e--several delayed epistles, indeed, coming in
a single wrapper.

With them was a letter in the exact script of Juan Dicampa--that
mysterious brigand chief who was Mr. Day's friend--and couched in much
the same flowery phraseology as the former note Janice had received.
It read:

"Senorita:--

"I fain would beg thy pardon--and that most humbly--for my seeming
slight of thy appeal, which reached my headquarters when your humble
servant was busily engaged elsewhere. Thy father, the Senior B. Day,
is safe. He has never for a moment been in danger. The embargo is now
lifted and he may write to thee, sweet senorita, as he may please. The
enemy has been driven from this fair section of my troubled land, and
the smile of peace rests upon us as it rests upon you, dear senorita.
Adios.

"Faithfully thine,

"JUAN DICAMPA."

"Such a strangely boyish letter to come from a bloodthirsty bandit--for
such they say he is. And he is father's friend," sighed Janice,
showing the letter to Nelson Saley. "Oh, dear! I wish daddy would
leave that hateful old mine and come home."

Nevertheless, daddy's return--or his abandonment of the mine--did not
appear imminent. Good news indeed was in Mr. Broxton Day's most recent
letters. The way to the border for ore trains was again open. For six
weeks he had had a large force of peons at work in the mine and a great
amount of ore had been shipped.

There was in the letter a certificate of deposit for several hundred
dollars, and the promise of more in the near future.

"You must be pretty short of feminine furbelows by this time. Be good
to yourself, Janice," wrote Mr. Day.

But his daughter, though possessing her share of feminine vanity in
dress, saw first another use for a part of this unexpected windfall.
She said nothing to a soul but Walky Dexter, however. It was to be a
secret between them.

There was so much going on in Polktown just then that Walky could keep
a secret, as he confessed himself, "without half trying."

"Nelson Haley openin' aour school and takin' up the good work ag'in
where he laid it daown, is suthin' that oughter be noted a-plenty,"
declared Mr. Dexter. "And I will say for 'em, that committee
reinstated him before anybody heard anythin' abeout Jack Besmith havin'
stole the gold coins.

"Sure enough!" went on Walky, "that's another thing that kin honestly
be laid to Lem Parraday's openin' that bar at the Inn. That's where
Jack got the liq