quite as though it were my really, truly own!"

What Nelson might have said, right there on Hillside Avenue, too--even
what he might have _done_!--will never be known; for here Marty
suddenly appeared running wildly and shrieking at the top of his lungs
for them to stop.

"Hi! hi! what's the matter wi' you folks?" he yelled, his face red, and
his breath fairly gasping in his throat. "I been yellin' after ye all
down High Street. Look what I found!"

"Looks like a newspaper, Marty," said Nelson, calmly.

"_But what is in it?_" cried Janice, turning pale.

Nelson seized the paper and held it open. He read rapidly:

"'Great battle fought southwest of Chihuahua. Federal forces
thoroughly whipped. Rebels led by the redoubtable General Juan
Dicampa, whose reported death last Spring was only a ruse to blind the
eyes of the Federals to his movements. At the head of a large force of
regular troops and Yaqui Indians, Dicampa fell upon the headquarters of
General Cesta, capturing or killing his entire command, and becoming
possessed of quantities of munition and a great store of supplies. A
telling blow that may bring about the secure establishment of a _de
facto_ government in our ensanguined sister Republic."

"Goodness me, Janice! what do you think of that? There is a lot more
of it, too."

"Then--if Juan Dicampa is not dead----" began the girl.

"Sure, Uncle Brocky ain't dead!" finished Marty.

"At least, dear girl," said Nelson, sympathetically, "there is every
reason to believe that what Marty says is true."

"Oh, I can hope! I can hope again!" she murmured. "And, perhaps--who
knows, Nelson?--perhaps my own great trouble is going to melt away and
be no more, just like last Winter's snow! Perhaps daddy is safe, and
will come home."

"I wish my difficulties promised as quick a solution, Janice," said
Nelson, shaking his head. "But I am glad for you, my dear."

Marty ran ahead with the paper to spread the good news of Uncle
Brocky's probable safety. Janice and Nelson were not destined to be
left to their own devices for long, however. As they slowly mounted
the pleasant and shady street there was the rattle of wheels behind
them, and a masterful voice said:

"Whoa! That you, Schoolmaster? How-do, Janice."

"Dr. Poole!" they cried, as one.

"Bad news for you, Janice," said the red-faced doctor, in his brusk
way. "Know you're interested in that Narnay youngster. I've just come
from there.