beries, and although this temporarily concealed his offense
of truancy, the news of the vigilance meeting determined him to keep
his lips sealed. He lay all night wondering how long it would take the
robbers to dig themselves out of the cave, and whether they suspected
their imprisonment was the work of an enemy or only an accident. For
several days he avoided the locality, and even feared the vengeful
appearance of Spanish Pete some night at his father's house. It was
not until the end of a fortnight that he had the courage to revisit the
spot. The tree was in its normal position, but immovable, and a great
quantity of fresh debris at the mouth of the cave convinced him that the
robbers, after escaping, had abandoned it as unsafe. His brother did not
return, and either the activity of the Vigilance Committee or the lack
of a new place of rendezvous seemed to have dispersed the robbers from
the locality, for they were not heard of again.

The next ten years brought an improvement to Mr. Starleigh's fortunes.
Johnny Starleigh, then a student at San Jose, one morning found a
newspaper clipping in a letter from Miss Amelia Stryker. It read as
follows: "The excavators in the new tunnel in Heavystone Ridge lately
discovered the skeletons of two unknown men, who had evidently been
crushed and entombed some years previously, by the falling of a large
tree over the mouth of their temporary refuge. From some river gold
found with them, they were supposed to be part of the gang of sluice
robbers who infested the locality some years ago, and were hiding from
the Vigilants."

For a few days thereafter Johnny Starleigh was thoughtful and reserved,
but he did not refer to the paragraph in answering the letter. He
decided to keep it for later confidences, when Miss Stryker should
become Mrs. Starleigh.

MISS PEGGY'S PROTEGES

The string of Peggy's sunbonnet had become untied--so had her right
shoe. These were not unusual accidents to a country girl of ten, but as
both of her hands were full she felt obliged to put down what she was
carrying. This was further complicated by the nature of her burden--a
half-fledged shrike and a baby gopher--picked up in her walk. It was
impossible to wrap them both in her apron without serious peril to one
or the other; she could not put either down without the chance of its
escaping. "It's like that dreadful riddle of the ferryman who had to
take the wolf and the sheep in his boat," said Pe