"We're
going to have two baseball teams next year. He says so. Then we kin have
matched games. But now he's goin' to send for what he calls a 'pigskin'
and he's a-goin' to teach us football. Guess you've heard of that, eh?"

"Oh, yes," said Janice. "It's a great game, Marty. But what about
school? Is he teaching you anything?"

Marty grinned. "Enough, I guess. Things goin' along easy-like. He don't
kill us with work, that's one thing. Old Elder Concannon's been up once
and sat an' listened to the classes. He seems satisfied."

Janice did not lose sight of Hopewell Drugg and little Lottie. The store
was now doing a fairly good business; but the man admitted that the
profits rolled up but slowly, and it would be a long time before he
could take his little daughter to Boston.

These fall days Janice was frequently with Miss 'Rill. The little maiden
lady seemed to understand better than most people just how Janice was
troubled by her father's absence, his silence, and his peril. Besides,
when old Mrs. Scattergood did not know, many were the times that 'Rill
and Janice went to Hopewell Drugg's and "tidied up" the cottage for him.
'Rill would not go without Janice, and they usually stole in by the side
door without saying a word to the storekeeper. He was grateful for their
aid, and little Lottie was benefited by their ministrations.

Then another letter came from Broxton Day. He admitted that the two
armies were very near--one between him and communication with his
friends over the Rio Grande--and that operations at the mine had
completely ceased. Yet he felt it his duty to remain, even though the
property was "between two fires," as it were.

Ere this Janice had sent off for an up-to-date map of northern Mexico
and the Texan border. She and Marty and Mr. Day had pored over it
evenings and had now marked the very spot in the hills where the mine
was located. The girl subscribed for a New York newspaper, too, and that
came in the evening mail. So they followed the movements of the Federal
and the Constitutionalist armies as closely as possible from the news
reports, and Janice read about each battle with deeper and deeper
anxiety.

Had her uncle and aunt been wise they would have interfered in this
occupation, or at least, they would not have encouraged it. Janice lost
her cheerfulness and her rosy cheeks. Aunt 'Mira declared she drooped
"like a sick chicken."

"Ye mustn't pay so much 'tention to them papers," she co