nama
for some time, and may have to go thence to New York, and thence take
a steamer to Europe. I may find on my arrival that the young lady is
absent from home, perhaps travelling with her father, and there may be
delays."

"My uncle is not her father," Frank said; "she is a ward of his. But I
will not be impatient; not for six months will I give up such hope as I
have."

"There is one more thing before I say good night," Mr. Adams said. "I
have been in great need, and know how hard it is to struggle when luck
is against one, and I should like to give a small sum as a sort of
thank-offering for the success which has attended me. In a mining camp
there must be many whom a little might enable to tide on until luck
turns. Will you be my almoner? Here is a bag with a hundred ounces of
gold, the last we got to-day from our claim. Will you take it, and from
time to time give help in the way of half a sack of flour and other
provisions to men who may be down in the world from a run of ill-luck,
and not from any fault of their own."

"I will gladly do so," Frank replied; "such a fund as this would enable
me to gladden the hearts of scores of men. You can rely upon it, sir,
that I will take care to see that it is laid out in accordance with your
instructions."

After leaving the tent, Frank found James Adams sitting down on a log a
short distance away.

"I would not disturb you," the latter said, "as I thought perhaps you
were having a chat with my father--indeed he told me he should like to
have a talk with you alone; but I want myself to tell you how conscious
I am that I owe my happiness to you. Has my father told you how I am
situated, and that I am going home to claim the dearest girl in the
world, if, as I hope and believe, I shall find she has waited for me?"

"Your father has told me more," Frank said; "he has told me how nobly
you devoted your life to his, and why, and I am truly glad that so much
good has come of our meeting. More than that first little help I must
disclaim, for it was Abe and not I who believed in your father's dreams,
which I confess I had no shadow of belief in, though they have, so
unaccountably to me, been verified."

"Nothing you can say, Frank, will minimise what you have done for us.
You saved my father's life. If it had not been for you his dream would
never have been carried into effect, and he would now be lying in the
graveyard on the top of the hill, and I should be working hopel