ed by Hanson. The latter refused to come inside when he
knew Miss Pederstone was there.

"Better run home, Eilie,--out the front way!"

"Is he all right, daddy?"

"Yes,--back to normal."

"Oh, I'm so glad. You won't be long?"

"Fifteen minutes!"

"Good night, Mr. Ralston!" she said, scrutinizing him in slight
perplexity.

"Good night!" returned Phil, still keeping to the shadows.

CHAPTER VIII

Like Man, Like Horse

With the passing days, Phil found Sol Hanson a man of rugged
simplicity, as full of fun and frolic as a child; a man strong as a
lion, an excellent blacksmith and, what was more to Phil's advantage,
a kind and unselfish teacher who was willing to impart to his willing
pupil--as John Royce Pederstone had been--all he knew of his ancient,
noble and virile calling.

Phil, with a natural aptitude and a delight in at last doing work
of a practical nature, was soon able to shoe a horse, temper and
weld iron, bolt and rivet a gate and mend broken farm implements with
considerable skill, much to the open-minded and childlike Hanson's
pleasure and astonishment.

Phil gloried in the knowledge of returning vigour and in the steadily
increasing size and power of his biceps. His bones no longer showed an
anxiety to burst through his skin. The tired ache, after a little
exertion, was no longer with him. His chest broadened by inches and
his body took on the buoyancy and elasticity that were his real
birthright, but of which the close confinement of Ukalla had almost
robbed him for good.

Jim Langford delighted in this physical change even more than did Phil
himself. He insisted on sparring and wrestling with Phil in the
evenings; and, when the latter began more and more to hold his own,
Jim chuckled and chuckled to himself in anticipation of some amusing
future event he knew was sure to come along sooner or later. When
these amusements palled, they threw their latent energies into the
roping of a post in the long-suffering Mrs. Clunie's orchard, and
later the moving and more elusive objects on the ranges.

All this time, Phil saw little or nothing of Mayor Brenchfield, for
his were busy days, and Brenchfield's fields of operation were seldom
within the confines of the blacksmith shop.

Only once had Eileen Pederstone visited the forge since her father had
gone on his electioneering campaign, and that was one afternoon during
Phil's dinner hour when she had run in hurriedly to have her horse
s