he remembered the jibes, and doubts, and covert sneers of the
Middleton people, her father's death, her own anger and revolt, when she
had suddenly decided, in the face of their council, entreaties, and
commands to take up his work where he had left it. With kaleidoscopic
rapidity her thoughts flew over the events of the ensuing months--the
meeting with Vil Holland, her disappointment in the Watts ranch, her eager
acceptance of the sheep camp, the long weary weeks of patiently riding
along rock walls, taking each valley in turn, the growing fear of running
out of funds before she could locate the claim. She shuddered as she
thought of Monk Bethune, and of how nearly she had fallen a victim to his
machinations. Her thoughts returned to Vil Holland, her "guardian devil of
the hills," who had turned out to be in reality a guardian angel in
disguise. "Very much in disguise," she smiled, "with his jug of whisky."
Nobody who had helped make up her little world of people in the hill
country was forgotten, the Thompsons, the Samuelsons, and the Wattses--she
thought of them all. "Why, I--I love every one of them," she cried, as
though the discovery surprised her. "They're all, every one of them, real
friends--they're not like the others, the smug, sleek, best citizens of
Middleton. And I'll not forget one of them. We'll file that whole vein from
one end to the other!" Catching up her horse, she mounted, and sat for a
moment irresolute. "I could make town, sometime to-night," she mused, and
then her eyes rested for a moment upon her horse's neck where the white
alkali dust lay upon the rough, sweat-dried hair. "No," she decided. "We'll
go back to the cabin, and you can rest up, and to-morrow we'll start at
daylight."

"Mr. Christie was right," she smiled, as she took the back trail for
Monte's Creek. "I don't have to teach school. But, I wonder how he
could have gotten that 'hunch,' as he called it? When I've been
searching for the claim for months?"

In a little valley that ran parallel to Monte's Creek, Patty
encountered Microby Dandeline. The girl was lying stretched at full
length upon the ground and did not notice her approach until she was
almost on her, then she leaped to her feet, regarded her for a moment,
and, with a frightened cry, sprang into the bush and scrambled out of
sight along the steep side of a ravine. In vain Patty called, but her
only answer was the diminishing sounds of the girl's scrambling
flight. "What