acking case, covered to match, served as a stool,
and upon the wall above the table hung a small mirror. Four or five
prints, looking oddly out of place, hung upon the dark log
walls--pictures that had always hung in her room at Aunt Rebecca's,
and which she had managed to crowd into one of the trunks. A fond
imagination had pictured them adorning the walls of her "apartment"
which was to be located in a spacious wing of the great Watts ranch
house. "I don't care, I'm glad there wasn't any big ranch house," she
muttered. "It's lots nicer this way, and I'm absolutely independent.
We prospectors can't hope to be regular in our habits--and I've always
wanted a house of my very own. Ten times better!" she exclaimed
vehemently. "There won't be anybody to ask me every day or two if I've
made my strike yet? And how much gold I brought back to-day? And all
the other fool questions that seem so humorous to questioners and
hearers, but which hurt and sting and rankle when you're sick at heart
with disappointment, and gritting your teeth to keep up your courage
and your belief in yourself. Oh I know! Daddy didn't know I knew, but
I did--how it hurt when the village wits would slyly wink at each
other as they asked their cruel questions. Even when I was a little
girl I knew, and I could have _killed_ them!" Her glance rested upon
the canvas covered pack that lay in the corner at the foot of the
bunk. "There are his things--his outfit, they call it here. I'm going
to examine it." The sack of stiff oiled canvas, with its contents, was
heavy, but the girl dragged it to the middle of the floor and
squatting beside it, stared in dismay at the stout padlock and the
chain that threaded a set of grommets. She was about to search for the
key among the contents of her father's pockets which she had placed in
the tray of her trunk, when her eye fell upon a thin slit close along
the edge of the hem that held the grommets--a slit that, pulled wide,
disclosed an aperture through which the contents of the sack could be
easily removed but withal so cunningly contrived as to escape casual
inspection. With an angry exclamation the girl stared at the gaping
hole. "Someone has cut it!" she cried. "He doesn't seem to have taken
much, though. It's about as full as it can be." She began hurriedly
to remove the contents, piling them about her upon the floor. "I
wonder if--if he left any papers, or note books, or maps, or things
that would enable anyone to