se and rigid, and
rendered the mind unusually clear and active.

On Monday, Van Dorn left for Silver City, his errand ostensibly being
to replace the broken portions of the machinery, now nearly finished,
which were necessary for its completion.

All felt that the climax to which they had looked forward was now very
near, and Lyle, who perhaps realized the situation the most keenly of
any, was restless and excited, something very unusual for her.

Her search, thus far unsuccessful, had not been abandoned, and as she
sat in the little porch on that particular afternoon, idle because she
could not fix her attention upon book or work, it seemed as if the
years of her early life among the mountains stood out with more than
usual distinctness. Among other trifling objects, there was suddenly
recalled to her memory a box which used always to stand in Mrs.
Maverick's little bed-room, and which had looked wonderfully
attractive to her childish eyes on account of a flowered red and green
paper with which it was covered. Once, overcome with infantile
curiosity, she had tried to open it, and had received a severe
whipping therefor. She could remember it very distinctly now, a box
about eighteen inches square, with no fastening, but always securely
tied with a stout cord. Late years it had been removed to the little
attic and she had forgotten it. Where was it now? She had not seen it
for months, or was it years? What could it have contained?

Miss Gladden was occupied with a new magazine. Morton and Ned
Rutherford had gone out for a stroll among the rocks. Quietly Lyle
slipped up-stairs, and going to the dark, dusty attic, began searching
for the object so suddenly recalled to mind.

She could find no trace of it, however, and had about concluded that
it must have been destroyed, when her attention was arrested by a pile
of old clothing and rubbish on the floor in a particularly dark
corner, behind some large boxes. A slight examination revealed that
there was some solid substance underneath. Hastily overturning the
rubbish, her eyes descried in the dim light the identical red and
green papered box familiar to her childhood.

With an exclamation of joy she dragged it forth from its hiding place,
and going over to the one tiny window, covered with dust and cobwebs,
she sat down with the newly found treasure, first arranging a pile of
old bedding as a screen between herself and the door, to preclude all
possibility of her whe