enterprise
of its local business men. Bill had forwarded the first clean-up.

And close on the heels of this--ten days later, to be exact--he came
home.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE BOMB

"You great bear," Hazel laughed, in the shelter of his encircling arms.
"My, it's good to see you again."

She pushed herself back a little and surveyed him admiringly, with a
gratified sense of proprietorship. The cheeks of him were tanned to a
healthy brown, his eyes clear and shining. The offending flesh had
fallen away on the strenuous paths of the Klappan. He radiated
boundless vitality, strength, alertness, that perfect co-ordination of
mind and body that is bred of faring resourcefully along rude ways.
Few of his type trod the streets of Granville. It was a product solely
of the outer places. And for the time being the old, vivid emotion
surged strong within her. She thrilled at the touch of his hand, was
content to lay her head on his shoulder and forget everything in the
joy of his physical nearness. But the maid announced dinner, and her
man must be fed. He had missed luncheon on the train, he told her, by
reason of an absorbing game of whist.

"Come, then," said she. "You must be starving."

They elected to spend the evening quietly at home, as they used to do.
To Hazel it seemed quite like old times. Bill told her of the Klappan
country, and their prospects at the mine.

"It's going to be a mighty big thing," he declared.

"I'm so glad," said Hazel.

"We've got a group of ten claims. Whitey Lewis and the original
stakers hold an interest in their claims. I, acting as agent for these
other fellows in the company, staked five more. I took in eight more
men--and, believe me, things were humming when I left. Lewis is a
great rustler. He had out lots of timber, and we put in a wing dam
three hundred feet long, so she can flood and be darned; they'll keep
the sluice working just the same. And that quartz lead will justify a
fifty-thousand-dollar mill. So I'm told by an expert I took in to look
it over. And, say, I went in by the ranch. Old Jake has a fine
garden. He's still pegging away with the mule 'und Gretchen, der cow.'
I offered him a chance to make a fat little stake at the mine, but he
didn't want to leave the ranch. Great old feller, Jake. Something of
a philosopher in his way. Pretty wise old head. He'll make good, all
right."

In the morning, Bill ate his breakfast and started down