had forgotten the thing that she held so sacred that, for its sake,
she had followed me in the rain for some toilsome upward miles.

"Go back and get it instantly, instantly!" cried my usually calm
sister, wringing her hands in distress. The distress was so
unnecessarily acute for the cause that I resented it.

"The coat is all right, Jessie; it is safe; and I do not want to go
back there now."

"Why not?"

I told her.

"You must!" said Jessie, with whitening lips. "You must! Come!" and
she rushed up the trail toward the cavern.

"What have you done with Ralph?" I asked, hurrying after her. Jessie
turned an anguished glance back at me over her shoulder.

"I have left him locked up in the house with a pair of scissors and a
picture book; hurry!"

"I hope they'll keep him from thinking of the matches," I said,
bitterly. It seemed to me at that moment that Jessie showed more
concern for the out-worn garment of the dead than she did for the
safety of the living.

Big Jim had gone back into the cavern; he, too, had evidently been
searching it, for when, at the sound of our approaching footsteps, he
appeared at the entrance, it was with father's coat in his hands.
Jessie went boldly to his side.

"I want that coat, if you please," she said firmly.

Jim backed off a little, holding the coat out at arm's length, and
examining it critically.

"Whose is it?" he asked.

"It was my father's; it is ours; please give it to me."

Big Jim shook his head. "No; your dog done tore my coat half offen my
back; your sister made way with my tonic--I'm 'bleeged to take it for
my lungs--an' she's got my gun an' fixin's, an' won't give 'em up. I
reckon as I'll jest keep this coat till she forks them things over."

"Give him his things, Leslie," Jessie commanded.

"No," I remonstrated; "no, Jessie, if I do he will shoot Guard; I'm
sure of it."

Jessie turned on the dog: "Go home! go home, sir!" she cried, stamping
her foot. Guard slunk off, his tail between his legs, and his bright
eyes fixed reproachfully on me. I threw the gun with its trappings at
the cowboy's feet. "There, take them! You can shoot me if you like. I
threw away your whiskey."

"I wouldn't 'a' cared a bit if you'd 'a' drunk it, as I reckoned you
did," Jim returned with a light laugh, as he picked up the gun. "I
ain't agoin' to hurt you; tole you so in the first place. Got your
little handkercher yet, I have. Here's the coat." He tossed it into
Jessie's o