ther, she found excuses for him and told
herself that he had been amply punished for his indiscretion. She,
too, opined that he had learned a lesson. Consequently she coddled him
to such an extent that Longstreet remarked the fact and began to wonder
just what Helen wanted now; no doubt she was going to ask something of
him and was preparing the way after the approved and time-honoured
custom.

But the day wore on with never a favour asked. In the drowsy afternoon
Helen coaxed her father into her room and dropped the shades and
ordered him to sleep, telling him that he looked like a ghost of his
former rugged beauty. Then she sank down listlessly upon the doorstep,
brooding, her eyes wandering through the green fields of Desert Valley.
Her musings were disturbed by the clatter of shod hoofs across the
rugged plateau; she looked up quickly, her eyes brightening. Then she
saw that it was John Carr returning, and into her look there came an
expression much resembling that which had been so much to-day in her
father's--one of uncertainty.

Carr staked out his horse before he came to her. Then he sat down on a
box near the doorstep and studied her gravely before he spoke. Helen
smiled.

'You are thinking unpleasant things about some one,' she stated
quickly. 'Has the world turned into a terribly serious place all of a
sudden?'

There was little levity in Carr's make-up at any time; just now his
speech was as sober as his look.

'I am thinking about you and your father, to begin with,' he replied
gravely. 'I have been over yonder all day.' He swept out an impatient
arm toward Dry Gulch. 'They call it Sanchia's Town. And it is a town
already. I saw Nate Kemble there; he's the big man of the Quigley
Mines, and you see how long it has taken him to get on the spot. Your
father evidently made no mistake in his location. There's gold there,
all right!'

Helen waited expectantly for him to go on. For certainly the fact that
her father had been able to find gold was no cause for Carr's frowning
eyes.

'My blood has been boiling all day,' Carr blurted out angrily.
'Longstreet should be a rich man to-day and he has gained nothing. I
saw Nate Kemble pay one man ten thousand dollars for his claim; Kemble
wouldn't pay that if the thing were not worth a great deal more.
Kemble doesn't make many mistakes. Your father stumbled on to the
place and then he couldn't hold it. When do you think he will make
another d