nging material, of a delicate, golden tint,
combined with a reddish brown velvet, which suited her style of beauty
to perfection; and Lyle, in dainty white apron, her beautiful hair
loosely plaited in an enormous braid, prepared to act in the capacity
of waiter.

Never were guests served so deftly, or with such grace and dignity;
she seemed absolutely free from all coquettish airs, and although the
glances of the two gentlemen were about evenly divided between the
beauty at their side and the fair waitress, Lyle carried herself with
an equanimity that was remarkable. Not until the arrival, later, of
the other boarders, Morgan, the general superintendent, and Haight,
the mining expert,--so-called, though his expertness embraced much
beside mining,--was there any change in her demeanor; then her eyes
flashed, her lips curled, and a look of superb scorn passed over her
face, an expression that reminded Rutherford unaccountably of the face
he had seen at Valley City.

Old Jim Maverick and his sons were not present, having taken their
meal hastily in the kitchen. Beside her husband and sons, poor, old
Mrs. Maverick was positively refined. She was a kind-hearted, motherly
woman, and looked as though, in her younger days, she might have been
very pretty, but poverty, hard work and abuse had very nearly
obliterated all traces of youthful bloom, and her face had a hopeless,
appealing look which was pathetic.

A little later, Mr. Blaisdell arrived, rubbing his hands and smiling
in his usual complacent manner, and he entertained the guests for some
time with anecdotes of western life, some of them very well told, but
in most of which it was noticeable that he bore a very prominent
part.

After dinner, Houston returned to the office in company with Morgan
and the expert, two new characters which he was studying attentively.
The former was a tall, raw-boned individual, with a genial,
good-natured manner, but a weak face; one who would willingly be a
tool for any villain, but an unreliable tool. He would betray his best
friend, and knowing nothing of honor himself, he did not believe in
its existence, among men or women. To him, all men were rogues, all
business simply gambling on a large scale, and his only care was to be
on the winning side.

Haight was a small, dark man, with soft, insinuating manner, and, in
accordance with his pet theory that every person, high or low, rich or
poor, might sometime be useful to him in the