 of mercy seemed to bless their first entrance into 
 their new home. 
 
 " Now, Martin, suppose we go down and begin 
 carrying up the things. If we work alive, I 11 
 warrant we 11 get up everything we need before 
 night. Hope, you can stay up here or go down 
 with us, just as you like." 
 
 "Oh, I ll stay here and tidy up a little," de 
 clared the young sister brightly. " I 11 sweep 
 
58 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 down a few of these cobwebs and brush off the 
 floors, and it will do nicely for to-night." 
 
 But Hope turned pale, even as she spoke. 
 
 " Oh, Ned. What shall I do ? " 
 
 " What is it, little sister ? " cried Ned with real 
 concern. 
 
 " It is terrible. I don t know what we can do. 
 I left the broom hanging on its nail in the city." 
 
 This oversight did not seem half as tragical to 
 the boys as it did to the small housewife. 
 
 " Well, that s good ! " " What a situation ! " 
 " Worse than Twelve miles from a lemon, " were 
 their merry comments. 
 
 " Don t you worry, little woman," said Ned. 
 " I ve read of the birch brooms our Puritan 
 grandmothers used. There s that Monterey cy 
 press. It needs trimming badly. Mart, you hunt 
 up a good stick for a handle, and I 11 get the rest 
 ready." 
 
 Bough after bough fell before the sharp-bladed 
 jackknife, and by the time Martin reappeared with 
 an old hoe handle, Ned had fished a ball of string 
 from his pocket and commenced to bind the green 
 boughs, layer after layer, in true scientific fashion, 
 about the end. In little more time than it takes 
 to tell it, Hope was in possession of a genuine 
 broom, very primitive in shape and not quite as 
 efficient as one of the modern kind, but which was 
 still invaluable at that moment. 
 
 The boys worked like Trojans, and while the sun 
 was still high had succeeded in transporting all of 
 
DISCOVERY. 59 
 
 the smaller articles to the house, but when it came 
 to the stove, they were for a moment disheartened. 
 
 " We can never carry it that distance, and over 
 the rough ground," said Ned decidedly. "We 
 shall have to contrive a way." 
 
 Sending Martin to help Hope to place the furni 
 ture in the house, Ned set to work with hatchet 
 and tools, and cutting down a young sapling that 
 stood by the bank of the stream, and knocking up 
 some of the heavier cases in which their goods had 
 been packed, he constructed a stout little sled. 
 Martin was called back; together the boys suc 
 ceeded in placing the stove upon it, and harness 
 ing himself to the rope he had tied to the bar 
 across the front, with Martin pushing behind, Ned 
 started for the house. In a short time they had 
 the stove in place, a bright fire burning, and their 
 evening meal before them. 
 
 When this was eaten, they hastened to make up 
 beds and to prepare for the night s rest. Before 
 retiring, they all stepped out of doors to take a 
 last look at the mountains, even more beautiful by 
 moonlight, which seemed to wrap them in a solemn 
 silence broken only by the music of The Brook 
 below. 
 
 They went to bed that night weary of body, but 
 light of heart. Six willing hands, three brave 
 hearts, an old horse, a little heifer calf, a few of 
 the homeliest articles of household furniture, and 
 the prospective ownership of a hundred and sixty 
 acres of government land, was the sum of their 
 
60 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 possessions. It was not much. To some it may 
 seem a hazy capital to start upon ; but is there an 
 other country on the face of the globe where such 
 possibilities are open to the children of a poor me 
 chanic ? 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A TOUR OF EXPLORATION. 
 
 THEY awoke in the morning to the sound of a 
 loud halloo, which seemed to come from the direc 
 tion of The Brook. How many times it had al 
 ready been repeated they could not guess. 
 
 Sending up an answering shout, the boys hurried 
 on their clothes, and were soon on their way to the 
 stream. 
 
 Dr. John had been unable to fulfill his half-made 
 promise to return and give them his assistance the 
 afternoon before, for he had been called off a long 
 distance into the country, and had not returned 
 until late in the evening. The thought of the chil 
 dren, in that isolated place, thrown entirely on 
 their own resources, had worried him not a little. 
 With the earliest light of dawn he had arisen, and, 
 not waiting for his breakfast, hastened to The 
 Brook and taken passage for the other side. They 
 found him standing on the bank and looking about 
 him in bewilderment. 
 
 " Where are your goods, and where did you 
 sleep last night ? " he demanded of the boys, 
 as soon as they came in sight. He had quite ex 
 pected to find the young people camping out be- 
 
62 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 side the stream and cooking over an open camp- 
 fire. 
 
 " Oh, Ned and I got everything up to the house 
 yesterday," replied Martin indifferently. 
 
 " Well done, boys," said the doctor aloud. His 
 inward comment was still more cordial. " Three 
 hundred yards at least, uphill, through a thicket 
 of weeds and brush. Plucky fellows. They 11 
 do ! " was what he said to himself. 
 
 " Well, how do things look ? I suppose you ve 
 been all over the place." 
 
 " Why, no, sir," said Ned. " There was too 
 much to do yesterday. We saved that for to 
 day." 
 
 Another unspoken compliment, not less cordial 
 than the first, passed through the doctor s mind. 
 
 " Hope is up, and has a fire, She s got ahead 
 of us this morning, Martin," exclaimed Ned, point 
 ing to a breath of blue smoke curling up from the 
 low cottage as they approached it. 
 
 Sure enough, as they neared the house, the little 
 girl, her face shining, and with a neat gingham 
 apron drawn over her woolen dress, came out to 
 meet them and to extend a smiling welcome to the 
 doctor. 
 
 " Hope," said Dr. John, " can t you give me a cup 
 of coffee and a mouthful of bread ? I m hungry." 
 
 " Certainly, Dr. John. I shall be glad to," said 
 Hope, trying hard to disguise the* shyness she felt 
 at exposing their simple ways of life to a stranger. 
 This morning was only a makeshift at best. The 
 
A TOUR OF EXPLORATION. 63 
 
 table linen was at the bottom of a trunk, and she 
 had spread newspapers on the table. But she got 
 out a few pieces of old china, that had been in 
 her mother s family nobody knew how many years, 
 which the doctor noticed and admired, and alto 
 gether they had a merry breakfast of it. 
 
 " Now," said the doctor, pushing his chair back 
 and declaring that he had made a heartier break 
 fast than he had enjoyed for months; " I propose 
 that we start out on a tour of discovery. I confess 
 that I, for one, am very curious to know just what 
 there is on the ranch. Why, what is this ! You 
 have a dog ? " 
 
 For a huge shadow had darkened the door, and 
 there stood the great Newfoundland, a little re 
 freshed by his dinner of the night before, but still 
 gaunt and weak. 
 
 " We found him in the house," explained Martin. 
 
 "In the house?" repeated the doctor, looking 
 puzzled. "Was there any sign of anything else 
 of any human being about ? " 
 
 " No, sir," replied Ned. " It looks to me as if 
 the poor fellow had been here a long time. He is 
 very lame ; he has a bad leg. There was a path 
 worn down to the water that I think he must have 
 made. The weeds came together above. We 
 could n t use it till we cut them away." 
 
 " The man who used to live here had a dog like 
 this, a large Newfoundland puppy," said the doc 
 tor reflectively. " I wonder if he could have left 
 him here, and the dog survived all these years. 
 
64 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 He was a brutal fellow, the man. Come here, 
 old fellow, and let me see your leg." 
 
 The dog labored across the floor and sat down at 
 Dr. John s feet. The doctor examined the injured 
 member. 
 
 " That was done by a blow or a kick," he said. 
 
 "Oh, how cruel!" cried Hope. "And he left 
 the dog here to suffer and starve. What could he 
 have lived on ? " 
 
 " I don t know. Fish from the stream, perhaps. 
 I have heard of animals changing their nature in 
 such cases, and turning graminivorous. He cer 
 tainly would have proved up his title to the ranch 
 if a dog could do it. He is in a sorry condition 
 for hunting. I might help the leg even now, poor 
 fellow, but it will hurt. Shall I do it ? " 
 
 There was something almost human in the dog s 
 low whine, the appeal of his honest eyes. 
 
 " Very well, sir. Take firm hold up here, Ned. 
 Don t let the dog stir if you can help it." 
 
 Dr. John took hold of the lower portion of the 
 injured leg, and pulled with great force upon it. 
 The stiffened cords and muscles gave way, there 
 was a dull crunch of bones, and the joint settled 
 back into place. 
 
 " Now for splints and bandages," said the doctor. 
 " Brave old fellow ! He is a regular * Old Dog Tray, 
 and we must call him so. It will never be a pretty 
 leg again, but with good care he can walk more 
 comfortably after this. Now I have an hour more 
 to spare, and we must spend it looking around." 
 
A TOUR OF EXPLORATION. 65 
 
 The children started up eagerly, and together 
 they went out of the front door, and standing for a 
 moment at the edge of the natural terrace whereon 
 the house stood, looked down upon The Brook and 
 off across the country. 
 
 Hope gave an exclamation of delight. The hills 
 approached so closely to them, on either side, that 
 they seemed to be looking through a mountainous 
 gateway. The rich browns of the bare rocks and 
 faded yellows of the dried grasses struck sharply 
 against the moist greens of the low-lying valley, 
 with its extensive orchards and vineyards. The 
 Brook, arched with living green in the foreground, 
 wound like a silver ribbon through the valley, until 
 it became merged in a broader sheet of silver in 
 the distance, which they knew to be the beautiful 
 Bay of San Francisco, the noblest harbor in the 
 world. The purple hills of the peninsula bounded 
 the horizon. 
 
 " Look off there to the left, boys," said the doc 
 tor. 
 
 They looked in the direction which he indicated, 
 and saw some rows of stunted trees struggling 
 above the tall weeds. 
 
 " An orchard ! " cried both boys in a breath. 
 
 It was an orchard, but such a starved and 
 blighted one that it seemed a mere caricature of 
 the thriving growths in the valley below. They 
 threaded their way to it with difficulty. There 
 were twenty rows of trees, originally numbering 
 about twenty trees to the row, but many had died 
 
66 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 in infancy and decayed to the ground, while others 
 had fallen a prey to burrowing rodents or insect 
 pests, and still stood upright, their leafless branches 
 overgrown with lichens. 
 
 " What puzzles ine," said Dr. John, looking about 
 him, " is the fact that Hank Jones, the lazy fellow 
 who took up this claim, should have had sufficient 
 enterprise to plant out even this mongrel collection 
 of trees." 
 
 " I have it ! " he exclaimed, a moment later. 
 " The man was a great glutton ; lazy people invari 
 ably are. Whenever he ate a peach or plum or any 
 other kind of fruit, and he was convenient to the 
 spot, he planted the pit or seed. This orchard rep 
 resents his gourmandizing at different periods dur 
 ing the year he lived up here. He ate a couple 
 of dozen apricots at a sitting one day, and this 
 row of apricot trees half are living and half of 
 them are dead was the result. Then he ate a 
 handful of cherries, and planted the pits over 
 there. At some time or other, he got hold of a 
 mixed lot of plums and peaches, and that gives 
 us this mixed row. Only one thing disputes 
 my theory: how he ever managed to deny him 
 self that walnut and those almonds, I cannot 
 understand." 
 
 They all laughed gleefully, and a magical echo 
 answered from the hills. 
 
 " What makes the ground so hard? " asked Ned, 
 striking his heel against the earth, which gave back 
 a ringing, flinty sound. 
 
A TOUR OF EXPLORATION. 67 
 
 " The same cause that makes the trees so stunted 
 and the fruit so worthless, lack of cultivation," 
 was the reply. " The ground has been allowed to 
 bake after the rains, and the weeds have sapped 
 most of the moisture and the vitality from it. If 
 it had been properly cultivated the weeds would 
 have been kept down, and the crumbly top soil 
 would have condensed moisture from the atmos 
 phere, instead of perpetually giving to it. If these 
 trees were mine, boys, I am not sure whether I 
 should try to make them of some account, or root 
 them up and plant new in their place." 
 
 They were walking toward the house again, and 
 for the first time they noticed that Hope was labor 
 ing under happy excitement. 
 
 "Oh, boys ! And Dr. John ! Now you must 
 come and see what I have found," she cried. 
 
 She had run on ahead, and was leading the way 
 toward the hills behind the house. When she had 
 gone a little distance she stopped, and beckoned 
 them to come. 
 
 There was a spring of crystal pure water, a great, 
 bowl-shaped hollow in the rocks, the overflow from 
 which formed a tiny brooklet, that gurgled over the 
 ground for a short distance and then, not having 
 sufficient force or volume to find its way to The 
 Brook, soon disappeared from sight. Beside it a 
 wild rose was pink with bloom. But it was not 
 this to which the young girl was pointing, with eyes 
 that sparkled, and her mouth wreathed in a happy 
 smile. Directly in the path of the spring s over- 
 
68 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 flow there stood a large orange-tree. Untouched 
 by the beauty-destroying hand of the horticulturist, 
 it had attained a noble growth, and from crown to 
 root its dense foliage formed a rich setting for the 
 wealth of yellow-green and golden fruit that hung 
 upon it. It was evidently a seedling which had 
 come into bearing a couple of years before, for the 
 largest of its fruit, when subjected to examination, 
 showed a sponge-like rind an inch thick, with a 
 partially dried pulp in the centre, while the second- 
 sized oranges were also distinguished by heavy 
 rinds, but were still sweet and juicy. 
 
 As they came down from the spring, Ned, who 
 had been very silent during the latter part of their 
 walk, looked troubled and dejected. They stopped 
 a moment to look at an old building in the rear of 
 the house. It was built of hewn logs, mortised to 
 gether at the corners, and provided with a stout 
 roof of similar construction, which had been plas 
 tered with clay. It had 110 window or opening of 
 any kind, save a small, clumsy door, that fastened 
 with a heavy hasp and staple. A huge padlock 
 hung from the latter. 
 
 " What an odd place ! " exclaimed Martin. 
 
 "A regular old-fashioned smokehouse, such as 
 you will find everywhere throughout the South," 
 commented the doctor. 
 
 The children looked at it curiously for a moment, 
 and then passed it by, little foreseeing the important 
 part it was to play in an exciting episode of the 
 years to come. 
 
A TOUE OF EXPLORATION. 69 
 
 As they neared the house, Ned laid his hand on 
 the doctor s arm. 
 
 " Dr. John, may I speak to you for one minute 
 alone ? " he asked. 
 
 u Certainly, Ned," replied the doctor, wondering 
 what could have brought the look of trouble and 
 perplexity to the young fellow s face. 
 
 They moved off in the direction of the orchard, 
 where Ned took his stand with folded arms, and 
 remained for a moment silent with embarrassment. 
 
 44 Out with it ! " commanded Dr. John. 
 
 " Why, you see, it came over me down here in 
 the orchard. You talked about pruning, and thin 
 ning, and cultivating. 1 have n t the slightest idea 
 what any of them mean. Dr. John, I ve come out 
 here to make a living as a farmer, and I don t know 
 the first thing about farming." 
 
 Ned was a little exasperated to see the doctor s 
 eyes twinkle, his mouth twitch, and finally to behold 
 him convulsed with laughter. 
 
 " It may seem very funny to you, Dr. John," said 
 the boy sadly, " but it s no laughing matter to me, 
 if I m going to make a failure of it." 
 
 "It s not that, Ned, not that," laughed the 
 doctor. "But to think that a boy of your age 
 should make the discovery so soon. There are 
 dozens of men in the valley who would give thou 
 sands of dollars to have found that very thing out 
 in time. The trouble is that they always start in 
 thinking that they do know, you see. Don t worry, 
 my boy. You re safe." 
 
70 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " But I ve got to learn somehow or other," in 
 sisted Ned. " I don t even know what tools and 
 implements to buy, or what to plant." 
 
 " The easiest thing in the world to find out. Go 
 to some one who has had experience and has made 
 a practical success. Go to Mr. Abbott, our nursery 
 man, the one who wanted to negotiate for your calf. 
 Tell him just how much money you ve got, and ask 
 his advice about expending it." 
 
 Ned s heart was very much lightened as they re 
 turned to the house, where Martin seized the oppor 
 tunity for himself and accosted Dr. John. 
 
 " Have n t you any wife or children ? " 
 
 Like most boys of his age, he always had a ques 
 tion on the tip of his tongue. 
 
 Neither of the three ever forgot the reply. 
 
 A change swept over the doctor s face, making 
 it look gray arid old, all in an instant. 
 
 "I had," he said hoarsely. "But it s like your 
 land here. It s an abandoned claim. I never 
 proved up. " 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A BUSY DAY. 
 
 A WEEK later Ned went down to Oakland and 
 entered the land in due form. When he came back 
 he got his horse from Dr. John s stable, and re 
 turned home by the hill road, stopping at the 
 Abbott nursery on the way. 
 
 The hours he spent with the old man were a lib 
 eral education in fruit farming. Mr. Abbott helped 
 him to lay out his purchasing fund to the best ad 
 vantage, aiding him to economize by turning over 
 to him some old implements cast aside on his own 
 place to make room for newer patents, but which 
 were still in good condition. He also solved one of 
 their perplexities by offering them the use of a fal 
 low cow, in return for her pasturage, until their 
 own animal should be old enough to supply them 
 with milk. He advised him to put the upper por 
 tion of his level land into early peas, in order to 
 get returns on a winter s crop. 
 
 "How many rows of peas, two hundred feet 
 long, do you think you and your brother could 
 plant, and keep well hoed, between now and next 
 February ? " asked the old gentleman. 
 
 " About three hundred," returned Ned, after a 
 little reflection. 
 
72 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Then try a hundred and fifty. That will be 
 one half. With some boys I should have advised 
 only one third or one fourth, but I think you have 
 a fair degree of prudence, and would not be likely 
 to estimate your strength or capability at more than 
 double their worth." 
 
 Despite Ned s shy protestations, Mr. Abbott took 
 him at noon to a cozy little dining-room, where a 
 bountiful meal was spread, and where he made the 
 acquaintance of a beautiful old lady, as bright and 
 quaint in her way as Mr. Abbott was in his. At 
 the table all business topics were dropped, and 
 while host and hostess showed a gentle solicitude 
 for the comfort of their young guest, the conversa 
 tion ran on larger themes, and Ned found himself 
 listening to an intelligent, broad-minded discussion 
 of the great world s affairs, which lifted him into a 
 new plane of thought and feeling. Inexperienced 
 as he was in many ways, intuition taught him that 
 the engravings on the wall, the books distributed 
 about, were products of the world s master minds, 
 and made a fit setting for these two gentle and 
 cultured old people, the types of many more, dis 
 tributed throughout town and country, who are in 
 sensibly moulding the destiny of California. 
 
 The road Ned took on his way over the hills 
 followed the edge of the valley, along the line of 
 the foothills, which were everywhere fringed with 
 beautiful farms, the vineyards and grain fields in 
 some instances extending far up the hill slopes. 
 
 At length his course turned directly toward the 
 
A BUSY DAY. 73 
 
 Range, following the bank of a deep ravine, along 
 whose bed a tiny mountain stream glanced and 
 sparkled. Steep as the road was in places, it was 
 as finely macadamized as the drives in Golden Gate 
 Park. It soon passed the first line of hills, but 
 Ned found that what had from the valley looked 
 like a single row of peaks was in reality but one of 
 an extensive system. 
 
 The road dipped into slight depressions, only to 
 rise again and again to bleaker heights. In many 
 of these sheltered mountain benches little farm 
 houses were standing, and now and then a goodly 
 patch of vineyard or a bit of thriving orchard bore 
 witness to the enterprise of the settlers, and stood 
 as a smiling prediction of the future ; but oftener 
 the heights were barren and desolate, and the 
 ground was honeycombed by ground squirrels, 
 thousands of which stood like mimic sentinels be 
 fore the entrances to their underground abodes. 
 Once a coyote came out upon a bleak and wind 
 swept ledge, and grimly surveyed the boy. At 
 length the summit of the range was reached, and 
 the road began to descend, by easy gradations, to 
 the level of the valley beyond. 
 
 It was a long and toilsome journey, but it afforded 
 the boy what he most needed : time to think. 
 
 The events of the past few weeks had crowded so 
 closely upon each other that he had been forced to 
 act promptly, and frequently with little delibera 
 tion. For the first time in his life, he began to 
 forecast the future, and prepared himself to face 
 
74 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 the inevitable disappointments that must come in 
 the new life. He foresaw that he would often be 
 tired and discouraged, and that his burden of re 
 sponsibility would press heavily upon him. He 
 knew that he should miss the stimulus of school 
 life, the sharp competition, the pleasures of com 
 panionship with other boys of his age; he knew 
 that Martin, two years younger than he, younger 
 still by force of natural temperament, would often 
 weary and irritate him. Martin did not like work. 
 He was heedless, impracticable, visionary. Yet 
 this was the sort of life to school him into regular 
 and industrious habits, if only Martin could be 
 schooled. 
 
 And Hope. Gentle little Hope ! It would be 
 a lonely life for her, and a wearing one. What if 
 she should break down and fade out of life, as their 
 mother had done ? How vigilantly they must watch 
 to spare her undue labor ; what zealous guard must 
 he keep over his own anxieties, to prevent her life 
 from being overcast by them ! 
 
 Following the directions of some people he met, 
 he turned into an old road which soon dwindled 
 into a mere bridle path. After following this for a 
 mile or more, the boy suddenly stopped short, and 
 gave an exclamation of surprise. 
 
 A turn in the path brought into sight a spectacle 
 so at variance with all the landscape that for a mo 
 ment he was tempted to rub his eyes, and question 
 whether he were not dreaming. 
 
 All of the ranches he had hitherto seen bore 
 
A BUSY DAY. 75 
 
 some evidences of thrift and comfort. Even the 
 swarthy little Portuguese children, short of skirt 
 and bare of limb, were tidily clad and bore them 
 selves with an air of self-respecting reserve, as if 
 the tiniest among them had some part in the great 
 plan of life, if only to oil the wheels that other 
 people made go round. 
 
 Before him was a dilapidated shanty, looking 
 more as if it belonged to the dingiest portion of Tar 
 Flat in San Francisco than to pure, vitalizing coun 
 try air. Broken window-panes were stuffed with 
 gunny -sacks and castaway clothing. Unpainted 
 and decaying, the battens that originally covered 
 the seams between the boards had been splintered 
 off in places, revealing wide cracks, through which 
 an inquisitive eye might have searched the whole 
 interior. There was no attempt at a garden, front 
 or rear, save one small patch, a few rods from the 
 house, where some sickly-looking cabbage plants 
 strained upwards for a glimpse of light, inclosed 
 by a miniature rail fence. A great boy sat astride 
 the upper rail, gun in hand, his eyes intently fixed 
 upon some object invisible to Ned, while a smaller 
 boy crouched a little distance away. 
 
 In the doorway of the shanty there sat a slat 
 ternly woman, a soiled gingham sunbonnet pushed 
 back from her forehead, and a clay pipe between 
 her lips. Around her sprawled several more chil 
 dren of the same type, their hair unkempt, their 
 faces obscured with dirt. 
 
 " Good-afternoon, ma am," said Ned politely. 
 
76 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Af t noon," responded the woman indifferently, 
 without removing the pipe from her mouth, while 
 her hand, from force of habit, sought the front of 
 her dress waist and endeavored to supply the lack 
 of buttons. 
 
 "Can you tell me the way to the McCrary 
 ranch?" asked Ned. 
 
 The woman took the pipe from her mouth, and 
 eyed him with a look of cunning suspicion. 
 
 "Be yees afther the road tax?" she asked 
 sharply. 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed," answered Ned, smiling. 
 
 "Ner the poll tax?" 
 
 " No, ma am." 
 
 " An yees ain t sint by the assissor ? " 
 
 " Why, no, ma am. I m quite a stranger here. 
 We have taken up the claim down opposite Dr. 
 John s." 
 
 The woman s face relaxed as if by magic. A 
 look of genuine kindliness came into her homely 
 face. 
 
 " Wan of thim pore boys ! Come in an set yer- 
 silf down, an have a glass of milk. Yees must be 
 clane tired out, wid ridin so far." 
 
 " Oh, no, I thank you," returned Ned, to whom 
 the prospect of the glass of milk did not appear 
 half as attractive as it might have, if her hands and 
 surroundings had been cleaner, and there had been 
 no pipe. " To tell the truth, I m in quite a hurry 
 to reach home before sundown. I wanted to see 
 about some chickens. Mr. Abbott said he thought 
 you might have some laying hens to sell." 
 
A BUSY DAY. 77 
 
 " Flinty av thim. The thrubble ud be the catch- 
 in* av thim. They re all over the ranch. Lay 
 off in the chap ral iverywhere. Jist natrally run 
 wild ! " 
 
 "Can I see Mike?" asked Ned, somewhat 
 abashed at this unpromising outlook. 
 
 " S over there," grunted the woman, who had 
 settled back to her pipe and was lazily puffing 
 away. 
 
 She pointed in the direction of the cabbage patch. 
 Ned tied his horse to a maimed oak-tree near the 
 door, a considerable portion of which had been 
 hacked away for the purpose of firewood, and 
 walked quietly toward the two boys. As he was 
 almost upon them the younger put up his hand in 
 warning, but it was too late. 
 
 " Now you ve done it ! " he cried, addressing 
 Ned. 
 
 " Done what ? " demanded Ned, in astonishment. 
 
 " Oh, nothing," replied the elder boy, lifting his 
 gun to his shoulder with a disappointed air, then 
 rising and stretching out his long limbs, lifting a 
 torn straw hat from his head and thereby revealing 
 a good-natured and somewhat comely face, with 
 curling, reddish hair, and frank blue eyes. 
 
 " It s nothing," he explained, in amiable resigna 
 tion, albeit there was a touch of irony in his tone, 
 " only I d been after that gopher all day yisterday 
 an since sun-up this morning, an I jist had 
 him ! Another second, sir, an I d a popped him 
 over ! " 
 
78 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " What had he done ? " asked Ned. 
 
 " Done ? He was a gopher. You bet he 11 do 
 enough. He s got his eye on those cabbages." 
 
 Ned thought to himself that if some one else 
 would have an eye to the cabbages, the cabbages 
 would be none the worse for it. The poor plants 
 were wretched starvelings, choked out by tall weeds 
 that pressed upon them from every side. He could 
 not resist reaching over the rude fence and freeing 
 one of the poor plants from the enemies that encom 
 passed it. Mike McCrary watched the action in 
 dumb surprise. 
 
 " I wanted to see you about some chickens," ex 
 plained Ned pleasantly ; " though now that I have 
 spoiled your sport, I don t know that you will want 
 to accommodate me. I d like to get a dozen laying 
 hens." 
 
 " What 11 you give ? " asked Mike McCrary* 
 
 " Would five dollars be enough? " 
 
 Mike scowled reflectively. 
 
 " It s a sight of trouble to chase em through the 
 chap ral, or hunt em up in the trees at night. But 
 I m out o caps an powder. Blissed if I don t do 
 it ! When you want ern ? Come after em yer- 
 silf?" 
 
 " If you say so," returned Ned seriously. " We re 
 your new neighbors. We ve taken up the claim 
 down by The Brook." 
 
 " No ! One of thim lunatics ? Let me have a 
 good squint at yer," ejaculated Mike, with a look 
 of mingled contempt and humor. 
 
A BUSY DAY. 79 
 
 Ignorant of his meaning, Ned returned his gaze 
 with serious dignity. 
 
 "What possessed yer, anyhow?" pursued Mike. 
 " They say yer goin to farm it. Don t yer know 
 farmin means work ? " 
 
 He pronounced the last word in a tone expres 
 sive of such horror and aversion that Ned laughed 
 outright. 
 
 " Work ? " he said. " Why, that s just what we 
 came up here for. The more the better. I like 
 work." 
 
 Mike McCrary had doubtless heard the philoso 
 phy of work preached more than once in his life, 
 but this was the first time he had heard it pro 
 claimed with honest sincerity by one of his own 
 age, who turned theory into practice. 
 
 " Jiminy ! " was all he said. 
 
 He accompanied Ned to the bluff, to point out 
 to him the steep and narrow trail that would take 
 him home. 
 
 u I 11 bring down the chickens myself," he said 
 awkwardly, as they parted. " I d like to have a 
 good look at you fellers that like work ! " 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 A HOME AND THREE PATRIOTS. 
 
 As he came in sight of the low cottage, nestling 
 in the hollow of the hills, Ned felt a sensation he 
 had never known before. For the first time he 
 understood a sentence he had once heard fall from 
 the lips of an orator of national repute. 
 
 " The home makes the patriot. No man ever 
 shouldered a musket in defense of a hoarding- 
 housed 
 
 " Or a tenement house either," thought the boy. 
 The shabby little dwelling toward which he was 
 now going was no longer mean or shabby in his 
 eyes. It was exalted by the glory of possession. 
 He did not see the battered walls, the cracked win 
 dows, the clumsy doors. No palace, to which other 
 people held the title-deeds, could be half so beauti 
 ful to him. 
 
 Hope ran out to meet him when she saw him 
 coming. She led him to the front door, and 
 laughed aloud in delight at his exclamation of 
 pleasure and surprise. The large room had been 
 thoroughly cleaned, and the redwood boards with 
 which it was ceiled lent a rich and effective back 
 ground for the knickknacks, bunches of dried 
 
A HOME AND THREE PATRIOTS. 81 
 
 grasses, and richly tinted leaves that were arranged 
 upon the walls. Halfway up the chimney breast, 
 Martin had suspended some hanging shelves of 
 redwood that they had brought with them, and 
 upon these stood a glass filled with pink roses, 
 whose perfume filled the room. The only carpet 
 they had brought with them, a crimson ingrain, was 
 tacked in the centre of the room. Hope had fes 
 tooned some dotted Swiss muslin above the win 
 dows, catching it up with cypress boughs, while the 
 Madras curtains that had hung at her own window 
 were strung across one corner of the room, to shut 
 the boys bed off from sight. A little stand covered 
 with books, the crimson-covered lounge, and a 
 couple of chairs completed the furniture of the 
 room ; but, bare as it was, it had an air of comfort 
 and of cheer, often lacking in elegantly furnished 
 parlors. 
 
 In Hope s own little room adjoining, after much 
 thoughtful consideration, they had put the pretty 
 set of bedroom furniture that had been their pa 
 rents , and with which they could not bear to part. 
 Hope s own little bed was dislocated and stood up 
 in one corner of the room. 
 
 The stuffy, untidy kitchen was stuffy and untidy 
 no longer. The walks had been brushed down, the 
 floor scrubbed, and all the unpleasant reminders of 
 former occupancy removed. Nails had been driven 
 along the walls, and various shining utensils hung 
 upon them, while at one side were a couple of neat 
 shelves, the product of Martin s genius. It was a 
 
82 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 little crowded, it is true, and there was no room for 
 the kitchen safe they had brought, which had been 
 placed outside the door. 
 
 Ned therefore resolved to contrive a pantry for 
 the little housewife s comfort. With Dr. John s 
 cooperation, he procured the necessary lumber, and 
 built a rough but airy and water-tight addition to 
 the kitchen, placing it in the angle between the 
 shed and the main portion of the house, where it 
 was only necessary to build two walls, a floor, and 
 a roof, to make the small room complete. When 
 he had finished the pantry he moved in the meal- 
 chest, and arranged all the utensils and materials 
 commonly used in cooking, so that the young cook 
 could prepare a dish for the oven without taking 
 unnecessary steps. 
 
 Hope watched these arrangements with admiring 
 surprise. 
 
 " Women and girls can do things pretty well, 
 but I believe it takes men and boys to plan for 
 them," she said. 
 
 While Ned was at work on the pantry, Martin 
 completed a rough chicken - house which they had 
 both framed together. These tasks completed, the 
 serious work of the season commenced. 
 
 " Upon my word, boys, this begins to look home 
 like," said Dr. John, coming up by The Brook path 
 a few weeks later. 
 
 The tall growth of weeds extending from the 
 house to the water had been cleared away, leaving 
 only a short, dry stubble, that would readily yield 
 
A HOME AND THREE PATRIOTS. 83 
 
 to the plough when the ground should be soaked 
 by rain. The broken panes of glass had been re 
 placed, and the roses that en wreathed the cottage 
 had been neatly trimmed, while some slips that 
 Hope brought from the city were thriving in the 
 true " leaf mould," so dear to the professional 
 florist. 
 
 " The place begins to look as if it belonged to 
 somebody," asserted the doctor. " You ought to 
 christen it." 
 
 "I think it should be Home Ranch," said a 
 gentle voice, and Hope stood beside them. 
 
 So Home Ranch it became from that day, and if 
 anything could have made the little nook dearer to 
 its occupants, it would have been because it bore 
 this suggestive name. 
 
 "We shall have rain soon," said Dr. John. 
 " Better get in all your supplies, boys, and make 
 ready for a siege." 
 
 " Oh, this is only a fog," said Martin. 
 
 " When a fog broods over the earth day after 
 day, at this time of year, it generally means busi 
 ness," said the doctor pleasantly, for it was late in 
 October. " Look off across the valley, and see 
 how distinct and near at hand appear the church 
 spires of that little village six miles away. This 
 clarified atmosphere means rain." 
 
 The doctor was right, and by nightfall a light 
 rain was falling. Softly and steadily it fell, 
 " Heaven-sent dew," as Ned called it ; and the 
 parched earth absorbed it greedily, while all vege- 
 
84 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 tation, including, alas ! even the weeds, seemed to 
 revive beneath it. 
 
 On the morning of the third day they awoke to 
 find the land bathed in sunshine. Ned gave his 
 sleeping brother a vigorous shake. 
 
 " Get up, Martin. We must plough to-day." 
 
 Do you know what is meant by virgin soil ? It 
 means soil that has been garnering up its wealth 
 from time immemorial ; soil that has never been 
 robbed or impoverished by the hand of man. 
 Since the world began, every blade that has burst 
 its sheath, every leaf and flower that have un 
 folded, has returned again to Mother Earth, to 
 gladden and enrich her. Scoop up a handful of 
 it : no hard crusts or heavy clods here ; it crum 
 bles at the touch. Press it with your foot : it 
 yields like a sponge, but never packs. Smell of 
 it: it has an invigorating perfume. There is a 
 suggestion of life and of life-giving power in its 
 very color, that warm, purplish tinge, fading to 
 amethyst in the sunlight. 
 
 In such soil the boys had their first experience 
 in driving the plough, and for a time the delight 
 intoxicated them ; but it was not long before their 
 untried muscles called for a rest. Ned was too 
 plucky to abandon work altogether, and he in 
 sisted upon harrowing the patch they had ploughed, 
 and then running their lines and dropping the peas 
 in the small furrows, covering them with the hoe 
 as fast as a line was finished. 
 
 It is very simple and easy in the telling ; but it 
 
A HOME AND THREE PATRIOTS. 85 
 
 took both of the boys until sundown to plough and 
 harrow less than a quarter of an acre of ground, 
 and then to plant it in peas. They were so tired 
 and stiff when they were through that it was hard 
 to attend to their accustomed chores before going 
 to bed ; but sleep, the true elixir of life, restored 
 them, and they awoke the next morning with re 
 newed strength. 
 
 " I m so tired and sore, I d like to lie down and 
 not get up again for a month," groaned Martin, a 
 couple of weeks later, when the peas were all in. 
 
 Weary as they were, they dared not rest. They 
 had to lay in a winter s store of firewood, and the 
 ground in the old orchard needed to be ploughed. 
 Meanwhile, the peas came up and grew apace ; but 
 the weeds, too, answered the muster call, and it 
 became necessary to wage war upon them. 
 
 The young people found, to their delight, that 
 the early rains only served to swell the volume and 
 increase the current of The Brook for a few days, 
 after which the stream subsided, and was easily 
 crossed with the raft. The boys came and went 
 freely between Home Ranch and the village, but 
 little Hope never dared trust herself to the raft a 
 second time. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY. 
 
 " MARTIN, don t you want to take a ride with 
 me to-morrow ? " asked Dr. John one day early in 
 December. 
 
 " I 11 be very glad to, sir," and the boy s eyes 
 sparkled with anticipation. 
 
 " Very well," said Dr. John, " be on hand early 
 in the morning, say seven o clock, and prepare to 
 be away the whole forenoon." 
 
 " Is it somebody very sick, or far away ? " 
 
 "Eh? Oh, yes. A good ways off," replied the 
 doctor, who seemed to be unaccountedly embar 
 rassed by the simple question. 
 
 Martin had read several stories of detective ex 
 perience, and, like many boys of his age, had con 
 ceived the idea that he would have great talent for 
 the profession. He had determined to cultivate a 
 habit of perpetual watchfulness in every-day life, 
 and to permit no suspicious detail to escape him. 
 
 He did not wish to believe evil of a man who 
 had proved himself in so many ways their faithful 
 and unselfish friend, yet he had never been able to 
 wholly dismiss from his mind the schoolmaster s 
 dark and significant allusion. Dr. John s singular 
 
A MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY. 87 
 
 hesitation and confusion impressed the boy, and he 
 looked forward to the morrow with a curiosity not 
 unmixed with dread. 
 
 Martin was on hand bright and early the next 
 morning, as he had promised. The doctor drove 
 directly to the station, and then turned northward 
 on a road that ran parallel with the railroad track 
 over which they had come from the city. Martin 
 thought the doctor must be going to the next vil 
 lage, but when the next village and the next were 
 passed, he began to see that Dr. John was aiming 
 for some distant town. 
 
 He thought he understood when they approached 
 the outskirts of Oakland. So the doctor s patient 
 lived there, and must be some rich person to afford 
 to call a physician from such a distance. But why 
 should Dr. John make such a mystery about it? 
 Why should he be so strangely morose, scarcely 
 heeding the boy s innocent questions, called forth 
 by sights along their route, until the young fellow 
 subsided into a hurt silence ? Why should he drive 
 directly into the heart of the city, and draw up on 
 a business street, a few doors away from one of the 
 large banks ? 
 
 " Now, Martin," he said, producing a small bag 
 of specie, " I want you to do a little business for 
 me. You see that bank over there ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Take this money and say that Richard Roe, or 
 George Smith, or anybody you please, so that it is 
 not my name, deposits it. Ask for a draft made 
 
88 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 out in the name of E. F. Sherwood, of Philadelphia. 
 Be very careful about that last name. Better 
 write it down. Have you a bit of paper and a pen 
 cil ? Here, take mine." 
 
 Martin wrote the name with care, and awaited 
 further instructions. 
 
 " Be sure not to have anything to say to any one, 
 aside from what I have told you. If they ask you 
 anything more, tell them you don t know. Get out 
 again as soon as you can, and bring the draft to 
 me." 
 
 With a sinking heart Martin took the bag in nis 
 hands. At last he understood the meaning of the 
 mysterious journey. The doctor was launched in 
 a career of crime, and he, Martin, was to be his 
 accomplice. For one moment the boy had a wild 
 thought of refusing to be involved in any such vil 
 lainous scheme, but he looked in the doctor s eye, 
 and felt himself under its power. 
 
 The bag was heavier than it looked. It con 
 tained considerably more money than he had ever 
 before handled ; yet he could feel no pride in touch 
 ing it, and he went up the steps of the building 
 with his head hanging and shame in his heart. 
 
 Martin had no experience of banking laws, and 
 was quite in the dark as to the precise relation of 
 the money to the paper he was to get ; but he knew 
 enough of life to be fully aware that when a man 
 acts in secret, it is because he has something dis 
 graceful to conceal. 
 
 He looked so downcast and guilty when he pre- 
 
A MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY. 89 
 
 sented himself at the desk of the receiving teller 
 that the official regarded him with rank suspicion, 
 and examined the coins minutely, to assure himself 
 they were not counterfeit. Martin would not have 
 been surprised at any moment to find himself taken 
 into legal custody, and marched off to the city 
 prison. 
 
 He was greatly relieved when he got safely back 
 to Dr. John, and handed him the paper. Dr. John, 
 too, was manifestly lighter of heart, and spoke up 
 quite like his usual self : 
 
 " Now I want to drive around to the post-office, 
 and stop there a moment, and then we will go 
 home." 
 
 " But your patient, doctor, the sick person you 
 came all this way to see ! " 
 
 " Oh, I think the sick person will get along very 
 well to-day," answered the doctor shamelessly. 
 
 At the post-office Martin observed that the doc 
 tor took from his pocket an envelope, bearing an 
 address printed with a typewriter, inclosed the 
 draft, and mailed it in the usual way. 
 
 On the way home Martin s head was in a whirl. 
 Puzzle as he might, he could not arrive at any 
 theory that would account for the peculiar facts. 
 Yet there was no question as to the doctor s guilt. 
 The doctor himself tacitly admitted it when they 
 reached their starting-point, and drove into the 
 shadows of his home. 
 
 " Martin," he said, " you are a boy who can 
 keep a secret, are you not ? " 
 
90 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Yes, sir," returned Martin staunchly. 
 
 " I thought so. I shall trust you never to say 
 anything about our ride this morning, or the errand 
 you did for me." 
 
 " I promise, honor bright," said poor Martin, but 
 it was with a heavy heart. 
 
CHAPTEK XIII. 
 
 WINTER ON A CALIFORNIA RANCH. 
 
 THANKSGIVING and Christmas passed with little 
 observance at Home Ranch. The children s hearts 
 were yet too sore with recent sorrow for them to 
 take thought of any merry-making. On Christmas 
 Day Ned went down to the city alone to see their 
 father, bearing such simple remembrances as they 
 were able to send ; but the lad met with a rebuff 
 from one of the physicians at the hospital, who fan 
 cied that he saw in the father s natural emotion at 
 seeing one of the children from whom he had been 
 so long separated, the tokens of an excitement that 
 might be injurious to his patient. 
 
 The day after New Year s, Hope sat on a low 
 block outside of the kitchen door, patiently turning 
 a crank attached to a large wooden contrivance, 
 shaped very much like an ancient Pompeiian jug. 
 She was listening intently to the sound of some 
 thing splashing about inside. 
 
 Hope s churning was a profound and mysterious 
 rite, and the boys were not allowed to approach or 
 to speak to her during the process, for she had a 
 theory that if she was interrupted for a moment 
 the butter would " go back," and the cream relapse 
 into its original liquid State. 
 
92 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 The boys milking, as well as Hope s butter-mak 
 ing, had been studied up from a little agricultural 
 manual that Ned had picked up at a second-hand 
 bookstand, before they left the city. 
 
 This treatise, written by an English gentleman- 
 farmer and printed some fifty years before, dealt 
 with the subject in a tone of dignified condescen 
 sion, and abounded in high-sounding phrases and 
 digressions from the text, which would delight our 
 agricultural editors of to-day. The chapter devoted 
 to the milch cow began as follows : 
 
 " The genus bos, commonly called neat, and sometimes 
 black cattle, stands at the head of our domestic animals 
 destined for the use and food of man, and more espe 
 cially for that precious alimentary production, MILK, of 
 such importance in rearing our children and adapted to 
 such a variety of other family purposes. For a constant 
 supply of this invaluable resource, we depend on the 
 female of this race, the harmless and docile cow, which 
 is compelled to produce and part with that secretion, in 
 tended by nature for the support of her own progeny." 
 
 As Hope heard the watery swash which an 
 nounced that the butter had " come," she turned 
 with an expression of dismay to a little clock hang 
 ing in the kitchen. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " she said aloud. " Only seven 
 minutes again." 
 
 "And who is it bewailing seven minutes lost?" 
 called out a cheery voice, and Dr. John came 
 around the corner of the house. 
 
 " It is n t exactly seven minutes lost, doctor," 
 
WINTER ON A CALIFORNIA EANCH. 93 
 
 replied Hope seriously ; " but I can t seem to keep 
 the butter back till the proper time." 
 
 " And, pray, what is the proper time ? " asked 
 the doctor mystified. 
 
 "The time in the book," explained Hope, point 
 ing to the book lying open beside the churn. Dr. 
 John took it up and read the paragraph to which 
 she pointed : 
 
 " 4 Butter which comes too quickly is not likely 
 to be good, nor ought any to come, indeed, under 
 an hour s labour. Why, what sort of a book is 
 this?" demanded the doctor, turning over the 
 leaves. " Listen to this advice : It is recom 
 mended to confine the hinder legs of a cow, whilst 
 milking, as well as the head, the former of which 
 is most securely effected by two stumps of wood 
 fixed in the ground, to which the hinder legs may 
 be strapped. I should like to see a California cow 
 submit to such an indignity." 
 
 " She does n t submit. She acts awfully. She 
 kicks, and lashes her tail, and tumbles over, and 
 holds back her milk, and tries to hook. Ned has 
 an awful time whenever he milks her," explained 
 Hope. 
 
 " So Ned is trying it ? " cried Dr. John, making 
 a severe effort to compose his face, but unable to 
 subdue the merry twinkle in his eye. " I shall have 
 to tell the boys not to go by all the advice they find 
 in books. And don t worry about the butter if it 
 chooses to come at the first turn of the crank. But 
 what has this to do with cows? " and looking further 
 
94 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 on, in the same chapter, the doctor read as fol 
 lows : 
 
 " 4 In years past I had a fine cat, which we 
 named Bonaparte, and which we suffered to retain 
 that splendid name, until his godfather became an 
 apostate and a tyrant. Why, Ned," he said, as 
 the boy came in, " this book is a regular curiosity : 
 worth its weight in gold to some of our biblio 
 maniacs. But don t try to farm by it." 
 
 " I don t intend to any longer," answered Ned. 
 "We have something better now. Mr. Eoberts 
 has sent us a complete set of the Encyclope 
 dia." 
 
 " Indeed," exclaimed Dr. John, his eyes bright 
 ening. " That is a gift worth having. I came over 
 intending to make a little contribution to your read 
 ing matter myself. I have a morning and an even 
 ing paper daily, an illustrated weekly or so, and 
 several magazines every month. Suppose I send 
 over to you all that has accumulated at the end of 
 every week. Of course they won t be very fresh, 
 but they will help you to keep up with the world s 
 news." 
 
 "It will be a great treat," said Ned heartily. 
 " I m not sure but it will be much better for us not 
 to have them oftener. Reading is such a tempta 
 tion. It would be hard to go about our work, with 
 a fresh newspaper unread." 
 
 Ned was thinking of Martin rather than himself. 
 The doctor s next question brought back to him 
 the unhappy memory of his recent experience. 
 
WINTER ON A CALIFORNIA RANCH. 95 
 
 " How is your father, Ned ? I understand you 
 have been down to see him." 
 
 " About the same, sir, I should judge. I don t 
 know when any of us will see him again. They 
 don t want us to come there." 
 
 " Don t want you to come ? " repeated Dr. John, 
 in amazement. 
 
 " No, sir. The doctor there thinks it does him 
 harm, excites him. We hoped to go down more, 
 after a while. It must be so tiresome for him, 
 lying there day after day, seeing nobody that really 
 cares for him." 
 
 Dr. John said nothing by way of comment, but 
 he paced up and down, as he was in the habit of 
 doing when deeply stirred, with his lips firmly set 
 and a stern look on his face. At length he stopped 
 short, with an air of cheerful determination. 
 
 " I see just one way out of it," he said. " These 
 hospital authorities are very arbitrary sometimes, 
 and it is not wise to defy them. But I know a 
 man I have a friend who will go to see your 
 father every week, and carry any messages you 
 may like to send, and bring us reports of his condi 
 tion." 
 
 " We could n t ask for anything better," declared 
 Ned, and Martin s look of relief and Hope s bright 
 eyes confirmed his assertion. 
 
 After Dr. John left, they remembered that this 
 was the first time they had seen him since the holi 
 days. They wondered if he had been away, and 
 how he had spent the time. Had they but known 
 
96 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 it, the question was one that had for many years 
 puzzled the people of the valley. Genial as the 
 doctor was in his relations with his patients, he 
 always declined the invitations that were pressed 
 upon him at this period of the year, and on Christ 
 mas Day he always shut himself up in his house, 
 never leaving it unless in obedience to some urgent 
 professional summons. 
 
 It was about this time that Dr. John took to 
 church-going. He had never been a very zealous 
 attendant at divine service before, having quite out 
 raged the feelings of the more conservative in the 
 community, by spending the hours that others passed 
 in the house of worship at the bedside of sick chil 
 dren, showing them pictures, telling them stories, 
 and inventing all manner of amusements for them. 
 Now he became a steady church-goer, and rose in 
 public estimation accordingly, although he did not 
 patronize local theology, but went off on the early 
 Sunday morning train, presumably to listen to the 
 gospel as expounded by some brilliant Oakland or 
 San Francisco divine. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE HOPE EXPRESS. 
 
 DECEMBER had been an open and pleasant month, 
 made up of warm and sunshiny days, interspersed 
 with a few light showers. The California climate, 
 so extravagantly extolled by many, so unjustly de 
 nounced by a few, is little understood even by those 
 who have lived under it the better portion of their 
 lives. 
 
 It is common to hear old Californians boastfully 
 declare that the State has no seasons, whereas each 
 month brings its varying changes as surely as the 
 year comes round. In the city the skillful garden 
 er s artifice does much to smooth away these differ 
 ences and to make all months alike ; but those who 
 live in the country know that California has her 
 seasons, clear cut and well defined as those of New 
 England, the distinction being that while New 
 England boasts of four, the Golden State has but 
 three, and two of these, spring and fall, are robbed 
 of much their harshness, their poetry and beauty 
 alone being preserved. 
 
 January is a month of compromise between fall 
 and spring. It is sure to bring many chilly, wet, 
 and disagreeable days. Even at Home Ranch there 
 
98 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 were nights when the mercury hovered about the 
 freezing point, and once it dropped a single degree 
 below, but Hope s delicate plants were uninjured, 
 while the hardy peas seemed to grow and thrive the 
 better. 
 
 In the intervals between the rains, the boys laid 
 out the new orchard they meant to plant, and dug 
 holes for the young trees. Meanwhile, the " state 
 of siege " which the doctor had predicted came upon 
 them with the beginning of the new year. After a 
 week or so of rainy weather the stream became so 
 swollen that it spread out over the lowlands along 
 its banks, snatching the raft from its moorings and 
 sweeping it down the stream. Thereafter they 
 were completely cut off from intercourse with all 
 the rest of the world, and it was only human for 
 the three children to feel a little lonely, and to look 
 forward yearningly to the time when they could 
 have communication with their friends again. 
 
 With the beginning of February, spring burst 
 suddenly upon them. The almond trees in the 
 orchard, which had retained their fresh green foli 
 age until Christmas, expanded into a radiance of 
 bloom. 
 
 " Martin," said Ned solemnly, " if we are going 
 to prune those trees, as the doctor and Mr. Abbott 
 advised us, we must n t lose another day." 
 
 " All right," said Martin. " But what are we to 
 do the pruning with ? " 
 
 True enough. They had neglected to provide 
 themselves with pruning shears, knife, or saw. 
 
THE ROPE EXPRESS. 99 
 
 " We 11 just have to take the compass saw from 
 our tool chest, and the large handsaw, and make 
 our jackknives do the rest." 
 
 So the two set to work, making up in energy 
 what they lacked in skill and experience. 
 
 " I 11 tell you what I mean to do, if our peas 
 come out well, as they give every promise of doing," 
 announced Ned one day, as he lopped off a huge 
 peach limb and flung it upon a pile of brush. " I m 
 going to get some grape-vines, and set them out in 
 the same patch, when we tear up the pea-vines. 
 The ground is already cultivated, and cuttings are 
 only three dollars a thousand. We can plant as 
 many as we have time to put in before April is 
 over." 
 
 " Good ! " approved Martin. " I should like to 
 have a vineyard of our own. I always did like 
 grapes, and grape pies, and grape jelly Why, 
 Ned ! what s the matter ? " 
 
 Ned had suspended his work, and sat weakly 
 down 011 a heap of brush, gazing moodily before 
 him. 
 
 " The peas," he explained. " Oh, Martin ! why 
 did n t we think of it before ? Why did n t any 
 body think of it for us ? " 
 
 "The peas?" repeated Martin. "What s the 
 matter with the peas ? I m sure there s a splen 
 did crop, Ned. I was looking at them this morn 
 ing. They 11 be ready for market by the end of 
 this month." 
 
 " How are we going to get them to market ? " 
 
100 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Martin came down out of the apricot-tree, into 
 which he had climbed, and joined his brother on 
 the brush heap. 
 
 " Make a new raft ? " he suggested. 
 
 " And try to pole it a hundred feet across that 
 boiling torrent ! " answered Ned disdainfully. " A 
 boat couldn t live in it." 
 
 " Then there s no way but to go round by the 
 hill road." 
 
 " What ? Risk our horses necks and our own, 
 by climbing up that slippery trail? Let down a 
 rope and grappling iron for the peas after getting 
 ourselves up ; then crawl around the hills for miles, 
 carrying a single sack of peas to the station ? Oh, 
 a fine condition they would be in, by the time they 
 got there," observed Ned ironically. " I don t see 
 any way out of it, unless the doctor can help us ; 
 but how we can even remind him of the plight 
 we re in is more than I can see." 
 
 Dr. John was not one of the sort of people who 
 need reminding. For days he had been thinking 
 of the young people s situation, and trying to devise 
 some means of escape from it. 
 
 That very afternoon they heard a faint halloo 
 above the roaring of the waters, and running down 
 to the bank of the stream, found Dr. John standing 
 on the other side, with a coil of rope beside him, 
 and what looked like a large bow and arrow in his 
 hand. 
 
 He pointed to a tall sycamore on their side of 
 The Brook, taking aim high up among the branches. 
 
THE ROPE E&PKLSS. 101 
 
 As he let the arrow fly, .a slender; edrd -trailed 
 through the air in its wake. . The arrow fled 
 through the sycamore, but the cord became tangled 
 in the boughs and arrested its progress. They saw 
 it dangling there. 
 
 The doctor waved his hand in the direction of 
 the arrow, and began to pay out string. Ned 
 obeyed the hint, and climbed the tree, drawing in 
 the cord. A length of heavy twine followed the 
 cord, and to this was attached some stout man ilia 
 rope, which brought with it a solid iron pulley, 
 such as is ordinarily attached to hoisting tackle. 
 Martin cried out in delight, as he saw the doctor s 
 purpose. Taking advantage of two great syca 
 mores, which stood on opposite sides of the stream, 
 he was rigging up a cord and pulley for conveying 
 weights across, as cables are sometimes attached to 
 wrecked vessels, to convey passengers and valuables 
 ashore. 
 
 Soon it became Ned s turn to send back the cord, 
 that the rope might be returned to the other side. 
 With a boy s ready ingenuity he prepared a rude 
 bow, and, after a little bungling archery, sent the 
 arrow successfully across. 
 
 The pulleys were soon secured to the old syca 
 mores, and the line was in working order. 
 
 Martin, who had quite expected to see Dr. John 
 himself climb into a great hamper and make the 
 trip across, and who was secretly entertaining great 
 schemes of aerial travel for his own amusement, 
 was somewhat disappointed to see a small, covered 
 
102 THtf ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 basket "seci ired to the rope and sent across. When 
 opened, it proved to be fiiil of papers and maga 
 zines, with a note to Hope on top. On the outside 
 of this was a penciled inquiry addressed to the 
 boys : 
 
 "How soon will your peas be ready for mar 
 ket?" 
 
 Ned took an old envelope from his pocket, and 
 wrote : 
 
 " In about ten days or two weeks." 
 
 When Dr. John received this communication, he 
 filled a couple of leaves from his notebook with 
 rapid penciling and sent them across the stream. 
 Both boys bent eagerly over this message. 
 
 " You must send them in gunny sacks, packed 
 full, and sewed together at the top with stout twine. 
 I 11 see that you get the sacks the last of this week. 
 Tie a card to each, with your own name on it, and 
 the name and address of your commission firm. 
 Get them down here every day at half past five in 
 the afternoon. The produce train goes out at seven 
 o clock every night except Saturday. I 11 attend 
 to the shipping." 
 
 The note that the doctor had addressed to Hope 
 read as follows : 
 
 MY DEAR HOPE, The friend of whom. I spoke 
 has been to see your father regularly once a week 
 and will continue to do so. There is no change in 
 his condition, and he is as comfortable as he can be 
 made. Yours obediently, DR. JOHN. 
 
THE ROPE EXPRESS. 103 
 
 Two weeks later the boys began picking peas. 
 It was great fun at first, but when several hours 
 had passed, and they found that their backs were 
 getting tired and they had not yet half a sack be 
 tween them, they were almost ready to give up in 
 despair. They were glad enough when Hope came 
 to their aid, although Martin was sure that she 
 could never stand it for five minutes. When they 
 found that she was picking nearly as many peas as 
 both of them together, they were amazed, and Hope 
 modestly tried to explain away her superior skill 
 by attributing it to the fact that she used her apron 
 for a basket, and thereby kept both hands free for 
 picking. But ah ! the little fingers, trained al 
 most from babyhood to a thousand and one house 
 hold tasks, were defter and quicker than the boys 
 clumsy hands, hardened now by rough labor. 
 
 Hope s skill among the pea-vines resulted in a 
 new division of domestic tasks, for the little maid, 
 seeing the sun high in the heavens, lamented at the 
 thought of leaving her task to prepare luncheon. 
 
 " Oh, boys, I do so hate to leave ! Could n t 
 wouldn t one of you just put the things on the 
 table? There is nothing to be cooked. Every 
 thing is ready in the pantry." 
 
 " The idea ! " sputtered Martin indignantly. 
 
 " Martin," said Ned calmly, " this is a question 
 of domestic political economy. It s a question of 
 relative values. If Hope is worth two of us out 
 here, it would be very shallow policy for us to re 
 fuse to substitute for her in the house. I pick 
 
104 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 faster than you, old fellow. You go in the house 
 and get lunch." 
 
 Martin laughed good-naturedly and went to the 
 house ; and as Martin was a boy who liked to excel 
 in everything he did, he revenged himself upon 
 Hope for her proficiency in picking peas by out 
 shining her in his arrangement of the table. 
 
 The boys had the good fortune to get their peas in 
 among the earliest in the market. The first sacks 
 sold at twelve and a half cents a pound, and the 
 price dropped with each succeeding shipment, but 
 they picked seventy-five sacks in all, and when they 
 had finished they found that the venture had netted 
 them nearly three hundred dollars, a sum that seemed 
 ,a small fortune to them. 
 
 When the pea-vines had all been pulled and 
 stacked for fodder, they sent to the nursery for 
 grape cuttings, and planted three acres in vines. 
 They also procured the almond trees they had de 
 cided to plant earlier in the year, and for which 
 they had already made preparations, and little by 
 little they got in four acres of young nut trees. 
 
 Before the spring was over Dr. John had swung 
 a narrow suspension bridge between the trees. It 
 was a light structure, designed only for foot passen 
 gers, neither very firm nor very strong, but it was 
 a vast improvement on the raft, and the children 
 could not express their pleasure and gratitude. 
 
 " It is splendid, Dr. John," declared Hope. " But 
 it must have been so much trouble for you, and 
 I am afraid it must have cost a lot of money." 
 
THE EOPE EXPRESS. 105 
 
 " A mere trifle," replied the doctor coolly. "And 
 what is this you boys were saying a little while ago 
 about mending the old trail over the hills ? " 
 
 " We ve got it in pretty good order, sir," replied 
 Ned ; " though I don t think we shall have much 
 use for it now." 
 
 " But I shall," returned Dr. John, with a slight 
 grimace. " There is a family living a mile or two 
 back of you that is perpetually sending for me in 
 the dead of night. Sometimes the trouble is a 
 toothache, sometimes a little cold or fever, very 
 often a sore finger or toe, the boys are always get 
 ting hurt with their guns. But the crisis invariably 
 comes on late at uight, and this old trail is going to 
 save me miles of travel." 
 
 " Is it the McCrarys ? " asked Ned, laughing. 
 
 "Yes, it is the McCrarys," smiled the doctor; 
 " and I should n t wonder if they d be very neigh 
 borly with you when they find they can get down 
 here without much trouble. The McCrarys always 
 have plenty of time to spare, but not much besides. 
 You 11 pay a heavy tax yet for opening that trail." 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 HOPE AND THE BIRDS. 
 
 WHILE Ned and Martin were busy with their 
 outdoor labor, Hope found occupation and enter 
 tainment in a variety of delightful ways. During 
 the first days of March the song-birds all re-ap 
 peared. 
 
 The first of the year had been the signal for 
 many of them to hide away in mysterious nooks, 
 leaving only the titmouse, the meadow lark, and a 
 few other sweet-voiced but shy songsters. 
 
 But when the trees came into blossom, the air 
 was again glad with music. First came the dainty 
 goldfinches, with song so faint and sweet that it 
 seemed to melt into the air with the flutter of their 
 green and golden wings. Next came the linnets, 
 the female quiet and domestic in her garb of gray, 
 but with bright eyes that never failed to single out 
 the most desirable location for raising her young 
 brood ; the male brilliant and imperious, with his 
 crimson crest and breast and his clear, sustained 
 song. And then all of the feathered tribe seemed 
 to settle down at once on Home Ranch : wrens, 
 yellowhammers, kingbirds, woodpeckers, bluebirds, 
 blue jays, humming-birds, gold-winged blackbirds, 
 
HOPE AND THE BIRDS. 107 
 
 sparrows, and a host of others, some of which not 
 even the scientific people have yet named. 
 
 Hope knew all the biras secrets. She watched 
 their love-making and their quarreling, their ab 
 surd jealousies, their battles and their merry-mak 
 ings. She knew of the wren s nest beside the 
 smoke-house door ; of the meadow larks nests on 
 the ground in the pasture ; of the titmouse s nest 
 in the rushes by The Brook ; of the robins nest in 
 the walnut tree ; of the goldfinches nests in apple 
 and plum trees ; of the linnets nests anywhere and 
 everywhere within convenient range of the orchard. 
 
 A pair of humming-birds, that hovered perpetu 
 ally about the house, greatly perplexed her for a 
 while. They were the most marvelous little crea 
 tures that ever wore feathers, being scarcely larger 
 than fair-sized butterflies, and tricked out in glossy 
 plumage of bronze and green, glowing with a me 
 tallic lustre, while collars of the most brilliant ruby 
 color encircled their throats. 
 
 One day the boys, coming in from their work in 
 the vineyard, met Hope, her eyes shining, and her 
 lips parted with excitement. 
 
 " I ve found them out ! I Ve found them out," 
 she cried. " Come with me ; but step, oh, ever 
 so softly ! or you ll frighten them." 
 
 She led the way to the climbing rose at the front 
 of the house, and carefully lifting a branch, mo 
 tioned to the boys to look under it. There, hidden 
 in the leafy covert, no higher than the young girl s 
 chin, was the daintiest nest ever seen, made of soft 
 
108 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 cotton from the pussy willows by The Brook, inter 
 woven with the finest grasses and green mosses, 
 and embroidered with one shining golden thread. 
 And there was wee mother humming-bird, watch 
 ing them a moment with bright, inquiring eyes, 
 then darting off and poising in the air just above 
 their heads, uncovering two tiny eggs about the 
 size of buckshot, lying in a downy hollow like a 
 thimble. 
 
 " I saw her take the thread of yellow silk about 
 a week ago," whispered Hope breathlessly ; " I 
 threw it out, with some bits of cotton and some 
 raveled yarn. I do it every day, it is such fun 
 to see the birds scurry off with them, looking over 
 their shoulders to see if I am watching. They ve 
 grown to expect it, and it helps me to find the 
 nests. Two linnets were fighting over the piece of 
 bright silk, and the humming-bird came down like 
 a flash and carried it off." 
 
 " If you could only tame her ! " suggested Mar 
 tin. " I ve read of setting a little honey or sugar 
 and water in the window, and that birds will learn 
 to come for it." 
 
 Hope tried the experiment, and not only the 
 birds came for the sweet food, but it attracted any 
 number of gorgeous butterflies, of every size and 
 of all the colors of the rainbow. These beautiful 
 creatures were not content to sip their sweets on 
 the window sill, but soon learned to dart into the 
 room, and they circled around the little woman who 
 looked after their tastes with such consideration, 
 
HOPE AND THE BIRDS. 109 
 
 frequently alighting on her head and shoulders, 
 and even upon her hands. But after a few weeks 
 the wild flowers on the hills allured them, and the 
 flies arrived in such swarms that Hope was con 
 strained to put aside the tempting dainties. She 
 resolved, however, to have a "butterfly month" 
 every spring, and this pretty custom became a part 
 of the established order at Home Ranch. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE OLD ORCHARD. 
 
 THE children did not know how much they had 
 missed Dr. John until now that he resumed his 
 old habit of coming over once a day to look in 
 upon them and advise them, poor farmer though 
 he claimed to be. The day after the hanging 
 bridge was put in place the doctor found his way 
 to the orchard where the boys were hoeing, and 
 looked about, with hearty approval, at the changes 
 they had made. The trees were no longer ill- 
 shapen and straggling, but had been carefully 
 trimmed, while young trees had been planted in 
 all the vacant spaces. Beside the old trees were 
 two rows of fig-suckers that Martin had set out. 
 
 " The old fig-trees don t look to me exactly 
 healthy," remarked Ned. " If you 11 just look at 
 them closely, doctor, you 11 see there are little 
 bunches coming out in the axil of every leaf. 
 They look as if they might have been made by 
 some insect, but I ve looked high and low, and I 
 can t find a sign of a bug or worm." 
 
 " Why, my boy," exclaimed Dr. John, " those 
 are the figs." 
 
 " The figs ! They have n t had a sign of a blos 
 som yet." 
 
THE OLD ORCHARD. Ill 
 
 " I remember, I remember," cried Martin. " The 
 book says the florescence is inside of the fig." 
 
 The doctor quietly cut open a fig and handed it 
 to the boys, with a little magnifying glass. True 
 enough, there were the myriads of tiny blossoms 
 clustered about the hollow centre of the fruit. 
 
 A little farther on they came to a row of per 
 haps a dozen and a half trees, heavily loaded with 
 green fruit, and so surrounded with props that they 
 resembled the sacred banian-trees of India, which 
 send down roots and grow new trunks from the 
 tips of the horizontal branches. 
 
 "What in the world is this?" demanded the 
 doctor. 
 
 " Those are our apricots. Are n t we going to 
 have a pile, though ! You can t see some of the 
 branches at all, the fruit is so clustered around 
 them." 
 
 " It really seems as if we can t get enough props 
 for them," sighed Ned. " It keeps Martin and me 
 busy a couple of hours every morning, and it s 
 getting hard to find room for the props. Just see 
 how those branches up above are bending down. 
 They 11 break before to-morrow if we don t prop 
 them." 
 
 " How would it do to put some of the branches 
 in slings ? " suggested Dr. John. 
 
 " In slings ? I don t quite understand, sir," said 
 Ned. 
 
 Ned looked keenly at Dr. John, and saw that he 
 put up his hand and pulled his mustache to cover 
 a smile that bade fair to expand into a laugh. 
 
112 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Dr. John, what ought we to do ? " 
 
 " Boys, did you never hear of such a thing as 
 thinning fruit ? " 
 
 " Oh, we don t want to do anything like that," 
 protested Martin. " The papers say the apricot 
 crop is going to be very light this year. They re 
 going to be our main crop, and we re going to save 
 every one." 
 
 " Do people ever * thin fruit, doctor ? " asked 
 Ned. 
 
 " Well, yes, they do," Teplied the doctor. " In 
 fact, it s quite the custom. During this month and 
 next thinning fruit will be the chief occupation on 
 almost every ranch throughout the county." 
 
 " But the idea ! " cried Martin, who could not 
 brook the thought of parting with any of his cher 
 ished apricots before their time. " Just as if the 
 trees didn t know best what they were able to 
 stand. Is n t nature the best guide, Dr. John? " 
 
 " Nature has had possession of this orchard for 
 about seven years, and you can see what a job she 
 has made of it," retaliated the doctor. " Nature, 
 young man, knows nor cares nothing about supply 
 ing the demands of our city markets. She is domi 
 nated by one purpose ; the propagation of species. 
 The more a tree or plant is neglected, the greater 
 its fecundity. All its strength and vitality are 
 directed to that purpose, although it is sometimes 
 its fate to be stamped out of existence by other 
 plants still more prolific and persistent, like the 
 weeds that had possession of the soil when you came 
 
THE OLD ORCHABD. 113 
 
 here. If you want apricots of a marketable size, 
 you must thin them out." 
 
 " Well, I, for one, shall be glad to be relieved of 
 the trouble of hunting up props," declared Ned ; 
 " and they will make excellent firewood, Martin. 
 How many apricots would you leave on a branch, 
 doctor ? " he asked, taking hold of a bough of the 
 tree under which they stood, and commencing to 
 pluck off the fruit. 
 
 " The fruit should be at least four or five inches 
 apart on an apricot tree. Peaches are always 
 thinned to a distance of seven or eight inches. 
 Of course, it is necessary to exercise a little judg 
 ment. If you find a stout branch with the fruit 
 all clustered in one spot, it would be reasonable to 
 leave two or three close together. Be careful not 
 to pull off any little leaf-twigs with the fruit. It 
 takes a good deal of courage, boys, to thin fruit as 
 one ought. Mr. Abbott tells a good story of a 
 young Scotchman who came out here last year, and 
 whom he set to work thinning fruit in his orchard. 
 The man worked on for a time in open disapproval. 
 When he had removed about a third of the neces 
 sary amount of fruit, he struck work, and sur 
 veyed the tree and the ground beneath it. I ve 
 thrawn awa a tha gude fruit I m gaun to ! he 
 announced, with dignified decision, and walked off 
 from the ranch, and was seen no more." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MAKING IMPROVEMENTS. 
 
 BY the middle of May the last rains of the sea 
 son had long since passed. The ground the Austins 
 had under cultivation had received its last harrow 
 ing, and presented the smooth, crummy appearance 
 so dear to the eyes of the California farmer. 
 
 The boys now had before them six months of 
 comparative leisure, which would be broken in 
 upon only by the harvesting of their light fruit 
 crop, in mid-summer. 
 
 For summer was upon them with the middle of 
 May. The temperature, whose average had been 
 steadily raised each month of the year, attained a 
 really genial warmth. On the hills all the sunny 
 exposures were brilliant with wild flowers of every 
 hue, and in the shaded gorges and on the north 
 side of the hills beautiful ferns spread their delicate 
 tracery of green against the deeper emerald of 
 moss, or the warm browns and yellows of lichen- 
 bespattered rocks. Lush grasses, on which the 
 cattle loved to feed, carpeted the openings between 
 the trees on the mountains, and grew rank and 
 high over the little pasture on Home Ranch. 
 
 The sycamores, alders, madronas, maples, and 
 
MAKING IMPROVEMENTS. 115 
 
 willows along The Brook rejoiced in their summer 
 foliage, and their fresh greens stood out in beauti 
 ful relief against the sombre tones of the evergreen 
 oak. Orchard and vineyard were marching on to 
 the fruition of their spring promises ; not with the 
 unseemly haste of northern and New England 
 summers, but with stately, measured step, as if 
 they realized the generous allotment of time nature 
 had given them, in which to complete their season s 
 task. 
 
 Early in the season Ned and Martin began to 
 excavate a reservoir to hold back the water of the 
 spring, in order to get a sufficient head to irrigate 
 the figs in the old orchard. The doctor came upon 
 them one day when they were engaged in this 
 work. 
 
 "My patience, boys, what a hole you have 
 made ! " he cried. " Don t you think you have 
 rather overdone it? Twenty or thirty thousand 
 gallons would have given you a big supply. This 
 will hold fifty or sixty thousand, at the least." 
 
 Ned looked very much abashed. 
 
 " Have you any idea how much cement it s going 
 to take, Dr. John, or how much lime and sand we 
 ought to mix with it ? The encyclopedia is very 
 free in telling all about its composition, but very 
 indefinite about proportions." 
 
 " I can t say, I m sure," replied Dr. John, shak 
 ing his head and knitting his brows. " I am afraid 
 it will cost a small fortune." 
 
 The boys looked at each other in a crestfallen 
 
116 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 silence. Suddenly Dr. John s eye brightened and 
 his manner changed. 
 
 "Hello! What is this?" 
 
 He kicked a hard, rock-like substance with his 
 foot, and then stooped and picked up a lump. 
 
 " Oh, that ? That sticky old clay ! It did seem 
 as if we would never get it out. The bottom s all 
 made up of it. Just see that big pile over there. 
 It s all one solid lump," explained Martin. 
 
 Dr. John stepped over to the pile of clay indi 
 cated by the boy, and, breaking away the outer 
 crust, possessed himself of a moist and plastic lump. 
 Moulding this into a hollow cup, he dipped it into 
 the spring and held it out, filled with water, in his 
 hand. 
 
 " Well ? " said Ned inquiringly. 
 
 " Do you see a leak anywhere ? " 
 
 " No, sir. It s water-tight." 
 
 " What did you want the cement for? " 
 
 " Why, to keep the water from soaking into the 
 earth ; to make the reservoir water-tight. Oh, I 
 see. Martin, what geese we have been ! What 
 better lining do we want than this very clay that 
 has been bothering us so?" 
 
 So the reservoir was completed, and by the mid 
 dle of the summer the fig-trees were copiously irri 
 gated twice or three times a week, but not in time 
 to save the first crop, which had already fallen to 
 the ground. The boys supplemented the good 
 work by running a second water - channel, lined 
 with the impervious clay, down to the kitchen door, 
 
MAKING IMPROVEMENTS. 117 
 
 where they made a little reservoir to supply water 
 for household uses. 
 
 They harvested a light fruit crop from the old 
 orchard that year, and, although it was by no 
 means of the first quality, it happened that the 
 fruit crop was everywhere light that year, and they 
 were thus enabled to secure good prices. The fig- 
 trees drank up the water sent down to them, like 
 thirsty camels that had crossed a broad and deso 
 late waste ; but the great leaves hung like so many 
 gigantic sheltering hands over the smooth gray 
 branches, and there was no further sign of fruit or 
 blossom. 
 
 One day, about the last of September, the chil 
 dren passed through the orchard on their way to 
 The Brook, where they had been at work for some 
 clays, preparing material for a rude fence to shut 
 off a corral for the cattle and to protect their win 
 ter s crops. Martin ran over to look at the irri 
 gating ditch and to see if the water was running 
 freely in it, for they had lifted the gate that morn 
 ing. Quite by chance he looked over towards the 
 trees. 
 
 " Come here, Ned ! " he cried exultantly. 
 
 Ned came and looked, and there, in the axils of 
 the huge leaves, were tiny green bunches. 
 
 "Do you think they ll come to anything?" 
 asked Martin anxiously. 
 
 " I don t know. It seems pretty late in the 
 season." 
 
 But they did come to something. Day after day 
 
118 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 the boys watched the trees, as they went back and 
 forth, dragging logs and timber for the fence. So 
 rapidly did the fruit " come on " that they felt it 
 prudent to order a couple of dozen fig-boxes, and 
 they had them ready none too soon. The figs ex 
 panded, softened, took on color, and were ready for 
 picking in two weeks from the time they were first 
 discovered. Better still, as soon as the trees were 
 relieved of the ripe fruit the small green figs began 
 to swell. On the 21st of October, twelve days 
 after the first picking, a second crop was ready for 
 market, and this excelled the first in quantity and 
 quality. On the 2d of November, precisely twelve 
 days later, the third crop, less in quantity but of 
 even finer quality, was gathered. On the eighth 
 of November, seven days later, the last crop, a 
 straggling remnant, was sold at good prices. Alto 
 gether, they netted upwards of nineteen dollars 
 from four trees, and were jubilant, as they well 
 might be, over the success of this little crop. 
 
 When they came to count up the profits from 
 their entire fruit crop that season, they found that, 
 small as the sum was, it very nearly covered their 
 living expenses for the whole summer, leaving the 
 money they had received for the peas almost un 
 touched. 
 
 During the summer months the boys carried out 
 a long-cherished plan, and entered upon a system 
 atic course of home study, aided by Dr. John s ad 
 vice, and by an eastern educational society, of 
 which they became corresponding members. 
 
MAKING IMPROVEMENTS. 119 
 
 Hope had taken her share in the out-door work, 
 as well as the boys, and there had been a division 
 of household tasks as unexpected as it was pleasant 
 for the young girl. The new life had a magical 
 effect on the slight child, and the roses bloomed 
 in her cheeks for the first time since her mother 
 died. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 TWO SURPRISES. 
 
 THERE caine a time in the fall when the boys 
 were at a loss to know what to do with the long 
 hours that hung heavily upon them. 
 
 " Let s prospect. There are lots of rocks about 
 here. We might find a gold or silver lode. Any 
 way, we could start a cabinet of stones and bugs 
 and things," proposed Martin. 
 
 " I d enjoy that kind of thing as much as you, 
 if my mind were only free, Martin," rejoined Ned. 
 " But I have a feeling all the time that we ought 
 to be working to some purpose. Just see the way 
 we re living : sleeping in the only sitting-room 
 we ve got. It is n t nice for Hope, and it is n t 
 nice for us. I wish there was some way we could 
 tack on an extra room." 
 
 " We could do it if we had the lumber," said 
 Martin confidently. 
 
 * But we have n t, and we can t afford it, either ; 
 even if we could contrive to get it over here. But 
 if we could even make it out of logs ; now that 
 seems feasible. There are any number of young 
 saplings down by the stream, and we could plaster 
 the chinks with clay. You know there s an extra 
 
TWO SURPRISES. 121 
 
 door already, leading out of the front room, that 
 we could use. A window would be easily enough 
 managed." 
 
 The boys went down to the brook, taking axe 
 and hatchet, and blazing a mark on young trees of 
 suitable size, as they came across them. There was 
 a little piece of woodland bordering on the stream 
 at the extreme southern corner of their place, that 
 they had never explored. Searching for straight 
 and shapely young trees, they followed the stream 
 down farther than they had ever gone before, and 
 went out on a little neck of land that projected 
 sharply into the water, where the stream made a 
 sudden bend and left the hills, which seemed to 
 crowd it too closely, to escape into the free and 
 open valley. 
 
 The lower side of this neck of land abutted 
 on an out-jutting ledge of rock that overhung the 
 water. The upper side was bordered with tall trees 
 that seemed to interlace and form an impenetrable 
 hedge. Ned walked over to see what prospects 
 there were in this direction. He climbed into one 
 of the trees, in order to see what lay beyond. 
 
 " Martin, come here! " he cried in excitement. 
 
 Martin s nimble limbs soon helped him to his 
 brother s side, whence he looked down upon an as 
 tonishing sight. The file of tall forest trees had 
 acted like the booms constructed in the lumber 
 regions of the north to catch logs carried clown by 
 the winter freshets. Piled up against them was a 
 goodly share of the debris of the flood, a fantastic 
 
122 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 medley of skeleton trees, uprooted chaparral, fence 
 rails and posts, heavy timber, planks, lumber of 
 every description ; assorted odds and ends, enough 
 to build a house, had there only been more of a 
 kind. 
 
 " Do you mind giving me a pinch, Martin, to see 
 whether I m awake ? It s altogether too Crusoe- 
 like," declared Ned. " You remember how it was 
 with Robinson : whenever he was in great need of 
 anything, it was sure to turn up right to his hand." 
 
 " Crusoe-like or no," rejoined Martin, " we ve got 
 our room, and firewood enough for a year to come, 
 if we can ever untangle it." 
 
 It is no easy matter for two boys, who have never 
 had any experience in building, to put up a dwell 
 ing, or a portion of a dwelling, so that it shall be 
 safe for people to live in it. The boys puzzled long 
 over the framing of the timbers, being finally 
 helped out of their quandary by Dr. John, who was 
 a practical observer, and knew just enough to show 
 them how to put the framework together in such a 
 way as to make it firm and solid. 
 
 The room grew but slowly, for much of the work 
 was really beyond the boys strength, and they 
 were obliged to take frequent rests. They built up 
 the walls breast-high with hewn saplings, and above 
 these they clapboarded with broad planks, the 
 lower edge of each overlapping the top of the next 
 below, so as to shed water. 
 
 It was a rough specimen of building when they 
 had done, but it was substantial, and answered 
 
TWO SURPRISES. 123 
 
 their purpose nicely. The room was much larger 
 than they had meant to make it, for they wanted to 
 do the most with their lumber, and could not bear 
 to cut off an unnecessary foot. It looked rougher 
 from the inside than from without, and Hope, with 
 the instinct of a neat housewife, pointed out the 
 ledges that would catch dust, and the attractive 
 prospect it offered to spiders and cockroaches. 
 
 After a short consultation, the boys went down 
 to the village store and bought a whole piece of 
 figured chintz, at eight cents a yard. This they 
 cut into appropriate lengths, which Hope stitched 
 together on the machine, and when it was ready 
 they tacked it into place, completely covering the 
 ceiling and the walls. It was a pretty piece of cloth, 
 gray, with a little pink figure, and the effect was 
 really very pleasant when the room was draped 
 with it. They had made one window, for which they 
 bought frame and sashes, and when Hope took an 
 old white sheet, and, gathering the top on a cord, 
 tacked it into place, catching it back with a piece 
 of faded pink ribbon from among her own stores, 
 and dressed the bed with a white spread and clean 
 linen, they voted it the very prettiest room in the 
 house. 
 
 They next gave their attention to the outside of 
 the house, and plastered the crumbling adobe with 
 handfuls of moist clay, but this gave it such a 
 mottled look that they were quite ashamed of it 
 when they were done. 
 
 A few days later Ned returned home, after half 
 
124 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 a day s absence, to find Martin standing on a rude 
 ladder they had used when building, a large bucket 
 hooked upon one of the rounds, busily at work upon 
 the side of the house, plying a whitewash brush 
 that had done service about the chicken house. 
 
 " Hold on, Martin ! " Ned shouted, as soon as he 
 got within speaking distance. " Don t daub it up 
 with whitewash, of all things. That will be 
 ghostly." 
 
 " Go around and look at the front of the house, 
 where it is dry," said Martin coolly, without ceas 
 ing his work. 
 
 It was such a piece of presumption for Martin 
 to order him about that Ned mechanically obeyed, 
 overcome by the boy s effrontery. He found the 
 entire front of the house an even, cool gray. 
 
 " How did you manage it, youngster ? " demand 
 ed Ned, when he returned, greatly puzzled, for 
 they had voted that the cost of paint was entirely 
 out of the question. 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Find a mine of natural paint in the hills ? " 
 
 Still no answer. 
 
 " Kob a paint store ? " 
 
 The young artist turned, gave the impertinent 
 questioner one withering look, and resumed his 
 task. 
 
 " Oh, come now. Don t be too hard on a fellow. 
 Is it oil paint, or is it water color, or what in the 
 name of creation is it ? " 
 
 " Lampblack." 
 
TWO SURPRISES. 125 
 
 " Lampblack ! Lampblack is black as soot, and 
 this is a neat gray. Are you crazy, Martin ? " 
 
 " Ask Hope. I in too busy." 
 
 " Yes," said Hope, appearing on the scene, gently 
 triumphant. " It is lampblack, Ned. Just white 
 wash, made with the lime you had left from the 
 chicken -house, with the least bit of lampblack 
 stirred in. Martin and I studied it up together." 
 
 Rain fell about the middle of November, and one 
 morning during the first storm, Ned came puffing 
 into the kitchen, in the midst of a driving shower, 
 with a fawn-colored something in his arms, whose 
 great eyes looked up to Hope with the eloquent 
 appeal of a young deer. 
 
 " Can t you give it a place in the kitchen to-day, 
 Hope ? It is so wet and cold, and can t stand on 
 its legs ; but they say you ought always to take 
 them away from the mother at once." 
 
 " Ned Austin ! " cried Hope, dropping toast and 
 toasting-fork into the fire, in her excitement, and 
 falling on her knees beside the little creature, as 
 Ned laid it tenderly upon the floor. " You don t 
 mean Oh, is n t it lovely ! You pretty, helpless 
 little darling? It isn t Oh, Ned ! It can t be" 
 
 "Beauty s calf? But it is," rejoined Ned. 
 " And you 11 let it stay in the house to-day ? " 
 
 "To-day!" Hope s voice was scathing. "It 
 shall stay in the house all winter" 
 
 "The idea!" shouted Ned, and Martin joined 
 him in his hearty laughter. 
 
126 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " You absurd little girl ! " he contrived to say 
 after a while. " The idea of raising a calf in the 
 house is ridiculous. You can keep it as long as 
 you like. But here s the milk-pail ; put it on the 
 stove, Martin, and warm it a little. We Ve got to 
 teach the little thing to eat." 
 
 With the air of veteran dairymen the two boys 
 went to work, Ned holding the calf s muzzle down 
 in the milk, while Martin inserted one of his fingers 
 in her mouth. It was wonderful how quickly the 
 little creature understood, and began to take the 
 milk. The coffee was cold, and the toasting-fork 
 had done its last service when rescued from the bed 
 of coals, but the three children were in ecstasies of 
 delight, and even old dog Tray, who had risen from 
 his post beside the breakfast-table and come forth 
 to sniff at the intruder, wagged his tail in interested 
 approval. 
 
 There is no animal, unless it be a wee human 
 baby, quite as frail and weak as a little Jersey calf 
 when first it opens its eyes upon this world. Calves 
 of common stock often go galloping over a field a 
 few hours after birth, but this little animal lay 
 helpless and exhausted, the spark of life seeming 
 to glow and fade by turns, while its beautiful eyes 
 appeared to beseech help and sympathy. 
 
 The boys brought in hay and made it a bed in 
 the corner of the kitchen, and Hope scarcely dared 
 trust it out of her sight, but when she was perform 
 ing her daily tasks in the other rooms, kept running 
 to the kitchen to see if the frail creature was still 
 
TWO SURPRISES. 127 
 
 alive. For two successive mornings, although they 
 did not confess it to each other, each of the three 
 tiptoed to the kitchen at break of day, with solemn 
 expectancy in their faces, fully expecting to find 
 their delicate charge stiff and dead. 
 
 On the morning of the fourth day, they were 
 aroused by a prolonged growl from old Tray, which 
 resounded throughout the house. Hope sprang 
 out of bed, wrapped a shawl about her, and flew 
 out of her room, only to encounter the boys, bare 
 footed and vainly trying to fasten their suspenders 
 as they raced towards the kitchen and flung the 
 door open. 
 
 They were greeted by a startling and dramatic 
 sight. The bed of hay in the corner was empty, 
 but before the stove lay old dog Tray, in his accus 
 tomed place, and over him hovered a spectral ap 
 parition, very shaky on its legs, but with Beauty s 
 own bland mischief in its eyes, looking down upon 
 the poor dog, who seemed paralyzed with astonish 
 ment and terror. 
 
 It was plain that Tray thought some strange 
 phantom from canine dreamland had come to haunt 
 him in his waking hours, for he did not stir leg or 
 foot, but, at the opening of the door, turned such a 
 look of distress upon his young protectors that they 
 screamed with merriment. 
 
 The calf, distracted from her victim by this 
 sound, threw up her head, gave them one look, and 
 then charged at them, scattering the little group 
 right and left. She raced through the front room 
 
128 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 to the boys room, kicking up her heels as she van 
 ished from sight ; then reappeared, caromed into 
 Hope s room, bounced back, gave a series of exult 
 ant leaps around the room where they stood, darted 
 out into the kitchen again, made a rush at Tray, 
 who slunk under the table to escape her, knocked 
 a pile of milk-pans off the stove hearth, and was 
 finally seized by the boys and brought to a halt, 
 her great eyes shining with the same calm light. 
 
 " Oh, horrors ! " cried Hope. " Boys, do you 
 think she has gone mad ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it ! " laughed Ned. " She s per 
 fectly level-headed, Hope. Saner than we were. 
 We ought to have known better than to try to 
 keep her in the house." 
 
 " Don t you want to keep her in the house all 
 winter?" jested Martin. 
 
 " Oh, no, no, no ! Take her out just as quick as 
 you can. It s a mercy there s a whole dish in the 
 house," answered the young girl, who could not 
 shake off the horror of what might have been. 
 " Oh, you slyboots ! I never would have believed 
 it of you never." 
 
 " Slyboots shall be her name. You ve chris 
 tened her, Hope," said Ned, who had finally got a 
 rope around the neck of the little heifer calf, and 
 was hauling her, by slow degrees, towards the door. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A TRIP TO THE CITY. 
 
 THE second Christmas after they settled on 
 Home Ranch, Hope and Martin went down to see 
 their father. Discouraged by Ned s reception, and 
 fearful that their presence might somehow work 
 harm to the invalid, they had sent messages and 
 the simple gifts at their command, and received in 
 return the reports of Dr. John s friend, which came 
 regularly every week. But now the doctor him 
 self advised that they should go. 
 
 The sick man had been watching for them all 
 the morning. Every time that the door of the long 
 ward opened, his eyes had turned toward it with 
 an expectant look. He was lying in a great inva 
 lid chair, whose carved frame and soft upholstery 
 contrasted sharply with the simplicity about it. 
 At length his quickened hearing caught the sound 
 of young voices in the hall. The door opened, and 
 there stood his little Hope, looking down the ward 
 in timid inquiry. 
 
 How fair and tall and womanly she had grown ! 
 His heart yearned over her, and he longed to clasp 
 her in his arms, and shower blessings on her dear 
 young head. He could only lie and look at her, 
 
130 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 his eyes eloquent with the love and emotion his 
 lips could not express. 
 
 A sick man in the next cot started up wildly as 
 the innocent girl ran by, with her arms outstretched, 
 a bunch of flowers in her hand. 
 
 " The Angel of Light ! " he cried, and fell back 
 on the pillow, where he watched her with wild, 
 rapt gaze, muttering the words over and over 
 again. 
 
 Others in the ward propped themselves up on 
 one elbow to rejoice in the glad vision. The father 
 alone could give no sign of the joy that filled his 
 heart. 
 
 Ah, well ! It was soon over, and he had only 
 fair memories to remind him of his children s pres 
 ence. The delirious patient in the next cot was 
 still raving about the " angel of light," and died 
 with the cry upon his lips. The bunch of flowers 
 was still there, in the glass where she had placed 
 them ; soon they would fade and die. 
 
 He alone outlived his usefulness. Day and night 
 he waited with long-deferred hope for the coming 
 of the King. 
 
 The children stopped to speak with the physi 
 cian in charge of the ward, as they went out. 
 
 " It was so good of you to get that nice chair for 
 father, sir," said Hope. " He seems so comfortable 
 in it, and it must be such a change for him, after 
 lying all night in bed in one position." 
 
 The physician looked embarrassed. It would not 
 do to let the matter pass in that way. Other 
 
A TRIP TO THE CITY. 131 
 
 patients were within hearing. It might breed dis 
 content in the ward. 
 
 " The hospital board has no money to waste on 
 such luxuries," he said shortly. " That was sent 
 here by your father s friend." 
 
 "Father s friend?" 
 
 " Yes, the gentleman who comes to see him every 
 Sunday." 
 
 " Oh, Dr. John s friend," said Martin ; and 
 when the children reached home that night and 
 saw Dr. John, they broached the subject to him. 
 
 "Dr. John, your friend has brought father a 
 beautiful chair. It is very kind of him, but don t 
 you think we ought to pay for it ? We would 
 like to." 
 
 " Not at all, not at all," said the doctor gruffly. 
 " Let him do it if he wants to. He can afford it 
 better than you." 
 
 " He must be a very generous man, I am sure, 
 to do so much for a stranger," said Hope. 
 
 " On the contrary, he is one of the most selfish 
 men I know," declared Dr. John. " He has done 
 it for nothing in the world but his own pleasure. 
 Oh, I know the man. Let me manage him." 
 
 "I must say I think Dr. John doesn t half ap 
 preciate that friend of his," said Martin, when 
 they had turned away. "I 11 tell you what, I go 
 more on him than I do on Dr. John. You don t 
 know everything about Dr. John." 
 
 " Why, Martin," cried Hope, in amazement. 
 " And just think ! If it had n t been for Dr. John 
 he would never have known anything about father." 
 
132 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Yes, that s so. But it s very easy to do good 
 things by proxy," insisted Martin. 
 
 " By proxy ! Martin Austin ! I should think 
 you d be ashamed of yourself. Perhaps Dr. John 
 has helped us by proxy. Oh, yes, he s helped us 
 by proxy all along, made us welcome here, and 
 looked after us in all sorts of ways, and built the 
 foot bridge, and helped us with encouragement and 
 advice, by proxy, right along ! " 
 
 By the time Hope had finished this incoherent 
 and indignant speech, she was wiping the tears 
 from her eyes, and Martin was ready to prostrate 
 himself in the dust before her, to appease her and 
 his own conscience. 
 
 Yet only the week before, Martin had taken an 
 other ride to Oakland with the doctor, and he felt 
 that he had been installed as Dr. John s confeder 
 ate. He was beginning to understand what it was 
 to " be a man with a history." 
 
 It meant a dark, disgraceful secret to be con 
 cealed. It meant fear and distrust of one s fellow- 
 man. It meant underhand, humiliating ways of 
 doing business. It meant suspicion of others and 
 contempt of one s self. Martin wished with all 
 his heart that the doctor had no history. 
 
 The first year of experiment and struggle was 
 safely past, and the boys felt that they might now 
 look forward to an era of prosperity and comfort. 
 
 Yet serious trouble was close at hand, and Hope, 
 wise, prudent little Hope, was to bring disaster 
 upon them. 
 
CHAPTEK XX. 
 
 HOPE S EMBEZZLEMENT. 
 
 AFTER the money for the peas had been laid 
 aside in the spring, it was really wonderful how 
 nearly their income had kept pace with their ex 
 penses. When December had come and gone, and 
 the new crop was planted, they had drawn less 
 than twenty dollars from the two hundred and odd 
 they had received from their spring sales. 
 
 Ned carefully estimated their expenses for the 
 coming spring, including new suits for himself and 
 Martin, and a liberal contingency fund, and found 
 that he still had a surplus of a hundred dollars. 
 He gave this into Hope s hands, saying : 
 
 " There, little sister, I think you should have 
 command of something. There must be some 
 things you need." 
 
 Hope s eyes glistened as her hand closed on the 
 great double eagles. 
 
 " And may I spend just a little of it for my 
 self?" 
 
 Her voice was so eager that Ned was smitten 
 with self-reproach. 
 
 " Why, Hope ! spend every penny of it if you 
 
134 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 like. What misers we boys have been ! You Ve 
 been wanting something in the way of clothes and 
 would n t tell us.". 
 
 " No, no, not clothes ! " corrected the young 
 girl earnestly. " Flowers." 
 
 " Flowers ? " repeated both boys in chorus. 
 
 " Yes, flowers, roses. Oh, I ve wanted them 
 so much, and there s such a beautiful place for 
 them along the path to The Brook. If I only 
 could go to Mr. Abbott s and buy some out 
 right" 
 
 " Why, of course, Hope," interrupted Ned. 
 " It s high time you had some pleasure for your 
 self. Go to-morrow." 
 
 It was a glad day for Hope when she set out to 
 buy her roses, armed with a capacious basket. 
 
 The gentle nurseryman met her with a pleasant 
 smile. 
 
 " And what wants my little maid with the big 
 basket ? " 
 
 " Some roses, please, Mr. Abbott," replied Hope 
 in a sprightly tone, for it really raised the young 
 girl s spirits to find herself out in the world, nego 
 tiating for these coveted treasures. 
 
 " Koses ?" returned the old man. "And what 
 kind of roses do you want ? " 
 
 " Why, if you please," said Hope, " I think 
 I would like all kinds." 
 
 Mr. Abbott laughed, a pleased, indulgent 
 laugh, that could not have wounded the feelings 
 of anybody. 
 
HOPE S EMBEZZLEMENT. 135 
 
 " My dear," he said, " I am afraid you can t 
 find them here. How many kinds of roses does 
 this little woman suppose there are in cultiva 
 tion ? " 
 
 " Why, I thought I supposed," said Hope, 
 " about a dozen, possibly two dozen." 
 
 " Say two thousand, my child, and you will be 
 nearer right," explained Mr. Abbott gravely. 
 
 " Two thousand ! " repeated the young girl, dis 
 mayed. 
 
 "Double that, and the number is increasing 
 every year," he continued. " But now let us see 
 what we can find. I think I have perhaps thirty 
 or forty varieties that I have picked up from time 
 to time." 
 
 Mr. Abbott was even better than his word. He 
 went the rounds of the place with Hope, and in a 
 short time forty-two plants, representing as many 
 standard varieties of roses, were snugly packed in 
 the willow basket. So Hope handed him four dol 
 lars from her little purse, with as great a pride and 
 a loftier pleasure than if she had been an empress, 
 negotiating for some rare and costly fabric. 
 
 " I really think," remarked the nurseryman, as 
 he led his visitor to his trim little office, to make 
 out a receipt in due form, " that some one might 
 make money by going into roses on a considerable 
 scale. I don t know of any nursery on the coast 
 that makes a specialty of them. Besides propa 
 gating plants for sale, there could be a very decent 
 income secured by selling cut flowers to the city 
 florists." 
 
136 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Hope s eyes brightened with a new light, and the 
 flush in her cheeks deepened. 
 
 " Mr. Abbott," she asked, as he handed her 
 the receipt, " who does keep all kinds of 
 
 ?99 
 
 " I don t know of any one house in the country," 
 replied the old gentleman, " but there are several 
 eastern rose-growers of high repute who have a 
 very large selection. How would you like to carry 
 home some of their catalogues ? They send them 
 to me every year. You will find them very attrac 
 tive books ; in fact they are so very pretty and at 
 tractive that, as I don t care to go any deeper into 
 roses myself, I had quite as lief get rid of their 
 temptations. Perhaps you would like to send on 
 for one of their dollar collections, my dear. They 
 are really worth having." 
 
 He put together several nicely illustrated pam 
 phlets as he spoke, and tucked them in the willow 
 basket, quite unconscious of the firebrand he was 
 touching to the young girl s imagination. 
 
 There was a lot of ground intersected by The 
 Brook path that had been carefully ploughed, and 
 that was admirably suited for ornamental purposes, 
 and Hope at once appropriated it for a rose garden. 
 It so happened that she wished to mass the colors 
 by themselves, but that she could not remember 
 the description of all of them, and she was obliged 
 to consult the catalogues to find out. Now it 
 chanced that the one she took up was the most be 
 witching of all, a thick, magazine-like book, upon 
 
HOPE S EMBEZZLEMENT. 137 
 
 the cover of which a beautiful pink rose was pic 
 tured. Turning the leaves, she came upon some 
 rich-colored plates, representing the latest novelties 
 in roses, and at sight of these the child gave little 
 exclamations of delight. She became so absorbed 
 in the book that it was not until she heard the 
 sound of the boys voices at the house, and looked 
 up to see smoke curling from the kitchen chimney, 
 that she realized how late it was and bethought 
 herself of her neglected duties. Hurriedly " heel 
 ing in " the plants, a process which consisted sim 
 ply in laying them together and covering the roots 
 with a layer of damp earth, she ran up to the 
 house. 
 
 This was only the beginning. A few days later 
 Hope sent off orders for three one-dollar collections 
 of ever-blooming roses, addressed to as many dif 
 ferent florists. Two weeks later the plants arrived 
 by mail, carefully packed in damp moss and pro 
 tected from the journey across the continent by 
 many wrappings of paper and cotton wadding, as 
 well as wooden casings. When she opened them 
 they looked as fresh as if they had just been taken 
 from the pots. 
 
 And now it became noticeable that wherever 
 Hope went a pile of prettily illustrated pamphlets 
 was sure to be close by. In the kitchen, washing 
 dishes, kneading bread, peeling apples, overseeing 
 her cooking, darning, sewing on buttons, what 
 ever her task, an open book was always before her, 
 and tucked in her apron pocket were paper and 
 
138 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 pencil, whereon she made copious notes. The boys 
 jested her on her fits of abstraction and the ran 
 dom answers she made them, but she smiled wisely 
 back and gave no hint of the secret purpose that 
 possessed her mind. 
 
 For, little by little, yielding to the insidious in 
 fluences of the charming catalogues, Hope became 
 fixed with a wild ambition. 
 
 She wanted to get all the different kinds of 
 roses. 
 
CHAPTER XXL 
 
 HOPE S INDICTMENT. 
 
 THE boys, deep in their own plans and duties, 
 paid little attention to Hope s flowers. They knew 
 that she spent all her spare time in her own little 
 garden, and they noticed the frequent arrival of 
 packages by mail, bearing the stamp of eastern 
 florists ; but as fifty roses were packed in the same 
 compass as one, and weighed little more, and as 
 they never gave more than a careless look towards 
 her growing plantation, they had but a slight idea 
 of the extent of their sister s investment. 
 
 It all came out one evening in March. They 
 were sitting together in their cosy room, Martin 
 deep in a volume of the Encyclopaedia, Ned frown 
 ing over his account book, and Hope, as usual, 
 busy with her catalogues. She had come very 
 nearly to the end of both her money and her roses. 
 Out of the nine hundred varieties named in the 
 lists, she had now six hundred and more, and as 
 the plants had been planted at the most favorable 
 season of the year, all of them, with the exception 
 of three or four delicate varieties, were thriving 
 finely. 
 
 Her one anxiety now was to make the money 
 
140 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 she had left cover the cost of the remaining roses, 
 a very knotty problem for a young girl unused to 
 financiering, for the beautiful moss roses, and some 
 of the rarest teas and hybrids, the most costly of 
 all, were among them. 
 
 "Well, Martin," said Ned, "we ve gone away 
 beyond our calculations this time. The repairs on 
 the plough and the new seed planter made a big 
 hole in our surplus." 
 
 "We had to have them," commented Martin, 
 looking up from his book. 
 
 " Yes, and we ve got to have other things. You 
 and I have got to have new boots, or go barefooted 
 this spring. Our bran ran out to-day, and the cow 
 must be properly fed if we wish her milk to keep 
 up. It does seem as if those pea-pods never will 
 fill out this spring. Martin, we re bankrupt ! The 
 only thing for us to do is to fall back on Hope s 
 bounty." 
 
 Although Ned had placed the hundred dollars in 
 Hope s hands and wanted her to feel that she could 
 draw freely upon it, both of the boys had under 
 stood, and supposed she did, that it was in some 
 measure a trust fund, and they had confidence that 
 the little woman would handle it wisely. 
 
 Hope had dropped her pencil and paper when 
 Ned commenced to speak, and stared at him with 
 wide, anxious eyes. She stood up when he finished, 
 and both of the boys wondered at her pale, startled 
 face. 
 
 " But, Ned, you said I could have it all every 
 cent ! " 
 
HOPE S INDICTMENT. 141 
 
 " And I meant it, too, Hope," said Ned apolo 
 getically, though secretly wondering to see his gen 
 erous-hearted sister suddenly become so penurious. 
 " But you see how it is, Hope. Things cost more 
 than I reckoned they would, and a lot of extras 
 came tumbling in. I have n t but eighty-five cents 
 to my name, Hope, and we can t count on anything 
 from our peas before the middle of April. That s 
 a good four weeks off. I guess thirty dollars will 
 carry us through." 
 
 " But I have n t got it," protested Hope, horror- 
 stricken. " I have n t but eleven dollars left. I 
 I ve spent all the rest." 
 
 " Whe-e-ew ! " 
 
 Ned silenced his impetuous brother with but a 
 single look, but he knit his own brows. "Only 
 eleven dollars left ? That s rough on us, Hope. 
 I did n t know girls clothes cost so much ! But of 
 course it s all right." 
 
 He had entirely forgotten what Hope had said 
 at the time he had given the money into her keep 
 ing. 
 
 " Clothes ! Do you think I d go and spend all 
 that money for clothes ? Why, Ned, I did n t so 
 much as buy a handkerchief for myself nor a pair 
 of stockings ; and mine are darned and darned 
 until there are more darns than stocking to them." 
 
 " But what did you spend it for, Hope ? " asked 
 Ned in perplexity. 
 
 " Flowers, roses. I told you I would like to. 
 Don t you remember? Though I never thought 
 
142 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 then I didn t know there were so many, or 
 that they would cost so much to buy." 
 
 " A hundred dollars for that scrubby little lot of 
 plants down by The Brook path ! Well, I must 
 say it takes a girl to throw away a man s hard 
 earnings ! " Martin burst out angrily, and the next 
 minute most unexpectedly found himself out on 
 the front porch. 
 
 But when Ned turned to look for Hope, she had 
 disappeared. 
 
 " Poor little girl ! " he said to himself. " She 
 has toiled so hard, for more than a year and a 
 half, without any of the amusements other girls 
 of her age enjoy. Martin and I have worked to 
 gether, while she s been shut up in the house alone, 
 half the time. Small wonder she turned to flowers 
 for companionship. We ve been trying to make a 
 woman of her before her time." 
 
 He went out of doors in search of her, and some 
 instinct led him to where she stood, with her arms 
 clasping the mottled trunk of the old leaning syca 
 more, down by the roses, crying as if her heart 
 would break. Something rose in his own throat at 
 the sight. He recalled, more clearly than before, 
 the heritage of sorrow and care that had descended 
 upon her in childhood ; the sickness and death of 
 the dear young mother ; the patient manner in 
 which the delicate child had tried to share the 
 duties that had grown too heavy for the mother s 
 failing strength, and then had assumed them 
 wholly, as a sacred trust left by the dead. He re- 
 
HOPE S INDICTMENT. 143 
 
 membered the shock of their father s sudden pros 
 tration, and the manner in which she had inter 
 preted his wish that they should remain together, 
 and then found a way to carry out the promise they 
 had given him, and bravely upheld her share yes, 
 more than her share ! of their burdens. And 
 then to think that he and Martin should so wound 
 that gentle heart ! It seemed to Ned that in all 
 the world there was nothing quite so pathetic as 
 the figure of the lonely girl, sobbing out her grief 
 and pain in the shadow of the sycamore. 
 
 " There, there, little sister ! " he said, drawing 
 her arms away from the tree and making her sit 
 down with him on a great, gnarled root which 
 spread over the ground at its base. " I m so sorry 
 I said a word about the money, Hope. Of course 
 you had a right to spend it as you pleased. Don t 
 worry. We 11 get along all right." 
 
 " But it was mean in me to do it. It was selfish. 
 It was worse. I knew you did n t expect me to use 
 only just a little. It was like being a 
 thief ! " 
 
 As Hope hurled this terrible accusation at her 
 self she broke into a fresh storm of sobs. 
 
 " Listen, dear," said Ned. " How can one steal 
 their own money, Hope ? You had a perfect right 
 to it, and to more, too. Why, Hope, we ve handled 
 several hundred dollars since we first came up 
 here, and Mart and I have kept on gobbling up 
 every cent for improvements, and tools, and seed, 
 and fruit trees, and never so much as asked your 
 
144 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 approval, when I m sure you had a clear title to a 
 third of it all. We could never have saved a cent 
 of it if it had n t been for you. Just fancy Martin 
 and I up to our elbows in bread dough, or hurry 
 ing to wash the dishes so as to get out to plough, 
 or darning a pair of stockings before we pruned a 
 tree, or running in and out of the house to look 
 after our baking while we were planting, or iron 
 ing tablecloths and napkins and groaning about 
 the hoeing that needed to be done in the orchard." 
 
 Hope laughed a little at this picture, as Ned 
 meant she should, and he took advantage of the 
 moment to tack deftly about to the sore subject 
 they had both avoided. 
 
 " Now, little sister, where are your roses ? I 
 don t know of any flower I like so well. I am 
 going to get lots of comfort out of them myself. 
 You must show them to me by daylight." 
 
 " If you would really like to see them, the moon 
 light is so bright I think you could now," answered 
 Hope, quite encouraged to think that Ned was not 
 disposed to regard her treasures with the contempt 
 Martin had shown. She led the way down the 
 long rows, carefully laid out with stakes and lines, 
 as she had seen the boys plant their garden vege 
 tables. 
 
 " Here are my dark reds," she explained. " The 
 very darkest of them is the Prince Camille de Ro 
 han, and they say that it looks almost black at a 
 little distance. It is a hybrid perpetual, and a shy 
 bloomer. This row is the bright reds. I think 
 
HOPE S INDICTMENT. 145 
 
 the General Jacqueminot and the American 
 Beauty are probably the finest among them, but 
 the Queen s Scarlet must be beautiful, and the 
 Queen of Bedders is a great bloomer. There are 
 so many that they say are very handsome that it 
 is hard to choose, and I shall have to wait for 
 them to bloom before deciding. Here are the 
 pinks. I think there are more of them than of any 
 others, and the very freest bloomers are among 
 them. The La France, don t you remember 
 that beautiful pink rose the doctor has, that al 
 ways blooms in mid-winter? That s the La 
 France, and it is called by many the most beauti 
 ful of all roses. I have a nice plant right here at 
 the end, see ! And here are the Hermosa, and 
 the Bon Silene, and the Adam, and the Charles Ko- 
 volli, and the Appoline, all rosy pinks and very 
 choice, and dozens of others ! And here are the 
 blush roses. There are not many of them, and I 
 got all there are named in the catalogues. And 
 the whites ! Such beauties as some of them must 
 be, Ned. They say the Niphetos has the most 
 beautiful buds of all, long and pointed. But the 
 Bride, and the Puritan, and the white Bon Silene, 
 and the La Marque are very fine and free bloom 
 ers. Then there are lots of yellows, all the shades 
 from pale lemon to deep orange color. I put the 
 mixed salmon and pinks together. Oh, I m just 
 wild to see what the Sunset rose will be like ! But 
 the Princess Beatrice, the very choicest and most 
 beautiful of the class, I couldn t get, because it 
 
146 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 cost so much. And oh, Ned, I ve got two ever- 
 blooming moss roses, the rarest of all. There s 
 only one firm in the United States that has them 
 both." 
 
 " Why, you little rose fancier ! " laughed Ned. 
 " You ve told me more about roses than I ever 
 knew before in my life." 
 
 " Do you think they look very scrubby, Ned ? " 
 Hope asked anxiously, 
 
 " On the contrary," replied Ned, who had been 
 bending down and closely examining the plants 
 from time to tune, " I think they are remarkably 
 handsome and vigorous. Hope, what was your 
 idea in getting them ? " 
 
 Hope could have hugged her big brother, and 
 cried, all in a breath. It was so good of him to 
 think that she might have had a plan. 
 
 " Mr. Abbott said he thought somebody might 
 do well if they made a specialty of roses. He 
 thought there might be considerable profit in rais 
 ing cut flowers for the San Francisco market." 
 
 "Mr. Abbott s ideas are worth considering," 
 said Ned. " Have any of them bloomed yet, 
 Hope ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," said the little girl, as shocked as a 
 mother might be if asked whether a three-months- 
 old baby had begun to walk. " I could n t think 
 of letting them. Most of them have budded, but 
 I pinched them off. I sha n t let them bloom a bit 
 before next spring." 
 
 " That s an excellent idea. Just the way I treat 
 
HOPE S INDICTMENT. 147 
 
 my young orchard trees. Let them get plenty of 
 root and a stout growth before they go to work." 
 
 Ned was undoubtedly a very soft-hearted fellow, 
 but he registered a vow that night on his way to 
 the house, that he would send away and get the 
 Princess Beatrice, the rose Hope wanted so much 
 to add to her collection, out of the first money that 
 came in from the peas that spring. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HARD TIMES. 
 
 MARTIN took occasion to apologize to Hope, in 
 a clumsy, boyish fashion, for his angry speech, 
 so that renewed confidence and amity were es 
 tablished among the occupants of Home Ranch. 
 Cheerful as they all tried to be, however, they 
 could not disguise from each other that they had 
 a harsh ordeal before them, which it would require 
 all their pluck to meet. 
 
 " If only this warm, showery weather would 
 keep on," exclaimed Ned, one morning late in 
 March, looking out on his field of green peas, 
 which showed a perverse inclination to expend all 
 their vitality in blossoms, without attempting to 
 produce any pods, " I believe our peas would begin 
 to come on inside of ten days. We re going to 
 have a magnificent crop." 
 
 But it somehow happens that when one desires 
 most of Nature she gives least. The rains sud 
 denly ceased and were succeeded by a period of 
 unreasonably warm weather, when the hot sunshine 
 baked the earth about the tender vines before the 
 boys could get over the field with cultivator and 
 hoes. Following closely upon this there came a 
 
HARD TIMES. 149 
 
 hot " norther," a climatic freak peculiar to Cali 
 fornia, when hot, dry winds sweep down from the 
 North for three days in succession, parching tender 
 vegetation like a flame. The vines withstood the 
 fiery blast, but the young pods looked flabby and 
 wilted, and recovered only for a slow and stunted 
 growth. 
 
 Meanwhile, from sections of the State which had 
 been more favored, sacks upon sacks of green peas 
 began to reach the city in such quantities that the 
 market was soon well stocked. 
 
 From eight and ten cents a pound, prices fell to 
 seven, six, five, and three cents, and finally settled 
 down to seventy-five cents a sack, a rate at which 
 no white man could afford to pick and ship them 
 and pay commission on the sales. 
 
 " Never mind ! " said Ned bravely. " We 11 let 
 them ripen, and thrash them all out for seed." 
 
 It was well along in May when the peas were 
 sufficiently matured for this purpose, but the boys 
 set to work and beat them with a will, and after a 
 week s hard labor had twenty sacks of seed peas, 
 representing over a ton s weight. 
 
 " That 11 be eighty dollars, at least," announced 
 Martin. 
 
 " Never mind reckoning it up, Martin," replied 
 Ned. "We ll get everything out of them that 
 there is to be had. I m most anxious to see the 
 flour-bin filled, and some provisions in the pantry. 
 By the way, Hope, I never saw anything hold out 
 like that last sack of flour. It s certainly hold- 
 
150 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 ing out half as long again as any we ever had 
 before." 
 
 " Oh, that all depends on knowing just how 
 to economize, Ned," answered Hope, turning away 
 her face, over which a tell-tale blush was creeping. 
 
 " We shall have returns from the peas on Tues 
 day, only three days more," returned Ned cheer 
 fully. " I can get the check cashed here. Wil- 
 kins takes them just the same as money, you know. 
 He 11 open his eyes at the sugar and flour and 
 meal and rice and coffee and spices I m going to 
 lay in on my first order. Why, Hope, I m getting 
 sick of the sight of bread, sweet and wholesome as 
 it is. I m fairly ravenous for some of the goodies 
 you used to make when you had things to make 
 them out of." 
 
 Hope made no reply. 
 
 Neither of the boys suspected that the delicate 
 girl was deliberately reducing her own allowance 
 of food, in atonement for what she looked upon as 
 her unpardonable extravagance in the matter of 
 the roses, and in order to make their provisions 
 hold out until the money from the peas came in. 
 Since their funds had given out and they were 
 unable to buy meat, Hope had insisted upon the 
 boys eating fresh eggs twice a day, to make up for 
 the want of more hearty food, and as their stock 
 of poultry was small, the hens had all they could 
 do to meet the demands upon them. 
 
 There were potatoes, plenty of them ; but the 
 young girl, who seemed to have been endowed at 
 
HARD TIMES. 151 
 
 her birth with a frail body and a fastidious appe 
 tite, had an unaccountable distaste for this most 
 useful, healthful, and desirable of all vegetables. 
 If there had been a skilled cook at hand to dress 
 the simple food up in any of the attractive guises 
 that skilled cooks understand, it is very likely that 
 this prejudice might have been overcome, and that, 
 from relishing potatoes in their more palatable 
 forms, little Hope might have learned to like them 
 in simple ways; but as it was, not even famine 
 could drive the young girl to potatoes in their plain 
 forms, boiled, baked or mashed. Bread and butter 
 she did like, but butter was scarce, and flour cost 
 money and must be made to last. But oh! for 
 just once to sit down to all the bread and butter 
 she could eat ! 
 
 On the Tuesday that the draft was expected, Ned 
 walked into the village store with an air of confi 
 dence and cheer he had not worn for months past. 
 He asked for his mail, and while Mr. Wilkins was 
 looking over the pile of letters tucked in the pigeon 
 hole where he kept the A s, the boy spoke up : 
 
 " By the way, Mr. Wilkins, I see your team is 
 at the door. Can you send a load of goods up to 
 The Brook right away? " 
 
 Mr. Wilkins did not appear to notice this in 
 quiry. He had drawn out a postal card, with a 
 written address on one side and a printed blank on 
 the other, the conventional form used by commis 
 sion men in making reports to the farmers. It 
 was generally believed, throughout the valley, that 
 
152 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Mr. Wilkins was in the habit of reading these 
 postal cards, and more than one of the fruit-grow 
 ers, proud of their reputation as horticulturists and 
 conscious that they had made shipments a little be 
 low the average, which might bring humiliating 
 returns, had been known to hasten down to the 
 post-office at breathless speed, about the time of 
 the arrival of the train, to get their mail when 
 the bag was first opened, and before Mr. Wilkins 
 should have time to read the postals. 
 
 Instead of the usual returns, Ned saw the date 
 and signature stamped on the card, and, written 
 across the lines, in a large, clear hand, were the 
 words, not in the choicest of language : 
 
 " Peas no good. All full of weevils." 
 
 Now whether Mr. Wilkins read the postals or 
 not, if he had done so in this case his conduct 
 certainly justified the act. He leaned over the 
 counter and laid one hand on the arm of Ned, who, 
 looking dazed and troubled, was turning to leave 
 the store. 
 
 " Don t you want the things you spoke of, Aus 
 tin ? Your credit s good here. Don t forget 
 that." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Wilkins," said Ned, in a low 
 voice. " But I d rather not. Not to-day, any 
 how." 
 
 Dr. John had come in by another entrance, and 
 was standing a little way off, with a wire cheese- 
 box between him and his young neighbor. He had 
 heard the boy s light-hearted inquiry and remark, 
 
HARD TIMES. 153 
 
 then noted his sudden look of discouragement as 
 he read the postal, and becoming a willful eaves 
 dropper, it must be owned listened to the subse 
 quent dialogue. 
 
 The doctor instantly decided that there was 
 trouble at Home Ranch. After Ned had taken his 
 leave, Dr. John interrogated Mr. Wilkins, and 
 found that gentleman only too ready to talk. 
 
 " It s my opinion them young friends of yours 
 are living on air ! " frankly declared the grocer. 
 " What else they got to live on ? Only one sack 
 of flour since the first of January ; no sugar, no 
 oatmeal, no coffee ; and the butcher says he haint 
 sold them a pound of meat since March." 
 
 Dr. John jumped into his buggy and drove furi 
 ously towards home. Where had his own eyes 
 been ? What had he been thinking of, that he 
 should have been so blind to the happenings at 
 Home Ranch ? He believed it was because there 
 had been so many babies that spring, and the last 
 year s babies were all teething. He would lose no 
 time now in learning the true state of affairs. 
 
 He drove directly to the stable and put up his 
 horse, and was walking rapidly off in the direction 
 of The Brook, when Wing s sharp eye espied him. 
 
 " Missee Docta ! " 
 
 "Well, Wing?" 
 
 " Somebody wantee see you. Littee lady in 
 housee." 
 
 Dr. John felt almost aggrieved at the news. He 
 had made his daily round of calls all over the conn- 
 
154 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 try, and wanted a little time to himself. If people 
 would only observe some method about getting 
 sick! Who could the " littee lady " be? Mani 
 festly some one who had come on foot, for there 
 was no horse at the gate or at the carriage steps 
 before the front door. 
 
 It was Hope. The busy little housewife so rarely 
 found time to leave home, and was so very timid 
 about crossing the hanging bridge, that Dr. John 
 was surprised to see her. How tall and slight she 
 seemed to have grown in the last few weeks ! And 
 how pale she was, with just a little nervous flush in 
 each cheek. That color was not natural ; he must 
 look into it afterwards ; but first to learn her er 
 rand, which she was evidently restless to discharge. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, Miss Hope," he said 
 gravely. " What can I do for you to-day ? " 
 
 "Dr. John, do you think you could lend me 
 twenty dollars, and take this and keep it until I 
 can pay you back? " 
 
 She held out a little package wrapped in tissue 
 paper, and, removing the wrappings, brought to 
 view a small open-faced silver watch, which had 
 belonged to her mother. 
 
 " Is it worth enough ? I am afraid it is very 
 old-fashioned," she said. 
 
 The doctor took it and examined it critically, 
 opening the case and looking closely at the works. 
 
 " It is a very nice little watch," he said. " I 
 would not hesitate to lend any one twice twenty 
 dollars upon it." 
 
HARD TIMES. 155 
 
 Does the Recording Angel take account of such 
 generous equivocations ? If he does, Dr. John will 
 some day have a heavy score to meet. 
 
 " Then could you please lend me twenty-five dol 
 lars ? " asked Hope eagerly. " Because, if you can, 
 I d like it right now, doctor, so I can get down 
 to the store before " 
 
 As suddenly as the color came it faded, and she 
 slipped down, white and senseless, at the doctor s 
 feet. 
 
 " My God, she is starving ! " cried the doctor, 
 gathering her in his arms ah, how light the bur 
 den ! and laying her on the sofa. 
 
 He touched an electric button and Ah Wing 
 appeared, just as Dr. John had removed the little 
 straw hat and pushed back the waving brown hair 
 from the white forehead, laying a wet cloth across 
 it and sprinkling a little water on her face. 
 
 " Gottee clottee blood on blain. You bleed him, 
 he all light," volunteered Ah Wing, who looked 
 upon these proceedings with undisguised disfavor. 
 
 Ah Wing liked the doctor very well as a man, 
 but he openly disapproved of him as a physician. 
 
 "Wing," said Dr. John, " get me a cup of strong 
 coffee and a slice of buttered toast, as quick as you 
 can." 
 
 " You bleed him ! Coffee toast no make him 
 well," insisted Ah Wing obstinately. 
 
 " Get out of here and do what I tell you, you 
 rascal! " growled the doctor, and Wing, who knew 
 very well the point at which he must draw a line 
 
156 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 in offering professional advice to his master, beat 
 a hasty retreat. 
 
 Hope opened her eyes and looked about her a 
 moment in bewilderment. Then she tried to sit 
 up. 
 
 " I don t know what came over me, doctor. I 
 never felt that way before. I must be going. 
 It s late, and the store will be closed ; and 
 there s the baking to do and dinner " 
 
 " Hush ! " commanded the doctor, so gently and 
 yet with such decision that Hope dared not dis 
 obey. 
 
 It was so pleasant just to lie still in the comfort 
 able, sunny room ; and when Wing came with the 
 cup of fragrant coffee and the great slice of golden- 
 brown toast, and a little jelly that he had added 
 of his own accord, she sat up and ate quite obedi 
 ently, and wondered to feel so refreshed. That 
 horrible, gnawing sensation she had suffered all 
 day long was entirely gone. 
 
 But when she had finished eating, and Wing had 
 carried off the tray, Dr. John came up to her, and 
 there was lightning in his eye. 
 
 " Hope," he said shortly, " why did n t you tell 
 me you had n t enough to eat ? " 
 
 " Oh, doctor ! " she cried, " don t tell the boys ! " 
 
 She burst into tears like a detected criminal. 
 
 " They had enough. Indeed they had enough," 
 she explained, after she had rallied. " It was only 
 me. I did n t work hard like them. I could ktand 
 it better. And, besides, Dr. John, you don t know. 
 
HARD TIMES. 157 
 
 You don t understand how it came about. It was 
 my fault. I used up the money." 
 
 And forthwith Hope told the whole story of her 
 embezzlement. 
 
 The most she hoped was that Dr. John would 
 say she had done all she could to atone for her 
 fault. Instead, he smiled pleasantly upon her. 
 
 " I am like Ned," he said. " I am interested in 
 the roses." 
 
 Hope went back home, and the doctor went to 
 the grocer s ; but he took with him an order, made 
 out and signed by the young girl, and Ned paid for 
 the goods upon their arrival at the banks of The 
 Brook, so that the young people s dignity was not 
 compromised ; but before Hope left Dr. John s 
 house, he made her promise that she would never 
 again allow matters on Home Ranch to come to 
 such a pass without telling him. 
 
 " It would grieve me very sorely to think that 
 you had not sufficient confidence in me for that," 
 he said, looking sadly at her. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE SECOND SEASON. 
 
 THE second summer, by tacit consent, Hope took 
 her place as a co-worker with her brothers, in all 
 that a quick, active girl was capable of doing, and 
 from this date on the indoor and outdoor work of 
 Home Ranch progressed in a manner quite satis 
 factory to them all. 
 
 They had many bothers that they would not 
 have had if they had been grown people, and yet 
 as a rule they managed to set them aside as only 
 children can. Grown people the best of them 
 are slaves to many customs and conventionalities 
 that young people are not afraid to defy. So it 
 came about that on days when the boys were glad 
 to have Hope s help out of doors, they did not hesi 
 tate to help a little with the housework, and they 
 took pains to dispense with everything that made 
 unnecessary work. 
 
 In her housework Hope actually made a study 
 of doing things in the shortest possible ways, which 
 everybody knows no really proper housewife would 
 ever tolerate. She had an old-fashioned cook-book, 
 written and published years before, but still much 
 after the style of modern cook-books, whose ruling 
 
THE SECOND SEASON. 159 
 
 purpose seems to be to show what elaborate dishes 
 can be elaborately wrought from simple materials. 
 Hope was obliged to consult this book, because she 
 did not know how to cook many things, and it was 
 all the authority she had ; but she had an iniqui 
 tous way of circumventing its recipes. 
 
 " Six eggs, yolks and whites beaten separately, 
 for half an hour, with a wire whisk. What an 
 absurd idea ! When you can beat them, and beat 
 them, and beat them, and they will never get a 
 particle lighter after the first five minutes. Add 
 two cupful s of sugar rubbed smooth with one cup 
 ful of butter. No, you don t ! I know very well 
 that it will taste just the same if the butter is 
 melted, and melted right in the baking pan, so that 
 will be greased at the same time. Have n t I tried 
 it over and over again ? A cupful of milk, and 
 two teaspoonfuls of baking powder. I shall put 
 everything together and beat them up, with the 
 flour and baking powder added at the last. Five 
 minutes beating will do just as well as an hour." 
 
 This was a specimen of the contests Hope waged 
 with the cook-book, and it must be acknowledged 
 that she generally came off victorious. 
 
 The house was clean, and well aired, and reason 
 ably tidy, and homelike. The dishes were always 
 clean and shining. The simple meals were well 
 cooked and daintily served, and flavored with cheer 
 and a sweet temper ; and altogether they were 
 about as comfortable as ever were three young 
 people flung on their own resources. 
 
160 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 It so happened that this was a season of heavy 
 crops in all parts of the State. If they had pos 
 sessed a sufficient acreage in bearing fruits, they 
 would have still secured an excellent income, even 
 with the low prices that ruled the market. A few 
 boxes of early cherries sold at an excellent rate, 
 but when they found that apricots and peaches 
 were quoted at but twenty to thirty dollars a ton 
 for the finest qualities, they were discouraged. 
 
 " It does n t look as if they would pay for the 
 picking," confessed Ned, in reply to an inquiry 
 from Dr. John. " When we come to pay freight, 
 and cartage, and commission, and reckon on boxes 
 being lost or unsold, for I hear they find it hard 
 to sell all the fruit that comes in some days of the 
 week, and ours is by no means the first quality, 
 why, you can see for yourself, Dr. John, it does n t 
 leave any margin." 
 
 " Dry them." 
 
 " But we have no evaporator, no machine of any 
 kind." 
 
 " You need none. In other parts of the world, 
 where rain comes at any or all seasons, it is very 
 necessary to resort to artificial methods. Here, 
 where we are sure of dry, sunny weather through 
 out the season, there is no necessity for such ma 
 chines. The markets of the world cannot produce 
 anything to excel our sun-dried California fruits. 
 I am not quite sure that I approve of the sulphur 
 ing process ; but it not only improves the appear 
 ance of the fruit, it is the only process known that 
 
THE SECOND SEASON. 161 
 
 effectually protects it from the attacks of insects 
 after it is cured. We have never had an instance 
 of any one being harmed by eating it, and I think, 
 on the whole, I prefer to take my chances on the 
 sulphured fruit, rather than to run the risk of diet 
 ing on worms." 
 
 Acting on the doctor s advice, the boys procured 
 several bunches of laths and made some fifty trays, 
 three by four feet in dimensions. Upon these they 
 spread their apricots, after first halving and ston 
 ing them by one quick pressure of a knife-blade. 
 
 A year later they bought a little machine, oper 
 ated by hand, which did this work in half the time 
 it could be accomplished with a knife ; but this 
 year time was plentiful and money scarce with 
 them, and they had to be content with the old- 
 fashioned method. They then placed the trays, in 
 piles of three, upon the ground, and covered them 
 with a tight, box-shaped frame, with a bit of sul 
 phur burning in a hollow on the ground beneath. 
 After twenty minutes subjection to the fumes, they 
 uncovered the trays and spread them out upon the 
 ground in a sunny spot south of the house, where 
 the fruit cured perfectly in three days, and only 
 needed to be heaped up a day and a night, covered 
 with gunny-sacking, to go through what was called 
 the " sweating process," which had the effect of 
 evenly distributing what little moisture was left in 
 it. After this they tied it up in sacks of plain, 
 unbleached muslin. Their peaches they dried in 
 the same manner, first peeling them by plunging 
 them into a quick bath of scalding lye. 
 
162 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Although this was only the second year s growth 
 of their young orchard, the adventurous little 
 French prunes and the almonds came bravely into 
 bloom, and the former yielded nearly six hundred 
 pounds of fruit. These they dried without stoning, 
 merely giving them a quick dip in the lye they 
 used for peeling the peaches, and another dip into 
 cold water, the object being to cut the skins slightly 
 and hasten the process of drying, thus improving 
 both the appearance and the flavor of the fruit. 
 They found that whereas all of the other fruit lost 
 from four-fifths to six-sevenths of its weight in cur 
 ing, the French prunes did not lose more than half, 
 and the three hundred pounds of dried fruit con 
 tributed by the young orchard formed a welcome 
 addition to their season s crop. 
 
 When they came to market it, the entire yield 
 did not bring them any extravagant sum, but it 
 represented a very fair price for the fruit in its 
 fresh state, which they could not have secured that 
 year in any other manner, and they felt that there 
 after they should know what to do in a dull season. 
 
 The almonds and walnuts in the old orchard 
 helped to swell the season s product, the steady 
 yield of these trees under good treatment, as well 
 as the long age to which they live, being qualities 
 that have brought them into wide popularity. The 
 new orchard yielded only a few handfuls of alm 
 onds, and these they took for their own use. 
 
 From the vineyard they expected nothing until 
 the third year, knowing that a conservative grape- 
 
THE SECOND SEASON. 163 
 
 vine takes that space of time to muster its powers 
 of bearing. 
 
 They had cultivated the vines faithfully, keeping 
 them free from weeds, and pruned them back, after 
 the conservative plan everywhere practiced with 
 such success. This consisted in keeping the first 
 growth of the vines free from canes, to a height of 
 some ten inches above the ground, so as to form a 
 stout little trunk, then cutting back the abundant 
 growth so as to leave but two or three buds on each 
 branch. Whenever a cane grew in a downward 
 direction or across the path of another, or wherever 
 there were superfluous canes, they were carefully 
 cut away ; but late in the spring they were left 
 alone for the season. 
 
 Probably no one would have gone near the vine 
 yard again, that season, had it not been for the 
 coyotes. 
 
 One night about the middle of September they 
 were awakened by the sound of a light rain falling, 
 an unusual occurrence at that season of the year. 
 At the same time they heard a loud noise from the 
 direction of the chicken house, as of some poor 
 hen in mortal agony. 
 
 Dressing themselves hastily they found one of 
 their finest fowls down upon the ground, cackling 
 desperately, with one wing drooping and a large 
 patch of feathers gone from the injured side. 
 
 " I know just how it was ! " cried Martin in ex 
 citement. " She was at the end of the roof, next 
 to the lattice work, when I shut them up. That 
 
164 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 thing or those things, whatever they are, that have 
 been catching the chickens lately, tried to snatch 
 her." 
 
 "You stay here," said Ned, "while I get the 
 lantern. It s just rained enough to moisten the 
 top of the ground, so as to show the creature s 
 tracks. We 11 find out what it is and where it s 
 gone." 
 
 But when the lantern was brought, and the boys 
 found a track like a large dog s, with the print of 
 four toes plainly marked, they were no nearer the 
 solution than ever. 
 
 " Let us see which way it went, anyhow." pro 
 posed Martin, catching up the lantern and begin 
 ning to examine the ground. 
 
 They traced the animal up past the spring, 
 across towards the vineyard, and finally lost the 
 track among the vines. Bending down to search 
 among the trailing canes, Ned found something 
 else. 
 
 " Upon my word, Martin, here are grapes ! " 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Martin. " Can t be. Grapes 
 never come into bearing until the third year. The 
 Encyclopedia says so." 
 
 " Can t help it. Look for yourself. Here are 
 some more and here and here ! I can feel 
 them where I can t see them." 
 
 Martin looked and was convinced. Here, there, 
 and everywhere were grapes. It was a very light 
 crop, it is true, and the bunches were none of them 
 of the great size produced by older vines, but what 
 
THE SECOND SEASON. 165 
 
 they lacked collectively, they made up individually, 
 for the single grapes were of unusual size, although 
 there were few bunches that would have weighed 
 more than half a pound. 
 
 Early next morning they all went up to the 
 vineyard. The little sprinkle of rain was over, 
 and the day bright and cloudless. 
 
 It seemed really surprising that none of them, 
 in passing, had noticed the green and amber 
 bunches hanging amid the clustering leaves. What 
 delight it was to gather them, snipping off the 
 stems with sharp-pointed scissors, laying them 
 warily in the baskets, and even more cautiously 
 into the boxes, that the delicate bloom which 
 makes the beauty of the grape might not be rubbed 
 off. 
 
 The young fruit growers were quite exultant over 
 the wonderful yield of their two-year-old vineyard, 
 and anxious to share their experiences with some 
 one else who would publish the news abroad. It 
 so happened that Dr. John, called to a considerable 
 distance by an urgent summons, did not come over, 
 after his usual custom. Instead, Mike McCrary 
 lounged lazily down the trail, accompanied by two 
 dogs, and with his gun upon his shoulder. 
 
 " Look here, will you, Mike ! " called Martin, 
 as the visitor approached. " You know when we 
 came up here ; just two years ago this fall. Well, 
 sir, we set out these vines the spring after that, 
 and see what we re taking off them now ! " 
 
 " Pretty good show ! " said Mike, helping him- 
 
166 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 self to a bunch, but failing entirely in the enthusi 
 asm Martin had expected from him. " Heap of 
 work to put em in, and a pile of work to pick 
 em ! " 
 
 "There isn t much of anything worth having 
 that does n t demand work, I take it," said Ned, 
 gravely. 
 
 In spite of themselves, both of the boys could 
 not help liking this good-natured, improvident 
 young fellow ; but Ned never let a chance go by to 
 score a point against his way of life. 
 
 Mike made no reply. Apparently he was not 
 listening at all, but was watching his dogs, which 
 ran hither and thither, their noses close to the 
 ground, now and then lifting their heads to give 
 an expressive bark and look at their master or 
 which was the master ? In this case Mike promptly 
 acknowledged his subjection. 
 
 " What s the matter, Bose ? What s up, Fanny ? 
 They smell some wild thing," he explained. " Most 
 likely a jack rabbit or a squirrel." 
 
 " Perhaps it s the creature that s been carrying 
 off our chickens. It ran off through the vineyard, 
 last night." 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed Mike, his interest at once 
 awakened. " You seen it ? " 
 
 " No," said Ned, " but we found its tracks." 
 
 " W 7 here be they ? " demanded Mike in excite 
 ment, starting up at once. " Just let me see them ! " 
 
 " Right over here is one," said Martin, leading 
 the way to a place he had protected with tall 
 sticks, to keep it from being tramped over. 
 
THE SECOND SEASON. 167 
 
 " Coyote ! " pronounced Mike with the air of an 
 oracle, after examining the track. "Didn t you 
 get a pop at it ? " 
 
 " We have no gun," said Martin. 
 
 "Whew! That s too bad," declared the Mc- 
 Crary, with undisguised compassion. " I d loan 
 you mine, I vum, but how d I git along without it, 
 say?" 
 
 " Oh, we ve got the chickens protected now so 
 that they re in no danger," replied Ned. " We 
 have n t time to go hunting, Mike." 
 
 " Then I 11 loan you my traps," proposed the 
 free-hearted fellow, rather proud, for once, to have 
 something to lend, for two years living in close 
 proximity had developed a very neighborly spirit 
 on the part of the McCrarys. 
 
 "I ll be very glad to have them," said Ned, 
 frankly. " Now, Mike, as you have dropped in 
 this afternoon, I have a proposition to make to you. 
 There, Martin, that s the last of the fruit. I m 
 going to leave you and Hope to get it boxed up, 
 while I go up the hill a ways with Mike." 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A PROJECT AND AN ADVENTURE. 
 
 WONDERING greatly, Mike followed Ned up the 
 steep trail until they reached a point where it com 
 manded a view of the entire hillside. 
 
 " This is the north side of the hill," began Ned, 
 " and for two or three hundred yards along here, 
 with the exception of one place, it s all a deep, 
 soft soil. Now suppose, instead of following this 
 steep trail and getting to the top all in a breath 
 and all out of breath, we should cut a road, at an 
 easy grade, along the hill there, and then returning 
 back this way, then taking another turn back there, 
 and then on, over that little knoll, till we reach the 
 thick timber on your quarter-section. It ll be 
 tough work to do it, but it s practicable. 
 
 "Now what I ve been thinking is this. You 
 want a road out of your place, and we want a way 
 out of ours. To connect with the county road from 
 your place will be a much longer stretch than this, 
 but not so hard, because there are only trees and 
 stones in the way. You take hold and help us 
 with this, and we 11 take hold and help you with 
 that. What do you say ? " 
 
 "I don t know," drawled Mike, very con- 
 
A PROJECT AND AN ADVENTURE. 169 
 
 servative, as indolent people always are, about com 
 mitting himself to any scheme that involved physi 
 cal exertion. " I m not sure ef it can be did. 
 How you goin to git round that ledge of rock 
 that sticks out yonder ? " 
 
 " Go through it," replied Ned readily. " Giant 
 powder will do the work in no time. I was talk 
 ing with Dr. John about it yesterday." 
 
 " What d he think about the whole concern ? " 
 demanded Mike cautiously. 
 
 " He said it could be done. But shall I tell 
 you exactly what he said ? " concluded Ned, des 
 perately. 
 
 "Ye-es. Why not?" 
 
 " Well, he said I d never get any of the Mc- 
 Crarys to take hold with me. He said you, Mike, 
 would lounge around the hills all day with your 
 gun, or sit up and watch a rat-hole all night, but 
 that you d bolt into the next county at the mention 
 of honest work." 
 
 Mike s face reddened through its stippling of 
 freckles. 
 
 "He said that, did he?" he observed slowly. 
 "Dr. John said that? Well, I d jest like to 
 knock the doctor out on that statement of his, an 
 when you git ready to make the road, jest you let 
 me know." % 
 
 When the young people came to cast up their 
 accounts that fall, they could not help regarding it 
 as a fairly prosperous year, but it must be con 
 fessed that it had had its drawbacks. Life, even 
 
170 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 on a California ranch, is not all composed of red- 
 letter days, and a series of calamities may cast 
 shadows over the sunniest hours. 
 
 They had established a colony of cats upon the 
 ranch, for the sole purpose of exterminating the 
 gophers that troubled them, but the latter had 
 nevertheless destroyed the finest of their old fig- 
 trees, while the cats had ravaged birds nests that 
 Hope had discovered in the spring, and watched 
 with tender interest. The worst of it was that 
 Grimalkin made no distinctions in the bird family, 
 except in favor of the most tender and luscious 
 morsels, and seized upon the young birds whenever 
 she found them plump and juicy, and with not too 
 many feathers to impede feline digestion. So it 
 came to pass that the wrens that built on the 
 kitchen roof, the robins that built in the walnut 
 tree, the swallows that built under the smoke 
 house eaves, the meadow lark whose nest they had 
 found on the ground in the vineyard, three nests 
 of goldfinches in the peach trees, as well as the 
 woodpeckers in the hollow sycamore down by the 
 brook, all mourned the loss of their offspring, 
 while the linnets, yellow-hammers and blue-jays, 
 most mischievous and destructive of fruit-eating 
 and nut-boring birds, raised their young families 
 in comparative security. 
 
 They also mourned the loss of some of their 
 finest poultry, but the handsome skins of two co 
 yotes, tanning by a simple process studied up by 
 the boys, bore witness to the efficacy of Mike 
 McCrary s traps. 
 
A PBOJECT AND AN ADVENTURE. 171 
 
 The few small bunches of grapes found on the 
 Sultana vines, and the straggling remnant left on 
 the Muscat after the finer ones had been marketed, 
 the young ranchers decided to convert into raisins, 
 and the Encyclopaedia taught them how to cure 
 these. 
 
 They found that to produce a good raisin it was 
 necessary to let the grapes remain on the vines un 
 til they became a rich amber, tinged with brown, 
 showing that the full measure of saccharine matter 
 had found its way into the fruit. To satisfy them 
 selves of the best method of curing, they tried 
 various experiments. They twisted some of the 
 stems, and cut others half-way through with a pen 
 knife, and left them to cure upon the vines. Some 
 they cut off and laid upon the ground between the 
 vines. Others they hung along cords stretched 
 between the orchard trees. A few were dipped in 
 a weak solution of lye and laid with others, in the 
 natural state, upon the fruit-trays in the sun. 
 
 Half of the grapes left hanging on the vines and 
 spread out upon the ground were destroyed by bees 
 and hornets, the latter especially proving most vo 
 racious pests, attacking whole bunches and leaving 
 nothing but withered stems and hollow skins. 
 The grapes that were dipped in lye resisted the 
 attacks of insects, but the lye seemed to impart to 
 them a peculiar, candied consistency, which changed 
 the character of the raisin and detracted from its 
 flavor. The bunches hung upon lines, and the 
 grapes spread upon the trays made smaller raisins 
 
172 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 than those cured upon the ground, but as they had 
 been easily protected by mosquito bar from the 
 ravages of insects, these were voted the most prac 
 ticable processes to be used in the future. 
 
 The young people observed that the " clothesline 
 raisins," as they dubbed those on the lines, cured 
 in less than two-thirds the time required by the 
 others, a very important advantage, in view of the 
 danger of rain during the raisin-curing season. 
 
 The California vine - grower and raisin - curer 
 watches sky and clouds, during late October, with 
 as great anxiety and apprehension as ever a New 
 England farmer feels during the haying season. 
 
 The part that the Encyclopedia played in life 
 at Home Ranch had its humorous as well as its 
 serious side. They consulted it on every imagina 
 ble occasion. Birds and wild flowers were identi 
 fied by means of it. When caterpillars attacked 
 the trees, and slugs made a raid upon the roses, 
 and galls appeared upon the fruit-tree leaves, and 
 ants swarmed around the drying-trays, the Ency 
 clopaedia taught them the remedies. Hope learned 
 from it a trick of making butter come with five 
 minutes churning, on the warm days when butter 
 did not want to come at all. The boys learned 
 how to graft and bud the fruit-trees successfully, 
 through its illustrated descriptions. In short, it 
 offered generous help in every department of their 
 labor, and one night it averted a most grievous 
 calamity. 
 
A PROJECT AND AN ADVENTURE. 173 
 
 That evening Ned had occasion to visit the shed 
 in the corral, where their hay was stored, and re 
 turned in great excitement. 
 
 " Martin ! Hope ! " he called, running back to 
 wards the house. "Just come over here. I ve 
 found the prettiest little squirrel you ever saw. 
 It s striped like a zebra, with black and gold. 
 And it s quite tame. I almost stepped on it be 
 fore I saw it." 
 
 Brother and sister hastened out to join him. 
 
 " I m so glad ! " panted Hope. " I ve always 
 wanted a tame squirrel. Always, Ned ! And you 11 
 make a cage for it, won t you, Martin ? " 
 
 " Indeed I will," promised Martin ; " and one 
 of those turning things to go in it. It will be a 
 nice pet for you, Hope. I 11 teach him tricks. 
 Odd about his being so tame, is n t it, Ned ? He 
 could n t have got away from anybody and found 
 his way here ? " 
 
 " I saw him right here, first," explained Ned, 
 for they had come up to the hay-shed. " Had my 
 hands full and couldn t pick him up then. He 
 went right over there ; almost rubbed against my 
 boot as he passed." 
 
 " There he is now. Oh, is n t he a beauty ! " 
 exclaimed Martin. 
 
 For there, moving slowly around the base of the 
 haystack, was a slender, graceful little animal, 
 with a long pointed nose, bright dark eyes, and an 
 arched back, over which curved an extraordinarily 
 long, bushy tail. Its hair was so long and fine 
 
174 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 that it looked like a great bunch of thistledown. 
 A black stripe ran down its back, and its sides 
 were dappled with black and amber. 
 
 " The dear little thing ! I do believe I can 
 catch it with my hands. It does n t look as if it 
 would bite one bit." 
 
 "It might, Hope. Better keep on the safe 
 side. I 11 throw this sack over it. That s the 
 best way," said Ned, picking up an empty gunny- 
 sack and stealthily advancing upon the pretty crea 
 ture, while Martin crept behind him, holding up 
 the lantern to guide his way. 
 
 " Oh, boys, stop ! Don t go a step nearer ! I 
 just happened to think but I ve always heard 
 they looked like cats and were black and white. 
 Just wait a minute till I get the Encyclopaedia and 
 see if they do have bushy tails. Only think how 
 awful it would be if it should be a ." 
 
 She mentioned the name of a puny little animal 
 held in terror by stalwart men and brave women. 
 At the mere suggestion Ned and Martin showed 
 the white feather and beat an inglorious retreat, 
 tumbling over various implements in their way. 
 
 Hope was already half-way to the house. In a 
 few moments she reappeared, carrying a large vol 
 ume which bore upon the back the inscription : 
 SHO-TRO. 
 
 She knelt down on the earth and turned the 
 leaves with nervous fingers, while Martin looked 
 eagerly over her shoulder, and Ned held the lan 
 tern so that its rays would fall upon the book. 
 
A PEOJECT AND AN ADVENTURE. 175 
 
 " Here it is," she said. " Hold the light a little 
 higher, Ned : Pointed nose slender and elon 
 gated body and a long, bushy tail. 9 Oh, it is, it is ! 
 4 Walks with back much arched, and the tail erect 
 or curved forward over the body? That s just the 
 way it looked. c Weak, timid, and slow in its move 
 ments.^ But no. It can t be, either. This says 
 it is black and white. . . . Oh, here it is : 4 Said 
 to be phosphorescent by night? 
 
 " Let us get away from here," said Martin, look 
 ing nervously about him. " How do we know 
 where fasti Mephitis Mephitica is prowling now? " 
 
 Laughing merrily, they scampered towards the 
 house. On the doorstep Ned pretended to make a 
 critical examination of the fastenings of the door. 
 
 " We must double-lock everything to-night," he 
 declared. " But oh, Hope, to think that you were 
 going to adopt for a pet to catch in your own 
 hands and Martin was going to make a cage for 
 it and teach tricks to a a " 
 
 " Sh ! " said Martin. " Call it by its classical 
 name : Mephitis Mepkitica." 
 
CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 A PREMATURE BLAST. 
 
 Ned and Martin and Mike and his 
 brother Sain had worked for a couple of weeks on 
 the new road, there was not one of them that could 
 have been weaned from the project. Even Sam, 
 who had at first only been held to the task by 
 Mike s covert threats, began to look upon the work 
 he had already done as an investment he could not 
 afford to lose. 
 
 By the end of a month they had made grand 
 headway, having reached the projecting ledge be 
 yond which there remained but a few rods more to 
 complete the road up the steep hill. 
 
 " I don t see why we must wait for Dr. John to 
 get rid of this big rock. The blasting powder s 
 here, and the drills are here, and all we need is to 
 make some holes and put in the powder," said 
 Mike, as they prepared to go around the ledge -and 
 begin work on the other side. 
 
 " But you know we don t understand such things, 
 Mike, and there are always accidents occurring in 
 just such ways. I think it s very good of Dr. 
 John to care, and we certainly owe it to him to 
 wait, when he has furnished the powder and the 
 drills." 
 
A PREMATURE BLAST. 177 
 
 " Why can t we make the holes with the drills ? " 
 urged Mike. " That 11 be so much ready when 
 the doctor conies." 
 
 Ned readily assented to this scheme, but when 
 the boys had spent half a day at this most diffi 
 cult labor, without sinking a foot into the hard 
 rock, they were well-nigh discouraged. Mike made 
 a circuit of the ledge and finally climbed on top of 
 it, and in a little time his good-natured face peered 
 over at the boys. 
 
 " Say, Ned ! Just you go down and ask Dr. John 
 when he 11 come up. His buggy s comin along 
 the road from the station now. Tell him we re 
 clean used up, and you re afraid we 11 throw up 
 the whole thins:. " 
 
 O 
 
 Mike waited until he was well out of sight, then 
 beckoned to the younger boys. 
 
 " Come along with you, will you, an see what 
 I Ve found." 
 
 Martin and Sam at once guessed that some im 
 portant scheme was on hand, and clambered over 
 the ledge in great haste. They found Mike stand 
 ing over a fissure, which ran completely across the 
 ledge, near its junction with the hill. In the cen 
 tre of this a wide crevice could be seen, extending 
 down into the heart of the rock. 
 
 " Now what s the use of pegging away with thim 
 things," demanded Mike, pointing contemptuously 
 in the direction of the abandoned drills, " whin this 
 big crack s here, riddy to our hand ? All we ve 
 got to do is, ram the stuff down in here an touch 
 
178 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 it off, an this whole rock 11 go rollin down the 
 hill like a ball of cotton." 
 
 " But are you sure you know how, Mike ? Have 
 you ever done it before ? " asked Martin, his boy s 
 love of adventure struggling against a sense of 
 obligation to Ned and the doctor. 
 
 " Coorse I have. Did n t I stand round day 
 after day when they were workin on the Mission 
 road, an blastin rock by the hunderd ton ? An 
 help em, too ; I tell you I m up to the whole thing. 
 So come on ! " 
 
 Mike was quite willing to stretch the truth a 
 little, lest he lose prestige with his followers, and 
 he related several exciting anecdotes of experience 
 as he led the way up the hill to the place where 
 the explosives had been stored. By the time they 
 reached there, Martin s misgivings were silenced, 
 and he was disposed to regard Mike as quite a 
 smart fellow after all : much more enterprising 
 than his brother Ned. 
 
 But Mike, who had a little superficial knowledge 
 of the use of gunpowder in such cases, had no con 
 ception of the dangerous nature of the explosive 
 with which he had to deal. He had some con 
 science, however, for when he had carried it to the 
 top of the ledge, he ordered the younger boys to 
 stand at a respectful distance, while he faced the 
 risks of his mad prank alone. 
 
 A feeling of anxiety gained upon Ned, as he 
 crossed the bridge and walked up through the doc 
 tor s grounds. 
 
A PREMATURE BLAST. 179 
 
 Dr. John was in the stable, putting up his horse. 
 Ned could hear him speaking kindly to the animal 
 as he secured her in her stall. 
 
 " Dr. John ! " called Ned. 
 
 The doctor came instantly out of the stable. 
 
 " Oh, it s you, Ned. Well, what can I do for 
 you?" 
 
 " When can you come over to attend to that 
 blasting ? I wish you d come now. I m afraid 
 I can t help thinking the boys mean to do some 
 thing while I m away." 
 
 " Why, what can they do ? They can t run away 
 with the road, can they? " asked the doctor good- 
 naturedly. 
 
 " No, sir. But the blasting powder " 
 
 " The blasting powder ! Did that stupid fellow 
 who brought it here carry it across The Brook ? " 
 
 The doctor was at once aroused. 
 
 " Yes, sir. And we carried it up the hill, so as 
 to have it handy." 
 
 " Oh, that is bad, bad ! " said the doctor, has 
 tening at once in the direction of The Brook. 
 "And with such a fellow about as that Mike 
 McCrary ! " 
 
 Dr. John and Ned ran across the hanging bridge 
 and up towards the hill, their apprehension grow 
 ing with every moment. 
 
 Before they reached the old trail there came a 
 deafening roar. An immense mass of rock shot 
 up into the air, and then seemed to separate and 
 rain down in fragments. 
 
180 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Out of the smoke-like cloud of dust that for a 
 moment enveloped the hillside a figure appeared, 
 running swiftly down the road. It was Martin, 
 covered with dirt, and hatless, the blood flowing 
 down one side of his face, where his cheek had been 
 laid bare by a flying fragment of rock. 
 
 " I m all right," he cried breathlessly. " But 
 hurry to the other boys ! I m afraid they re killed. 
 They re making an awful noise." 
 
 By this time they could hear a succession of 
 blood-curdling yells, with now and then a low groan 
 like a basso profundo accompaniment. 
 
 Ned ran in the direction of the shrieks ; the 
 doctor, with true professional instinct, hastened in 
 the direction of the more quiet sufferer. From be 
 neath the projecting shelter of a great boulder Ned 
 hauled Sam McCrary, kicking and screaming, and 
 blanched with fright, but wholly unhurt. 
 
 Dr. John s case was more serious. Mike Mc 
 Crary was lying on his back, where he had evi 
 dently been flung by the force of the explosion, the 
 blood trickling over his forehead from an ugly 
 scalp wound, his hands badly torn, and one leg pin 
 ioned beneath a heavy stone. Dr. John and Ned 
 lifted this off by their united strength, and then 
 the doctor made a hasty examination. 
 
 " A pretty badly mangled leg, and an ugly cut in 
 the head," he announced. " He 11 be a very sick 
 fellow before he gets up from this. How to get 
 him home is one problem, and how to get him well 
 in a home like that is another and a harder one." 
 
A PREMATURE BLAST. 181 
 
 The doctor was thinking aloud, but the right 
 solution of the difficulty at once flashed across Ned. 
 Mike ought not be jarred or carried any further 
 than possible. Yet how could they stand it, to 
 take this great, coarse, dirty fellow into their neat 
 little home ? 
 
 Of course the Good Samaritan would not have 
 hesitated; but then the Good Samaritan helped 
 people by the wayside ; he did n t take them to his 
 home. 
 
 " Dr. John," said Ned quietly, " we will carry 
 him down to our house." 
 
 " Very well," said the doctor just as quietly, 
 never hinting that he had divined the struggle 
 through which the boy had been passing. 
 
 They brought up the drag the boys used on the 
 place, and with great difficulty got Mike down to the 
 cottage, where he was laid on the boys own bed. 
 
 For a couple of weeks Mike had a high fever 
 and required constant attention, but when he grew 
 better he seemed to fret so much over the failure 
 of their project and his own helplessness, that the 
 boys returned to their work upon the road, and 
 were joined by Sam, who was very much subdued, 
 and showed himself amenable to orders from that 
 time forth. 
 
 The accident had occurred about the middle of 
 October, and by the middle of November they had 
 reached the brow of the hill and commenced to 
 blaze their way through the dense growth of tim 
 ber above. When they had got partly through the 
 
182 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 McCrary place, some of the neighbors, knowing of 
 Mike s misfortune, volunteered to complete the 
 road, offering to take their pay in the wood that 
 was cut down in clearing it. 
 
 It was well into November when Mike was suf 
 ficiently recovered to attempt his journey home. 
 
 " Do you feel quite able to go, Mike ? " asked 
 Ned, kindly. He could not help being secretly re 
 lieved at the departure of this uncongenial guest, 
 but he was all the more determined not to be re 
 miss in any of the dues of hospitality. 
 
 " Yes, I m able, so far as that goes, but I 11 be 
 blessed if I want to," confessed Mike frankly. 
 " Boys, I know I ve been a trouble to you, an in 
 the way, an it has n t been just like home to you 
 with a big, rough fellow like me lyin around." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " " Not at all ! " the boys hastened to 
 say, but Mike persisted : - 
 
 " Yes, it s been a bother, an you know it, an 
 I know it. An your sister little lady as she 
 is knows it. Do you s pose I did n t know it went 
 agin the grain to have me eatin an drinkin out of 
 her nice dishes an settin round her tidy rooms, not 
 knowin so much as how to do it genteelly, neither ? 
 But I tell you, boys, it seems s if I niver lived 
 before. You know what I ve got to go back to." 
 
 The boys hardly knew what to say to this out 
 burst of confidence. Mike relieved them of all 
 embarrassment by cutting short the conversation 
 himself. 
 
 " Well, I must be goin ," he said. " Thank you 
 
A PREMATURE BLAST. 183 
 
 kindly for what you ve done for me. After all, a 
 man s bed is what he makes it. P r aps I might 
 be makin mine better when I git about agin." 
 
 It was several weeks more before Mike Mc- 
 Crary s budding ambition found a chance to expand. 
 Early one morning, Dr. John, going down to his 
 stable to harness his horse, met Mike, still a little 
 pale, and limping slightly. 
 
 " Dr. John," he said modestly, " will you loan 
 me a hoe for a week or so ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Mike. There are plenty here in the 
 tool-house. Help yourself." 
 
 Mike selected one that was broad and heavy. 
 
 " I m goin to try to git work down to Abbott s 
 nursery," he exclaimed. " A man was tellin me 
 they re short of hands in hoein ." 
 
 " Then jump into the buggy and I 11 give you a 
 lift. I have to go by there this morning," said Dr. 
 John. 
 
 On the road Mike was speechless for a time ; 
 then he broke the silence by saying : 
 
 "It was too much for me, doctor, when I got 
 back there." 
 
 He pointed over the hills in the direction of his 
 home. 
 
 " At the Austins , it was different like, you 
 know." 
 
 " Enterprising young people ! " commented the 
 doctor. " Do you know what they are busy about 
 now ? " 
 
 " No, sir/ 
 
184 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Putting a hydraulic ram in The Brook to in 
 crease their supply of water, so that they can irri 
 gate the lower part of their place. They found 
 that a few old fig-trees were paying better than 
 anything else on their ranch, so they encouraged 
 the growth of a lot of suckers, and when the wet 
 season had fairly set in, they planted them out. 
 There are a hundred or more of them, and they 
 will commence bearing a year and a half from now. 
 The only drawback was the lack of a copious sup 
 ply of water. This is their way of meeting it." 
 
 But Mike, with the pertinacity of people of his 
 kind, was not to be diverted from his subject. 
 
 " I could n t stand it after I got home. You 
 knew about my father, doctor ? " 
 
 " I have heard something," replied the Doctor, 
 conservatively. 
 
 " Then you know. He hung himself. I think 
 if he d just plucked up and fought it out, it d a 
 been better for us. My mother is a different 
 sort." 
 
 He broke off abruptly for a moment, than re 
 sumed. 
 
 " We ve got plenty of land there, good land, 
 too ; but not a red cent to cultivate it. We ve 
 lived from hand to mouth all along. Let the cat 
 tle take care of themselves, and sold a calf or cow 
 or a horse to pay the storekeepers, when they 
 were paid ! It s goin to be different now. I in 
 goin to make a raise." 
 
 Dr. John gave a keen, sidelong glance at his 
 
A PEEMATUEE BLAST. 185 
 
 companion. Was this Mike McCrary, the idle, 
 worthless fellow, whom he had held in contempt 
 for years? Would this newly conceived ambition 
 hold out ? 
 
 As Mike got out of the buggy he turned to Dr. 
 John with some of his old roguery. 
 
 " I come pretty nigh boltin into the next 
 county, but it was n t to dodge the work on the 
 road, doctor. An you 11 surely own that my 
 blast cleared the road, sir, if it did clear a good 
 deal else along with it." 
 
CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 THE BUILDING OF THE BRIDGE. 
 
 EARLY one morning in the following spring, Dr. 
 John appeared at Home Ranch with a look of 
 quiet satisfaction on his face. 
 
 " Well, young folks, I have some agreeable news 
 for you," he announced. " The county supervi 
 sors have decided to build a bridge across The 
 Brook, to connect with your new road." 
 
 " You don t say so ! " cried Martin. 
 
 " What ever started them ? How did they know 
 about the road ? " asked Ned. 
 
 " Oh, they heard of it some way or other," re 
 plied the doctor, calmly. " It makes a short cut 
 to the next town up in the mountains." 
 
 " It will be an immense advantage to us. It 
 will give us a chance to get help when we need it, 
 for one thing. We can do a good many things 
 that we can t do now without help. Catch a Chi 
 naman trusting himself to our suspension bridge ! " 
 remarked Ned. 
 
 " Yes, it will be an advantage to you, on the 
 whole, I think," replied the doctor. 
 
 No one could have suspected from Dr. John s 
 careless manner that he had been first and fore- 
 
THE BUILDING OF THE BEIDGE. 187 
 
 most in promoting the entire scheme. He had 
 first laid the matter before the supervisor from 
 their township, who had introduced the proposition 
 in open board. When it appeared that the rest 
 of the body were inclined to take but a lukewarm 
 interest in the matter, Dr. John had not been 
 discouraged. He had addressed a communication 
 to the supervisors, setting forth, in clear language, 
 the saving of time and travel that would accrue 
 from connecting with the new road, and had asked, 
 in a forcible way, whether the supervisors of Ala- 
 meda County had not sufficient energy and enter 
 prise to match the efforts of a parcel of boys. 
 This letter he had backed up by a petition, signed 
 by all the people of substance throughout the val 
 ley, asking that the bridge should be built, and the 
 Board had yielded a tardy surrender to the logic 
 of circumstances. 
 
 " Of course the building of the bridge implies 
 the laying out of a public road through both of our 
 places," explained the doctor. " The ground will 
 be condemned and paid for at a reasonable rate. 
 "We must take pains to have it pass along the side 
 of Home Ranch, so as not to cut the place in two. 
 It is going to make a difference to you in more 
 than one way. Soon the great outside world the 
 world that is afraid of quicksands and swinging 
 bridges will be crowding in upon you. Don t 
 let it come too near." 
 
 The boys were busy with their spring plowing, 
 and knowing that Dr. John never permitted them 
 
188 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 to make any difference in their work when he was 
 there, having finished their breakfast, they went out. 
 
 Hope, who had bread to bake, stepped into the 
 pantry, pulled out her cakeboard and commenced 
 to knead the dough she had mixed while waiting 
 for the boys to come in to breakfast. She was 
 very quiet, thinking over Dr. John s last words, 
 which seemed to her to hold a deep significance. 
 
 The doctor was quiet, too, and he was thinking 
 about Hope. He had become attached to the 
 young girl, during the two years and more that 
 they had lived in such close neighborship, but he 
 had to confess to himself that she puzzled him. 
 He was accustomed to the ordinary type of girl, 
 bright, talkative, plucky, ambitious, eager to take a 
 position in the world. This shy little body, who 
 went so quietly about her self-appointed tasks, who 
 never expressed any desire to mingle with other 
 girls of her age, who knew no amusements beyond 
 the daily happenings on the ranch, was a new type 
 to him. 
 
 " Hope," he said, gently ; " don t you care any 
 thing for dress ? " 
 
 The girl looked up, surprised by his tone and 
 inquiry. 
 
 " For pretty clothes, such as girls usually fancy," 
 he explained smilingly. " For silks, and laces, and 
 beautiful jewels, such as women of fashion wear." 
 
 It was not a new thought to Hope. He could 
 see that by the expression of her face. So the 
 girl had her temptations and weaknesses to camp 
 
THE BUILDING OF THE BEIDOE. 189 
 
 down, silently and uncomplainingly as she fought 
 her battles. 
 
 " I might," she answered frankly, " if other 
 things made it right. Sometimes I think that this 
 life is good for me in that very way. If I had 
 been able to have all those things, I am afraid I 
 should have thought of little else. I should have 
 been a selfish little peacock, and the boys the 
 boys would have despised me." 
 
 She drew a long breath and gave the lump of 
 dough she was kneading some very unnecessary 
 thumps, as if it represented the frivolous spirit 
 she had found it so hard to conquer. Perhaps the 
 thought came into her mind that if she could have 
 
 o 
 
 had all the pretty things her girlish fancy craved, 
 she could have borne very well to be despised by 
 the boys. 
 
 "It does n t trouble me one bit to go without 
 them," she insisted bravely ; " but there is one thing 
 I should like : to be dressed perfectly, all through, 
 just for once. I think I should like brown best," 
 she continued, speculatively, tipping her little head 
 to one side and absently holding up a lump of 
 dough that she had separated from the rest, to 
 make into a loaf. " A pretty, dark brown wool 
 dress, the very finest and costliest material, but 
 wool ; and a brown jacket, and a brown hat, and 
 brown gloves, and yes, some bronze boots. 
 Everything the very best of its kind. Not for peo 
 ple to see. For my own comfort, even if I only 
 put them on once in a great while and took a little 
 
190 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 walk, all by myself, about the ranch. Oh, I know 
 it s perfectly absurd," she concluded, with a little 
 bird-like laugh. 
 
 But Dr. John did not appear to be listening at 
 all, and Hope felt quite rebuked for her levity. 
 He was making an entry in a little note-book he 
 carried in his pocket. When he had replaced it 
 he took his leave, but Hope s cheeks burned for an 
 hour afterwards, over the recollection of her folly. 
 
 They who plant fruit-trees in California do not 
 plant for coming generations. Mother Nature is 
 bountiful in the Golden State, and hastens to re 
 ward those who serve her. 
 
 The third year, the occupants of Home Eanch 
 commenced to reap a substantial return for their 
 labors. They now had six acres of orchard fruit 
 in bearing, and each succeeding year would in 
 crease the product. In addition to this, they had 
 seven acres of young orchard, including the figs, 
 and had added three acres to their vineyard, using 
 cuttings from their own vines. 
 
 They had reached the point of an assured 
 prosperity, and knew that with economy they could 
 meet any ordinary emergency, while their income 
 was sure to increase steadily, year after year. 
 They still kept up their studies, and hoped another 
 year to be able to lighten their labors, now growing 
 a little too heavy for them, by hiring extra help in 
 the fruit season. 
 
 The few strangers with whom they came in con 
 tact from time to time remarked their unusual 
 
THE BUILDING OF THE BRIDGE. 191 
 
 intelligence and breadth of substantial knowledge, 
 but there was a certain quaint precision of speech, 
 an excess of earnestness of manner, which is very 
 sure to mark those who live apart, and whose intel 
 lectual training has been almost wholly acquired 
 from books. 
 
 It was not until late in August that the bridge 
 was built, but when it was at length completed 
 they found the doctor s prediction verified. 
 
 The world the little world of the valley 
 rushed in upon them. The boys, accustomed to 
 meet the men of the community, as well as boys 
 of their own age, on their frequent trips to the 
 village, were little discomposed by the change, 
 although it was observable that Martin grew par 
 ticular about his toilet, and never went out or came 
 in without stealing a look in the glass to make 
 sure that his hair was neatly brushed and his face 
 clean. Ned took a hearty pleasure in the visits of 
 other young farmers and farmers sons, and took 
 them about the place to look at the trees and vines, 
 or discussed various modes of culture with them, 
 with great satisfaction. 
 
 With Hope, now a tall, fair girl of fourteen, it 
 was wholly different. She could not reconcile her 
 self all at once to this invasion of their privacy. 
 The whole world seemed to have been turned topsy 
 turvy. She trembled at the sound of carriage- 
 wheels more than she had ever faltered at the 
 shock of a California earthquake, and was con 
 scious at times of a barbarous wish that the bridge 
 
192 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 might be consumed by fire or swept away by a 
 freshet. She had always been painfully shy, and 
 to suddenly become the mark of so much social 
 attention was almost more than she could bear. 
 
 " Oh, I wish they would stop it, or would n t 
 come at all," she once said in an undertone to Ned, 
 after a carriage-load of callers had rolled away. 
 
 " Stop what ? " asked Ned in surprise. 
 
 " Don t you see how the ladies the middle- 
 aged ones all look on me with compassion, as if 
 I were just rescued from some long and terrible 
 exile ? They talk to me as if they were mission 
 aries, and I a forlorn little pagan. And the 
 young ladies I don t dare call them girls act 
 as if I were some wild animal escaped from a 
 menagerie." 
 
 Hope did not realize that her own unusual dig 
 nity, which masked her natural timidity, and her 
 seriousness, overawed the young people of her own 
 age. She saw them look curiously at her, and be 
 came conscious that her clothes were old-fashioned 
 and plain. She observed that they hesitated while 
 talking with her, and thought that she had tired 
 them with her dullness. She resented the insinua 
 tion that her years of separation and seclusion had 
 been years of martyrdom : those happy, useful 
 years. The only sorrow she had was one she 
 could not bare to the casual comments of stran 
 gers : the thought of her father, sick, helpless and 
 lonely, chained down by disease. 
 
 Occasionally city people came across the bridge 
 
THE BUILDING OF THE BRIDGE. 193 
 
 and up the road, bound on merry jaunts across the 
 range. 
 
 One day a party of young men, rigged out for a 
 hunt, and driving a team of fast horses, came up 
 the road. They were a wild and noisy crowd. 
 All of them had cigars in their mouths, and they 
 had evidently been drinking. Hope was at work 
 among her roses as she saw them coming, and she 
 wondered when they drew up at the gate of Home 
 Ranch. 
 
 " Here s for a raid on that vineyard ! " she heard 
 one of them shout, as he led the way for the rest to 
 follow. 
 
 44 1 see something better : a lot of roses and a 
 pretty girl. Here s for a kiss ! " sang out another s 
 merry voice, and she saw him leave his companions 
 and come down towards her, while the others halted 
 and looked after him, as if uncertain whether to 
 keep on or to follow him. 
 
 Hope turned away from him, but she stood her 
 ground and busied herself with her roses, confront 
 ing him with a pale face and flashing eyes, as she 
 heard his step behind her. 
 
 It is difficult to say which of the two was most 
 shocked and abashed. 
 
 " Oh, Tom Bateman ! " cried Hope. 
 
 "Hope Austin ! " was all that Tom could stam 
 mer at first, but he threw away the cigar he was 
 smoking. 
 
 " I m sorry, Hope. Indeed, I meant nothing by 
 it. We re out on a regular lark, but this is the 
 
194 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 worst thing I Ve done. Indeed it is ! I m heartily 
 ashamed of myself." 
 
 " Go ! " said Hope severely, pointing to the gate 
 and to the young fellows who were waiting. " Go ! 
 And I hope, Tom Bateman, I 11 never see you again 
 as long as I live, if it has to be like this." 
 
 Without a word, he did as she bade him, and 
 would have taken his companions with him, but 
 at that moment the boys appeared, coming in to 
 luncheon. They hailed him cordially. 
 
 " Why, how are you, Tom ? Come to make us 
 a little visit, I hope," said Ned. 
 
 " Not to-day," replied Tom, greatly embarrassed. 
 " To tell you the truth, I did n t know you lived 
 here. It was quite by accident we stopped at all." 
 
 " Oh, but you ought to come up and see Beauty," 
 urged Martin. " She s the prettiest cow in all the 
 valley. Every one admires her. Her calf is almost 
 as large as she is now. * 
 
 "I I can t stop ! " insisted Tom, taking a step 
 towards the road, where the rest of the party were 
 already climbing into their cart. " You Ve got a 
 neat little place up here. I suppose you fellows 
 have no end of fun, driving about the country, and 
 hunting, and fishing, and such things." 
 
 " We have plenty of fun," returned Ned, pleas 
 antly, " but not precisely that kind. We don t 
 have much time to seek our own pleasure, so we 
 find pleasure in our work and duty." 
 
 "Really? " said Tom, with honest sympathy. 
 
 " Oh, you mus n t pity us. We would n t change 
 
THE BUILDING OF THE BBIDGE. 195 
 
 places with the jolliest of you city fellows. Come 
 up and try it yourself." 
 
 " Another time ! " said Tom. 
 
 " All right. Another time," rejoined the boys ; 
 but they both wondered whether Tom would keep 
 his word. 
 
 The rest of the trip was spoiled for Tom. Where- 
 ever they went, and in all their frolics, he saw con 
 tinually before him an earnest little face looking 
 with contempt upon him, and heard a sweet, girlish 
 voice, saying : 
 
 " I hope I 11 never see you again, if it s to be 
 like this." 
 
 As for Hope, she went sadly up to the house, 
 saying over and over again to herself : 
 
 "Oh, I wish the bridge had never been built. 
 I wish it had never been built." 
 
 Yet the bridge was to give them many a lift on 
 the road to a greater prosperity, and to bring great 
 happiness to them. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 A PRISONER OF WAR. 
 
 THE building of the bridge brought its train of 
 disaster, as well as its benefits. 
 
 One Saturday afternoon, late in November, soon 
 after its completion, Hope was seated in her little 
 rocking-chair just outside the door, darning stock 
 ings and humming a little song to herself, while the 
 boys were pruning in the vineyard. 
 
 Down the road she saw some one coming. A tall, 
 burly man had crossed the bridge, and was coming 
 up the road. Now and then he stopped and sur 
 veyed the place. 
 
 Had any one been near enough to see, they might 
 have wondered at the cunning look of gratification 
 that overspread his face. Not a thing escaped his 
 eye : the thriving hedge planted along the road ; the 
 vigorous orchard ; the ground beneath the trees, 
 destitute of a weed or spear of grass ; the vineyard, 
 carefully staked out and with the vines already 
 pruned ; the long rows of roses, now luxurious with 
 bloom. 
 
 As he turned into the place and lounged around 
 so as to obtain a closer view of the house, which 
 now looked " as if it belonged to somebody," as the 
 
A PRISONER OF WAR. 197 
 
 doctor had said, a broad grin of delight, not un 
 mixed with surprise, overspread the fellow s face. 
 He noted the newly shingled roof, the screens at 
 doors and windows, the shelf outside of the back door, 
 with its row of glittering milk-pans shining in the 
 sun, the flower-beds around the house, the general 
 air of thrift and comfort. Not a detail escaped 
 his eye. 
 
 " Well, I vum ! " he said. 
 
 He strolled around to the front of the house, and 
 came suddenly upon Hope, in her neat gingham 
 dress, with the sunshine sifting down through the 
 pepper-trees upon her head, touching her brown 
 hair with golden glints. She wore a plain linen 
 collar and had a bright bow of ribbon at her throat, 
 and was altogether as fair and sweet a vision of 
 dawning womanhood as one often sees. 
 
 A coarse oath fell from the man s lips at the 
 sight. 
 
 " it ! Thought I d got only a passel o boys 
 
 to deal with. Bother the wimmen folks ! " 
 
 Hope gave a little start at the unexpected ap 
 pearance of the stranger and his muttered excla 
 mation, and sprang up from her seat. 
 
 " Did you do you want to see anybody ? I 
 thought you had gone up the orchard to the 
 boys." 
 
 She had little knowledge of the world, but the 
 bleared eyes, the brutish mouth, the red swollen 
 face of this man possessed her with an instinctive 
 dread. 
 
198 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Her agitation reassured the fellow. 
 
 " Keckon I do," he said roughly. " Reckon I ve 
 suthin to say to them boys yo brothers, be 
 they?" 
 
 Hope drew from her pocket a small hunting- 
 whistle, one that the boys had once given her to 
 call them to their meals when they were out of 
 hearing. She placed this to her mouth and blew a 
 shrill summons upon it. Up the canon the echoes 
 answered her, and a mocking call came from the 
 rough crags of the hillside back of the place, blend 
 ing with the boys voices, as they united in a hearty 
 response. 
 
 Her heart gave a bound when she heard the 
 sound of the boys hurrying feet, and a moment 
 later they came into sight. 
 
 Ned wore a loose flannel blouse, unbuttoned at 
 the neck and showing his white, girlish throat. An 
 old straw hat was on his head, and in his hand 
 he carried a pair of heavy pruning shears. Mar 
 tin followed, wearing a loose jumper and overalls. 
 The faces of both boys were flushed by running. 
 They were sure something unusual had occurred, 
 or Hope would never have blown the whistle. 
 
 The burly visitor looked at them in evident satis 
 faction. They were fine specimens of American 
 boyhood, brave, manly young fellows, every inch of 
 them ; but they were by no means men, according 
 to his standard. 
 
 "Howoldbeyo ?" 
 
 He put the question to Ned, who had been waiting 
 
A PEISONER OF WAR. 199 
 
 in silence for him to make known his errand. 
 There was something so sinister about the man s 
 face and manner that Ned hesitated an instant 
 before replying. Then he answered quietly : 
 
 " Eighteen last July." 
 
 " Reckoned yo was n t beyant it. An how 
 long be yo heah ? " 
 
 " Three years in September." 
 
 "Filed on t? Gov ment land, hey?" perse 
 vered the visitor. 
 
 " I did. What business is it of yours ? " de 
 manded Ned, nettled by the impertinent questions 
 and jeering tone. 
 
 The stranger viewed him with the cruel eye a 
 cold-blooded angler bends on the little fish that 
 has swallowed his bait, and which he plays awhile 
 before jerking out of the water. 
 
 " Le s go in the house," he said. " Reckon I d 
 like to look around a bit." 
 
 This was decidedly too much : to have their little 
 home invaded by this impertinent trespasser, who 
 had already frightened Hope and called them from 
 their work, robbing them of precious time ! Ned 
 placed himself before the door and looked up boldly 
 into the stranger s face. 
 
 "Out of the way, blast yo , yo young scoundrel ! " 
 growled the man, seizing Ned by the shoulder and 
 attempting to shove him roughly aside, when a new 
 actor appeared on the scene. 
 
 Old Tray r fast drifting into the lethargy of age, 
 appeared inside of the screen door, his great body 
 
200 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 poised as if for. a spring, his eyes gleaming with a 
 fierce light, and his great teeth parted in a low 
 growl. 
 
 The man gazed at the dog with a look of horror. 
 His ugly grasp of Ned s shoulder changed to a 
 movement of appeal. He fell back a little, pulling 
 the boy a little nearer the door. 
 
 " Look thar ! " he said in an awed voice. 
 
 " Well ? " said Ned carelessly, glancing up with 
 contempt at the big fellow who could be alarmed at 
 the sight of a dog. 
 
 "Tell me, pon honah! Don t yo see nothin 
 thar?" 
 
 Something moved Ned, always a truthful boy, to 
 fly directly in the face of fact. 
 
 " Of course I don t," he replied carelessly. 
 " What should I see ? " 
 
 " Don t see nothin that looks like a dog, a big 
 black dog, suthin the matter with one hind leg, 
 his eyes like bloody vengeance, ready to tear the 
 man to pieces as did it ? " 
 
 " Certainly not ! " said Ned. 
 
 " Got em agin ! " muttered the man, falling back 
 and retreating cautiously to a vantage ground under 
 the pepper-trees, whence he looked about him appre 
 hensively, as if expecting to meet everywhere the 
 phantom born of a guilty conscience. 
 
 They were beginning to understand. It did not 
 surprise them greatly when he recovered his bully 
 ing air and renewed his abusive talk. 
 
 " I d like to know who s got a bettah right to 
 
A PRISONER OF WAR. 201 
 
 this heah dobe than the man that built it. You 
 want to know who I be ? I m Hank Jones. An 
 what m I doin heah ? I m come to claim my 
 prop ty." 
 
 He laughed coarsely and went on. 
 
 " Got things fixed up right smart, ain t yo ? 
 Much bliged to yo , I m sho . I 11 not be hard 
 on yo . Some folks d change yo back rent. I m 
 not that small. Take time to pack up yo traps, 
 an be off. No bjection ef yo want to stay till 
 mo nin . Reckon I 11 take a look ovah the ranch, 
 an see ef it s fahmed to my likin ." 
 
 He swaggered off around the house as he con 
 cluded, while the brothers and sister looked at each 
 other in dismay. What they had heard, coarsely 
 and roughly as it was expressed, came to them 
 with an awful conviction of its truth. 
 
 They would have to give up the little home 
 they had toiled so long to secure, and which they 
 had worked so cheerfully to make comfortable and 
 attractive. 
 
 " Oh, Ned, I d rather die ! " moaned Hope. 
 
 " Let s kill him! " said Martin fiercely. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Ned. He was busy thinking, 
 but no happy inspiration came to his relief. In 
 stead, he remembered the schoolmaster s misgiv 
 ings, the reluctance of the employees of the Land 
 Office, the hesitating encouragement of the Sur 
 veyor General on the day they had first proposed 
 entering the land. 
 
 They had not the means to make a legal contest. 
 
202 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Even if they had, it was not probable they would 
 have any show of winning it. 
 
 They sat down together on a seat beneath the 
 larger of the pepper-trees. There seemed nothing 
 left for them but submission. 
 
 A couple of hours passed by, and the sun sunk 
 low in the west, its level rays illuminating all the 
 place. The children looked sadly about at the glo 
 ries of the sunset sky and the gilded beauty of the 
 hills, wondering if it was the last time they would 
 ever see a sunset there. The boys forgot that they 
 were hungry, forgot that their hard day s work 
 called for refreshment and repose. Hope, usually 
 so thoughtful for others, was blind to everything 
 but the thought that they were about to leave 
 their little home and be cast adrift upon the world 
 again. 
 
 At last they saw a large figure moving through 
 the shrubbery, and drew a little nearer together 
 as they recognized the stranger : the man who had 
 announced himself as Hank Jones, and who had 
 come to seize the ranch. 
 
 The demands of the animal, in big, coarse fel 
 lows like this Missouri giant, outweigh the strength 
 of the spirit, and even foil their own vicious 
 schemes. 
 
 Hank Jones was hungry. Hunger made him 
 more complaisant. A few hours before he would 
 not have parted with his claim on the ranch at any 
 price. Now, he was ready to abate it. 
 
 " Now, lookee heah, young uns," he began, in 
 
A PRISONER OF WAR. 203 
 
 what he intended for a conciliatory tone. "Yo 
 uns all know what minors means ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Ned. 
 
 " An bein minors, yo ain t got no shadow o a 
 show in any coht o law." 
 
 The young people were speechless. 
 
 " Now, yo see I got the dead drop on yo , so 
 fah s the title to this heah prop ty s consehned ? " 
 
 " Did you ever prove upon it ? " asked Ned, 
 sharply. 
 
 " Don t yo be too smaht ! " admonished Hank 
 Jones sourly, eying the boy with a malevolent look. 
 " I ve proved up a heap mo n yo 11 evah do. I 
 broke the first land heah ; I put up that dobe yon. 
 I Ve done a sight mo n them rich land-grabbers 
 evah do. I m a M ssou y gen leman, I am, n I 
 can sweah my way through any coht, slick s ligbt- 
 nin , n don t yo fohget it ! But what I s bout 
 to say s this : Ef yo want to buy me off, I m fo 
 sale. My figgah s jes ten thousand dollahs." 
 
 " But we hav n t any money " began Ned. 
 
 Hope put her hand gently over his mouth. The 
 spirit of her revolutionary grandmothers flashed up 
 in her. 
 
 " Don t talk to him. I would n t buy him off if 
 we had a hundred thousand. I don t believe he has 
 any right to the place. I don t believe the courts 
 would help on such injustice." 
 
 The big Missourian looked at her with secret 
 admiration. 
 
 " She s a tarnal tongue for a gal ! " he said 
 
204 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 aloud. " Don t le s jaw any mo bout the busi 
 ness this evenin . Mought be we could fix it up to- 
 morrah. Reckon yo got some friends what 11 loan 
 the stamps. Hain t got a side o bacon hangin 
 round heah, somewhar? Durned ef I don t see 
 what grub thar is on this ranch ! " 
 
 Body had the ascendancy now. Hank Jones 
 would not press his claim further until he had some 
 thing to eat. It occurred to Ned that it might be 
 well, as a matter of policy, to feed their tormentor. 
 He looked at Hope, but Hope pressed her lips 
 tightly together and shook her head. The little 
 housewife thought of her store of good things in 
 the pantry her Saturday s baking of custard pies 
 and tarts and brownbread and trembled for them 
 if this huge gourmand should come across them. 
 
 Seeing that the broad hint he had given brought 
 no response, Hank Jones started off to forage for 
 himself. 
 
 " If we could only get him out of the way till we 
 got our spring crops in, we d have something to 
 fight with," said Ned, gloomily. 
 
 The boys were standing in characteristic atti 
 tudes, Ned with his hands in his pockets, a scowl 
 on his forehead, and a look of deep perplexity in 
 his eyes ; Martin leaning against a tree and whis 
 tling a melancholy tune. 
 
 Hope, concerned for her pantry and the good 
 things in it, dropped upon her knees and peered 
 under the low branches of the trees, the better to 
 observe the actions of the visitor. He was nearing 
 
A PBISONEE OF WAE. 205 
 
 the rear corner of the house. He was stopping-, 
 and looking in the direction of the kitchen. He 
 was going in ! No, he had changed his mind and 
 was striking off across the garden. Where could 
 he be bound now ? Ah, she saw ! 
 
 When the Missourian had squatted on the land, 
 years before, as soon as he had a roof over his head 
 and before he thought of providing any shelter for 
 his stock, in fact before he so much as made a 
 kitchen, he had been true to Southern traditions 
 and put up a smokehouse. 
 
 This smokehouse was more suggestive of a stock 
 ade for purposes of border warfare or defense than 
 of the innocent purposes for which it was designed. 
 In the scarcity of mill lumber, it had been con 
 structed of massive, rough-hewn logs. It was des 
 titute of windows, its only opening being a stout 
 but clumsy door in front. 
 
 To secure his smoked meats against depredation, 
 the builder had attached a heavy iron hasp and 
 staple to door and building, and hanging from 
 the latter was a rusty padlock, long disused, picked 
 up and hung there by Dr. John, when they first 
 looked at the building. Ned had utilized this 
 smokehouse for storing his box material, and there 
 was nothing in it but a few bundles of shooks and 
 some empty boxes. 
 
 It was towards this building that the Missourian, 
 drawn by the charm of old associations, had bent 
 his steps. "He s going in," said Hope, in a low 
 voice thrilling with excitement. * He s going in ! 
 
206 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 No, he is n t. Oh dear ! He s turning away. No, 
 he s put his head in, he is going in " 
 
 " What in the creation is the matter, Hope ? " 
 " What do you mean, Hope ? " exclaimed both 
 boys in a breath. 
 
 " He *s in ! " cried the girl, and without another 
 word she flew like a deer through the shrubbery 
 and across the garden, swung the door upon the 
 luckless forager, caught the padlock, slipped the 
 hasp into place and the arm of the padlock through 
 the staple, springing it shut with all the force of 
 her small hands. Not content with this, she darted 
 to a pile of timbers near by, and had dragged out 
 a stout piece and was bracing it against the door 
 when the boys came up. They took in the situa 
 tion at a glance. 
 
 " Good for you, Hope ! " said Ned, beneath his 
 breath, while Martin clapped his hands and shouted 
 in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 " Le me out ! " 
 
 The slow-witted Missourian had stopped rum 
 maging among the boxes and shook the door 
 fiercely before he realized the situation. 
 
 The only answer to the prisoner s demand was 
 a fresh peal of laughter from Martin. 
 
 " Le me out or I 11 kick the dog-goned place all 
 to slivers ! " 
 
 " Come now, boys ! " said the prisoner persua 
 sively. " Quit yo foolin ari le me out." 
 
 " Shan t do it ! " said Martin, saucily. 
 
 "It s a good joke, boys. A tarnal good joke," 
 
A PRISONER OF WAR. 207 
 
 said the Missouriaii from behind his bars. " But 
 it s gittin late. I ain t had a bite sence mawnin . 
 Le me out an I 11 call it quits." 
 
 " Will you give up your claim on the ranch ? " 
 asked Ned, in a business-like tone. 
 
 "Not much I don t. Oh, yo young rascals! 
 I 11 lick yo for this when I git out o heah." 
 
 But he had the empty air for an audience. Ned 
 had caught up the milk-pail and was off to the 
 cow. Hope had run down to attend her little 
 chickens, and Martin was kindling a fire in the 
 kitchen stove. 
 
CHAPTEK XXVIII. 
 
 HOW HANK JONES S CLAIM WAS SETTLED. 
 
 TEN days later Dr. John, starting for an after- 
 dinner walk across The Brook, saw Ned walking 
 slowly towards him upon the bridge, his head hang 
 ing in a dejected manner, while he absently tore 
 the bark from a long willow switch that he carried. 
 
 " Something is the matter with those children," 
 said Dr. John to himself, " and I shan t rest an 
 other night until I find out what it is." 
 
 Since the bridge had been built and the world 
 had rushed in upon Home Ranch, Dr. John had 
 ceased to go there as frequently as before. His in 
 terest in the young people, however, was as strong 
 as ever, and for several days he had noticed that 
 they held themselves strangely aloof. Walking 
 down to the station, the previous Sunday, he had 
 come upon Martin, on his way alone to the Sun 
 day School in the village. When the doctor had 
 inquired why the others were not along, as usual, 
 the young fellow had reddened and stammered an 
 evasive reply. 
 
 " Something s certainly wrong ! " reflected the 
 doctor. " I only hope they have n t quarreled 
 among themselves." 
 
HANK JONES S CLAIM SETTLED. 209 
 
 "Well, Ned?" he said heartily. "How are 
 things going on up at the ranch? " 
 
 " Pretty well, I thank you, sir," replied Ned. 
 Then he was overpowered by the sense of the 
 falsehood he was uttering. 
 
 " Not exactly that, either. Things are not going 
 well at all, Dr. John. In fact, they re going 
 about as badly as they could," he said desperately, 
 resolved to make a clean breast of the whole mat 
 ter and take counsel with the doctor. 
 
 " Why, how is this, my boy ? Gophers eating 
 the roots of the young fig-trees, raccoons after the 
 chickens, or the cow got the colic ? Out with it, 
 whatever it is ! " 
 
 " Dr. John," said Ned piteously, disregarding the 
 bantering tone, " did you ever know Hank Jones, 
 the man who first entered on our land ? " 
 
 "Know him? Yes," replied the doctor, a quizzi 
 cal smile dwelling on his face for a moment. " He 
 used to hang about the village before he tried 
 farming. I can t say that we were ever formally 
 introduced, but I once made his acquaintance over 
 my hen-roost, after dark." 
 
 " Oh, is he that kind of a man ? " exclaimed 
 Ned. " Well, he came up here a week ago last 
 Saturday. He says we have no right to file on the 
 land, being minors with a parent living. He says 
 he has a better right to the land than we. He says 
 he can prove it in the court. He told us to pack 
 up our things and be off." 
 
 " My patience ! " said the doctor, who evidently 
 
210 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 had very little patience to spare, on receiving this 
 intelligence. "Why didn t you call me over? 
 Don t worry your heads over such a preposterous 
 claim. Have you heard anything from him since ? " 
 
 " Why well you see the truth is," stam 
 mered Ned, " he did n t go off. He s up there 
 still." 
 
 " Up there still ! " repeated the doctor wrath- 
 f ully. " You don t mean to say he s taken posses 
 sion?" 
 
 " N no ! " returned Ned timidly. " He has n t 
 exactly taken possession. In fact, it s rather the 
 other way. We have taken possession of 
 him." 
 
 " What ! " exploded the doctor, turning around 
 and facing the boy. 
 
 " We captured him. Or rather Hope did. 
 She s got him in the smokehouse." 
 
 Ned wound up with a hysterical chuckle. 
 
 " Ned Austin, are you crazy ? The Hank Jones 
 I am talking of is a giant of a man, six feet and a 
 half high and weighing at least two hundred and 
 seventy-five pounds." 
 
 " I know it," gasped Ned, " but we ve got him. 
 And Hope did it. He was prowling about, trying 
 to find something to eat. He went into the smoke 
 house. Hope saw him and slipped up and fastened 
 him in. He s been there ten days." 
 
 " Hold on, Ned ! I can t stand any more. Ha, 
 ha, ha, ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 The hills echoed and reechoed the hearty peals 
 
HANK JONES S CLAIM SETTLED. 211 
 
 of laughter. An old blue heron, alarmed by the 
 sound, left her nest in the tall sycamore above 
 them, and soared up the canon. Ned eyed the 
 doctor resentfully. 
 
 " It s no laughing matter to us," he said, " I 
 did n t think you d make fun of us." 
 
 " Big Hank Jones jailed by little Hope ! That 
 great braggart taken prisoner by a slight, fourteen- 
 year-old girl ! " laughed Dr. John. " But what are 
 you going to do with him? " 
 
 " That s just the trouble, doctor," replied the 
 boy gravely. " We don t quite know. We 
 thought if we could only keep him out of the way 
 till we got this spring s crop in and some money to 
 hire a lawyer, but he makes such a fuss : such an 
 awful noise. We ve been on nettles for fear some 
 body would come to see us and hear him. This 
 afternoon he s been more quiet. I m afraid the 
 smokehouse is n t healthy. I think he s getting 
 weaker." 
 
 " Very possible. It is n t exactly conducive to 
 strength to fast for ten days running." 
 
 " Oh, we ve fed him," Ned hastened to explain, 
 " through a chink in the wall. Martin was for 
 giving him nothing but cornmeal and water, the 
 same we feed the little chickens ; thought it would 
 break him down quickest. But I insisted on bread 
 and water ; only Hope will butter the bread and 
 throw in a piece of pie once a day. I ve given 
 him every chance to do the right thing. Twice a 
 day, regularly, I ve gone there and asked him how 
 much he d take for his claim." 
 
212 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " And what did he say?" 
 
 " At first he swore he would n t take a penny 
 less than ten thousand dollars. But he s dropped 
 since. This morning he came down to a thousand. 
 He s awful hungry," concluded Ned confiden 
 tially. 
 
 " Now you re laughing again, Dr. John," he 
 added reproachfully. 
 
 " Ned, I protest I was never more serious in my 
 life," asserted the doctor, but a mirthful gleam in 
 his eye and a little break in his voice contradicted 
 his solemn statement. 
 
 " Suppose I go up and interview this this 
 prisoner of yours." 
 
 " If you only would ! " cried the boy. It seemed 
 a little cowardly, but it was altogether comforta 
 ble, to shift this heavy burden to Dr. John s shoul 
 ders. 
 
 Ned made just one more remark, 011 the way up 
 to the house : 
 
 " It s an awful responsibility to be the head of 
 a family." 
 
 The doctor s eyes twinkled again at the sight of 
 Hope s guilty start as she came out of the chicken- 
 yard and saw him. As they approached the house, 
 the reason for Ned s solicitude became manifest. 
 
 A series of unearthly groans, howls and fierce 
 invectives, accompanied by the sound of lusty kicks, 
 were heard in the direction of the smokehouse. 
 
 As they turned the corner of the house they 
 came upon Martin, mounting guard on an old 
 
HANK JONES S CLAIM SETTLED. 213 
 
 sawhorse. He dismounted and came toward the 
 doctor, who smiled at his careworn look. 
 
 At the sound of footsteps the commotion in the 
 smokehouse subsided, only to be renewed in a dif 
 ferent key. 
 
 "Help! Help! Muhdah! Le me out o 
 heah ! Them little beggahs locked me up. I m 
 the rightful ownah this ranch ! " 
 
 " He might take a notion to burrow out," ex 
 plained Ned in a troubled whisper. 
 
 " Ask him how much he 11 take now to make 
 peace," suggested Dr. John. 
 
 44 How much will you take to settle your claim 
 against the ranch, Mr. Jones ? " said Ned in a 
 business-like tone. 
 
 There was a moment s silence, as if the prisoner 
 was meditating. 
 
 "Five hundred dollars," came the weak reply. 
 " Yo can sholy borry the money from somebody. 
 Thar s Dr. John, now. Jest ast him. Thar s no 
 need of tellin him what it s fo . Tell him yo 
 low yo got in a tight place, an that 11 help yo 
 out. * He 11 take pleazhah in commodaten o yo ." 
 
 " I guess you 11 take less than that, Hank 
 Jones," said the doctor coolly. " Suppose you 
 settle for a ticket back to the city, and a good 
 kicking." 
 
 " Thundah ! " came the startled response from 
 the interior of the smokehouse. Hank Jones re 
 cognized the doctor s voice, and knew that his game 
 was up. 
 
214 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 The doctor turned the key in the padlock and 
 the door swung wide, disclosing the captive sitting 
 in a disconsolate attitude on the floor. His libera 
 tor seized him by the collar and jerked him out, 
 administering the promised kick as he did so. 
 
 " Take that, you lazy hulk of a fellow ! " said 
 Dr. John. " The next time you want to browbeat 
 any one into pensioning off an idle vagabond, let it 
 be a man of your own size, and not a household of 
 honest, industrious children. If ever you show 
 yourself in this locality again, I have an account of 
 my own to settle with you, and I promise you a 
 short shrift." 
 
 Ned and Martin and Hope beheld the discomfi 
 ture of their enemy in surprise, and not without a 
 sense of amusement. 
 
 As big Hank turned to go, he caught sight of 
 Martin s beaming face, and shook his fist mena 
 cingly at the boy. 
 
 " Nevah yo mind, yo little rascal ! Yo 11 nevah 
 play no mo monkey shines on me. I 11 have the 
 law on yo yet. Yo s the ornariest, mischievousest, 
 good fo nothin " 
 
 His anathema was interrupted in an unexpected 
 fashion. Hope took a step forward, put her hand 
 on Martin s shoulder, and looking Mr. Jones full 
 in the face, said quietly : 
 
 " I did it." 
 
 " Yo ? " The Missourian stopped short and sur 
 veyed the little girl like a man in a dream. 
 
 " Yes," said Hope simply. 
 
HANK JONES S CLAIM SETTLED. 215 
 
 A look of unmistakable admiration came into 
 the rowdy s face. 
 
 " Well, I vum ! " 
 
 With this exclamation, he turned on his heel, 
 and Home Ranch saw him no more. 
 
 After the prisoner had taken his leave it was 
 the children who were merry and light-hearted, the 
 doctor who was troubled and thoughtful. 
 
 " I wonder if we ought not, in justice, pay him 
 for the improvements on the place," said Ned, 
 when their laughter had subsided. " He built 
 them, and we certainly have the benefit of them." 
 
 " Don t trouble yourself with the thought of 
 any such obligation," contended Dr. John warmly. 
 " He left them behind him, simply because he 
 could n t carry them away or sell them. Some day 
 when you are able, make up for them by giving 
 help to some poor family in the valley, ruined by 
 the corrupt influences of Hank Jones and his 
 drunken, gambling set." 
 
 " That s a good idea," said Ned. " I confess, 
 Dr. John, the man really impressed me with the 
 weakness of our claim upon the ranch. Of course 
 it s all over now, and we can afford to laugh about 
 it." 
 
 " I don t know whether you can afford to laugh 
 about it or not," said Dr. John soberly. "Your 
 position is not so sound as I should like to have it." 
 
 " I thought that was all settled long ago," said 
 Ned in surprise. " We have never heard anything 
 since I made the entry " 
 
216 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " But I have," interrupted the doctor. " I have 
 been following the matter very closely. Your ap 
 plication created quite a tempest in the political 
 teapot at Washington, and it has been raging ever 
 since. The question of your rights has gone from 
 one authority to another. It has traveled from de 
 partment to department. It has been in the hands 
 of a congressional committee. For a time it looked 
 as if it would be approved; but I will tell you 
 frankly that the latest reports are discouraging." 
 
 u On what grounds do they object to granting 
 it? " asked Ned, turning very pale. 
 
 " On the ground that you are a minor with a 
 living parent. If your father should regain his 
 health he could of course claim the right which you 
 would have already exercised." 
 
 " But he never would ! " asserted Martin hotly. 
 
 " Our opinion as to that makes no difference in 
 the question of law," said the doctor. 
 
 " What are we to do ? Give up the land ? " 
 asked Ned. 
 
 44 You have two alternatives open to you." 
 
 " And they are ? " 
 
 44 Continue to live on here, as you have been do 
 ing, taking your chances of being disturbed by the 
 national authorities or some rival settler, and, if 
 no one interferes before, enter the land again, in 
 proper form, when you are twenty-one. Or 
 bring your father up here, and amend the entry at 
 once, if the final ruling is adverse, by placing it in 
 his name." 
 
HANK JONES S CLAIM SETTLED. 217 
 
 "We can t .do that," said Hope, her cheeks 
 burning and her eyes filling. " How can you think, 
 Dr. John, that we would run the risk of sacrificing 
 our father s life for our own selfish benefit ? " 
 
 " My dear little girl," replied the doctor kindly, 
 " do you suppose I would suggest anything to 
 you that could work any possible injury to your 
 father?" 
 
 " Dr. John, do you mean that it would be safe 
 surely safe to move our father up here ? " 
 
 " Perfectly safe, Hope, if you will let my friend 
 manage the moving for you. Your father will not 
 be injured in the least by the journey, if it is made 
 under the proper conditions. I should have ad 
 vised it from the first, if it had not been for the 
 difficulty of getting here. Now that the bridge is 
 built, that objection is removed. He will be a 
 hundred times better off up here than in any hos 
 pital. If I must confess the truth, I don t exactly 
 like the treatment your father is getting profession 
 ally. I have disapproved of it all along. They 
 give him too many drugs." 
 
 The young people were somewhat puzzled as 
 they listened to this explanation. Evidently the 
 doctor s friend in the city had told him more than 
 he, Dr. John, had thought it best to repeat to them. 
 And how strange to hear a physician denounce the 
 tools of his trade ! 
 
 The doctor interpreted their thoughts in some 
 degree : 
 
 " Mind, I don t say that we can get him well, or 
 
218 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 even promise that there will be any decided im 
 provement. There is n t a man living who can pre 
 dict the outcome of such a case. I do say that the 
 conditions will be much more favorable ; that his 
 chances will be improved. Oh ! " exclaimed Dr. 
 John, in a fine rage with the traditions of his 
 school, " when will people learn the sin of shutting 
 patients up in a gruesome city building, surrounded 
 by the sick and the dying, violating the highest de 
 mands of nature, and then expecting them to get 
 well? The sanitarium of the future will have pure 
 air, cheerful surroundings, healthful diet, and ban 
 ishment of drugs for its cornerstone. Of course 
 this is rank heresy for a physician to be preaching. 
 Now, recollect, you young people must n t tell of 
 me, or my profession might fire me." 
 
 "There is another reason why I feel like hasten 
 ing this change," said Dr. John to Hope as he was 
 leaving the house, after their plans for the sick 
 man s journey had been laid out. " For several 
 months past your father has been making inco 
 herent sounds. I am convinced he is making an 
 effort to control his speech. No one down there 
 understands him or tries to ; indeed, no one has 
 the time ; but I believe if you and the boys, or any 
 people who cared for him, could be near him all of 
 the time and give him the proper attention, they 
 might come, in time, to make out what he tries to 
 say. It would be a great comfort to him." 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 HOW GOD REMEMBERED. 
 
 ONLY a number in a hospital ward ! 
 
 How many times Henry Austin had repeated 
 this sentence to himself. He, all his life a 
 strong and active man earning an independent liv 
 ing and providing a comfortable support for his 
 family, loved and respected, and looked to for 
 counsel and help, to be for three long years re 
 duced to this ! 
 
 A number in a hospital ward ! checked and 
 billeted and laid by to await that awful day, so 
 terrible when it approaches a man like this, when 
 the sheet would be drawn over his face, and he 
 would be carried off, like other poor fellows he had 
 seen, to lie on a dissecting table or be buried in 
 a pauper s grave. 
 
 Three long years ! How his soul raged within 
 him, and he strove to break the bonds that held 
 him as he thought upon it. Somewhere he had 
 read of a soldier in the army, sent out on a scout 
 ing expedition, and prisoned by the timbers of a 
 fallen building, who found himself looking down 
 the muzzle of his own gun, knowing that the set 
 tling of the timbers, at any moment, might sign his 
 
220 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 death warrant and send a bullet crashing through 
 his brain. The man had finally been rescued, 
 hours later, a raving maniac. 
 
 Just so he had lain there and faced death, not 
 minute after minute and hour after hour, but day 
 after day, month after month, year after year. 
 Why had his own brain not given away ? How 
 did it come that the delicate mechanism had sur 
 vived the .frenzied beating of the soul against its 
 bars? 
 
 A number in a hospital ward, bound hand and foot 
 by disease, unable to give any outward sign of the 
 passionate longings, the bitter regrets, that surged 
 within him. The children he had loved so dearly, 
 left to him as a sacred charge by his dying wife, 
 were struggling on alone, deprived of his help and 
 guidance. Thousands of men who loved their 
 homes and families not half so well as he had 
 loved his, daily passed up and down the street out 
 side, on their way to and from their work. Other 
 men, who had been permitted to retain the brute 
 strength with which nature had endowed them, 
 beat their wives and abused their little children, 
 and spent their days in carousal, while he lay there 
 inert and powerless, an interesting study for medi 
 cal students, a puzzle for the doctors. 
 
 Only a number in a hospital ward ! The world 
 going on without him. Forgotten by his old 
 friends. A lost factor in humanity. Forgotten, 
 yes, 
 
 Forgotten by God ! 
 
HOW GOD REMEMBERED. 221 
 
 Others had been remembered. 
 
 For three winters the grass had grown over the 
 grave of the man who had been brought there the 
 day he had come, and who had occupied the cot 
 beside him. The poor fellow who had come in last 
 night, his legs crushed by a cable car, was even 
 now being carried out on a plank. He, alone, was 
 forgotten. 
 
 The corpse and the men who bore it had gone 
 out, and an oppressive silence reigned in the 
 place. 
 
 Perhaps it would be his turn next. Perhaps 
 God would remember. 
 
 The door was opening again. There was a 
 short parley. A visitor had arrived. It was no 
 one for him. His visitor, his heart warmed at 
 the thought, his one faithful friend raised up 
 for him in a miraculous way, came only on Sun 
 day, and this was Thursday. 
 
 Those visits were the one break upon his mo 
 notonous existence, the sole thread of connection 
 between him and the life he had left. 
 
 What a singular insight this mysterious visitor 
 seemed to have, talking of the things he most 
 liked to hear about, summing up the important 
 news of the week, bringing illustrated papers, 
 which he held so patiently for him to look over, 
 reading aloud something that would give him food 
 for thought during all the dreary week that was to 
 follow. Best of all, he brought news of the chil 
 dren, with little remembrances from them ; told of 
 
222 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 the brave fight they were making, and of their suc 
 cess ; assured him that they were growing in mind 
 as well as thriving in a worldly way, and most 
 precious assurance of all that their thoughts still 
 clung to him. How greedily he listened to the lit 
 tle homely details of their daily life, the life from 
 which he was barred out, he, whom God had for 
 gotten. 
 
 Steps were coming down the ward. He closed 
 his eyes, feigning sleep. He did not want to see 
 the strange faces of other people s friends, did not 
 want to feel the doctor s business grip upon his 
 pulse, or to serve as a text for a disquisition to some 
 new students. 
 
 The footsteps were pausing beside his cot, paus 
 ing many moments, minutes. It was not like 
 physicians or students to have so much patience. 
 
 He opened his eyes and saw a familiar face, full 
 of compassion, looking down upon him. Had he 
 then lost the count of time, and was the Sabbath 
 come again, bringing with it this kind and never- 
 failing visitor ? 
 
 " Mr. Austin," said the visitor, " I have come 
 to take you to your children." 
 
 Not forgotten ! Oh, praise God ! not forgotten. 
 To be taken away from the dull ward and stifling 
 city air, out into the country. To see green fields 
 and flowers and fresh green foliage, to hear the 
 birds sing, and the low of cattle, the ripple of run 
 ning water, the music of his children s voices. 
 
 In the excitement of the moment he lifted his 
 
HOW GOD REMEMBERED. 223 
 
 hand, his helpless right hand, which fell again 
 powerless by his side ; but the visitor observed 
 the action, and his face brightened. 
 
 Doubt, unbelief, a dumb surprise, succeeded by 
 a look of exultation, swept over the face of the in 
 valid. But he glanced fearfully towards the door, 
 where a physician stood talking to the nurse in 
 charge of the ward. 
 
 "That s all settled. I have made it all right 
 with them. Now I am going to help to get you 
 ready, and we will start on the noon train." 
 
 Under the skilful direction of Dr. John s friend, 
 it took but a short time to make ready the sick 
 man s simple belongings, and to prepare him for 
 the journey, protected by a warm overcoat and 
 fleecy traveling rug, tucked carefully about him, in 
 the great wheeled chair. 
 
 As he was carried out of the ward he looked 
 back and saw one of the attendants taking down 
 the card and number from the head of his cot. 
 
 A leaden weight seemed to drop from him. His 
 shackles had fallen away. 
 
 The great invalid chair was put into the ambu 
 lance and carried down to the ferry, with scarcely 
 a jolt or jar of its occupant. 
 
 How good the world was, after all, and how 
 kind the people ! Willing hands aided in lifting 
 down the invalid, drivers of loaded express teams 
 reined up their horses, hack-drivers turned aside, 
 to give the chair right of way. 
 
 Every one looked pitiful, and he heard words of 
 
224 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 gentle commiseration on every side. A lady who 
 brushed past him laid a fresh rose in his hand. A 
 little child came and leaned against his chair, look 
 ing up into his wasted face with sad, inquiring 
 eyes. Train hands hurried to his companion s 
 side to give him assistance in lifting his charge 
 aboard the train. An old white-haired gentleman 
 (it was Mr. Abbott) followed them into the bag 
 gage car, exchanged a few words with his friend, 
 and then turned to the sick man with some warm 
 words of commendation for the children that it did 
 his heart good to hear. 
 
 There was quite a little crowd waiting at their 
 destination, Ned and Martin being foremost to 
 welcome him. Every one wanted to help about 
 getting him off the car and into the light spring 
 wagon that was waiting. Many were the cautions 
 given to the driver, many and cordial the expres 
 sions of sympathy and interest in him. 
 
 He had not only regained his identity once 
 more ; he already seemed a person of importance 
 in this small place, and the open solicitude for his 
 comfort, the general anxiety for his safety, moved 
 him to wonder, for the first time during his long 
 illness, whether he might not possibly regain his 
 health after all. 
 
 It was so different from being merely a number 
 in a hospital ward. 
 
 How carefully the man drove over the smooth 
 road, keeping the horses in a walk all the way, 
 avoiding the little ruts channeled by a recent 
 
HOW GOD REMEMBERED. 225 
 
 shower, and the rocks that were now and then ex 
 posed, while Dr. John and the boys steadied his 
 chair. How fresh the face of all the country, 
 bathed in the noon sunshine, radiant in its winter 
 verdure. 
 
 And now they are drawing near to the hills and 
 crossing a stream of crystal purity, overhung by 
 tall trees. And now they are turning into a little 
 lane bordered by a hedge of roses, and beyond are 
 more roses, brilliant of color and gladdening the 
 air with their perfume. There are still more roses 
 wreathed about the little cottage beyond, and be 
 neath the climbing vines is the daintiest flower of 
 them all, a fair young girl with her hands clasped 
 before her and tears in her shining eyes : his dear 
 little daughter, Hope. Her name should be his 
 watchword henceforth. 
 
 As for the children, their joy at seeing their 
 father was quite damped by their failure to see 
 Dr. John s friend. 
 
 Martin at length blundered out his surprise and 
 disappointment. 
 
 " But your friend, Dr. John ? the one who has 
 gone to see father, and sent us news every week, 
 I thought he was to be here." 
 
 Dr. John looked so guilty that Martin was con 
 vinced that he had plunged into new depths of 
 crime, and his heart smote him. 
 
CHAPTEE XXX, 
 
 PROGRESS. 
 
 " MY friend ? Oh, yes. He s a queer sort of 
 chap, Martin. Awkward fellow, rather keep out 
 of the way. Some other time, perhaps," explained 
 Dr. John, hopelessly confused. 
 
 A sudden conviction swelled Hope s heart. She 
 looked into Dr. John s telltale face, and her eyes 
 swam in tears. 
 
 "Dr. John, don t we already know your friend? 
 Is n t he right here, before us, now ? " 
 
 She extended one little hand to the Doctor as she 
 spoke, but he had turned away and did not see it. 
 
 " My friend s occupation will be gone now," was 
 all he said in reply. 
 
 They had all been busily at work, preparing for 
 their father s coming. The boys had cut a new door 
 into their room and partitioned off half of it for 
 Hope, while in the room she had occupied they put 
 the set of furniture that had always been used by 
 their parents. They had covered the floor with 
 straw matting and had put some coyote skins upon 
 it ; there were fresh flowers on the table and bureau, 
 and family photographs upon the wall. 
 
PKOGBESS. 227 
 
 They would Lave taken the invalid at once to his 
 room, but with a feeble movement of his head, a 
 look of appeal in his dark eyes, he protested so 
 earnestly against going in-doors, that they placed 
 his chair on the porch. There he sat until the sun 
 bowed low in the west, and the chill of a Decem 
 ber night came down. 
 
 " We must have a Christmas this year, Hope," 
 said Ned, a week or two later, coming in upon Hope 
 as she was giving the last touches to her neat little 
 kitchen, after finishing her morning s work. 
 
 " Ob, I mean to," said Hope, with an important, 
 matronly look. " I made mince-meat last week, 
 you know, and that pumpkin out in the garden is 
 for pies." 
 
 "I wasn t thinking so much of the eatables, 
 Hope ; I knew you could be trusted to look after 
 them and we boys to do justice to them. Let us 
 trim up the house and give it a holiday look, and 
 study up some little surprises for father ; make it a 
 sort of celebration of his coming home." 
 
 " That will be delightful," cried Hope, her eyes 
 sparkling. " You know how generously he used to 
 provide for us on such days. We must make him 
 understand that it is our turn now." 
 
 The young people kept their plans a secret from 
 each other. On the day before Christmas Hope 
 was busy, up to her elbows in flour, beating eggs to 
 a stiff froth, cutting jellies into cubes and spheres 
 and stars, rolling out sheets of flaky paste, watching 
 fire and oven with breathless anxiety. 
 
228 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Mr. Austin s chair had been wheeled into the 
 kitchen that .morning, and he watched his young 
 daughter s preparations with a gentle indulgence 
 that soon grew into a subdued interest, and then 
 into an open solicitude, rivaling her own, when the 
 fire flashed up too quickly and threatened to scorch 
 some of the nice things, and dampers had to be 
 pulled out and covers lifted. He tasted the choice 
 tidbits that she brought to him, and answered the 
 anxious inquiry of her eyes with a look of pleased 
 approval. Altogether they had a delightful time 
 of it, father and daughter, conducting these grand 
 preparations together. 
 
 Mr. Austin signified his wish to retire early that 
 night. The long, wakeful nights he had spent in 
 the hospital were giving way to sound and whole 
 some sleep. He was genuinely weary from the 
 passive part he had taken in the bustle and stir of 
 the day, and he fell asleep almost as soon as the 
 boys got him undressed and into his soft, comfortable 
 bed. 
 
 He awoke the next morning with a blessed sense 
 that the years had somehow fallen away and his 
 dead wife had come back. In the adjoining room 
 a sweet voice was singing a little Christmas hymn 
 that she used to sing. It took some minutes for 
 him to collect his thoughts and to realize that it 
 was only Hope, singing softly as she went about 
 her work. How like to her dead mother the child 
 was growing every day. 
 
 But what had happened to his room ? It was 
 
PROGRESS. 229 
 
 transformed into a veritable bower, with leafy gar 
 lands and bunches of mistletoe and flowers. High 
 up on the wall there was an inscription in living 
 green. The letters were clumsily fashioned, but he 
 made them out without much difficulty : 
 
 So that was the meaning of Hope s elaborate 
 preparations the day before ! He had not thought 
 it was so late in the year. The days of the week 
 he had always kept account of, but he had grown 
 tired of counting the months. 
 
 The boys came in, with suppressed joy in their 
 faces, to get him ready for the day. They washed 
 and dressed him and wheeled his chair up close to 
 the bed, to help hi in upon it. There came a light 
 tap on the door. 
 
 There stood Hope, her face beaming, and on her 
 arm a marvelous dressing-gown made of some soft, 
 heavy cloth, a dark maroon, with silken facings of 
 brightest cherry color, and with tiny sprays of 
 flowers embroidered 011 the points of the collar and 
 on the cuffs and pocket lapels. I am not prepared 
 to say that it could compare with any tailor-made 
 garment, or that it had much of any shape at all, 
 or that the combination of colors would have stood 
 the test of an artistic critic s scrutiny, but there 
 was so much love and unselfishness and patient in 
 dustry woven into it, that I should like to see the 
 critic who would have had the heart to find fault 
 with it. 
 
230 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Then came the boys turn, and Ned brought out 
 a prettily carved reading-rack that he had made, 
 which slipped into a brass socket in the arm of the 
 invalid-chair. Martin had made a pretty tray, just 
 large enough to hold an individual tea-service, and 
 this, too, was arranged so that it could be attached 
 to the chair or taken away at pleasure. 
 
 It is wonderful how much can be expressed with 
 out the use of ordinary speech. The father s face 
 and eyes spoke volumes of gratitude and content. 
 
 It was a disappointment to them all that Dr. John 
 did not come to share Hope s bountiful dinner, but 
 late in the afternoon Wing came over, bringing a 
 huge parcel and a note. The note was addressed to 
 Mr. Austin, and read : 
 
 " I send you with this a Christmas remembrance 
 for Hope. I am sure you will permit her to re 
 ceive this token from one who has found great com 
 fort in watching her happy, self-denying life, and 
 who once received from her the highest compliment 
 ever paid him." 
 
 They removed the paper wrappings from the 
 parcel and found a large pasteboard box. Hope 
 lifted the cover and gave a cry of delight, for there 
 was the realization of her most ambitious dream of 
 self-gratification. A dark brown walking-dress of 
 finest texture and stylish but modest pattern. A 
 pretty hat and walking- jacket and two pairs of 
 gloves to match the dress. Beneath these was 
 another parcel, containing a pair of neat French- 
 kid boots. 
 
PEOGBESS. 231 
 
 The little maid was almost afraid to show the 
 pleasure she felt over these things for fear the others 
 might think she had been unhappy without them, 
 but she soon found that she need have no such 
 scruples. The boys were quite as delighted as she, 
 and would not be satisfied until she had run and put 
 on the pretty clothes and given them all a chanca to 
 admire them. 
 
 They all wondered at the last clause in Dr. 
 John s letter. None of them recollected Hope s 
 quaint speech when they were riding down to The 
 Brook the first day they came to the ranch : 
 " You look as if you could be trusted." 
 
 The sick man, so long shut up in a shadowed 
 room and between close walls, seemed to have an 
 insatiable desire to be in the open air. 
 
 " Let him have it. It is the best tonic in the 
 world," was Dr. John s decree. 
 
 So day after day they drew him out upon the 
 porch, or along the paths, grown hard and smooth 
 with three years constant usage, leading over the 
 place. They humored his whims as a mother 
 studies the fancies of a delicate child. When chill 
 winds arose in the afternoon, and they started to 
 take him back to the house, they yielded to the pite 
 ous entreaty of his eyes and fastened up a blanket 
 to break the force of the wind, and muffled him 
 more warmly, feeling richly repaid by his look of 
 gratitude and pleasure. 
 
 On rainy days, when he could not be taken out, 
 he was fain to take comfort by the open fire, but 
 
232 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 his eyes always turned longingly towards the win 
 dow, and all rejoiced that the stormy days were few 
 and scattering, and the days of warmth and sun 
 shine many. 
 
 When summer came, the boys made him a bed 
 of rushes under the old walnut tree in the orchard, 
 where they were accustomed to pack their fruit, 
 and when fall came another couch was made up in 
 the vineyard, with a rude canopy over it. 
 
 For the better part of two years he lived, ate and 
 slept out of doors. Before a single year had gone 
 by, what the skill of man had failed to accomplish, 
 nature and God did for him. By degrees the in 
 coherent sounds resolved themselves into words 
 and the words into sentences, too indistinct and 
 broken to be always understood by strangers, but 
 intelligible to those around him. 
 
 The mysterious affection which still held the or 
 gans of speech in a measure under its spell did not 
 relax its hold upon the muscles of his body. He 
 could not stand upon his feet or hold a sheet of 
 paper in his hand. 
 
 In after days the lessons of this sad period came 
 home to the young people. It taught them to 
 value the help and sympathy of others, to appre 
 ciate the need of mutual dependence, to cultivate 
 the sweet virtues of patience and unselfishness. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 HOW TOM KEPT HIS WOKD. 
 
 THE second winter that Mr. Austin spent at the 
 ranch was marked by the coldest weather known 
 in California since it came into the possession of 
 the United States. 
 
 The mercury, which usually ranged from 45 to 
 50 Fahrenheit on the most severe winter days, and 
 only on rare occasions touched 32, began a series 
 of most scandalous performances. First it re 
 treated to a couple of degrees below the freezing 
 point, and the frost played havoc with the leaves 
 of geraniums and a few other tender plants. 
 
 At this Californians made merry, for out of their 
 wealth of bloom and fragrance they could for a 
 time well afford to spare the geraniums, little 
 prized on account of their rank growth and un 
 pleasant odor. The heliotrope they missed more, 
 but knew that a few weeks would restore it. So 
 boys and girls sought eagerly for the thin film of 
 ice that formed on standing water in exposed situ 
 ations, and men and women congratulated each 
 other upon the crisp, exhilarating air, and ac 
 counted for the extreme cold by attributing it to the 
 snow that had lately whitened the summit of the 
 
234 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Black Hills," as they called the thickly wooded 
 range ten miles back from the valley. 
 
 But so far the mercury was only coquetting. It 
 had serious business on hand, and meant to com 
 pass it. Just as the people were laughing over 
 the game of hide-and-seek it was playing around 
 the freezing point, and predicting that in twenty- 
 four hours there would come a decided change of 
 weather, the mercury played a shameless joke. 
 
 It dropped to 25, seven degrees below the freez 
 ing point. 
 
 People who had for a quarter of a century gone 
 to sleep in perfect security against the inroads of 
 the weather awoke to find exposed waterpipes burst 
 and their premises flooded, many delicate vegeta 
 bles and flowers frozen stiff, growing grain blighted, 
 lime trees killed, and the fruit and foliage of lemon 
 and orange trees withered as if by a hot blast. 
 
 Of course they tried to make light of it, and 
 jested, saying that a bit of weather from beyond 
 the Rockies had strayed west and could not find its 
 way back. The} 7 " deplored the hundreds of lives 
 lost in the middle northwest, up Minnesota and 
 Dakota and Nebraska way, during the terrible 
 blizzards that prevailed there, and congratulated 
 themselves upon their superior position, saying 
 that it had never happened before, that it was nice 
 to have some real " weather " after all, and that it 
 was n t half as bad as Florida presumptuous 
 minx ! had done a year or so back ; and that it 
 would never happen again ; and they were glad of 
 
HOW TOM KEPT HIS WORD. 235 
 
 it anyhow, because it gave them a chance to com 
 pare their own glorious climate with the East, 
 and a host of other very comforting and philosophi 
 cal assertions. 
 
 But the fact remained that California was most 
 painfully humiliated. Her " glorious climate " was 
 in tatters. It took months to recover from the 
 shock vegetation received. It took years to re 
 cover from the blur upon her reputation. 
 
 At Home Ranch, during the prevalence of the 
 " blizzard," as the five days of frosty weather were 
 called, the boys did little for a day or so, except to 
 attend to their stock and the daily chores, seal up 
 cracks around the doors and windows through 
 which the wind whistled, and pile up wood in the 
 great fireplace, where the flames leaped and crackled 
 in defiance of the weather. 
 
 Then their boyhood asserted itself, and since the 
 weather tried to make merry with them, they de 
 cided to make merry with the weather. So they 
 faced the cool blasts, and took advantage of the 
 crust frozen over the wet ground to draw up great 
 loads of driftwood from the stream. They broke 
 off pieces of ice nearly an inch thick from the 
 sheet that covered the reservoir by the spring, ex 
 temporized a freezer, and witn their abundant sup 
 ply of sweet cream made some delectable ice-cream. 
 They even prepared a mimic toboggan slide by 
 flooding a steep declivity near the reservoir, one of 
 the coldest nights, and did some tall and lofty 
 tumbling there with the drag the next day. 
 
236 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 The cold period dissolved in a tempest of wind 
 and rain, which will long be memorable on the 
 California coast, because of the good ships it sent 
 to the bottom. Even in San Francisco Bay, ves 
 sels dragged their anchors and were tossed help 
 lessly about, so that damaging collisions resulted, 
 while light craft were hopelessly at the mercy of 
 the winds and waves. 
 
 On the night that this tempest was brewing, a 
 stylishly dressed young fellow went down to the 
 water-front and ordered a man to get out a sail 
 boat. 
 
 The man openly protested. 
 
 " It s not a fit night to be out in, sir. There s 
 a moon now, but look off there." 
 
 He pointed to the southwest, where a dark mass 
 of clouds was rising, driving before it a line of 
 fleece white as the ocean s foam. 
 
 " Never mind. It does n t concern you ; I m the 
 one that s going, not you." The man obeyed or 
 ders without further protest, but there was a hard, 
 reckless look on the young man s face that he could 
 not forget, and when he had watched the frail boat 
 and its occupant out of sight, he turned in for the 
 night with an uneasy sense that he had neglected 
 his duty. 
 
 He awoke later to the roaring of the wind and 
 heard the rain falling in sheets on the roof, and re 
 membered the boat, and the boy who had gone out 
 in it alone. 
 
 " Something s up," he said to himself. " Never 
 
HOW TOM KEPT HIS WOED. 237 
 
 saw him like that before ; him, always so good- 
 natured and pleasant-spoken. Jiminy ! If he s 
 out in this ! " 
 
 Something was wrong, miserably, hopelessly 
 wrong. 
 
 Father and son, after years of wretched misun 
 derstandings, bad management on the one side and 
 willful defiance on the other, had come to an open 
 issue. Stung by the taunts he had received, the 
 young fellow had started off, bound he cared not 
 whither, but resolved never to return to the man 
 who had disowned him. 
 
 Tom Bateman was in the middle of the bay 
 when the squall struck. The moment before he 
 was reckless, desperate, indifferent as to what be 
 came of him ; but when he saw the caps of foam 
 rising about him and felt the wind strike his small 
 craft, he strove, with the instinct of a true sailor, 
 to help her to weather the gale. 
 
 The next moment he saw that it was useless. 
 The wind had chopped around and was coming 
 from the northwest, driving him toward the Ala- 
 meda shore, against the ebb of a strong tide. 
 
 He could only cling to the gunwale and await 
 the inevitable result, a crash against one of the 
 great hulks looming up along the eastern shore, or 
 the capsizal of the boat. In either case he would 
 have little show. 
 
 Death was before him, and he was not ready. 
 
 Alas for the wasted years that lay behind him ! 
 He had always thought there was plenty of time. 
 
238 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Plenty of time to enjoy himself, to have a " good 
 time," to jest and frolic and parley with life, leav 
 ing its serious duties for years to come. 
 
 And now, the years to come, where were 
 they? 
 
 He was going into an eternity he dared not 
 face, an eternity where he could think of but one 
 who might be pitiful to him and shield him from 
 blame : the little sister who died long years before. 
 
 Thinking of the little sister reminded him of the 
 fair young girl who was so like her. It was not a 
 pleasant memory, the recollection of that day when 
 he had come upon her in her country home, and 
 wounded her and shamed himself, in his dastardly 
 attempt to prove himself a man of the world in the 
 eyes of his low companions. 
 
 She had not made a failure of life, neither she 
 nor the boys. His path had been easy and theirs 
 hard, but they had done the best that came in their 
 way, and he, he had gone straight down to per 
 dition, and this was the end. There was pity in 
 her face that day, in spite of her contempt. Per 
 haps she would be more pitiful if she could see him 
 now. 
 
 Ah ! it had come. He was in the water trying 
 to get hold of the capsized boat, which thrust him 
 back and fled from him as if it too were human. 
 It was only a question of a few moments when he 
 should go to the bottom, but he struck out, cum 
 bered as he was by his heavy clothing, clutching, 
 as men will, at the last desperate chance. 
 
HOW TOM KEPT HIS WORD. 239 
 
 He must be close to the other shore. He remem 
 bered it, miles and miles of mud flats, more dan 
 gerous far than the open bay. Yet here and there, 
 far apart, were little country wharves, reached by 
 deep estuaries, where grain and other rural pro 
 ducts were shipped. If he should happen upon 
 one of these, the chance might become a certainty. 
 
 The water was calmer now, for the tide was at 
 the turn, but he had the wind to battle with, now 
 shrieking full in his face, now blowing from all 
 points of the compass at once. But what was this ? 
 Deep, clear water, salt no longer, but fresh as a 
 mountain spring, and with dim, ghostly shapes on 
 either side. He clutched at something, exhausted, 
 fainting. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 A NEWSPAPER ITEM. 
 
 THE next morning dawned clear and bright. 
 
 Hope was out early, attending to some little 
 chickens whose coops had been flooded by the 
 rain. She had gathered the wettest of the downy 
 creatures into her apron, and was returning to the 
 house to put them in a basket beside the kitchen 
 stove, when something strange and unearthly 
 seemed to rise up in her path. 
 
 She gave a cry of terror, and then stood still 
 and trembling. 
 
 A drowned man ! There could be no doubt about 
 it. The pallid face, the sunken eyes, the bare, wet 
 head, the dripping clothes ! And there was a terri 
 bly familiar look about the face. Oh, why should 
 IT come to her ? 
 
 But drowned people do not walk and speak and 
 smile, such a ghostly semblance of a smile as it 
 was! 
 
 "Don t run away from me, Hope. Don t be 
 afraid. It s a very different way this time dif 
 ferent from the last." 
 
 " But, Tom Tom ! What does it mean ? " she 
 cried, her voice sharp with a fear that it might not 
 
A NEWSPAPER ITEM. 241 
 
 be the living Tom after all, that her very senses 
 might be playing her false. 
 
 The man who had tossed about on the water all 
 night, a plaything between life and death, earing 
 little what became of himself, believing that there 
 was no one else to care, was deeply moved by the 
 sight of her distress. 
 
 " It means a great deal that I am not able to tell 
 you just now," he said shakily. " It means that old 
 life is all over. It means that if you take me in, 
 you take in an outcast, one who has his own way 
 to make in the world, and a hard prospect before 
 him. Oh, Hope ! " he broke off, " I ve been face 
 to face with death all night. It s going to be dif 
 ferent after this. Put that other time out of your 
 mind." 
 
 " Of course I will," said Hope softly, the tears 
 coming into her eyes, she knew not why. 
 
 "But what am I thinking?" she suddenly ex 
 claimed. " You will die if you stand here in your 
 wet clothes. Come into the house. Go into the 
 boys room and get some of their clothes. Take 
 towels and rub yourself dry before the fire in the 
 front room. Be very quiet. Father is sleeping 
 yet. And Tom ! Be careful what you say before 
 him. We never excite him in any way. We will 
 tell him you have come to pay us a visit, and pass 
 it off that way." 
 
 " But the boys ? " said Tom. 
 
 " Oh, the boys ! You know them. It will be all 
 right with the boys." 
 
242 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 So it came that Tom Bateman became one of the 
 household at Home Eanch. The boys received him 
 with little question. They were satisfied to know 
 that he had had a disagreement with his father, 
 and had left home for a time. They wondered a 
 little over the episode of the sailboat, but attrib 
 uted the reckless voyage to a foolish freak rather 
 than any more serious impulse. They did not 
 know but what he was in regular correspondence 
 with his family. It was enough for them that al 
 though more sober and thoughtful than they had 
 ever known him, he was the same good-hearted fel 
 low, the same pleasant companion as of old. 
 
 With Hope he talked more freely. She alone 
 understood that the scene before father and son, 
 the night he left home, had been the culmination 
 of years of indifference on the father s part, years 
 of undirected license for the son, furthered by the 
 thoughtlessness of a society-loving woman. 
 
 " I give you my word, Hope, I had done nothing 
 wrong or shameful. I had only idled away the 
 time and thrown money about, like the other young 
 fellows I knew, sons of my father s friends, asso 
 ciates of his own pick and choosing. He never 
 encouraged me to do or be anything else. Yet 
 he hauled me over the coals for it. You re going 
 to the dogs, my father said. I m going exactly 
 where you ve ticketed me, I said. Then he flew 
 into a terrible rage, and I would n t stand his 
 abuse and told him so. He ordered me to leave 
 the house and never presume to enter it again, and 
 
A NEWSPAPER ITEM. 243 
 
 I told him I d take him at his word. My mother 
 stood by and heard it. She never said a word. 
 They did n t care, either of them. They were glad 
 to get rid of me." 
 
 " Oh, they did care. They do care," said Hope 
 earnestly when she heard this statement. " They 
 are troubling about you now. You must write to 
 them, or go back." 
 
 " I can t do it, Hope. It s gone too far to be 
 mended. If you choose to turn me out here, it s 
 all right" 
 
 "You know that I don t mean that, Tom, but it 
 is n t right to feel so. And it is n t true. Mothers 
 do care, even if they don t show it. And your 
 father, perhaps you spent too much. Maybe he 
 could n t afford the money, Tom." 
 
 " He ! He s rolling in money. A million and 
 to spare. Everybody knows it," and Tom laughed 
 bitterly. " Never mind. I 11 show him that I m 
 not dependent on him. I can make my way in the 
 world, even if I have to do it by hoeing peas or 
 following the plow. I m going to strike Ned for 
 wages next week." 
 
 For the first time in his life, Tom Bateman had 
 settled down to steady work. For the first time in 
 his life, his surplus energies were finding a whole 
 some and legitimate channel, and the discipline was 
 good for him. 
 
 The boys looked upon his action as a mere whim, 
 and wondered how soon it would give out, and were 
 quite ready to jest with Tom over his experience in 
 
244 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 ranching, when the notion should have worn itself 
 out. But when week after week passed by and his 
 term of service extended into months, they began 
 to comprehend that what they had mistaken for a 
 boy s rash impulse was a man s serious purpose. 
 
 " It s the only life in the world worth living," 
 he said to Hope one day. " I don t mean that it 
 is absolutely necessary for a man s welfare that he 
 should put forth strong physical effort all his life, 
 though it is a good tonic ; but this quiet home life, 
 the reliance upon each other, the interest in growing 
 things, it somehow binds a family together. If 
 my father had been a farmer it all would have been 
 different." 
 
 It was noticeable that he always referred to his 
 family in the past tense, as if they belonged to a 
 life that was finished ; but Hope never lost an op 
 portunity to help him to see matters in their true 
 light, as she understood them, and to remind him 
 of his duty. She was frank, even to cruelty, in her 
 arraignment. She censured him unsparingly. She 
 ascribed sentiments to the absent parents that only 
 a tender-hearted girl s fancy could conceive. 
 
 At last she won from him a reluctant promise 
 that he would go back, 
 
 " But I won t go empty-handed. I am going to 
 take back some money that I have earned by the 
 sweat of my brow," said Tom. 
 
 It happened that about this time Mr. Abbott 
 was in need of a book-keeper and time-keeper in his 
 nursery, a happy combination of indoor and outdoor 
 
A NEWSPAPER ITEM. 245 
 
 service quite to Tom s taste, and he decided to 
 apply for the place. 
 
 He put on the suit of clothes he had worn when 
 he came to the ranch, which had been cleaned and 
 pressed by Hope s skillful hands, and went out to 
 exchange a few words with the boys about some 
 errands he was to do for them in the village, then 
 started down the road. 
 
 As he reached the bridge he heard a faint cry, 
 and turned to see Hope following him, with a news 
 paper in her hand, and a face full of distress. 
 
 " Oh, Tom ! They did care," she said, extending 
 the paper to him, with a look of compassion. 
 
 The paragraph to which she pointed read as fol 
 lows : 
 
 Matthew Bateman, a well known capitalist, died of 
 apoplexy yesterday afternoon at three o clock, in his 
 
 office in Block. His death was undoubtedly the 
 
 direct result of business troubles which have been harass 
 ing him for the last year. Although he was a large 
 real-estate owner, he had become entangled in some un 
 fortunate speculations, and it is rumored that he died 
 insolvent. 
 
 Mr. Bateman s family consisted of a wife and one 
 son. Several months ago the latter disappeared, but as it 
 was believed he had taken passage upon some ship bound 
 for a foreign port, the matter was not made public. 
 Subsequently, however, it was learned that he went out 
 in a sailboat on the night of the memorable of Jan 
 uary, and the recent discovery of the remnants of the 
 boat thrown upon the east shore of the bay leaves no doubt 
 as to the young man s untimely fate. This circumstance 
 
246 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 adds to the melancholy situation of the unfortunate wife 
 and mother, who has never left her bed since the day of 
 her son s disappearance. 
 
 " I must take the next train. I must go to the 
 city at once," said Tom huskily. 
 
 Then he turned and put his arms around Hope, 
 and drew her to him and kissed her as he might 
 have kissed his own little sister, had she been 
 spared to him. 
 
 " Good-by, dear," he said. " Whatever I am 
 if I ever amount to anything I owe it all to 
 you." 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE PRODIGAL SON. 
 
 IN the great house on California Street in San 
 Francisco, all was changed. Passers-by looked at 
 its neglected garden, its closed blinds and doors, 
 and the heavy folds of crape hanging from the 
 front door-knob, recalling the days when a pom 
 pous man of affairs came and went with the regu 
 larity of clockwork ; when the street before it was 
 alive with carriages waiting upon afternoon recep 
 tions and evening parties ; when a richly dressed 
 woman passed up and down the steps with gracious 
 dignity, and a merry boy ran in and out. 
 
 In a darkened room above, a woman, white as 
 the soft wraps folded about her, was lying on her 
 bed. Her hair, sprinkled with gray, was drawn 
 smoothly back from her sharpened temples, and her 
 thin hands, folded listlessly together, were destitute 
 of ring or ornament. 
 
 " It makes my heart ache just to look at her ! " 
 sighed a maid, Annette, to her fellow-servitor, 
 James, in the hallway. 
 
 " She s a shadder ! " said James sententiously. 
 
 " And to think of the pretty bloom she always 
 had in her cheeks, and her hair that was a pleasure 
 
248 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 to do up, it was so soft, and shiny, and wavy ; 
 and her silks, and laces, and velvets, and diamonds, 
 and sealskins, all packed away under lock and key. 
 Oh, the trouble that s come on this house! " cried 
 Annette, appealing to the stolid James for sympa 
 thy. " The master dead in the room below ; mas 
 ter Tom gone, and she a-following them as fast as 
 ever she can. It s enough to wring a body s 
 heart." 
 
 "All folks has their thrubbles, but it do seem 
 the Lord is after sinding more than its share an 
 this house," remarked James dryly. 
 
 A feeble voice was faintly calling Annette s 
 name. She hastened to obey the summons, and 
 found Mrs. Bateman propped up on one arm, a 
 feverish flush in her cheeks, and her eyes bright 
 with anxious expectation. She was trying to 
 look through a doorway leading into the adjoining 
 room. 
 
 " Is everything ready, Annette ? Is the table 
 set in there as usual ? You know he may come to 
 night." 
 
 " Everything, Mrs. Bateman." 
 
 " You remembered the anchovies and the sand 
 wiches, and the cup of hot coffee over the gas ? " 
 
 "Yes, madame. Please lie down. Everything 
 will be all right if he comes." 
 
 Tears were trickling down the girl s cheeks as 
 she gently forced the invalid down, re-arranging 
 her pillows with a pat and stroke. In the hall 
 outside she burst out crying, sobbing so violently, 
 
THE PRODIGAL SON. 249 
 
 albeit under breath, that the sight of her sorrow 
 affected even the callous James. 
 
 " Oh, come, Miss Annette. It can t help mat 
 ters, carrying on so. What s up, anyhow ? " 
 
 " It s only the same old thing, James. The ta 
 ble all set out for master Tom in her little parlor, 
 where she used to leave a nice supper fixed up for 
 him when he stayed out late and missed his dinner. 
 Never the least difference, though I was by and 
 heard when the lawyer and Mr. Batenian broke it 
 to her last week, about the boat being cast ashore 
 and him at the bottom of the bay. I misdoubt me 
 she s losing her mind, through all this misery." 
 
 " Annette," said James slowly and with deliber 
 ation, " sure you 11 be knowin the owld proverb 
 about the bad shillin ? " 
 
 " The bad shilling ! " echoed Annette, wiping 
 her eyes with her apron, and staring at him in her 
 perplexity. " And what has the bad shilling to do 
 with my mistress and her dead ? " 
 
 " It s me, Annette, that knows the young master 
 an his thricks the bist av all," continued James 
 sagely. " It s me that s attinded an him an been 
 throdden under fut by him, as ye might say, fer 
 more years than ye ve told, me girl. Was n t it 
 him that throwed his t y locomotive at me head, 
 in a fine passion he was, though still in skirts, an 
 give me this scar here be the same token ? " 
 
 James pointed with something like pride to the 
 indistinct white line marking an old cut on his 
 forehead. 
 
250 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " An whin lie got oulder," he continued, " what 
 wid his bull-pups an game fowls an evadin the 
 law concernin thim ; an his white rats an parrots 
 an machinery an trash an divilment widout end 
 oh, it s a rare dance he s led me all alang. Shud 
 I live to the age av Methuselah I 11 niver fergit 
 the mornin I found the gopher snakes kiled up in 
 me boots, to thry me whether I d been takin a drap 
 too much on goin to bed the night afore. An the 
 illictric shock he give me alang av his new batthery 
 only last winter wud have killed a horrse, thim 
 wuz the docthor s own wurruds whin the rascal got 
 him to bring me to agin." 
 
 " I did n t think you d lay up such things, James, 
 and be counting them at this time," said Annette 
 reproachfully. " And he always so free-handed and 
 kind-hearted ; so ready and anxious to make it up 
 when he did anybody a harm." 
 
 " All the silver he iver flung at me cud n t put 
 from me mind the slimy touch av thim snakes, ner 
 restore me standin in the eyes av the widdy Mc- 
 Kinstry, her that has the f oine account down at 
 the Hibernia, since he jerked off me wig wid a 
 fishhook the day I wuz settin beside her in her cozy 
 garden," replied James with severity. " No, no, 
 it s me that knows the b y better than none other. 
 But as for countin his sins, my dear, there s not 
 a day ner hour but what I go over thim, an wid as 
 good a heart as if I d be a-tellin the virtues av 
 the saints." 
 
 " I d like to know what your queer talk means," 
 said Annette. 
 
THE PRODIGAL SON. 251 
 
 " It manes that there s somethin onnatural an 
 onrale in the dyin out av masther Tom an his divil- 
 ment. It manes that I m av the same mind wid 
 the misthriss. It wud n t surprise me any moment 
 shud masther Tom come walkin in an hit me an 
 the back, till me breath wuz knocked out av me. 
 Ye know the sayin as to the kind av payple that 11 
 niver be drowned ? " 
 
 " Out upon you and your sayings ! " cried little 
 Annette, forgetful for the moment of the time and 
 hour. " Oh, you wicked, hard-hearted man ! If 
 ever a ghost came back to haunt any one, mas 
 ter Tom s ghost ought to come after you this min 
 ute." 
 
 " There s some one openin the front door," 
 said James. " I d betther be seem who it may 
 be." 
 
 He started down the stairs, but as he reached 
 the first landing he gave a startled exclamation, 
 echoed by Annette a moment later. For slowly 
 mounting the steps there came Tom Bateman ; 
 silent and grave, stepping lightly and carefully, the 
 old joyous bound forgotten, the light-hearted, boy 
 ish look forever gone from his face. Passing 
 them by, unheeding, he went straight to the quiet 
 chamber where his mother was lying. 
 
 " Mother ! Poor little mother ! " 
 
 " Oh, Tom ! " 
 
 There was never any need of explanation be 
 tween these two. From this sacred hour in which 
 they mingled their tears over the dead father and 
 
252 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 husband lying below, the man so little understood 
 by the one, so thoughtlessly neglected by the other, 
 trivial misunderstandings were swept away. In 
 the new light that had come upon him the son re 
 called unnumbered deeds of tender remembrance 
 and forethought received at the hands of both par 
 ents in bygone days. 
 
 " But, Tom, you have come into a heritage of 
 care," said the mother at length. " The estate is 
 badly involved. Your father died a poor man. 
 We have nothing, nothing at all. This bed I lie 
 upon may be taken away to-morrow. For me it 
 does not matter ; it is not probable that I shall live 
 long ; but you, poor boy ! " 
 
 " Mother, you shall get well ! " said the young 
 man, some of his old spirit returning. "As for 
 me, since I went away I liave found a richer in 
 heritance than father could have left me, if his 
 bank account had been increased a hundred-fold." 
 
 " Found an inheritance ! A rich inheritance ? 
 I don t understand, Tom." 
 
 He held out his hands, browned and calloused 
 with labor. He bared his right arm, where the 
 muscle stood out like a cable. He stood up, tall 
 and strong and resolute before her. 
 
 " I have found out myself," he said. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 HOPE S EXPERIMENT. 
 
 IN the early days of her rose-growing, Hope had 
 tried a little experiment in rose culture. 
 
 One day she plucked two wild roses, and carrying 
 them to the darkest of her red roses in the rose 
 garden, held each of them over an open blossom 
 and tapped them gently, stirring the stamens with 
 a blade of wild grass, so that the pollen fell in a 
 fine golden shower. Then she dusted the same 
 roses, a second time, with pollen from the pink 
 climbing roses by the house, and when she had 
 finished she marked the roses on the bush with bits 
 of thread of different colors. 
 
 Three months later, when the vessels of the latter 
 were a glowing vermilion, she gathered them and 
 planted their contents in a corner of the boys cold 
 frame. 
 
 At last, to her joy, first one tiny red leaf and 
 then another pushed their way through the ground, 
 and in a short time a row of trim little plants re 
 warded her patience. 
 
 It seemed as if these plants would never bloom. 
 Again and again Hope searched them over to find 
 the promise of a bud, but for a long time in vain. 
 
254 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " You lazy vagrants ! " she exclaimed, one morn 
 ing. " You worthless, indolent paupers ! I ve the 
 greatest mind in the world to dig you up, root and 
 branch, and burn you." 
 
 " What s that, my girl ? " cried a pleasant voice, 
 and Hope looked up to find Dr. John watching 
 her. 
 
 " Some lazy roses, Dr. John," she answered, a 
 little shamefacedly. " See how large and hearty 
 they are, yet never a bud have they shown yet, 
 and I m particularly interested in them, doctor. 
 I wouldn t care so much if they d do something; 
 no, not if they bore roses as black as a coal ! " 
 
 After this Dr. John kept an eye to that especial 
 row of roses, however. At length Hope s wish was 
 gratified, but one plant after another developed 
 common pink roses, identical with the pink climber 
 beside the house. 
 
 There was one of the seedlings, the largest and 
 most vigorous of all, which obstinately refused to 
 blossom. Over this plant, unknown to each other, 
 Hope and the doctor kept a vigilant watch. 
 
 Winter passed, and spring arrived. Early in 
 March a small green bud appeared on this bush, 
 which grew larger and larger, day by day. It was 
 really a very absurd little bud, and so were the mul 
 titude of others which soon appeared to keep it com 
 pany. They were fat and clumsy, and wrapped 
 in homely coats of the darkest green, which kept 
 jealous guard over their contents, letting not the 
 tiniest rift disclose the close-folded petals within. 
 
HOPE S EXPERIMENT. 255 
 
 During* the fifth spring they spent at Home Eaneh, 
 it happened that early one March morning, while the 
 hills still cast their grateful shadow over the place, 
 Hope, running down from the house to wage war 
 upon some voracious slugs before washing the 
 breakfast dishes, met the doctor coming up from 
 below. Both of them stopped, amazed, and viewed 
 the rosebush with awed and wondering eyes. 
 
 For lo ! A miracle had been wrought in the 
 night, and poised upon the topmost branch was a 
 superb and beauteous bloom. 
 
 Hope s scornful challenge to the bush to produce 
 a " black rose " had been answered in a startling 
 manner, for there before her was certainly the 
 blackest rose ever seen. It was large and glob 
 ular in form, and each curved petal about the outer 
 margin was edged with vivid carmine, deepening to 
 ruby and deepest maroon, while the heart of the 
 flower was a velvety black, which seemed neverthe 
 less aglow with deep flame tints. 
 
 All the air around seemed to pulsate with its 
 rich perfume. 
 
 "Oh, I never imagined anything could be so 
 beautiful ! " exclaimed Hope, with one deep-drawn 
 breath. 
 
 44 It is matchless ! " declared the doctor, scarcely 
 less excited than she. "But where did you get it, 
 Hope ? Out with your secret ! " 
 
 "I bred it myself," answered the young girl 
 proudly. " I did n t tell anybody what I was doing 
 for fear they d laugh at me, and all the others 
 turned out so commonplace," explained Hope. 
 
256 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Laugh at you ! " repeated Dr. John with feeling. 
 " My little girl, I believed you have achieved a 
 very rare distinction : one of which many foreign 
 personages of rank would feel proud, and which 
 would be regarded as a very important exploit b}^ 
 people who make a business of breeding flowers. 
 But what are you doing ? Why, Hope, how could 
 you?" 
 
 For the young girl had raised her scissors, and 
 with one quick movement the severed flower lay in 
 her outstretched hand. 
 
 " Father must see it while it is fresh. You 
 know the ground is wet and he cannot very well 
 come to it. There are plenty of buds left on the 
 bush." 
 
 This little act of daughterly devotion touched the 
 doctor. That was always the way at Plome Ranch. 
 The best of everything was carried to father, just 
 as all the little worries and discouragements were 
 scrupulously kept from him. 
 
 The invalid was at his accustomed post, in the 
 great easy-chair out in front, where it was always 
 wheeled on fair days, when he did not go to or 
 chard or vineyard. His eyes brightened with 
 pleasure as Hope laid the beautiful rose in his right 
 hand, after first lifting it to his face that he might 
 inhale the perfume. 
 
 Dr. John told him the story of Hope s experi 
 ment, and Mr. Austin smiled proudly on his young 
 daughter. 
 
 " You must name it, little woman," said the 
 
HOPE S EXPERIMENT. 257 
 
 doctor. "Here is a chance to make your name 
 immortal. Think of sending your name down 
 through the ages as the sponsor of such a flower !" 
 
 To his surprise Hope shook her head, then bowed 
 it until it rested on her father s shoulder, while one 
 arm passed around his neck. 
 
 " If I might I would like to give it my 
 mother s name," she replied softly. 
 
 Mr. Austin s eye moistened. He spoke for the 
 first time in many days in Dr. John s presence, 
 and although his voice was husky, his utterance 
 was clearer than they had known it to be since his 
 attack. 
 
 " The Agnes Clifford," he said brokenly. 
 
 So the rose was christened, and the little family 
 rejoiced in its loveliness, while the doctor joined 
 them, little guessing the important part it was to 
 play in the working out of his own destiny. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXV. 
 
 HOPE S BLACK ROSE AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 
 
 " HOPE," said Dr. John one day in July, " have 
 you ever done anything about that wonderful black 
 rose of yours, the Agnes Clifford ? " 
 
 " I took a hundred slips from it in the spring, and 
 the most of them are nicely rooted. This fall I 
 shall take some more. I thought its being so 
 different from any that other people have here 
 there might be a sale for plants, and I should like 
 to make something directly out of the roses, to 
 make up for that time, you know. I haven t 
 let it bloom much, but it is the hardest thing to 
 stop it. I never saw such a persistent bloomer. It 
 does seem as if I am pinching off buds all the 
 time." 
 
 " A very valuable quality," remarked Dr. John 
 seriously. " All the dark red roses I can find any 
 record of are among the hybrid perpetuals, bloom 
 ing at the most but twice a year. Even a bright 
 red is a rare color among the ever-bloomers. If 
 this blooms as late as it does early, it will certainly 
 take a front rank among roses when it becomes 
 known. But to have it properly introduced, you 
 ought to put it in the hands of some leading flo 
 rist." 
 
HOPE S BLACK EOSE. 259 
 
 "I might send it to the florists I ordered the 
 most flowers from. I think they are the leading 
 rose-growers. But I should n t know how to go 
 about it," confessed Hope, frankly. 
 
 " Let me manage the correspondence for you," 
 proposed the doctor, taking out his note-book and 
 pencil. " I 11 write to them to-night. Now give 
 me the name and address of the firm." 
 
 " It is n t a firm. It is just one man," returned 
 Hope. "It is Robert L. Marshall of Philadel 
 phia." 
 
 " Robert L. Marshall ! " 
 
 Dr. John s face blanched. Martin, who was 
 near, saw his hand shake. The doctor made no 
 pretense of writing down the address. 
 
 " Robert L. Marshall. And of Philadelphia? 
 are you sure ? " he asked of Hope, and to Martin 
 there was a note of shrinking cowardice in the 
 voice that made the boy recoil. 
 
 What was there in Dr. John s past that dragged 
 its black shadow over his life, and made him terri 
 fied at the mere sound of a name ? Oh, if the doc 
 tor would only have the courage the manliness 
 to face it ! Martin watched him with a sicken 
 ing sense of shame at his weakness and fear. 
 
 " Robert L. Marshall, I am sure," replied Hope. 
 " But I can write myself, Dr. John," she added 
 quickly. " It is selfish for me to tax you when you 
 have so much to do." 
 
 Hope, too, had noticed the doctor s agitation, 
 but innocently ascribed it to a simple cause. She 
 thought he was tired and nervous. 
 
260 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Oh no, I will write, as I proposed," replied 
 Dr. John, who was himself again. " But it had 
 better go in your name. I will make a rude 
 draught of what I think ought to be said, and you 
 can copy it out in your own hand." 
 
 The next day Dr. John handed Hope the prom 
 ised letter, repeating, in a very emphatic way, his 
 desire that she should copy it out in her own hand. 
 
 She sat down at once and made a copy of the 
 letter ; but when she had finished her copy she 
 compared it with Dr. John s, and smiled at the 
 contrast. He had called his a " rough draught," 
 yet how finished and scholarly it looked beside her 
 own. What a beautiful, distinctive hand Dr. John 
 wrote, so different from any other she had ever 
 seen ! What peculiar twists and turns he gave to 
 certain letters, yet how symmetrical the page 
 looked ! 
 
 With a willful little nod of her head, she folded 
 up Dr. John s letter, enclosed it in an envelope, 
 sealed and directed it, and gave it to Martin to 
 mail. 
 
 Days of anxiety, alternated with pleased antici 
 pation, passed by. One, two, three, four, five, six ! 
 The letter must have reached its destination. 
 Then she counted the days again : one, two, three, 
 four, five, six, seven ! On the thirteenth day after 
 the letter was dispatched, she appealed to Dr. 
 John. 
 
 " Oh, Dr. John, do you think he will trust the 
 description, or will I have to send a rose or plant 
 
HOPE S BLACK EOSE. 261 
 
 to him?" she cried. "And if he should make it 
 one of the novelties of the season, and let me sup 
 ply the orders, would n t it be grand ? But, doc 
 tor ! Who are those gentlemen coming up the 
 path ? See ! the taller one looks like a soldier, but 
 he walks with a cane and limps. I never saw them 
 before." 
 
 But Dr. John, after one hasty look at the new 
 comers, vanished without a word, betaking himself 
 in the direction of the house, and Hope was left 
 alone, to face them. 
 
 They were coming along the garden path that 
 the doctor had so often trod, looking at the roses 
 on either side as they advanced. As they reached 
 the place where the young girl stood, and beheld the 
 bush beside which she loitered, still proudly up 
 holding its wealth of bloom, the elder gentleman 
 stopped, electrified by the sight, while the younger 
 looked with even more interest at the pure-faced 
 girl. 
 
 " Is this the rose ? " asked the elder man. 
 
 " Sir, you are " began the blushing girl with 
 dignity. 
 
 "Robert L. Marshall, of Philadelphia. And 
 this is my young nephew, Lieutenant Hobart Mar 
 shall, fresh from West Point. You see I am here 
 to answer your letter in person. You are Miss 
 Hope Austin, I suppose ? " and he touched his hat, 
 with a stiff, military salute. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Hope, simply. 
 
 " I happen to be one of the veterans who are 
 
262 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 gathering here this month," explained Mr. Mar 
 shall, " so we must hold the Grand Army responsi 
 ble for my promptness ; though I am not sure but 
 the rose would justify three thousand miles of 
 travel. It is magnificent." 
 
 He did not tell the girl that he had quite made 
 up his mind to forego the Grand Army Keunion 
 that year, but had packed up his luggage within 
 a couple of hours from the time her letter had 
 arrived, and traveled night and day to reach the 
 Western Coast. 
 
 He merely drew one of the roses toward him, 
 and studied it with the eye of a connoisseur. 
 
 "And is it really new?" asked the trembling 
 girl. 
 
 " It is entirely new, to the best of my judgment," 
 replied the veteran. 
 
 " I am so glad," said Hope, with a happy smile. 
 " Will you walk up to the house, Mr. Marshall ? 
 My father is an invalid, but he will be glad to see 
 you." 
 
 They passed on up to the house, where, strangely 
 enough, there was no sign of the doctor. Mr. 
 Austin sat outside, in his easy-chair, and Martin 
 and Ned were both there, resting in the cool shade 
 of the pepper-trees. 
 
 The visitors took in the situation with ready 
 tact, and the elder talked with Hope and her 
 father, accepting the invalid s stammering mono 
 syllables and weak gestures of assent with as grave 
 and unquestioning comprehension as if they had 
 
HOPE S BLACK ROSE. 263 
 
 been the most finished speeches. The lieutenant 
 entertained Ned and Martin with amusing anec 
 dotes of his academical experiences, or drew from 
 the boys information regarding their own life and 
 work. During a little lull in the conversation 
 they overheard the elder gentleman say to 
 Hope : 
 
 " Miss Austin, you write a very clear and beau 
 tiful hand for a young lady. Permit me to con 
 gratulate you on it." 
 
 Was it only Martin s fancy, or was the veteran 
 eying Hope keenly from beneath his shaggy eye 
 brows ? 
 
 " I am sorry I must confess I did n t write 
 it myself," replied the girl, flushing. 
 
 " Ah ! One of your brothers, I suppose, con 
 ducts the business correspondence of the ranch ? " 
 
 " No, sir. Oar friend Dr. John drew up the 
 letter, to give me an idea of what I ought to 
 write. I liked the looks of his letter so much bet 
 ter than my own that I sent it." 
 
 The lieutenant gave a light, boyish laugh of ap 
 proval at this frank confession. His uncle rebuked 
 his levity with a glance. 
 
 " Dr. John ! A peculiar name. What sort of a 
 man is Dr. John, my dear, and where does he 
 live?" 
 
 "Just across The Brook," answered Hope. "As 
 to what sort of man he is, I don t think any one 
 person could tell you. You should ask the whole 
 district. He is just the kindest and most thought 
 ful and generous " 
 
264 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 The visitor cut her short with another keen 
 glance from under his shaggy eyebrows. 
 
 " What type of man is he physically ? Is he 
 tall or short, light or dark ? " 
 
 " You must see him for yourself. He is like 
 other men, and unlike them," answered Hope. 
 
 " How long has he lived here ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don t know, sir. Ever so long." 
 
 "How far does this famous doctor s practice 
 extend ? " 
 
 " He has calls from all over the country," said 
 Ned, proudly. " All up and down the valley, and 
 from the bay to ten miles back into the mountains. 
 He s been here so many years, you know; and 
 people think they can t get well without him." 
 
 " Ever go down as far as Oakland ? " 
 
 " Not as a rule, sir." 
 
 "Ah ! And I suppose he makes all his purchases 
 at one of the villages around here. Gets his horse 
 shod here, patronizes a country butcher, a country 
 tailor, grocer, druggist, deposits his money in 
 some grangers bank, eh ? " 
 
 There was something so peculiar and sinister in 
 this question, following as it did upon the others, 
 that. Ned looked keenly at the gentleman, as if 
 challenging his right to make such inquiries re 
 garding the doctor. 
 
 Martin flung himself into the breach. 
 
 " Yes, sir," he stoutly replied. " Dr. John puts 
 
 all his money in the B bank," naming a little 
 
 village several miles away. " Goes there regularly 
 
HOPE S BLACK ROSE. 265 
 
 every month. Says lie wouldn t trust another 
 bank in the State." 
 
 It was the first deliberate falsehood that had ever 
 passed the boy s lips. 
 
 The visitors arose to go. 
 
 " I must see you again about your rose, Miss 
 Hope," said the older man, kindly. " I shall be 
 in this vicinity for some time." 
 
 Martin heaved a sigh of relief as the two figures 
 crossed the bridge. If that were only the last of 
 them ! But no I The tall gentleman with the hawk 
 like eyes had said that they would remain in the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 What their motive was the boy could not guess, 
 but well he knew that it boded no good to Dr. 
 John. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 MARTIN TRIES TO SAVE DR. JOHN. 
 
 MARTIN was not the only one who speculated 
 over the strange motives that brought Colonel Mar 
 shall (for they soon learned that was his title, hon 
 orably won in the war of the Rebellion), to the 
 little country inn, together with his handsome 
 nephew. 
 
 At the village the colonel and his nephew posed 
 as enthusiastic anglers. When they were not on 
 the porch of the little hotel or loitering around the 
 post-office, they were sure to be somewhere up The 
 Brook, equipped with rod and line and fishing 
 baskets which they oftenest brought back empty. 
 They frequently called at Home Ranch, and often 
 made errands there for fruit and milk, to eke out 
 their noon-day luncheon. 
 
 Meanwhile the few who knew him best could not 
 fail to note Dr. John s strange behavior. 
 
 Instead of setting out upon his routine of pro 
 fessional visits with the regularity of clockwork, 
 after his usual custom, he seemed to vary his hours 
 every day, and sometimes started out in early 
 morning, sometimes at noon, and sometimes not 
 until late in the afternoon; he invariably drove 
 
MARTIN TRIES TO SAVE DR. JOHN. 267 
 
 along the highway at mad speed, while he shrank 
 back into his buggy, looking to neither right nor 
 left. 
 
 Martin alone understood. The doctor was in 
 hiding. Had he not seen a face at Dr. John s 
 upper windows, stealthily watching the two anglers 
 as they lounged up-stream ? Had he not seen Dr. 
 John hurry out to the stable and drive off on a mad 
 race over the country, as soon the two men disap 
 peared from sight ? Why did the doctor come over 
 to see them only when the colonel and his nephew 
 had gone to the city ? And why did he ask him 
 Martin to bring his mail from the post-office ? 
 Why did the hunted look on the doctor s face 
 deepen day after day, until he reminded the im 
 aginative boy of some wild animal brought to 
 bay? 
 
 A scrap of conversation which the boy overheard 
 one day served to confirm his worst suspicions. 
 He had followed Colonel Marshall and Lieutenant 
 Hobart up-stream to give them a basket of lus 
 cious apricots, which they had engaged on their 
 way. He heard their voices floating out of a leafy 
 covert that overhung a deep pool, famous for trout. 
 The first word that he caught was the doctor s 
 name. Martin was a young fellow who would have 
 scorned the very suggestion of eavesdropping, but 
 there is such a thing as over-riding one s dearest 
 principles for the sake of a friend. 
 He stood still and listened. 
 " Two weeks time already gone, and not so much 
 
268 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 as a square look at this Dr. John yet ! " The colo 
 nel spoke impatiently. 
 
 " Yet you felt sure he was the man, that day we 
 met him on the road, fast as he drove, and with 
 his hat pulled down over his face," said the lieu 
 tenant. 
 
 " Sure ? Of course I m sure," insisted the colo 
 nel testily. " I tell you I should recognize that 
 handwriting if I came across it on a papyrus in an 
 Egyptian tomb. It s unmistakable." 
 
 " Then why don t you go straight to his house, 
 uncle, and corner him there ? " 
 
 "There you have me, Hobart," confessed the 
 colonel. " There is an element of uncertainty. 
 What could I do, what could I say, if it should 
 not be the right man after all ? " 
 
 " I don t see anything for it, Uncle Robert, but 
 for you to come down with an attack of the gout, 
 and send for him ; though how you could be justi 
 fied in contracting it on such fare as we have at 
 that snuffy old tavern " 
 
 " And there is the danger that at any moment 
 he may take fright and make off to Mexico or 
 Japan or South America, putting me to endless 
 expense and trouble," pursued the colonel, seri 
 ously. " For now that I m on his track at last, 
 I 11 never give up until I ve got him." 
 
 But here Martin, who had heard quite enough, 
 made his appearance, and the conversation changed. 
 
 Was it any wonder that Martin looked forward 
 with apprehension to the time that was coming for 
 
MARTIN TRIES TO SAVE DR. JOHN. 269 
 
 that dreaded semi-yearly drive to Oakland? He 
 had become quite hardened to it by this time, and 
 looked upon his part in the errand as a disagree 
 able duty he was glad to discharge, but he felt un 
 accountably disturbed as he thought of starting out 
 under the colonel s sharp inspection. 
 
 Yet he had not the heart to show any reluctance 
 when the doctor one day hailed him, and said : 
 
 " Well, Martin, ready for a long ride to-morrow? " 
 
 "Why, certainly. Of course, Dr. John," stam 
 mered the young fellow. 
 
 " I want to make an early start, six o clock at 
 the latest. Will you be on hand ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Martin, secretly hoping that 
 he might wake up sick the next morning, that Dr. 
 John might have an urgent call from some patient 
 in another county, that his horse might cast a shoe, 
 anything to prevent the engagement from being 
 kept. 
 
 But none of these fatalities occurred. They 
 started at the appointed time and sped away over 
 the smooth road leading city-ward. 
 
 As they reached the outskirts of the town, 
 Martin, hitherto torn by conflicting anxieties and 
 doubts, came to a new resolution. 
 
 He would warn the doctor. The time for re 
 serve, for all false delicacy, had gone by. The 
 doctor must be brought to a realizing sense of his 
 position and the danger in which he stood. It 
 would be a sin to keep silence any longer. 
 
 But how difficult it is for a person with any 
 
270 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 delicacy or sentiment to talk plainly to a friend, 
 and on such a subject ! Six separate times the boy 
 nerved himself to his task, and six separate times 
 subsided into silence, with the fateful words trem 
 bling on his lips. He moved so uneasily upon his 
 seat, and turned suddenly upon the Doctor so many 
 times, only to turn away as suddenly, that Dr. John, 
 observing his pale face and agitation, was stirred 
 to a professional interest. 
 
 " What s the matter, Martin ? Cramps ? Been 
 eating too many green apples ? " 
 
 Now it is not a pleasant thing to have your solici 
 tude for a friend s spiritual welfare construed into 
 an attack of indigestion, by the object of your anx 
 iety, and Martin was half inclined to abandon 
 Dr. John to his fate. But he remembered all that 
 they owed the doctor, and pondered the colonel s 
 savage threat, and nerved himself for one more 
 effort. 
 
 " Oh, I m well enough. You you need n t 
 mind me, Dr. John. But I wanted to speak to you 
 about a matter of the greatest importance. And 
 please don t drive so fast, Dr. John, and don t be 
 offended with me for speaking about it. It s been 
 such a long time, you know " 
 
 Martin had fairly launched out at last, and there 
 is no doubt that his momentum would have carried 
 him to the point at which he was aiming, but an 
 unexpected interruption occurred at that moment. 
 
 A stout farmer, who was returning from town, 
 on espying Dr. John reined up his horses, and be- 
 
MAETIN TEIES TO SAVE DE. JOHN. 271 
 
 gan to ask his advice about his wife, who had been 
 ailing seriously for weeks past. This appeal to the 
 doctor s professional knowledge banished the care 
 worn look he had worn, and quickened his gener 
 ous instinct of helpfulness. When the farmer had 
 driven on again Dr. John turned pleasantly to 
 Martin. 
 
 " You were saying something, Martin. Of course 
 you can speak to me freely. Don t be afraid of 
 offending me." 
 
 Martin gave one searching look at the kind and 
 honest face turned upon him, and his courage fled. 
 How could he tell a man who looked like that, that 
 he knew him for a detected criminal, that spies 
 were even now upon his track, that prison gates 
 yawned before him ! 
 
 "Well, Martin, what is wrong?" urged the 
 doctor. 
 
 " Oh, it s only nothing but Beauty. She s 
 got a sort of boil on her neck. We don t know 
 whether to open it or poultice it " 
 
 The absurdity of such an appeal, following such 
 a prelude, struck Dr. John so forcibly that he 
 laughed outright. 
 
 " Poultice it by all means, if Beauty will submit 
 to it. I assure you, Martin, that never use the 
 knife where flaxseed will do the business, is one 
 of the most solemn tenets of the medical profes 
 sion." 
 
 Martin was red with wrath at himself, at Dr. 
 John, and at the circumstances that had conspired 
 to move him to make a goose of himself. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 DR. JOHN IS BROUGHT TO BAY. 
 
 MARTIN S wrath subsided and Dr. John grew 
 serious as he reined his horse in a new place, a 
 couple of blocks back of the business centre. 
 
 "Here, Martin," he said, handing the boy a 
 stout leather purse. " Go to the Oakland Savings 
 Bank this time. Have it made out to the same 
 person : do you remember ? and give in any name 
 you choose ; better a woman s. Don t wait a mo 
 ment after you are through." 
 
 Everything favored Martin ; it was half an hour 
 after the time of opening and there were few peo 
 ple there. The money was paid in, and counted, 
 and handed over for deposit in the vault. The 
 draft was made out and about to be placed in Mar 
 tin s hands, when an electric bell sounded. 
 
 " Just excuse me a moment," said the clerk who 
 was waiting upon Martin, and he stepped into an 
 inner office. 
 
 The boy s keen ears caught the sound of low 
 voices in consultation there. He was half disposed 
 to slip out of the building unperceived, but his feet 
 seemed frozen to the spot. His mind was a blank. 
 He wished with all his heart Dr. John had in- 
 
DR. JOHN IS BROUGHT TO BAY. 273 
 
 structed him as to what he should do in case of se 
 rious trouble, for he felt as incapable of intelligent 
 reasoning or action as a babe. 
 
 There was a stir in the glass office. The clerk 
 reappeared, accompanied by the president of the 
 bank and oh, horror ! Colonel Marshall. 
 
 Colonel Marshall coolly possessed himself of the 
 draft, and fixed his hawk-like eyes upon Martin. 
 
 " Now, young man," he said, " make a clean 
 breast of it and save us further trouble. What 
 person gave you this money ? " 
 
 " Nancy Brown," replied Martin promptly, loyal 
 to his trust, although he shook from head to foot. 
 
 " Nancy Brown !" repeated the colonel, sa 
 tirically. " This reads Susan Brown. 
 
 " I mean I meant to say Susan," insisted the 
 wretched Martin. " They she sometimes calls 
 herself 4 Nancy, you know." 
 
 " Oh, she does, does she ? " commented the colo 
 nel with a very uncomfortable emphasis on the pro 
 noun. 
 
 " Now, Martin," he urged, speaking kindly and 
 persuasively, "own up that Dr. John sent you, 
 or look me in the eye and tell me that he did 
 not." 
 
 " I can t tell you that he did, when he did not, 
 can I ? " persisted the lad, trying hard to meet the 
 keen eyes and ignobly failing. 
 
 There was a brief silence. Martin felt that 
 shame hung out her flaming banners in his cheek, 
 but he pursued his momentary advantage. 
 
274 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " If you will please to give me that paper, sir ! 
 Mrs. Brown is waiting for it and she is in a hurry." 
 
 With a quick movement he caught up the paper, 
 as the colonel s fingers unwillingly relinquished 
 their hold upon it. He walked with dignity to the 
 door, the way seeming interminably long. Once 
 outside, he dashed down the steps and ran swiftly 
 up the street, feeling, rather than hearing, pursuers 
 at his back. 
 
 He turned into the Twelfth St. market and raced 
 through it without slackening his speed, to the as 
 tonishment of fish, vegetable, and fruit venders. 
 He turned down lanes and alleys, doubling upon 
 his own path, ran to the right, to the left, and to 
 the right again, and finally slipped down an alley 
 and out again upon the street opposite the place 
 where he had left the doctor, triumphant in having 
 eluded pursuit, the paper in his hand, joy in his 
 eye. 
 
 Just as he came in sight of the buggy, Colonel 
 Marshall and his nephew, approaching from oppo 
 site directions, closed in upon it. 
 
 " Oh, Martin ! " exclaimed Dr. John with one 
 reproachful look at the youth. 
 
 " Run to cover at last, old fellow ! " cried the 
 colonel, in a resonant voice. 
 
 The doctor s face would have moved a stone to 
 pity. Pale and silent, he stared at the colonel as 
 if there arose before him some terrible phantom of 
 the buried past. 
 
 "Yes, I knew, Marshall, knew you were here ; 
 
DR. JOHN IS BROUGHT TO BAY. 275 
 
 knew this was coming. It is useless to strive 
 against destiny." 
 
 " You knew ! And you have the face to tell me 
 so ? " sternly demanded the colonel. " Eighteen 
 years I ve been looking for you " 
 
 Lieutenant Hobart gave Martin s arm a violent 
 jerk. " Come along. You ride back with me. 
 My uncle will take care of your Dr. John, " he 
 said. 
 
 Martin resisted. 
 
 " I in going to stay here," he said doggedly, free 
 ing himself from young Marshall s grasp. 
 
 To his surprise, Dr. John seconded the lieuten 
 ant. 
 
 " Go along with him, Martin," he said decisively. 
 
 Martin had no choice but to obey. He loitered 
 long enough, however, to see the colonel get into 
 Dr. John s buggy and drive off in another direction. 
 He could see that the two men were in earnest con 
 versation, the colonel insisting upon something, the 
 doctor resisting. 
 
 Whatever Dr. John s humiliation, Martin felt a 
 miserable comfort in the reflection that he was at 
 least bearing his own share. He could not reply 
 to the lieutenant s gay sallies on the way home. 
 Young Marshall seemed in particularly happy spir 
 its, and sang, and jested, and merrily commented 
 on passing sights with a levity that disgusted Mar 
 tin as much as it exasperated him. 
 
 At last he turned savagely upon the young 
 man: "How can you be so jolly, when you ve 
 
276 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 been a witness to such a scene as that : seen your 
 uncle drag a good man yes, sir, a good man ! 
 in the dust. I don t care what you say ; I don t 
 care what the doctor s been or done when he was 
 young ; he s a good man to-day. Ask any one in 
 the valley. Ask the sick people he s made well. 
 Ask the dying he s brought back to life. Ask the 
 poor, yes, and the bad ones, and they 11 all tell 
 you there isn t one who s been so much to them. 
 And yet you, you and your uncle, come here to dig 
 up some old skeleton and disgrace him." 
 
 The lieutenant gave vent to a prolonged whis 
 tle, expressive of amazement, amusement, and a 
 dozen other sentiments. 
 
 " Martin," he said, very irrelevantly, as Martin 
 thought, " suppose you go over to the city with me 
 
 to-night. The veterans of General Post No. 
 
 1 are going to have a camp-fire, and a jolly good 
 time they always make of it. You ve never seen 
 anything of the kind, and it will liven you up." 
 
 Martin was completely nonplussed at this sin 
 gular invitation, coming under such peculiar cir 
 cumstances. In his surprise and embarrassment 
 he did what many older people have done in like 
 quandaries. He went directly counter to his own 
 inclinations, and agreed to go. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 AT THE CAMP FIRE. 
 
 MARTIN did not see the colonel when he and 
 the lieutenant took the down train that night. 
 He had a dim consciousness that not far away, on 
 the platform and in the gathering gloom, stood 
 two muffled figures, and that there was something 
 strangely familiar about them. But he asked Lieu 
 tenant Hobart no questions, and, oddly enough, 
 the light-hearted, talkative young fellow was for 
 once silent and preoccupied. 
 
 Martin himself was in no mood for merry-mak 
 ing. Only that day he had seen his best friend 
 crushed and humiliated, and borne away like a con 
 victed felon. He had told those at home something 
 of what he had been through, and had been glad to 
 escape from the gloom that had settled over the 
 little household. 
 
 He did not feel at all like seeking amusement 
 for himself. A terrible picture was before his 
 eyes, of an ill-lighted, grated cell, wherein sat a 
 man, his face buried in his hands, given over at 
 last to overwhelming despair. Whenever this figure 
 raised its face, the reproachful eyes seemed to seek 
 his own, and he heard again the doctor s sharp ex 
 clamation : " Oh, Martin ! " 
 
278 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 If he could only find out where they had put the 
 doctor, and see him for just five minutes. Then 
 he could explain to him how hard he had tried to 
 save him. A vague idea possessed him that by 
 keeping close to the lieutenant he might contrive 
 to get the ear of Colonel Marshall, and somehow 
 influence him in regard to Dr. John. 
 
 They crossed the ferry, and took seats in the 
 cable car, which bore them to their destination. 
 Still absorbed in his own thoughts, young Marshall 
 led the boy up a broad stairway, to where a couple 
 of sentinels guarded the entrance to the room occu 
 pied by the Post. 
 
 A heavy door swung open and noiselessly closed 
 behind them. They found themselves in a large 
 hall, lighted only by the glow from a great fire 
 place, where a pile of mimic logs, cunningly sur 
 rounded by gas jets, cast a ruddy light on the 
 grizzled veterans, some seated and some standing 
 in the foreground, deepening the shadows in the 
 background. 
 
 W hat a buzz of voices, fusillade of fun and bat 
 tery of jest ! The old soldiers chattered and gos 
 siped like a parcel of girls let loose from school. 
 Sometimes the conversation was confined to little 
 knots and groups; sometimes it was general, as 
 some absorbing topic of common interest was in 
 troduced, and several of the brightest speakers 
 took the floor. Occasionally it was interrupted by 
 the entrance of old comrades ; now and then it 
 ceased altogether, as all hearkened to the narration 
 
AT THE CAMP FIRE. 279 
 
 of some thrilling incident of battle, or paid the 
 tribute of silence to the mention of the gallant 
 dead. 
 
 At length, from the darkened shadows of the 
 outer circle, a tall and commanding figure arose. 
 The firelight fell full on his face, and before he 
 commenced to speak, Martin recognized Colonel 
 Marshall. In spite of the young fellow s preju 
 dice he could not help a thrill of admiration at the 
 veteran s soldierly bearing, his intelligent, aristo 
 cratic old face, the resounding voice that pene 
 trated the hall, commanding instant attention. 
 
 " Comrades, the veterans of the Rebellion are 
 answering a new roll call. Their ranks on earth 
 are thinning faster than ever before shot and shell. 
 Each year that we come together we miss familiar 
 faces. Advancing years only serve to strengthen 
 the ties that bind us together, and the memory of 
 those who fought and bled and fell beside us in the 
 conflict of twenty odd years gone by. 
 
 " Many of us are united by ties antedating the 
 commencement of the great struggle. The com 
 pany in which I enlisted, at the breaking out of 
 the war, was largely recruited from the students of 
 a college in the town where I was born. Some of 
 us were already nearing thirty ; many had just 
 attained their majority. Even in the preparatory 
 department, half-grown lads, fired with patriotic 
 zeal, came forward to enlist, and then returned to 
 school, crestfallen at being disqualified by lack of 
 years. 
 
280 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " You all remember Jack Sherwood, the major 
 of our regiment. A few who are here to-night will 
 recall him as one of those disappointed, humiliated 
 boys. But Jack was not to be daunted in his 
 resolve to fight for the preservation of our Union. 
 He forsook school, plunged heart and soul into the 
 study of medicine, and in less than a year came 
 down to the battle front as assistant surgeon. 
 
 " You know how he worked in the field, as cool 
 and brave as any soldier in the corps, giving food 
 and drink to the wounded, and carrying them to 
 places of safety, with bullets whizzing about him. 
 You remember how he stepped into the ranks the 
 day he was eighteen, and rose by degrees to lieu 
 tenant, captain, and major. But you don t know 
 that he might have been your colonel, and I re 
 mained where I was beneath him, if he had n t told 
 a lot of stuff about me, that day we made our last 
 desperate charge at Chattanooga, and insisted on 
 my being promoted over his head. 
 
 " Some of you know what happened afterwards : 
 how he came out of the army in feeble health, and 
 tried to take up the practice of his profession 
 when neither mind nor body was able to sustain 
 the effort. It was like Major Sherwood, when he 
 found himself a broken-down man, when he saw no 
 future before him except as a physical wreck, an 
 incumbrance, as he thought, to family and friends, 
 to steal away from those who would have found 
 their best happiness in caring for him, to go off 
 among strangers to suffer in silence. . . . There 
 
AT THE CAMP FIRE. 281 
 
 were some of us who could n t give him up. There 
 is not a State in the Union, scarcely a town of any 
 size, where some of us, at one time or another, have 
 not made inquiries for him. When California was 
 designated as the meeting-place of the Grand Army 
 this year, advancing age and business cares weighed 
 so heavily upon me that I at first thought I could 
 not come. One day a letter that I received caused 
 me to change my mind." 
 
 The colonel s speech had all along been delivered 
 in a peculiarly jerky and abrupt fashion. As he 
 neared the close he seemed to have difficulty in 
 framing what he wished to say. His ringing utter 
 ances, designed for the ears of the assembled com 
 pany of veterans, were interspersed with sotto voce 
 speeches of a mysterious character : 
 
 " I ran him to ground at last, and when he found 
 he could n t get away, he (Be still, can t you !) 
 gave up. But it was only by a subterfuge I got 
 him here to-night. (No, I don t let you go so easy, 
 old fellow !) And I know there s not a man here 
 (Oh, yes, I 11 except you) who will not rejoice to 
 meet once more the most gallant, unselfish (No, 
 you don t choke me off now !) modest hero that 
 
 the Pennsylvania th ever numbered among her 
 
 officers." 
 
 The colonel s voice rose to a shout with the last 
 words. 
 
 " Quick, there ! Strike a light ! Head him off ! 
 He s making for the door. Lock it ! He 11 get 
 away from us yet." 
 
282 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 A dozen lights were struck. The chandeliers 
 flashed up, a blaze of illumination. There was a 
 cry, 
 
 " Hurrah for the major ! " 
 
 Everybody who was sitting down had jumped up 
 and was pressing forward or trying to look over 
 somebody else s head. Martin, eager as the rest, 
 and curiously moved, he knew not why, mounted a 
 chair, so that he out-topped the tallest veterans. 
 
 And what did he see ? 
 
 Dr. John, caught in the very act of edging to 
 ward the door. Dr. John, looking like a detected 
 criminal, as his old comrades laid hold of him and 
 brought him back, reproaching him and cheering 
 him in one breath. Dr. John, called upon for a 
 speech, and starting out bravely, not to say defi 
 antly, then faltering and breaking down, as old 
 associations flooded his memory. Dr. John, pro 
 testing that he was no speech-maker, but rising to 
 the occasion, nevertheless, and giving utterance to 
 patriotic sentiments in a way that stirred the loy 
 alty of the old veterans, and made the hall resound 
 again with cheers. Dr. John, the hero of the 
 evening, whose name and praises were on every 
 tongue. 
 
 How small and mean Martin felt ! What a goose 
 and sneak and lunatic he had been ! And when the 
 doctor, his self-possession a little restored, though 
 still protesting against the extravagant honors done 
 him, catching sight of Martin, said pleasantly, " I 
 think I see a young friend of mine over there," and 
 
AT THE CAMP FIRE. 283 
 
 called the lad to his side, how proud and unworthy 
 Martin felt under the distinction. 
 
 But it was a great event for the young fellow, 
 none the less, one to be treasured and remembered 
 all his life, to be told over and over again to eager 
 listeners at home, to be dwelt upon when the dark 
 tragedy, already impending, descended upon the 
 little colony beside The Brook, 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 TROUBLE IN THE VALLEY. 
 
 THE Grand Army disbanded, and the old sol 
 diers went their separate ways, with many a cordial 
 grasp of hands and many a dimmed eye. 
 
 Before Colonel Marshall and his nephew re 
 turned to their Eastern home, they made a long call 
 at Home Ranch. 
 
 On this occasion Hope showed them a little col 
 lection of wild flowers she had pressed, that greatly 
 interested them, and the colonel made inquiries 
 about their growth and habits, which she was able 
 to answer with intelligence. 
 
 Then they walked down into the rose garden, for 
 a parting look at the " Agnes Clifford." After a 
 short period of rest the plant was again putting 
 forth a profusion of buds. 
 
 " How comes it, Miss Hope," asked the colonel, 
 " that while you have so many roses, and a number 
 of choice ones, I see that many of the standard 
 kinds are not here, and you have none of the new 
 roses that have been introduced during the last few 
 years. Did you get tired of planting them ? " 
 
 " Tired of roses ? Oh, no, no, no ! " cried Hope. 
 
 " But you felt that you had enough," suggested 
 the colonel. 
 
TROUBLE IN THE VALLEY. 285 
 
 " No, Colonel Marshall," replied Hope, looking 
 down, while her cheeks vied in color with the most 
 brilliant of her crimson roses ; " that was n t it at 
 all. Something happened that spoiled the pleasure 
 for me. I used money that I ought not to have 
 used. It was n t exactly dishonest, but it was 
 wretchedly mean, and it made lots of trouble. I 
 felt as if I could never buy another rose. Ned 
 wanted to, but I would n t let him." 
 
 " Why, why ! " exclaimed the colonel, hardly 
 knowing whether to be most touched or amused by 
 this confession, while Lieutenant Marshall did not 
 take his eyes from the charming, downcast face. 
 
 " We will make that all right," pursued the colo 
 nel, breaking the awkward silence. " You don t 
 need to pay out money for them. You have just 
 been showing me something as good as gold with 
 any Eastern florist." 
 
 " The black rose ? " asked Hope. 
 
 "No, my- dear. That is a much more important 
 matter, and I shall not make you an offer in regard 
 to it until I am home and can consult with my head 
 gardener. I mean your California wild-flowers, 
 seeds and plants. I would n t ask for any better 
 currency. Why can t you send them to me ? " 
 
 " I should be very glad to do it," replied Hope 
 warmly. 
 
 Then the colonel reverted to the subject of the 
 black rose. 
 
 " Which would you like best, a specified sum 
 outright, or a royalty on all the plants that are 
 sold?" 
 
286 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " A royalty ? " repeated Hope inquiringly. 
 
 " Yes, a royalty. That means a certain per 
 centage on all the sales, just as an author has a 
 royalty on a book. Only, in this case, if you 
 preferred the royalty, we should of course pay you 
 a small sum outright, for there is no question as to 
 the value of your rose, and there always is a very 
 serious question as to whether a new book is worth 
 the paper it is printed on." 
 
 " I think it would be very nice, and fair besides, 
 to have the royalty," said Hope. 
 
 " Very well," said the colonel, looking pleased. 
 " Now, Miss Hope, will you do me the kindness to 
 accept a couple of small articles you will find very 
 useful in your work among the flowers ?" 
 
 Timid as a boy, yet with the stately courtesy of 
 a gentleman of the old school, he drew a couple of 
 small parcels from his pocket, and brought to light 
 a pair of rubber gloves and some rose shears, which 
 cut and held the rose at the same time, and which 
 were destined to save Hope s tender hands from 
 many a thorn. 
 
 The lieutenant lingered a little longer. Al 
 though he was a genuine West Point boy, who had 
 passed unscathed through a dozen flirtations, this 
 little maid, with her sweet face and untutored ways, 
 had somehow won upon him as no other girl or 
 woman had ever done. 
 
 " Miss Hope," he said in a low voice, " may I 
 shall I come back next year ? " 
 
 The sixteen-year-old girl caught her breath with 
 
TROUBLE IN THE VALLEY. 287 
 
 a little gasp of surprise and terror. He was so 
 handsome, so gentle-mannered, so amiable, such a 
 thorough gentleman, every inch of him ! She did 
 not want to hurt him, and his blue eyes seemed 
 wistfully pleading with her. Then the budding 
 woman in her arose, and strengthened her to be 
 true to herself and to him. 
 
 " Not on my account, Lieutenant Marshall," she 
 said. 
 
 Why was it that at that very moment the mem 
 ory of another scene bore in upon her, and she saw, 
 in his place, a boy s tear-stained face, and heard the 
 boyish cry : 
 
 " Whatever I am if I ever amount to any 
 thing, Hope, I owe it all to you." 
 
 Two weeks later they could scarcely believe that 
 the Grand Army had come and gone, with all its 
 train of exciting incidents. Dr. John (they could 
 not call him by the name to which he was entitled, 
 nor did he urge it) seemed just the same as ever. 
 He had steadily resisted the importunities of the 
 colonel to go back with him to his Eastern home, 
 but it was noticeable that after -the departure of the 
 visitors he looked thin and worn. This was easily 
 accounted for by the prevalence of a dangerous ma 
 larial fever throughout the valley. The constant 
 demands upon him night and day, as well as the vol 
 untary aid he rendered destitute sufferers, might 
 well have taxed a stronger constitution than his. 
 
 Of course the McCrarys came down with it, just 
 when the disease had abated a little and the doctor 
 most needed rest. 
 
288 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Matters had somewhat changed at the mountain 
 ranch, since Mike McCrary started out to prove 
 himself a man. The house was in better repair 
 and better furnished. A few flowering shrubs re 
 deemed the untidy aspect of the dooryard. The 
 children went to school, and Sam, at nineteen years 
 of age, shamed into activity by Mike s example, had 
 planted a considerable acreage in vines, to which 
 he was giving indifferent care. 
 
 Nothing could make a change in the slack, inca 
 pable mother, however, and the children generally 
 patterned after her. 
 
 One of the little girls, however, was cast in a 
 different mould from the rest. She was a fair- 
 haired child of thirteen, with sad blue eyes, wherein 
 one seemed to read the story of her neglected child 
 hood. 
 
 Little Mattie, as she was called, was a gentle, 
 lovable girl, who under almost any other conditions 
 would have been a general favorite. She was a 
 diligent scholar, with pretty, lady-like ways, in not 
 able contrast to the rough manners of the others. 
 Hemmed in by every disadvantage, she had exerted 
 all her slight strength to bring some order and de 
 cency to the dirty, unkempt house. Mike, striv 
 ing all the while with a sense of humiliation as he 
 contrasted his own home with the orderly house 
 holds of the valley, where his industrious habits and 
 jolly disposition made him a general favorite, was 
 little Mattie s devoted champion, and secretly looked 
 forward to some day installing her as housekeeper 
 in a home of his own. 
 
TROUBLE IN THE VALLEY. 289 
 
 When the fever had run its race with the rest of 
 the family, Mattie, the faithful and devoted nurse, 
 fell sick, and Dr. John saw that it was to be a 
 sharp struggle if he would save her. 
 
 Distracted at the danger that threatened his 
 young sister, Mike McCrary left his work in the 
 valley and came to her bedside, where he took up 
 his quarters as a faithful and tireless watcher. 
 Together the doctor and he fought for the child s 
 life, and one night the crisis passed, and they knew 
 they had won the fight. 
 
 With his finger on his lips, Dr. John arose and 
 tiptoed out of the house. He felt strangely worn 
 and tired, now that the sharp strain was over. 
 He stretched out his arms, as if to relieve himself 
 from the long tension, and looked up to the stars, 
 glittering so brightly in the infinite reaches above 
 him. 
 
 A footfall sounded on the turf, and Mike stood 
 beside him, his haggard face dignified by its look 
 of solemn thanksgiving. 
 
 " It s your work, Dr. John," he said. " You ve 
 saved her. There is n t anything in the world I 
 would n t do for you. I d lay down my life for 
 you." 
 
 To Ned, Dr. John had become more of a mys 
 tery than ever he had been to Martin. Satisfied as 
 he was that the doctor could never have done any 
 thing ignoble, the colonel s story, when he thought 
 it over, was fragmentary and incomplete. 
 
290 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Why should a sick man flee from home and 
 friends ? In what had the doctor s sickness con 
 sisted ? What had brought about his complete and 
 miraculous recovery ? and what did the doctor mean 
 by his reference to the " abandoned claim," when 
 first they came upon their homestead ? 
 
 These were the questions that absorbed the 
 young man s mind, and over which he might have 
 continued to puzzle had not a weightier problem 
 displaced them. 
 
 The occupants of Home Ranch became involved 
 in a dispute which never could have occurred any 
 where but in California. 
 
 A great corporation, which earned a princely rev 
 enue by supplying one of the largest cities in Cali 
 fornia with water, had long had its eye on The 
 Brook, on account of its copious supply of clear 
 water, drawn from living mountain streams. The 
 supply of water in its reservoirs was becoming 
 inadequate for the growing city s uses. 
 
 So the corporation went vigorously to work, buy 
 ing up lands along the headwaters of The Brook, 
 buying out some of the riparian owners along the 
 line of the stream, confiscating other claims by 
 means of a very favorable State law known as " A 
 Bill defining certain Prescriptive Rights," and 
 finally built a great dam to divert the waters of The 
 Brook into its pipes. 
 
 The company began operations a couple of miles 
 up the canon, where the steep cliffs nearly ap 
 proached each other, inclosing a considerable area, 
 
TROUBLE IN THE VALLEY. 291 
 
 that only needed a heavy wall of stone across the 
 entrance to complete a vast natural reservoir. 
 
 By the middle of August its work was com 
 pleted, and just as the farmers came to the season 
 of the year when water was most essential to them, 
 the sparkling fluid that nature and the Almighty 
 had decreed should refresh the valley coursed 
 through it, imprisoned in an iron pipe, on its way 
 to the city. 
 
 The people of the valley awoke to the fact that 
 all of the conventions that had been called in their 
 midst, the blatant speeches that had been made, had 
 been an empty " bluff," a sham fight generated by 
 unscrupulous men who had sought thereby to get 
 a better price from the Water Company. Several 
 of these men sold their riparian privileges out 
 right ; others compromised for a liberal allowance 
 of water daily. The poorer farmers, whose pros 
 perity or ruin depended upon the security of their 
 water rights, who had not the money to wage a 
 long and unequal contest, and upon whom the loss 
 of water for a single month entailed serious priva 
 tion and loss, found the courts deaf to their appeals 
 for immediate protection. 
 
 The Austins with difficulty watered their cattle 
 from their spring, which had begun to show the ef 
 fect of two successive dry seasons in a diminished 
 flow of water, and saved sufficient for household 
 purposes. The bed of The Brook was dry, and 
 the hydraulic ram which they had put into the 
 stream to water a tract of small fruits planted on 
 
292 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 the lower land was a useless encumbrance. Their 
 figs were withering and dropping from the boughs ; 
 green raspberries shriveled and turned brown upon 
 the bushes. Even Hope s roses began to look 
 sickly, while garden vegetables parched in the sun 
 without maturing. Their experience was typical 
 of what was being undergone throughout the val 
 ley, and many were much worse off than they. 
 
CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE COURT OF LAST RESORT. 
 
 ONE still night early in September, as the boys 
 were returning from their chores about the stable, 
 Martin caught Ned s arm in excitement, pointing 
 to the open stretch of road on the opposite side of 
 The Brook. 
 
 The bridge and its approaches shone white in 
 the moonlight, and the dead sycamore that stood 
 guard on the further side of the water penciled a 
 dark tracery of naked limbs against the starry sky. 
 The ground beyond was dark with moving figures. 
 Cattle ? They watched for a moment before they 
 could satisfy themselves. No, men, men on horse 
 back, now crossing the bridge, which rang a muffled 
 response to the clattering hoofs. Then the body 
 seemed to pause, as if for brief deliberation. A 
 moment later two mounted figures dashed up the 
 lane. 
 
 The boys ran down to meet them. The horse 
 men drew rein. 
 
 " Mr. "Willetts ! " exclaimed Martin, wonder- 
 ingly, as he recognized a steady young ranchman, 
 who, with his wife and child, lived a couple of miles 
 further down the stream. 
 
294 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Boys," said the farmer, " we have business up 
 the canon to-night. Do you want to join us ? " 
 
 No need of further explanation. Ned answered 
 like a soldier to the roll-call : 
 
 " I will come." 
 
 Then, seeing Martin s eager movement, he laid 
 his hand on his brother s shoulder. 
 
 "Only one, Martin. If anything should hap 
 pen, they must have you to depend upon," and he 
 looked in the direction of the cottage. 
 
 " Make haste, Austin," said Willetts. " Bring 
 an axe, hatchet, crowbar, anything you have 
 handy. No firearms, mind." 
 
 As the horsemen took their way up the canon, 
 any stranger who might have seen them would have 
 been puzzled to make out their character and pur 
 pose. Surely, this was no gay cavalcade, bound on 
 sport or pleasure, nor yet could it have been mis 
 taken for a martial company, riding forth to open 
 contest, where it expected to achieve honor and re 
 nown. No light jests passed. There was no laugh 
 ter on the grim faces, no enthusiasm in the downcast 
 eyes. It was more like a funeral party, for in his 
 heart each loyal man rebelled against the position 
 into which he had been forced, that of an oppo 
 nent to the peaceful administration of the laws of 
 the State. 
 
 Yet they rode on and on, into the gloomy shadows 
 of frowning cliffs, some with faces bent low, until 
 their chins rested on their breasts, others with heads 
 raised defiantly, nerved by the consciousness that 
 
THE COURT OF LAST EESOET. 295 
 
 whatever the result of their mission, they were the 
 wronged ; the great corporation the aggressor. 
 
 As they approached the third crossing of The 
 Brook, a receding hillside let a flood of light into 
 the narrow gorge where the company had erected 
 its dam, revealing the dry and stony bed of the 
 stream, with a fringe of perishing grasses along its 
 margin. Tall alders, sycamores, and willows, which 
 had established themselves long years before beside 
 the stream, drooped low over its empty channel, 
 and answered the night breeze with quivering sighs, 
 as if mourning the inconstancy of the stream whose 
 faithful wooers many of them had been for a cen 
 tury past. 
 
 A hundred yards above, a broad and glistening 
 wall of stone crossed the gorge. Along this three 
 armed men were pacing like sentinels on a ram 
 part. The ripple of imprisoned waters could be 
 heard above. 
 
 The sound maddened the ranchers. This was 
 the precious fluid for want of which their stock was 
 dying, their gardens and small fruit parching, their 
 wells running dry. 
 
 " Halt ! Who are you ? " 
 
 It was one of the sentinels on the dam who chal 
 lenged them. 
 
 Loud and clear came the reply : 
 
 " We are seventy determined men from the val 
 ley. We want water." 
 
 " I am here to protect this dam. Don t you 
 come nearer, or I 11 fire." 
 
296 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 The sentinel raised his rifle to his shoulder, and 
 leveled it at the crowd. 
 
 One of the men on horseback pressed to the 
 front, and as if in response to this movement the 
 whole company surged forward. 
 
 There was a flash, a purl of smoke, and a loud 
 report awoke the echoes of the canon. The man 
 who had first moved forward reeled in his saddle, 
 and fell. 
 
 In the glamour of the moonlight no one seemed 
 to recognize him. There were wild cries of, 
 
 "He is killed!" 
 
 " Who is he ? " 
 
 " No, he is all right. See ! he is up again." 
 
 They had not dared close in around him, lest the 
 horses, already terrified and prancing, should tram 
 ple him down. Those near to him instinctively 
 drew off, while one or two quickly dismounted and 
 ran to his side, but before they could reach him he 
 was on his feet, holding by the pommel of his sad 
 dle to steady himself. 
 
 " I only wanted a word with you, McCrary," 
 he said, addressing the sentinel. "Listen to me 
 now. These men are honest farmers, men you 
 know and respect. Most of them settled in the val 
 ley, along the line of this stream, before the water 
 company was incorporated. This water means life 
 and subsistence to our people. Their crops are 
 failing, cattle dying. The stagnant pools along 
 the bed of The Brook are breeding pestilence 
 throughout the valley. ... Be more than the 
 
THE COURT OF LAST RESORT. 297 
 
 faithful servant of a rich corporation. Be a man, 
 and respect the rights of your fellowmen." 
 
 They could see that the man who had fired the 
 rifle faltered in his purpose. He had lowered the 
 gun, and seemed to be debating with himself as to 
 what course he should pursue, while his two aids 
 drew near and stood irresolute, awaiting his orders. 
 
 No one but those in his immediate vicinity had 
 recognized the speaker. His voice, raised from the 
 ordinary conversational tone, was deep and sono 
 rous, qualities emphasized by the echoing crags 
 above. In the moon s deceptive light, faces and 
 forms, seen at a little distance, took on a foreign 
 aspect. 
 
 He spoke again, and his hearers observed a huski- 
 ness and broken utterance, like one who battles 
 against a growing physical weakness. 
 
 " Why, McCrary, are you so blind to all princi 
 ples of right that I must appeal as man to 
 man ? Do you think I would join such a 
 movement if I did n t know it was in the in 
 terests of justice ? Don t let us have any more 
 bloody work to-night. McCrary, you said once 
 you d do anything for me. Don t fire again on 
 unarmed men ! Let me be the first and the last 
 victim." 
 
 He was sinking in the arms of one who stood be 
 side him. Blood was drenching his garments, and 
 forming a pool upon the ground at his feet. At 
 the last words Mike McCrary flung his rifle back 
 ward into the deep pool, and they heard a splash as 
 it struck the water and sank. 
 
298 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 He leaped down from the dam, and forced his 
 way to the side of the injured man. None who 
 heard him ever forgot his bitter cry : 
 
 " O, my God ! I ve killed the doctor." 
 
 They made quick work of the dam after that. 
 
 Long before morning The Brook was rippling 
 down the canon, its old glad self, distributing its 
 bounty throughout the valley, and cheering the face 
 of all the country. 
 
CHAPTER XLL 
 THE DOCTOR S STORY. 
 
 "Why, Mike, I understand. You thought it 
 was your duty. You did n t know me." 
 
 Dr. John was lying on a litter the men had im 
 provised for him. Even in his weakness and pain, 
 he was mindful of others, and tried to comfort the 
 poor fellow who hung over him in an agony of self- 
 reproach, begging his forgiveness. 
 
 The wounded man gave directions to those about 
 him with a self-command and hardihood that awed 
 them ; but his first thought was of the man who 
 was accusing himself of having slain his best 
 friend. 
 
 " Don t take on so, Mike. If any one had to go 
 it is better it should have been me. I have no 
 one to miss me." 
 
 " No one to miss him ! " What a murmur of con 
 tradiction arose. Who could not be better spared ? 
 Who would be so sorely missed by all the coun 
 try? 
 
 " It s nothing serious," insisted the doctor 
 weakly. u I 11 be all right in a week or two. 
 Now take a place at the head, where the heaviest 
 weight comes, Mike. You 11 do penance enough 
 over this long road. I m no mean weight." 
 
300 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Dr. John did not speak again until the sorrow 
 ful procession rested a few moments near the 
 bridge. Then he beckoned Ned to him, and spoke 
 in an undertone : 
 
 " Don t go home, Ned. Send word. I want 
 you to stay by me all the time. There is some 
 thing I must say to you to-night." 
 
 The ball had passed through the doctor s side, 
 coming out again at the back. Whether it was a 
 mere flesh wound or had penetrated some vital or 
 gan was a matter for after demonstration. 
 
 Those who knew the doctor s radical precepts were 
 not surprised when he directed that the wounds 
 should be dressed with a simple wet compress ; but 
 they were amazed when he firmly declined their pro 
 posal to telegraph for another physician. 
 
 " I understand my case best," he insisted. " Ned 
 is to be my chief nurse. McCrary will assist him. 
 Now, friends, do not be offended if I thank you 
 all, and ask you to leave me. I must prescribe 
 rest and quiet for my patient." 
 
 When the door had closed behind the last one, 
 and Mike McCrary had been dispatched into an 
 adjoining room, Ned obeyed the doctor s gesture, 
 and took a seat by his bedside. 
 
 Many minutes passed before Dr. John spoke, and 
 as Ned waited his eye roved about the room, ob 
 serving many little details of its arrangement. 
 
 It was a large chamber, running quite across the 
 house, and a double window, on the side opposite 
 the bed, looked out toward Home Ranch, and was 
 
THE DOCTOR S STORY. 301 
 
 embowered with sweet-scented honeysuckle in which 
 the night twitter of birds was plainly audible. A 
 small revolving bookcase and an easy-chair beside 
 the casement attested that this was the doctor s 
 study, as well as sleeping apartment. The room 
 was furnished with the utmost simplicity. An in 
 grain rug was on the floor ; a table, a few chairs, a 
 writing-desk, and the ordinary chamber furniture 
 completed the fittings of the room. 
 
 On the gray-tinted walls was a single picture, a 
 painting of a woman, evidently copied from a mini 
 ature. The serious beauty of the high-bred face 
 arrested Ned s attention. He had never seen a 
 face that could compare with it, yet there was 
 something in the expression of the mournful eyes 
 that was peculiarly saddening. 
 
 Pie was relieved when the doctor at length 
 moved, and he could withdraw his gaze from the 
 fair face, with its sad, inquiring eyes. 
 
 Dr. John motioned toward a pitcher of ice water 
 on a stand near by. Ned hastened to anticipate 
 his want. 
 
 " Had n t you better wait, sir, until to-morrow, 
 perhaps ? You are so weak. It might hurt you 
 to talk now. After a good night s rest " 
 
 " This is nothing," exclaimed Dr. John. " Loss 
 of blood, nothing more. But I m not in the best 
 bodily condition, Ned, and this is going to bring 
 back an old trouble. Ned, I in going to ask of 
 you as great a service as one man ever asked of 
 another." 
 
302 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Ned did not speak in reply, but his look held a 
 pledge that the doctor understood. 
 
 "Ned, Marshall didn t tell the whole truth 
 that night at the camp-fire. He glossed over facts. 
 I came out of the army suffering with a painful 
 neuralgic trouble, the result of a gunshot wound. 
 I took opium to ease the pain. When I got the 
 better of the disease I was a slave to the drug. 
 
 " I m not able to go into details now. I had a 
 wife, and afterwards a little daughter was born. 
 They were dearer to me than my own soul ; but a 
 man who once becomes enslaved by that damnable 
 habit would pledge his soul for a single grain of the 
 drug. I started in with a tolerably good practice, but 
 half the time I was unfit to attend to my patients. 
 My child fell sick. We thought she could not get 
 well. I did what I could for her, but instead of 
 trying to comfort my poor wife I took larger and 
 larger doses. It helped me not to care. I kept 
 sinking lower and lower. My credit was gone. I 
 was mad for the drug. Ned, I did a dastardly 
 thing. I robbed the little savings bank of our 
 dying child, and she, my wife, saw me." 
 
 The doctor ceased speaking, and pointed to the 
 glass of water. Ned held it to his lips, and after 
 a pause Dr. John resumed his story. 
 
 " She did not say a word, but she pointed to the 
 door. I went out into the night, an abased, God 
 forsaken creature. ... I slept on the ground under 
 a tree in the public park that night. I did n t dare 
 go back ; I thought the child was dead ; but then 
 
THE DOCTOR S STORY. 303 
 
 and there I made a desperate resolve to free myself 
 from that accursed habit or die in the attempt. I 
 started out into the country. ... I can t tell you 
 the horrors I went through. I can t bear to recall 
 them to this day. I could neither eat nor sleep, 
 but I walked walked walked ; scores upon 
 scores of miles, always avoiding towns, stopping at 
 farm-houses, working for my meals when I was 
 able to swallow anything ; now and then putting in 
 a week or so working in the field. It was seed-time 
 when I started out, and it was harvest-time when I 
 was through. The return to a simple, healthful 
 life, the exercise of disused muscles, the absence of 
 temptation and opportunity, had effected a cure. 
 . . . But I could n t go back. . . . Ned, I m going 
 to pass through a season of terrible pain. I m 
 afraid of myself. There s a bottle of arsenic and 
 a bottle of morphine, side by side, on the shelf in 
 my cabinet in the next room." 
 
 " I 11 go and empty out the morphine, burn it 
 up, bury it," said Ned, anticipating the request 
 the doctor was about to make. 
 
 The doctor s head moved nervously on the pil 
 low ; a contemptuous expression flitted over his 
 face. 
 
 " The principle on which they are trying to run 
 three fourths of the reformatory institutions in the 
 country," he said dryly. " Preserving men from 
 temptation by shutting off temptation from them. 
 As if any lasting good could ever be accomplished 
 without strengthening a man s moral nature ! No, 
 Ned. Let the bottles stand there ; only, if worst 
 
304 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 comes to worst, if I am so weak as to beg for the 
 opiate, promise me you 11 give me the quicker 
 poison first." 
 
 The doctor was so earnest in his appeal that 
 Ned gave the singular pledge without a second s 
 thought. 
 
 " Now you know why I don t want any 
 woman around. You understand why I don t 
 want another doctor, why I would rather 
 . . . depend on ... you and Mike." 
 
 The doctor s short and labored breath showed 
 that his long effort in speaking was telling on him. 
 Ned arranged the lights in the room so as to throw 
 the bed into the shadow, and was soon rejoiced to 
 see his patient pass into a deep slumber. 
 
CHAPTER XLIL 
 
 THE LAST BATTLE. 
 
 THE hero of many battles had one more to fight, 
 and it was a battle unto the death. 
 
 Ned kept a vigilant watch over the sick-bed that 
 first night, not even lying down when Mike insisted 
 upon relieving him. 
 
 Their patient slept so heavily that both watchers, 
 unable to discriminate between the sleep of health 
 and the sleep of exhaustion, were greatly rejoiced, 
 and looked confidently forward to a marked im 
 provement the next day ; but towards dawn the sick 
 man began to show symptoms of restlessness and 
 fever, and he awoke in violent pain. 
 
 Day after day went by with little change in the 
 doctor s condition. He gave directions for his own 
 treatment, which were scrupulously obeyed by his 
 faithful nurses. 
 
 In the intervals of respite from pain, he would 
 lie calmly looking out of the open window embow 
 ered with honeysuckles, his thoughts far away. 
 Sometimes his eyes were fixed upon the portrait, 
 and at such times there came into them a look of 
 sorrow and of longing pitiful to see. 
 
 Rarely he aroused himself for a few words of 
 
306 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 conversation. On one occasion when he and Ned 
 were alone, he spoke to the boy in a weak and fail 
 ing voice : 
 
 " If I should get pretty low, Ned, ... so far 
 gone that there seems to be no other hope, I sup 
 pose Dr. Thompson had better be called in. But 
 don t be in a hurry. This is going to be a matter 
 of weeks, not days." 
 
 " Sha n t we send for him now ? " asked poor 
 Ned, who would willingly have had some more 
 mature judgment upon which to lean. 
 
 "No. Just at the last, for decency s sake," 
 replied Dr. John. " I don t want to go out of the 
 world . . . and leave ... a reputation for pig 
 headed obstinacy . . . behind me. But mind, no 
 opiates, even if he prescribes them." 
 
 " I don t believe you would take them if he gave 
 them to you. You underrate your own moral cour 
 age, Dr. John," said Ned earnestly. 
 
 " You don t know, Ned, you don t know," said 
 the doctor weakly. " Only a physician knows what 
 miserable, cowardly, tyrannic forces . . . these 
 bodies of ours are ; how they buffet, and torment, 
 and cow . . . the soul. Stronger men than I have 
 given up, stronger men than I." 
 
 He lay with his eyes closed. 
 
 " I don t believe a human body ever held a 
 stronger soul," cried Ned in a burst of enthusiasm. 
 
 The doctor opened his eyes once more, turning 
 upon Ned a glance of gratitude, simple and un 
 feigned as a child e. Possibly the young fellow s 
 
THE LAST BATTLE. 307 
 
 faith helped to strengthen him for the struggle 
 before him, so dependent are we all upon the sym 
 pathy and confidence of our fellow-beings. 
 
 Thus he glided into the heat of the awful conflict 
 that disease was about to wage with the spirit for the 
 possession of its abused and worn-out tenement. 
 
 In all this time the old weakness, whose return 
 he had so dreaded, never once overcame him. 
 Sometimes when the pain and fever were at their 
 height, when it seemed as if exhausted nature must 
 cry aloud for some relief from the agony that 
 racked the enfeebled frame, the sufferer would 
 turn to Ned with a flitting smile that seemed to say, 
 " Still holding out ! " 
 
 At such times Ned always answered with a look 
 of undiminished courage. 
 
 After all, it was Ned whose courage failed, and 
 not the doctor. 
 
 One day there came upon the sufferer a parox 
 ysm of pain such as Ned had never witnessed be 
 fore, but such as he was destined to witness many 
 times during the weeks to come, each one drawing 
 the sick man nearer to the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Death, which he was about to enter. 
 
 Ned forgot his promise, forgot everything save 
 that before him was lying his best friend, suffering 
 as it seemed no mortal could long suffer and live, 
 while near at hand was a remedy that would silence 
 the pain and bring him relief. 
 
 He rushed into the next room, threw open the 
 doors of the cabinet, seized the bottle, and returned 
 to the bedside of Dr. John with it in his hand. 
 
308 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 If he had known the proper dose he would have 
 measured it out and administered it ; not having 
 the faintest idea of the proper quantity, he could 
 only hold it out to Dr. John and beg him to 
 take it. 
 
 An indescribable look came into the sick man s 
 face ; a look of fearful longing mingled with terror 
 shone in his eyes as they fell on the drug. Then 
 he raised his clenched fist and trembling smote 
 the bottle from the young man s hand. 
 
 " Why, Ned ! " he gasped, fixing a reproachful 
 gaze upon him. 
 
 It was the most humiliating moment of the young 
 fellow s life. Long years after he remembered the 
 doctor s look and heard the reproachful words. 
 Without pausing to think, he caught up the bottle 
 and flung it into the grate, where a low fire had 
 been kindled to remove the morning s chill. There 
 was a crash of glass, and then the greedy flames 
 licked up the white powder. 
 
 A moment s respite from the deathly pain that 
 racked him would have been a priceless boon to 
 the sick man ; yet he never slept save in fitful 
 dozes from which he awoke moaning in anguish. 
 He preserved consciousness until the morning of 
 the twenty-fourth day, when, a little past midnight, 
 a deadly torpor crept over mind and body. His 
 muscles, hitherto strained with unnatural tension, 
 relaxed. His limbs, cramped with pain, grew limp 
 and motionless. His clenched hands fell weakly 
 by his side or idly plucked the counterpane. 
 
 No need of opiates now. The delicate nerves, 
 
THE LAST BATTLE. 309 
 
 chords of physical sensation, swept again and again 
 by the merciless throes of pain, were like the worn- 
 out strings of some frail musical instrument, and 
 no longer responded to the touch. 
 
 Ned, who had never once relaxed his vigils over 
 the sick man, snatching sleep like a young watch 
 dog, at the bedside, found that the clear intellect 
 had at last become clouded. A slow lethargy was 
 stealing over mind as well as body. His frantic 
 demands for some sign that the doctor still recog 
 nized him brought only a stammering, wandering 
 response. 
 
 The boy s task was ended. More skill than he 
 possessed was needed, if, indeed, human aid could 
 longer avail. 
 
 Mike was waiting below. It had become appar 
 ent, at an early stage of the doctor s illness, that 
 the poor fellow was not a fit attendant for the sick 
 man. His constant self-reproaches, his awkward 
 and noisy movements, disturbed the sensitive pa 
 tient, and the unfortunate fellow voluntarily abdi 
 cated his place as nurse, and constituted himself 
 an humble helper and man of all work, performing 
 every menial task, bringing lights, fuel, water ; pre 
 paring bandages, going on errands, and answering 
 numberless calls from anxious inquirers. 
 
 Ned found him waiting in the little office below, 
 seated on the edge of one of the stuffed leather 
 chairs, a look of deep anxiety on his face. 
 
 Ned could not speak. They stared at each other, 
 trying to find words for what they felt, and courage 
 to pronounce them. 
 
310 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " Is it is it that ? " blundered Mike at last. 
 
 "Yes, Mike. lam afraid." 
 
 Mike crumpled his hat it was his Sunday best 
 between his hands, jamming it into a shapeless 
 lump, as if in this act he might find relief for his 
 over-charged heart. 
 
 " Any man but him ! If it had been any man 
 but him ! " he finally broke out. " What 11 all the 
 valley do without him ? Who is there to take his 
 place?" 
 
 This brought to Ned the memory of a forgotten 
 injunction. 
 
 " That reminds me, Mike," he said hastily, " I 
 was to send for old Dr. Thompson in case this 
 in case the worst came to pass. I promised him to 
 do so. Will you carry word now ? " 
 
 "I ll go right off," cried Mike, starting up, 
 eager to do something, to be of use to the friend 
 who had already passed beyond knowledge of all 
 human effort. During all the doctor s illness, the 
 possible consequences to himself never occurred to 
 the unhappy fellow. The law held no such terror 
 for him as the possibility of the doctor s death by 
 his hand. 
 
 " I 11 run there afoot as fast as any man can ride," 
 he cried, darting through the door. 
 
 It may well be imagined that when the news of 
 the doctor s injury was conveyed to Home Ranch, 
 it had occasioned the greatest distress and anxiety 
 there. Hope had hastily packed in a valise such 
 articles as she thought Ned would need, and carried 
 it to him herself. 
 
THE LAST BATTLE. 311 
 
 As she handed it to him, she gave him four 
 folded silk handkerchiefs, red, blue, black, and 
 white, presents from Ah Wing, the doctor s Chi 
 nese servant, on as many successive China New 
 Years. 
 
 " Ned," she said, " we shall all want to know how 
 the doctor is getting along, oftener than we can 
 send or come. We want to know all the time. 
 Take these handkerchiefs, and keep one of them 
 hanging out of the upper window that looks to 
 wards The Brook, the blue one if he is worse, the 
 white one if he is better, the red one if he will 
 surely, surely get well, and oh, Ned ! the black 
 one, if there is no more hope." 
 
 Ned promised to remember the signals, and day 
 after day the blue handkerchief had fluttered from 
 the window, conveying its discouraging tidings to 
 the three watchers across The Brook. This morn 
 ing, before dawn, Ned went to the place where he 
 had laid the handkerchiefs, and, untying the blue 
 one, hung the dark messenger of sorrow in its stead. 
 
 Time dragged wearily by. He did not know till 
 long after that Mike had a chase of ten miles 
 across the country before he found the old physi 
 cian, whose practice had been materially increased 
 during Dr. John s illness. 
 
 In the sick-room, where the shades were kept 
 raised all day to let in the fresh air and sunshine in 
 obedience to the doctor s principles, the cheery 
 aspect of the room, as the morning light crept in, 
 seemed to breathe of hope and new life rather than 
 
312 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 of death and decay. The honeysuckle at the 
 window shed its fragrance throughout the room. 
 Occasionally its foliage rustled musically as it an 
 swered the touch of a vagrant breeze. Honeybees 
 buzzed past, laden with spoils from the hearts of 
 the brilliant blossoms on the lawn, and once a tiny 
 humming-bird, a marvel of glittering bronze, with a 
 crimson collar and breast, darted into the room and 
 poised motionless in mid-air, its outspread wings 
 twinkling like the rays of some magnificent jewel, 
 then darted out again as swiftly, as if it could not 
 abide the sight the room contained. 
 
 The white hands no longer roved restlessly over 
 the counterpane, but lay still and almost pulseless 
 on the sick man s breast. His face was wan and 
 colorless, and his features sharpened by his long 
 and wasting illness. His breath came in long, 
 fluttering gasps, and his eyes were glazed and 
 sightless. 
 
 Even as Ned watched him he saw a look of per 
 fect peace, the look that the dying wear, spread 
 over the doctor s face. Indeed, he looked so like 
 death that the solitary young watcher bent over 
 him in an agony of grief and pain, to make sure 
 that the breath of life still faintly came and went 
 between the parted lips. 
 
 To Ned, awed and appalled by the nearness of a 
 presence strange to him, all the sights and sounds of 
 the outside world faded into dim reality. Nothing 
 was real or tangible but the sick man, stretched 
 out on the bed before him, fast progressing beyond 
 
THE LAST BATTLE. 313 
 
 the reach of human power, and the pictured face on 
 the wall, which seemed to look down, a sentient, 
 breathing being. 
 
 The welcome sound of carriage wheels broke upon 
 the silence. Ned crossed the room and looked out 
 of a window, only to be disappointed. 
 
 It was not the old doctor s phaeton, but a public 
 conveyance from the station. Two ladies had 
 alighted, and were walking swiftly towards the 
 house. They were some visitors who had come to 
 inquire after the doctor, he thought. Yet he 
 stepped into the hall and looked down. 
 
 They were already in the doorway, speaking with 
 Wing. Ned had only time to observe that they 
 were clad in dark gray ulsters and had a look as if 
 they had come on a long journey. At the sound 
 of steps above, one of them lifted her face. 
 
 Ned clung to the balustrade, his head in a whirl. 
 In the hall s dim light he saw a pale, oval face with 
 pathetic dark eyes. Years of sorrow had dimmed 
 the radiance of youth, but had no power to quench 
 the imperishable beauty of the face. 
 
 It was the original of the portrait. 
 
 " Where is he ? Take me to him." 
 
 She was climbing the stairs, and there was 
 mingled entreaty and command in her voice. 
 
 Ned turned silently back to the doctor s room, 
 past the landing, on through the narrow passage 
 way, to the sunshiny room where a noble life was 
 nearing its close. 
 
 She gave one low cry as she saw the still, white 
 
314 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 face. Then she sped noiselessly to the bedside 
 and bent over the dying man. 
 
 " Oh, my husband ! Speak to me. Look at 
 me." 
 
 Not so much as the flicker of an eyelid answered 
 her passionate call. 
 
 " My darling ! Tell me that you hear me. I 
 have come to you. Make some sign, one word to 
 tell me that you know me." 
 
 Hewn stone could not have been more motion 
 less, iron more irresponsive, than the inanimate 
 figure. 
 
 Then Ned and the younger lady, standing to 
 gether near the door, not daring to move lest they 
 should startle the anguish-stricken woman, became 
 witnesses of a terrible and heart-breaking scene. 
 
 Despairingly she chafed the hands of the dying 
 man, placing her lips to them again and again. 
 She stroked the thick brown hair back from the 
 forehead, where the death-damp was gathering. 
 She pressed her cheek against his, with a wife s 
 supreme love, but tenderly as a mother caresses 
 her child. And all the while she poured into the 
 deaf ears broken protestations of the pent-up affec 
 tion and grief of years. 
 
 " Oh, my darling ! My poor boy ! Hear me. 
 Awake and listen to me, if only for a moment. I 
 loved you then I love you now more than life. 
 Even then, that cruel night when I drove you 
 away, you, my poor, unfortunate husband ! 
 when I should only have been more tender and 
 
THE LAST BATTLE. 315 
 
 pitiful. Hear me, dear ! I was sick sick, when the 
 colonel told me. I came as soon as I could travel. 
 I loved you always, my brave, noble, unselfish hero. 
 Come back come back to me ! that I may prove 
 it, and make up to you for the long, lonely, terrible 
 years we have spent apart. My God, help me ! 
 Give him back. Tell him how I have waited and 
 prayed and looked for him. Eighteen years ! And 
 then to find him only for this. Oh, my God ! " 
 
 She did not cease even when a rattling vehicle 
 came noisily up the road, and the sound of a gruff 
 voice below told that the old physician had at last 
 arrived. 
 
 Ned and the young lady were crying helplessly 
 by the door when Dr. Thompson entered. They 
 tried to keep him back a little, and to give the other 
 lady warning of his approach, but there was no 
 need. At the sound of the opening door she had 
 arisen, controlling herself by a strong effort. Bow 
 ing with dignified recognition of the physician s 
 entrance, she awaited his verdict with sad and hope 
 less eyes. 
 
 Dr. Thompson was a thin, cadaverous old gen 
 tleman, with a sombre countenance, suggestive of 
 undertakers and funerals. He walked into the 
 room with a pompous air. There had never been 
 much sympathy between him and Dr. John. Too 
 many patients whom the old doctor had given over 
 to die had been saved by the younger man, and were 
 living witnesses to the whole community of his skill 
 or shall we say his common sense ? 
 Vv 
 
316 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 Dr. Thompson was an old fogy, it is true, but 
 even old fogies do not like to be superseded by 
 younger men with better schooling and more pro 
 gressive ideas. Therefore it was with a pardonable 
 feeling of triumph that the old doctor had answered 
 the call to his younger colleague s bedside. He had 
 taken pains to inform everybody he met that Dr. 
 John was worse and had sent for him. 
 
 It was something to have his rival prostrate and 
 helpless, and obliged at last to appeal to his pro 
 fessional skill. 
 
 He drew back with a start at the bedside. What 
 was this? 
 
 Instead of the petulant sufferer he had expected 
 to see, chafing under his enforced confinement, here 
 was a man already marked with death, silently 
 passing into the great unknown; one to whom 
 earthly rivalries and differences were no longer a 
 matter of moment. 
 
 " How long has he been so ? " 
 
 The old physician was startled out of his cus 
 tomary composure ; he put the question to Ned. 
 
 " Since four o clock this morning, sir. I sent 
 immediately for you." 
 
 Dr. Thompson stooped and placed his ear to Dr. 
 John s chest, laying his finger on his pulse. Then 
 he drew from his pocket a slender rubber case, and 
 took from it a small glass tube, which he slipped 
 within the parted lips. 
 
 This thermometer was Dr. Thompson s one con 
 cession to modern science. He used it on all occa- 
 
THE LAST BATTLE. 317 
 
 sions, and, it was said, even diagnosed disease by 
 means of it. This time he drew it out and looked 
 at it, and then around at the others, with an air of 
 owlish importance. 
 
 " Will he live ? " asked Ned, and the lady s eyes 
 repeated the question. 
 
 Now Dr. Thompson knew enough of the signs of 
 approaching dissolution to be sure there was no 
 mortal hope for Dr. John. But he had his own 
 professional dignity to maintain, and knew that it 
 would never answer to come so many miles to de 
 clare his inability to be of use. 
 
 " H m ! " he said, straightening himself and fas 
 tening his thumbs in the buttonholes of his coat. 
 " H m ! A bad case, a serious case, madam. If I 
 had been called sooner, but, ahem, as I was not" 
 
 They awaited his next words in breathless silence. 
 
 " There is just one thing that may possibly save 
 him," said the old doctor, in a deep voice. "He 
 must have an emulsion ! " 
 
 The old physician s emulsions were the terror of 
 every household in the valley. Dr. John had once 
 been known to say that more people had died from 
 Dr. Thompson s emulsions than he had ever saved. 
 Dr. Thompson had heard of this speech, and there 
 had (been bad blood between the two physicians 
 ever since. 
 
 Now, whether they are right or wrong, the people 
 of the valley always will have it that Dr. John s 
 professional spirit was stronger than death itself. 
 Be that as it may, what patient care and tender 
 
318 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 nursing had failed to effect, what love itself had 
 been powerless to accomplish, was brought about 
 by this projected outrage upon his own code of 
 practice. 
 
 For the sick man s hand, which an instant before 
 had lain white and nerveless upon his breast, trem 
 bled, moved, then lifted, with a slight repellant 
 gesture, wavered, and fell back. 
 
 The little group was startled. Even the old 
 doctor, accustomed as he was to dying men, was 
 shocked at this unexpected manifestation ; but he 
 repeated his decision, in an oracular tone : 
 
 " He must have an emulsion." 
 
 This time the pallid lips quivered, the head 
 moved slightly, and a faint whisper broke the 
 silence : 
 
 "I ll die first." 
 
 Be it dead or dying man who spoke, the assertion 
 was a direct challenge of the old gentleman s med 
 ical skill. He took it up instantly, with a snort of 
 indignation. 
 
 " You 11 die without it, sir." 
 
 Dr. John was so weak that he could not raise his 
 head from the pillow, but his eyes, wide open now, 
 blazed with indignant fire. A world of stern resolve 
 made itself felt in his halting utterance : 
 
 I 11 _ get well without it, sir." 
 
 " Very well, sir. A fine example of professional 
 courtesy, sir. I bid you good-day, sir." 
 
 A smile, sudden and fleeting, played about the 
 lips of Dr. John. Then his whole face lighted 
 
THE LAST BATTLE. 319 
 
 with a look of exalted happiness, such as Ned had 
 never seen there before. He stretched out his 
 hand. 
 
 " Mary ! My wife ! " 
 
 She fell on her knees beside him without a word 
 or cry. Great joy, like great sorrow, is often 
 speechless. Husband and wife, reunited after so 
 many years of separation, could find no words in 
 which to express the emotions of their overflowing 
 hearts. 
 
 " Father, have you no word for me ? " 
 
 The young girl had stolen up to the bed. The 
 memory of her fatherless childhood, the love and 
 longing for the dear father who had left her in her 
 babyhood, and who had never come back, quivered 
 in her sweet voice. The doctor looked at her as 
 one who dares not believe the hope that springs in 
 the heart. As he gazed upon her fair young face, 
 doubt slowly retreated and hope blossomed into a 
 glad certainty. With a low exclamation he reached 
 out his wasted hand, and the girl bent over it, bath 
 ing it with her tears. 
 
CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 THE MIRACLE A BLUNDER WROUGHT. 
 
 NED fled to the hall outside. The doctor was 
 better. The doctor would get well. The doctor s 
 wife and daughter had come to him ! 
 
 All the weariness and despondency of the past 
 few weeks fell from him as if by magic ! He saw 
 Mike McClary coming, and shouted the glad news 
 to him, then ran off, hatless, towards the bridge, to 
 carry his happy tidings to the anxious watchers at 
 Home Ranch, little guessing the miracle that had 
 been wrought there by his own blunder. 
 
 He had crossed the bridge, and was just turning 
 into the garden path, when he saw Hope, bare 
 headed, and with her long work-apron tied about 
 her waist, running toward him. 
 
 " Oh, Ned ! Father father father ! " she 
 cried, and caught him by the lapels of his coat, sob 
 bing as if her heart would break. 
 
 An awful fear laid hold upon Ned, rebuking his 
 glad sense of thanksgiving at Dr. John s convales 
 cence. 
 
 " Dead ? " he exclaimed in a tragical voice, while 
 something rose in his throat and almost strangled 
 him. 
 
THE MIRACLE A BLUNDER WROUGHT. 321 
 
 " Come ! Come quick ! " she cried excitedly, 
 catching his hand and hurrying him toward the 
 house. 
 
 Not dead, thank Heaven ! but living. Upon the 
 threshold of a new life, with a renewed lease of 
 health and strength. Standing on the porch, un 
 assisted, but feeble and uncertain as a babe when 
 it first begins to totter through the world. On his 
 feet for the first time in five years, looking at Ned 
 with the old cheerful smila and a proud flush on 
 his face. 
 
 " And he can walk, too," cried Hope. " It was 
 when you hung out the signal. We had all been 
 watching for it since daybreak. We could hardly 
 coax him to eat his breakfast, and when he was 
 through we wheeled him to the window and left 
 him there. He thought he saw something bright, 
 but the branches of the pepper-trees hung between. 
 And he was sure it was the red handkerchief, and 
 he could n t wait for us to come fo make certain." 
 
 " The red handkerchief ! " repeated Ned in sur 
 prise. 
 
 " Yes, the red handkerchief, of course. Oh, how 
 glad we all were ! See it waving now." 
 
 And there, true enough, was the red handker 
 chief waving in the breeze, flapping against the 
 perfumed branches of the honeysuckle, scaring the 
 humming-birds from their field of sweets. 
 
 Ned knew then that a miracle had been wrought. 
 In the dim light of early dawn he had mistaken 
 the red for the black, and it had restored his father. 
 
322 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 " A nd he walks as well as ever," rejoiced Hope. 
 " But father, dear," she remonstrated, " you must 
 not stand so long. You are not strong enough. 
 He has been standing there ever since, Ned. We 
 can t get him to sit down." 
 
 " Oh, children ! " began Mr. Austin ; and then 
 he stopped and choked back something, ruling him 
 self as a strong man must, when he feels himself in 
 danger of giving away. " You don t know what 
 it is to have the use of my body again. It s been 
 a terrible trial, to feel that I was no good in the 
 world, to know I was only a burden to you ! " 
 
 " A burden ! " repeated Hope indignantly, and 
 the boys echoed the cry. 
 
 " Well, I suppose I must give up now," said the 
 father, for his legs were weak, and he felt them 
 failing beneath him. " Here, Ned, your shoulder, 
 if you please." 
 
 Eesting lightly on Ned s arm, he got back into 
 the invalid chair. 
 
 " I warn you it won t be for long," he said, as 
 he settled back into its comfortable depths. " I m 
 going to take a hand in the fruit picking next season, 
 and there s a patch of ground back of the house 
 that vegetable garden of yours that you don t 
 half take care of. I ve been aching to hoe it for 
 a year." 
 
CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 PROVING UP. 
 
 SEVERAL weeks later a pleasant little party as 
 sembled under the shade of the pepper-trees in the 
 dooryard of Home Ranch. All of the family were 
 there, the boys taking a little respite from their 
 cares, while Hope, in her plain frock of blue 
 cambric, with bands of white at the neck and wrists, 
 had put aside her sewing out of honor to her 
 visitors. 
 
 The burden of housework had lately been lifted 
 from her young shoulders, so happily and unex 
 pectedly that it seemed like a chapter from some 
 domestic Arabian Nights, for Biddy McGinnis one 
 day presented herself, decently clad in widow s 
 weeds. The last of her sons had deserted her to 
 marry a young schoolgirl, and her worthless little 
 husband had at length fallen a victim to the mania 
 for strong drink that had always possessed him. 
 Biddy herself, trying hard to disguise her sensation 
 of relief with a decent mantle of sorrow, announced 
 her intention of spending the rest of her days at 
 Home Ranch and caring for the family as if they 
 were her own. Hope was unceremoniously turned 
 out of the kitchen, and bidden to stay in the parlor 
 
324 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 where she belonged, while all of them were " mo 
 thered" and looked after in the most tyrannical 
 and affectionate fashion. 
 
 The doctor was in the invalid chair this time, 
 his face still thin and colorless from the effects of 
 his illness, but wearing a look of happiness that 
 gladdened all their hearts. Mr. Austin, a little 
 arrogant in the consciousness of his new-found 
 health, as long-time invalids are wont to be, waited 
 upon him in an ostentatious manner that amused 
 the young people and brought a gleam of fun to 
 the doctor s eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Sherwood was at the doctor s side, and their 
 daughter, Bessie, sat at his feet, on the upper step 
 of the little porch, in the shadow of the vines, where 
 she could watch the others and escape observation 
 herself. 
 
 Hope had been a little afraid of this accomplished 
 and talented girl. Bessie Sherwood had been accus 
 tomed to the best society all her life. She had re 
 ceived a thorough education in all that it befits 
 a young lady to know. She had been under the 
 constant tutelage of a mother who was not only a 
 true lady, but a wise and sensible woman. In her 
 own little circle she had been somewhat noted for 
 her gifts of mind and graces of person : she had 
 even written for the newspapers, and written very 
 well ; yet she was shyer still of the child-woman 
 who presided over Home Ranch than ever Hope 
 could have been of her. 
 
 " She embarrasses me, with her odd, direct ways 
 
PROVING UP. 325 
 
 and her simple dignity," Bessie explained to her 
 parents. " It does n t matter if she does wear plain 
 gowns ; she has the air of an archduchess. Where 
 did she learn such manners, papa dear?" 
 
 " From the hills and fields and stream. Dame 
 Nature is a noble teacher. Hope Austin has had no 
 other, my little girl," replied the doctor fondly. 
 
 There was something indescribably touching in 
 the renewed intercourse between father and 
 daughter. Each seemed to be perpetually trying 
 to go back to the precious years they had lost, 
 the years of dearest companionship between parent 
 and child. The girl clung to the pet titles that had 
 been a memory of her babyhood. The father re 
 fused to acknowledge her young ladyhood, or to 
 accept her as anything more or less than an ex 
 panded image of the little child he had left. 
 
 Had the young people at Home Ranch been less 
 generous-hearted or more selfish in their attach 
 ment to him, they might have resented the new 
 claim that had seized upon the doctor, their Dr. 
 John, who had hitherto seemed to belong wholly 
 to them. As it was, they rejoiced that the shadows 
 were forevermore banished from his home. 
 
 " Now, Ned, you have a report from Washington, 
 I hear. What do the authorities say at last?" 
 asked the doctor. 
 
 " I don t think you will want to hear it all," 
 said Ned, drawing a cumbrous document from his 
 breast pocket. " It is a full report of the case : 
 opinions from this high authority and references to 
 
326 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 that ; recommendations of one official, concurrences 
 of others, and dissenting judgments of others. The 
 sum and substance of it all is that our application 
 is denied, and we now have to wait three years 
 longer, to perfect the contingent entry made in the 
 name of our father " 
 
 " Who stands here a living testimonial to the 
 logic of their decision," interrupted the doctor, 
 smiling upon his whilom nurse. 
 
 " But it took them a good many years to make 
 up their minds," criticised Martin. 
 
 "Never mind. We can afford to wait," said 
 Ned cheerfully. " This season has put us well 
 ahead. We can make the house a little more com 
 fortable now, and add a room or two. We have 
 been figuring it out, Martin and I, and I think that 
 next year we can count upon a clear income of a 
 couple of thousand dollars." 
 
 " And an increase every year, as the trees and 
 vines get older, and new ones are put in, to say 
 nothing of what we may make extra by putting the 
 hill land into olives," added Martin. 
 
 " Not too fast, my boy ! " warned the doctor. 
 " Phylloxera may lay hold of the vines, hot north 
 ers strike the fruit, new pests develop. Recollect, 
 too, that the State is settling up fast, and every 
 year s increased production forces the market down. 
 The day for fancy prices is fast going by. Fruit 
 raising will soon be on the sanie basis as any other 
 legitimate business, commanding only a fair return 
 for the labor expended, and a reasonable interest 
 on the money invested." 
 
PROVING UP. 327 
 
 " At any rate, we are sure of a comfortable home 
 and an independent living. I count that most," 
 said Hope. 
 
 " One of these days, when you have secured the 
 title to your land," resumed the doctor, with a kind 
 look at Hope, but trying hard to keep the conver 
 sation down to a business basis, u if you choose to 
 cut up the ranch, you might sell off a portion at a 
 good figure. Keep on cultivating, and planting 
 trees and vines. Values are jumping everywhere 
 around us. In a few years people will begin to 
 appreciate the hill lands. I predict that within 
 two years you can command a couple of hundred 
 dollars an acre for any you choose to sell, providing 
 only that it is tillable." 
 
 A couple of hundred dollars an acre ! The 
 young people had always thought of their home as 
 a fixed possession, something that could not be 
 bartered and sold. But it was true that nearly a 
 hundred acres might be spared, and their cares 
 greatly lightened thereby, while the essential por 
 tion of the ranch would still remain intact. They 
 made a hasty calculation. 
 
 " Why, we should be rich ! " exclaimed Martin. 
 
 " But richer still in health, happiness, and con 
 tent," said the doctor s wife softly. 
 
 " I would n t sell an acre, if it were mine," said 
 Bessie Sherwood, with animation, and she smiled 
 as she met Ned s eyes fixed upon her with a look 
 of frank approval. 
 
 There never could be any restraint or embarrass- 
 
328 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 ment between these two. Together they had 
 watched a human soul, dear to them both, come 
 back from the borderland of that mysterious region 
 we call Death. They felt as if they had known 
 each other all their lives. 
 
 " I don t believe I could possibly feel any richer 
 than I do now. I feel like a millionaire twice o ver," 
 said Hope quaintly, drawing a letter from her 
 pocket. " This came last night. It is from Colonel 
 Marshall." 
 
 She read the letter aloud : 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, November , 188-. 
 
 MY DEAR Miss HOPE, After due consultation 
 with my head gardener, who is already quite an 
 enthusiast over our " black rose," we have deter 
 mined to offer you five hundred dollars in cash for 
 the exclusive control of the " Agnes Clifford," and 
 a royalty of twenty per cent on all our sales of the 
 rose. I am so sure that you have sufficient confi 
 dence in me to accept my offer that I take the 
 liberty to inclose my check for the first-named 
 amount. I should like to have the young plants 
 you have rooted shipped to me at once, that I may 
 get them safely housed for their winter growth. 
 
 Please convey my warmest regards to Dr. Sher 
 wood, as well as his estimable wife, whom I have 
 known from her childhood ; also to their charming 
 daughter, whose companionship I know you will 
 prize. 
 
 Present my respects to your father and your 
 
PROVING UP. 329 
 
 brothers, and accept for yourself the assurance of 
 an old soldier s stoutest devotion. 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 EGBERT L. MARSHALL. 
 
 " And what are you going to do with your check, 
 Hope ? Bank it, or invest in a gold mine, or buy 
 a piano, books, pictures, new clothes, jewelry, 
 what?" quizzed the doctor. 
 
 " A buggy," replied Hope seriously. " The 
 nicest, most comfortable that can be found, so that 
 father can drive about every day. Oh, he thinks 
 he is as strong as any one, but he is n t, doctor, 
 and he needs to be watched and scolded like a 
 child." 
 
 Brightly and cheerily as Hope had spoken, 
 Bessie Sherwood, who had been watching her nar 
 rowly, saw a troubled shadow on her sweet young 
 face. 
 
 There was one clause in Colonel Marshall s letter 
 that Hope had suppressed, but that she could not 
 put from her mind. It weighed upon her per 
 petually, like a prophecy of coming trouble. 
 
 Tucked away in a little postscript, at the end of 
 the page, there had been a few words addressed to 
 her alone : 
 
 "My nephew insists on repeating his visit to 
 California this coming year. He is a noble fellow. 
 Be good to him, my dear." 
 
 That was what made the pain. If he were less 
 worthy, it would not be so hard. But to inflict 
 
380 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. 
 
 such pain upon him, to possibly be the means of 
 clouding his whole life ! 
 
 The tender-hearted girl was deeply distressed, 
 and moved by sorrowful forebodings. 
 
 Suddenly Bessie Sherwood, still absently watch 
 ing Hope s face, saw it flush with delight, and fol 
 lowed the direction of her eyes. 
 
 Tom Bateman was coming up the path. 
 
 Yet Tom had less to say to Hope than to any of 
 the rest. When he had exchanged greetings with 
 them all, he addressed himself to Ned. 
 
 " What news from Washington ? Is your claim 
 established?" 
 
 " It will be three years more before we can 
 4 prove up, " was the reply. 
 
 " You are lucky to get through so soon, Ned. 
 There seems to be no limit to the time an ordinary 
 man requires to 4 prove up to his own satisfac 
 tion, to say nothing of anybody else," observed 
 Tom seriously, and his eyes for an instant sought 
 Hope s, which were at once shyly averted, while 
 his mute question remained unanswered. 
 
 " It is n t a question of years. It is a question 
 of a lifetime, Tom," said the doctor earnestly ; 
 but the quick touch of his wife s hand upon his own, 
 and her look of loving confidence, seemed to chal 
 lenge his assertion. 
 
 
ERKELEY LIBRARIES