Peninsula on a junkful of Black Flags, and I think I'll
have it brought up. And there are about thirty of my men on the yacht
who wouldn't ask for their wages in a year if I'd let them go on shore
and mix up in a fight. When do you suppose this--"

A heavy step and the jingle of spurs on the bare floor of the bungalow
startled the conspirators, and they turned and gazed guiltily out at
the mountain-tops above them as Clay came hurrying out upon the porch.

"They told me you were here," he said, speaking to Miss Langham. "I'm
so sorry it tired you. I should have remembered--it is a rough trip
when you're not used to it," he added, remorsefully. "But I'm glad
Weimer was here to take care of you."

"It was just a trifle hot and noisy," said Miss Langham, smiling
sweetly. She put her hand to her forehead with an expression of
patient suffering. "It made my head ache a little, but it was most
interesting." She added, "You are certainly to be congratulated on
your work."

Clay glanced at her doubtfully with a troubled look, and turned away
his eyes to the busy scene below him. He was greatly hurt that she
should have cared so little, and indignant at himself for being so
unjust. Why should he expect a woman to find interest in that hive of
noise and sweating energy? But even as he stood arguing with himself
his eyes fell on a slight figure sitting erect and graceful on her
pony's back, her white habit soiled and stained red with the ore of the
mines, and green where it had crushed against the leaves. She was
coming slowly up the trail with a body-guard of half a dozen men
crowding closely around her, telling her the difficulties of the work,
and explaining their successes, and eager for a share of her quick
sympathy.

Clay's eyes fixed themselves on the picture, and he smiled at its
significance. Miss Langham noticed the look, and glanced below to see
what it was that had so interested him, and then back at him again. He
was still watching the approaching cavalcade intently, and smiling to
himself. Miss Langham drew in her breath and raised her head and
shoulders quickly, like a deer that hears a footstep in the forest, and
when Hope presently stepped out upon the porch, she turned quickly
toward her, and regarded her steadily, as though she were a stranger to
her, and as though she were trying to see her with the eyes of one who
looked at her for the first time.

"Hope!" she said, "do look at your dress