reach the Summit alone. With the lapse of an hour he began to feel
uneasy at Jim's prolonged absence in spite of the cold indifference
of the household. Suddenly he heard stamping in the porch, a muttered
exclamation, and the voices of the two brothers in the hall. "Why, dad!
what's up? Yo' look half drowned!"

The door opened upon the sodden, steaming figure of the old man whom he
had met on the road, followed by the two sons. But he was evidently
more occupied and possessed by some mental passion than by his physical
discomfort. Yet strong and dominant over both, he threw off his wet coat
and waistcoat as he entered, and marched directly to the fire. Utterly
ignoring the presence of a stranger, he suddenly turned and faced his
family.

"Half drowned. Yes! and I might have been hull drowned for that matter.
The back water of the Fork is all over Watson's, and the bridge is gone.
I stumbled onto this end of it in the dark, and went off, head first,
into twenty feet of water! Tried to fight my way out, but the current
was agin me. I'd bin down twice, and was going down for the third
time, when somebody grabbed me by the scruff o' my neck and under the
arm--so!--and swam me to the bank! When I scrambled up I sez: 'I can't
see your face,' sez I, 'I don't know who you are,' sez I, 'but I reckon
you're a white man and clear grit,' sez I, 'and there's my hand on it!'
And he grabs it and sez, 'We're quits,' and scooted out o' my sight.
And," continued the old man staring at their faces and raising his voice
almost to a scream, "who do you think it was? Why, THAT SNEAKIN' HOUND
OF A BROTHER OF YOURS--JIM! Jim! the scallawag that I booted outer the
ranch five years ago, crawlin', writhin' back again after all these
years to insult his old father's gray hairs! And some of you--by
God--once thought that I was hard on him!"

*****

The sun was shining brightly the next morning as the young editor halted
the up coach in the now dried hollow. As he was clambering to a seat
beside the driver, his elbow was jogged at the window. Looking down he
saw the face of Jim.

"We had a gay talk last night, remembering old times, didn't we?" said
the prodigal cheerfully.

"Yes, but--where are you going now?"

"Back to Australia, I reckon! But it was mighty good to drop in on the
old homestead once more!"

"Rather," said the editor, clinging to the window and lingering in
mid-air to the manifest impatience of Yuba Bill; "but I say--look