thers,
partners with him in new enterprises in the petroleum field, were making
sudden fortunes. His turn had not come yet, but they assured him that
his ventures promised even more than those that had enriched them.
Faster than gold came out of Casey Town, Keith used it in Oklahoma and
Texas. He had come west to view his resources, to strain them to the
utmost, to overlook the ground with the eye of the past-master of
promotion, who could conjure up visions of wealth from the barest
indication of pay-ore, trusting to find inspiration for further
flotation on his return to New York, his market-place, "fresh from the
field of operations."

The engine uncoupled and panted off, leaving the car at rest on the
spur-track. The fox-faced secretary came out, held the door open. Some
one followed Molly Casey. Sandy surmised it must be Donald Keith, but he
had sight for nothing except the slender figure whose radiant face,
between a Panama hat and a dustcoat of pongee silk, shone straight at
him. It was Molly, but a glorified Molly, woman not girl. The freckles
had gone, the snub nose had become defined, the eyes of Irish blue
seemed to have deepened in hue back of their smudgy lashes. The wide
mouth was the same, scarlet and soft as cactus blossom, smiling, opening
in a glad cry....

"Sandy!" Her arms went out toward him in greeting over the brass
railing. Then Grit, catapulting from ground to platform, with frantic
yaps of welcome, fairly bowled over the darky with his mounting block
and bounded up into Molly's embrace. There was confusion on the platform
for a moment with Grit as the nucleus. Another person had come out,
evidently Miss Nicholson. She was neither undernourished nor thin, she
was medium-sized and her bones were well covered. She had the general
appearance of a white rabbit and the manners of a maternally intentioned
but none too efficient hen. "Amenable" described her in one word. The
darky was bringing out kitbags and suit-cases, piling them on the
ground. Sam tackled him and showed him the flivver.

"There's a cupple of trunks," said the porter.

"We'll come back for them," Sam told him and helped him pile in the
smaller baggage.

Keith descended first, Molly darted by his extended hand and ran
straight to Sandy, who had dismounted.

"I'm going to hug you, and Mormon and Sam, as soon as we get home to the
ranch," she cried. "Home! I'm so glad to be here. Pronto, you beauty,
and my own bay, Blaze! Do yo