ment as a common miner,
though I cannot hold out the slightest hope that you will ever recover
a dollar from your property. Still, I will make inquiries, and let you
know anything I may learn."

"Thank you, sir."

"Do you know anything about boats?" asked the manager, abruptly
changing the subject.

"Yes, sir; I have handled boats more or less all my life."

"Good! Then I want you to take charge of a gang of men whom you will
find awaiting you on the company's tug down at the landing. They are
going some distance up the coast, to recover whatever may be found of
a valuable timber raft belonging to us, and wrecked near Laughing Fish
Cove during the gale of two days ago. All our logs are marked 'W. P.'
If you find any such in possession of other parties, you will lay
claim to them, and even take them by force if necessary. The tug will
leave you at the cove, where you will establish a camp, and to which
you will raft the recovered logs, holding them against her return,
which will be in about a week. Here is a note of introduction to her
captain. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir; I think I do."

"Then you may start at once."

"Very well, sir;" and the young man, realizing his employer's love of
promptness, rose to leave.

"By the way," said the other, as he reached the door, "is your name
Peril?"

"No, sir; it is Peveril."

"Richard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then this letter is probably for you. It has lain here several days,
awaiting a claimant."

With this Major Arkell handed the young man a dainty-looking missive
that he acknowledged to be for him, and which, as he thrust it into
his pocket, he saw with a thrill of joy was addressed in the
handwriting of Rose Bonnifay.

CHAPTER XI

NELLY TREFETHEN FINDS A LETTER

Having donned his best suit for the interview with Major Arkell, and
realizing that his mine clothing would be more in keeping with the job
now on hand, Peveril first hastened home to make the change. He found
only Mrs. Trefethen in the house, and at sight of him she expressed an
eager curiosity to learn the result of his recent interview.

"It's all right," he laughed, as he bounded up the narrow stairway
leading to his room. "I'm to turn sailor, and be captain of a craft
somewhere up the coast."

"Whativer can lad mean?" exclaimed the perplexed woman. "'Im a sailor!
Did iver any one 'ear the like o' that? Oh, Maister Peril! be iver
coming back?"

"Of course I am!" shouted Peveril fro