l
never let you hear the last of it. It's the Lord's own way of
disposing things, and a better one than I could cipher out, if I do
say it."

Certainly Mrs. Trent had no objection to make to so comfortable a
settlement of a perplexing question; and in due time the Bernals left
Sobrante forever; and of their lives at the mission those whom they
had known so long were henceforth to hear little, "and care less,"
according to the satisfied ranchmen.

Mr. Cornell, the expert, came, inspected, reserved his opinion, and
departed; but Ninian Sharp had gathered enough from the visitor's few
sentences, idly dropped, to feel quite convinced that the thing was
worth carrying farther. So he, too, left Sobrante; but, after a brief
sojourn in Los Angeles, reappeared, in company with Morris Hale and a
trio of prospectors, representing much capital. All this was very
exciting to the simple household; and Mrs. Trent, at least, felt
infinite relief when, on the eve of Navidad, there were left in it
only those two strangers, who had now become less strangers than
familiar friends.

Gathered about the fireside, which the first of the rainy nights made
doubly enticing, the New York lawyer discussed at length the decision
which the prospectors had made. They considered the mine well worth
working. "In fact, I have reason to believe it will turn out one of
the richest in the whole country. They are willing to advance all
money needed upon certain conditions," and he named them.

These seemed extremely liberal and just to both sides, but Mrs. Trent
did not greatly surprise her listeners when she quietly interposed a
clause to the effect that:

"My husband believed in profit-sharing. It was his ambition to put
Sobrante and its various interests into such an operation. I want all
our 'boys' to enjoy the benefits of that which God has given us. They
will contribute their labor and share in its results; share richly if
I can have my will."

"Your will is doubtless law, madam," answered Mr. Hale, courteously.

"And if the mine is worked, I want our dear friend, Ninian Sharp, to
come here and act as its manager, on behalf of the Sobrante side.
He"--she raised her hand gently, as he started to interrupt--"he must
be paid a much larger salary than he could earn upon the staff of the
Lancet, and would have, I hope, sufficient leisure time to use his pen
in other literary work, such as he tells me he has never had the
chance to do."

For the