ing pretty," said Stubbs, with a glance of
admiration.

"There's a compliment for you, lass!" said the father.

Janet, however, did not appear to appreciate it, and continued to look
grave.

"Wonder how the kid's getting along," said Bob Stubbs, with his mouth
full of bacon.

"I reckon he's hungry," said Dick Hayden, in a voice of satisfaction.

"Have you left him without anything to eat, father?" asked Janet.

"Yes."

"The poor fellow will be starved."

"And serves him right, too. There ain't no call to pity him."

"Why won't you take him some breakfast if you're going round there? I
will put some up in a tin pail."

"What do you say to that, Bob, hey?" said Hayden.

"It's natural for the gal to pity him. He's a nice lookin' chap enough."

"He's nicer looking than he will be when we get through with him, eh,
Bob?"

"That's so, Dick."

As Janet listened to this conversation, her heart revolted against the
brutality conveyed by the words. She felt dissatisfied to think that her
own father was such a man. She could not well feel an affection for
him, remembering how ill he had treated her gentle mother, who, as she
knew, would be living to-day had she been wedded to a better husband.

The two men did not linger long at the table. They were accustomed to
swallow their food rapidly, in order to get to the scene of their daily
labor on time. So in twenty minutes they rose from the table, and
putting on their hats left the cabin.

As they departed Janet breathed a sigh of relief, and congratulated
herself that she had released the poor boy, and so saved him from the
brutal treatment he was likely to receive at the hands of the two
miners.

"He will have had plenty of time to get away before father and Mr.
Stubbs reach the cabin," she said to herself.

Janet washed the dishes, and then, having an errand at the store, put on
her hat and left the cabin. She did not trouble herself to lock the
door, for there was nothing in the place likely to excite the cupidity
of any dishonest person.

Janet had accomplished a part of the distance when she saw approaching
her a figure that at once attracted her earnest attention.

The reason will be readily understood when I say that it was Achilles
Henderson, the circus giant.

Mr. Henderson had been exploring the neighborhood in the hope of finding
some trace of Kit, but thus far had been unsuccessful. He was very much
perplexed, having absolutely no clew, and was