made a good bargain, sir, if I do say it," said Jack Holden.
"For my own part, I wasn't so particular about selling the mine, but my
young partner here is differently placed, and the money will come handy
to him."

"You are rather young for a mine owner," said Mr. Compton, regarding
Herbert with some curiosity.

"Yes, sir; I believe I am the youngest mine owner here."

"Are you a resident of this State?"

"Only temporarily, sir. I came here with a friend whose lungs are weak."

"You expect to return to the East soon?"

"Yes, sir."

"When you do, come to see me. I am a commission merchant in Boston. If
it is your intention to follow a business life, I may be able to find
you a place."

"Thank you, sir; I should like nothing better."

"To-morrow," said Mr. Compton, "I will come here and complete the
purchase."

"Jack," said Herbert, when the new purchaser of the mine had left them,
"there is no work for us here. Come with me, and let us together tell
Mr. Melville the good news."

"A good thought, my lad!"

So the two mounted their horses, and left Deer Creek behind them. They
little suspected how sorely they were needed.

CHAPTER XXXVII. TO THE RESCUE.

Herbert and his companion drew near the forest cabin, which had been the
home of the former, without a suspicion that George Melville was in such
dire peril. The boy was, indeed, thinking of him, but it was rather of
the satisfaction his employer would feel at his good fortune.

"Somehow I feel in a great hurry to get there, Jack," said Herbert. "I
shall enjoy telling Mr. Melville of my good luck."

"He's a fine chap, that Melville," said Jack Holden, meaning no
disrespect by this unceremonious fashion of speech.

"That he is! He's the best friend I ever had, Jack," returned Herbert,
warmly.

"It's a pity he's ailing."

"Oh, he's much stronger than he was when he came out here. All the
unfavorable symptoms have disappeared."

"Maybe he'll outgrow it. I had an uncle that was given up to die of
consumption, when he was about Melville's age, and he died only last
year at the age of seventy-five."

"That must have been slow consumption, Jack," said Herbert, smiling.
"If Mr. Melville can live as long as that, I think neither he nor his
friends will have reason to complain."

"Is he so rich, lad?"

"I don't know how rich, but I know he has plenty of money. How much
power a rich man has," said Herbert, musingly. "Now, Mr. Melville has
ch