he same order as Firio's. Lonely as they were, they were hardly
more lonely than their elders, who were supposed to have the philosophy
of adults.

No Jack singing out "Hello!" on the main street! No Jack looking up from
work to ask boyishly: "Am I learning? Oh, I'll be the boss rancher yet!"
No Jack springing all sorts of conceits, not of broad humor, but the kind
that sort of set a "twinkling in your insides," as Bob Worther expressed
it! No Jack inspiring a feeling deeper than twinkles on his sad days! He
had been an improvement in town life that became indispensable once it
was absent. Little Rivers was fairly homesick for him.

"How did we ever get along without him before he came, anyway?" Bob
Worther demanded.

Then another new-comer, as distinctive from the average settler as Jack
was, diverted talk into another channel, without, however, reconciling
the people to their loss.

XVIII

ANOTHER STRANGER ARRIVES

If the history of Little Rivers were to be written in chapter headings
the first would be, "Jasper Ewold Founded the Town"; the second, "Jack
Wingfield Arrived"; and the third, "John Prather Arrived."

While Jack came in chaps and spurs, bearing an argosy of fancy, Prather
came by rail, carrying a suitcase in a conventional and businesslike
fashion. Bill Deering, as the representative of a spring wagon that did
the local omnibus and express business, was on the platform of the
station when the 11:15 rolled in, and sang out, in a burst of joy, as the
stranger, a man in the early twenties, stepped off the Pullman:

"What's this, Jack? Back by train--and in store clothes? Well, of
all--" and saw his mistake when the stranger's full face was turned
toward him.

"Yes, I am sometimes called Jack," said the stranger pleasantly. "Now,
where have we met before? Perhaps in Goldfield? No matter. It is time we
got acquainted. My name is Prather, and yours?"

As he surveyed the man before him, Bill was as fussed as the giant of the
fairy story had been by a display of yellow. He was uncertain whether he
was giving his own baptismal name or somebody's else.

"By Jing! No, I don't know you, but you sure are the dead spit of a
fellow I do know!" said Bill.

"Well, he has done me the favor of introducing me to you, anyway," said
Prather, who had a remarkably ingratiating smile. "I would like a place
to stop while I take a look around. Is there a hotel?"

"Rooms over the store and grub at Mrs. Smith's