rm, Jack sitting on a fallen tree, the map spread out on
his knees.

For some minutes Jack sat silent, his eyes roaming over the landscape.
Below him stretched an undulating mantle of velvet, laid loosely over
valley, ravine and hill, embroidered in tints of corn-yellow, purplings
of full-blossomed clover and the softer greens of meadow and swamp. In
and out, now straight, now in curves and bows, was threaded a ribbon
of silver, with here and there a connecting mirror in which flashed the
sun. Bordering its furthermost edge a chain of mountains lost themselves
in low, rolling clouds, while here and there, in its many crumplings,
were studded jewels of barn stack and house, their facets aflame in the
morning light.

Jack absorbed it all, its beauty filling his soul, the sunshine bathing
his cheeks. Soon all trace of his disappointment vanished: with Ruth
here,--with his work to occupy him,--and this mighty, all-inspiring,
all-intoxicating sweep of loveliness spread out, his own and Ruth's
every hour of the day and night, what did ore beds or anything else
matter?

MacFarlane's voice woke him to consciousness. He had called to him
before, but the boy had not heard.

"As I have just remarked, Jack," MacFarlane began again, "there is
nothing but an earthquake will make your property of any use. It is a
low-grade ore, I should say, and tunnelling and shoring would eat it up.
Wipe it off the books. There are thousands of acres of this kind of land
lying around loose from here to the Cumberland Valley. It may get better
as you go down--only an assay can tell about that--but I don't think
it will. To begin sinking shafts might mean sinking one or a dozen; and
there's nothing so expensive. I am sorry, Jack, but wipe it out. Some
bright scoundrel might sell stock on it, but they'll never melt any of
it up into stove plate."

"All right, sir," Jack said at last, with a light laugh. "It is the same
old piece of bread, I reckon, and it has fallen on the same old buttered
side. Uncle Peter told me to beware of bubbles--said they were hard
to carry around. This one has burst before I got my hand on it. All
right--let her go! I hope Ruth won't take it too much to heart. Here,
boy, get hold of this map and put it with the other traps in the wagon.
And now, Mr. MacFarlane, what comes next?"

Before the day was over MacFarlane had perfected his plans. The town was
to be avoided as too demoralizing a shelter for the men, and barrack