They had spent a pleasant time with Uncle Sebastian Burris in Mendocino
County, most glorious of countries in spring. Hiram had expressed the
wish to see Uncle Sebastian again and to tell him all that had befallen
him in driving jerkline to Ragtown. Hiram had learned a great lesson,
he felt. He had left the north woods to do something less prosaic than
driving jerkline, and a series of peculiar incidents had forced him
back into the same old groove again. Yet the once scorned, neglected
task had brought him adventures and a fortune and a splendid girl.
Over all this he wished to marvel with his old benefactor and friend,
and Jo had readily consented to the trip. They had returned for Basil
Filer's trial as the main witnesses for the defense.

The stage brought all three into the town, and for the first time they
saw the new steel and the track-laying engine beyond. Carpenters were
building the roundhouse, and new buildings were going up all over the
village.

Ragtown turned out in a body to meet them. The wagons and teams of
Jerkline Jo's freight outfit were covered with flags, and Jo's proud
skinners paraded the streets, the wagons loaded with cheering
townspeople. Carried on the shoulders of men, the bride and groom were
escorted to the Palace Dance Hall, where a banquet had been prepared,
over which presided Twitter-or-Tweet Orr Tweet.

Far into the night they celebrated, and in all of Ragtown there was
only one who did not attend. This was poor little Lucy Dalles, sobbing
her heart out in her little cabin, her dream of wealth and marriage
with Al Drummond gone.

It was nearly midnight when there came a gentle tapping on her door.
Dashing the tears from her eyes, Lucy walked unsteadily across her
expensive rug and opened the door to a crack. Next moment she found
herself in a pair of strong arms, and her head lay on the breast of
Jerkline Jo.

"There, there, dear! There, there! Don't cry! It's all right--all
right! I know--I understand."

With her arms about the sobbing girl, big-hearted Jerkline Jo, the
desert's grandest product, led the way to one of the big leather chairs
and sat down. Only Lucy's sobs broke the silence, while Jo sat and
smoothed back her pretty hair.

Presently the sobbing ceased, and then Jo rose and, taking her in her
arms again, kissed her and smiled into her eyes.

"You must bathe your eyes now, dear," said Jo, "for Mr. Tweet is coming
to see you pretty soon. He told