n, and live with my father for a while.
The governor is getting on, you know, and my wife and I must look after
him. Later we shall have an establishment of our own,' was a favourite
speech of his about this time, and usually received with smiles; for the
idea of Tommy Bangs at the head of an 'establishment' was irresistibly
funny to all who knew him.

Things were in this flourishing condition, and Mrs Jo was beginning to
think her trials were over for that year, when a new excitement came.
Several postal cards had arrived at long intervals from Dan, who gave
them 'Care of M. Mason, etc.', as his address. By this means he was
able to gratify his longing for home news, and to send brief messages to
quiet their surprise at his delay in settling. The last one, which came
in September, was dated 'Montana', and simply said:

Here at last, trying mining again; but not going to stay long. All sorts
of luck. Gave up the farm idea. Tell plans soon. Well, busy, and very
happy. D. K.

If they had known what the heavy dash under 'happy' meant, that postal
would have been a very eloquent bit of pasteboard; for Dan was free,
and had gone straight away to the liberty he panted for. Meeting an old
friend by accident, he obliged him at a pinch by acting as overseer
for a time, finding the society even of rough miners very sweet, and
something in the muscular work wonderfully pleasant, after being cooped
up in the brush-shop so long. He loved to take a pick and wrestle with
rock and earth till he was weary--which was very soon; for that year of
captivity had told upon his splendid physique. He longed to go home, but
waited week after week to get the prison taint off him and the haggard
look out of his face. Meanwhile he made friends of masters and men;
and as no one knew his story, he took his place again in the world
gratefully and gladly--with little pride now, and no plans but to do
some good somewhere, and efface the past.

Mrs Jo was having a grand clearing-out of her desk one October day,
while the rain poured outside, and peace reigned in her mansion. Coming
across the postals, she pondered over them, and then put them carefully
away in the drawer labelled 'Boys' Letters', saying to herself, as she
bundled eleven requests for autographs into the waste-paper basket:

'It is quite time for another card, unless he is coming to tell his
plans. I'm really curious to know what he has been about all this year,
and how he's getting o