gatha's tired," Mrs. Farnam broke in. "She needs a rest and I'm going
to get her some food. You can ask her what you like when I bring her
back."

"I suppose you want to satisfy your curiosity first," Farnam suggested.

"We're not going to talk about _mining_," Mrs. Farnam rejoined.
"However, I must do you justice; you took Agatha's side from the first.
After all, your judgment's good now and then."

She took Agatha away and when they had gone George remarked: "I can't
grip the thing yet. It's hard to get rid of a fixed idea you've had from
boyhood. Still I ought to have known that Agatha wouldn't undertake a
job she couldn't put over."

It was getting dark when Mrs. Farnam and the girl came back, and George
said, "Now I want to know all about your trip. Begin where you left the
cars and go right on."

"That will take some time," Mrs. Farnam interposed. "Shall I light the
lamp in the room?"

"I think not," said Agatha, and smiled. "My story goes best with the
twilight in the open. We had no lamps and pretty furniture in the bush."

She was silent for a few moments, looking across the orchard. The fruit
trees were blurred and dim and the pines were black, but the sky shone
softly red and green above their ragged tops. Then she began to talk;
disjointedly at first, but the scenes she recalled got clearer as she
went on, and she forgot her audience. It was her business to make
things plain; she had studied this part of her vocation and
unconsciously used her power to seize and hold the other's interest, but
she did not know that she was drawing a lifelike portrait of her guide.
Mrs. Farnam knew, and with a tactful question here and there led the
girl forward.

It was, however, impossible to relate her journey and leave Thirlwell
out. He took the leading part that belonged to him, and his character
was firmly outlined by her memory of the things he had said and done.
With something besides artistic talent Agatha unconsciously developed
the sketch, dwelling upon his cheerfulness, courage, and resource. She
told the others how he had nerved her to resolute effort when they had
difficulties to overcome, sympathized when she was tired, and held the
confidence of his men. Moreover, she made it obvious that there had been
no romantic philandering. He had given her an unselfish, brotherly
protection.

The narrative lost something of its force after she came to the finding
of the broken range. She saw she had been franke