from the road.

"Well, yes--I laid my hands on him pretty strong. Didn't I, old man?"
And the stranger glanced to where Uncle Pros stood, still occasionally
interrogating the back of his neck with fumbling fingers. "Don't you
worry, sis'; a girl like you will get a miracle when she has to have it.
If I happened to be the miracle you needed, why, that's good. As for my
profession--my business in life--there was a lot of folks that used to
name me the Lightning Bone-setter. For my own part, I'd just as soon
you'd call me a human engineer. I pride myself on knowing how the
structure of man ought to work, and keeping the bearings right and the
machinery properly levelled up. Never mind. Next time you have use for a
miracle, it'll be along on schedule time, without you knowing what name
you need to call it. You're that sort." With that curious, onlooker's
smile of his and with a nod of farewell, he plunged down the steep.

CHAPTER XXIII

A CLUE

They stood together watching, as the tall form retreated around the
sharp curves of the red clay road, or leaped lightly and hardily down
the cut-offs. They waved back to their late companion when, climbing
into the waiting buggy below, he was finally driven away. Johnnie turned
and looked long at her uncle with swimming eyes, as he stood gazing
where the vehicle had disappeared. She finally laid a tremulous hand
on his arm.

"Oh, Uncle Pros," she said falteringly, "I can't believe it yet. But
you--you do understand me now, don't you? You know me. I'm Johnnie."

The old man wheeled sharply, and laughed.

"See here, honey," he said with a tinge of irritation in his tones. "I
reckon I've been crazy. From what you say, looks like I haven't known my
best friends for a long time. But I have got as much sense now as I ever
had, and I don't remember anything about that other business. Last thing
I know of was fussin' with Gid Himes and Shade Buckheath about my silver
ore. By Joe! I bet they got that stuff when I was took--Johnnie, was I
took sudden?"

He seated himself on the lush, ancient, deep-rooted dooryard grass
where, a half-hour gone, he had knelt, a harmless lunatic, playing
mumblety peg. Half reluctantly Johnnie sank down beside him.

"Yes--yes--yes, Uncle Pros," the girl agreed, impatience mounting in her
once more, with the assurance of her uncle's safety and well-being.
"They did get your specimens; but we can fix all that; there's a worse
thing happened now." An