young St. George
who wears your colors must have slain his dragon."

"At least," Janice returned, softly, "he must have shown his
willingness to kill the horrid thing."

The short winter day was already drawing to a close when the telegraph
sounder began to call the station. Marty ran out at once and brought
back the operator. He was quickly in communication with one of the
great New York papers and found that it was over the paper's private
wire that first authentic news from the Granadas district had arrived
in the East.

The posse from Cida had found everything peaceful about the mines. The
guerrilla leader, Raphele, had decamped. There had been an execution
on the day John Makepiece had fled from the place; but the victims were
some unfortunate Indians. The bandit had not dared kill the remaining
American prisoner.

Mr. Broxton Day had managed to get into a shaft of the mine and there
had lain hidden until Raphele, and his gang, had departed. Now he had
gathered some of his old employees, and armed them with rifles hidden
all these months in the mine, and the property was once more under Mr.
Day's control and properly guarded.

Through the posse, Mr. Day made a statement to the newspapers, and to
his friends and fellow-stockholders of the mine, in the States. To
Janice, too, he sent a brief message of love and good cheer, stating
that letters to her were already in the mail.

The relief Janice felt is not to be easily shown. To be positive,
after these hours of uncertainty--and after the long weeks of worriment
that had gone before--that dear Daddy was really alive and well, seemed
too good to be true.

"Oh, do you suppose it _can_ be so?" she cried, again and again,
clinging to Nelson Haley's arm.

"Of course it is! Pluck up your courage, Janice," he assured her,
while Marty sniveled:

"Aw, say, Janice! Doncher give way, now. Uncle Brocky is all right
an' it would be dead foolish ter cry over it, when you kep' up your
pluck so, before."

"Well! to please you both!" choked Janice, trying to swallow the sobs.
"But--but----Come on! let's go home. Just think how worried Aunt 'Mira
will be."

So they shook hands with the telegraph operator and Janice thanked him
heartily. There were several other friendly folk of the neighborhood
in the waiting-room when the three friends came out of the office, and
the happy girl thanked them, too, for their sympathy.

It was quite dark when they got out i