myself I can pick up a bit of instruction on riding among
those fine 'boys' of the little captain's. I'll send a return
message--no, I won't, either. I'll trust to luck and surprise them.
Now to get ready."

A feeling that he was going "home" possessed the young man, and all
his simple preparations strengthened rather than weakened him.
Activity was his habit, and an hour before the train left the city he
had completed his personal arrangements with his office, his bank and
his landlord. He had paid his nurse the same salary she would have
received had he required her services for the fortnight, as expected,
and was ready for what came next.

"I feel as if I were entering upon a new life, instead of taking a
rest cure," he remarked to Mr. Hale, when that gentleman met him at
the station, and explained that a Christmas invitation had come for
himself, also. "And I say we'll make it the jolliest holiday those
people down there ever knew. I sent a letter to your address, after I
'phoned, and made out a list of things I'd like you to see to.
Presents and so on; and I'll write as soon as I get there and let you
know what's up with the sharpshooter. Some trouble, of course, but
reckon it can't be much. Ha! we're off. Good-by. Forget nothing, add
as much as you please to my list and send the bills to me. Good-by."

The train rolled noiselessly away from the long platform, and the
reporter for the Lancet stowed himself comfortably away on his
cushions and slept as he had not slept before since this nervous
illness attacked him. Not once did he awake, till the conductor
touched him on the shoulder, and stated:

"End of the line, sir. Time to leave."

Ninian sat up and shook himself, still feeling a bit dazed from his
heavy slumber, and had scarcely realized the fact of his arrival
before a man limped into the car and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Well done, lad. Welcome to Sobrante!"

"Hello, Mr. Marsh! You here? Sobrante? I thought----"

"Same thing. This is Marion; as near as we can get to our place on the
rails. Remember, don't you? Been sick, eh? You look rather peaked and
I 'low I'd ought----"

"No apologies. Here I am, and am not ill now. Only been a little
overworked; and your telegram, as well as Miss Jessica's letter, came
in the nick of time. Not an hour after the doctor had ordered this
very medicine of change and recreation."

Ephraim looked sharply at his guest and reflected:

"What our business need