ing excitedly, trying to tell them more.
It was for this that he had abandoned his plans, that he was selling
everything he had to follow a far, golden dream across the country to
California.

"A terrible journey, they say," he admitted, "but what does one care,
with such fortune at the other end?"

He had little left to sell, nor had they much money to buy; but, so
carried away were they by his ardor, they would have given him
anything they had. There was a carved ivory crucifix, a silver chain
and, at the very bottom of his bag, a square box that gave forth a
curious humming noise.

"Take care," he cautioned, as Barbara would have peeped within, "they
fly away--the bees!"

"Bees?" she echoed in astonishment.

Yes, he had brought all the way to America a queen bee and her retinue
of workers, for Italian bees, he told them gravely, were known the
world over for their beauty, industry, and gentleness.

"They sting you only if you hurt them," he declared. "Other times,
never."

He explained how they were to be put into a hive and just how they
were to be tended, for he was wise in the bee lore of Italy. Felix had
seen some of the farmers round about struggling with the wild black
bees whose tempers were so vicious that the only way to gather their
honey was to smoke the whole hiveful to death. The man opened the box
a little way to let the yellow-banded creatures crawl over his
fingers, to show their gentleness.

"I must sell them quick," he said, "for they live not much longer in a
box."

They bought the bees, Felix and Barbara, though it took every penny
they had in the house and even the store in the little carved box on
the mantel which they were all saving, by Ralph's advice, against a
rainy day. The man went away down through the orchard, turning to wave
his ragged hat in joyful good-by, for now he had sold everything and
was off and away to California.

Felix sat on the doorstep, watching him go, while Barbara moved about
inside, laying the table for supper. A thought suddenly struck her and
she went to the door.

"Felix," she said, "I wonder what Ralph will say?"

But Felix was not listening.

"Gold," he repeated softly. "Did you hear what he said, Barbara? The
sands of the rivers yellow with it, the Indians giving their children
nuggets to play with, a year's earnings to be picked up in a day!"

He was so lost in his dream that he could talk of nothing else. It was
not the sort of gold that Ra