ioner made
him appear the elder. Nevertheless, Don Caesar noticed that his eyes,
when withdrawn from him, sought the hillside with the same visionary
abstraction.

"It is a fine view, Senor Esslinn," said Don Caesar.

"It is a beautiful view, sir," said Slinn, turning his happy eyes upon
him for a moment, only to rest them again on the green slope opposite.

"Beyond that hill which you are looking at--not far, Senor Esslinn--I
live. You shall come and see me there--you and your family."

"You--you--live there?" stammered the invalid, with a troubled
expression--the first and only change to the complete happiness that
had hitherto suffused his face. "You--and your name is--is Ma--"

"Alvarado," said Don Caesar, gently. "Caesar Alvarado."

"You said Masters," said the old man, with sudden querulousness.

"No, good friend. I said Alvarado," returned Don Caesar, gravely.

"If you didn't say Masters, how could I say it? I don't know any
Masters."

Don Caesar was silent. In another moment the happy tranquillity
returned to Slinn's face; and Don Caesar continued:--

"It is not a long walk over the hill, though it is far by the road.
When you are better you shall try it. Yonder little trail leads to the
top of the hill, and then--"

He stopped, for the invalid's face had again assumed its troubled
expression. Partly to change his thoughts, and partly for some
inexplicable idea that had suddenly seized him, Don Caesar continued:--

"There is a strange old stump near the trail, and in it a hole. In the
hole I found this letter." He stopped again--this time in alarm.
Slinn had staggered to his feet with ashen and distorted features, and
was glancing at the letter which Don Caesar had drawn from his pocket.
The muscles of his throat swelled as if he was swallowing; his lips
moved, but no sound issued from them. At last, with a convulsive
effort, he regained a disjointed speech, in a voice scarcely audible.

"My letter! my letter! It's mine! Give it me! It's my fortune--all
mine! In the tunnel--hill! Masters stole it--stole my fortune! Stole
it all! See, see!"

He seized the letter from Don Caesar with trembling hands, and tore it
open forcibly: a few dull yellow grains fell from it heavily, like
shot, to the ground.

"See, it's true! My letter! My gold! My strike! My--my--my God!"

A tremor passed over his face. The hand that held the letter suddenly
dropped sheer and heavy as the gold had