rassing for her to remain in Ophir,
invited her to their home for two or three months, and she, realizing
that she had incurred her father's displeasure, gladly accepted.

The next morning found Darrell on his way to the camp, looking longingly
forward to his busy life amid the mountains, and firmly believing that
it would be many a day before he again saw The Pines.

_Chapter XXIII_

THE MASK LIFTED

Three weeks of clear, cold weather followed, in which the snow became
packed and frozen until the horses' hoofs on the mountain roads
resounded as though on asphalt, and the steel shoes of the heavily laden
sleds rang out a cheerful rhyme on the frosty air.

These were weeks of strenuous application to work on Darrell's part. His
evenings were now spent, far into the night, in writing. He still kept
the journal begun during his first winter in camp, believing it would
one day prove of inestimable value as a connecting link between past and
future. The geological and mineralogical data which he had collected
through more than twelve months' research and experiment was now nearly
complete, and he had undertaken the work of arranging it, along with
copious notes, in form for publication. It was an arduous but
fascinating task and one to which he often wished he might devote his
entire time.

He was sitting before the fire at night, deeply engrossed in this work,
when he was aroused by the sound of hoof-beats on the mountain road
leading from the canyon to the camp. He listened; they came rapidly
nearer; it was a horseman riding fast and furiously, and by the heavy
pounding of the foot-falls Darrell knew the animal he rode was nearly
exhausted. On they came past the miners' quarters towards the office
building; it was then some messenger from The Pines, and at that
hour--Darrell glanced at the clock, it was nearly midnight--it could be
no message of trifling import.

Darrell sprang to his feet and, rushing through the outer room, followed
by Duke barking excitedly, opened the door just as the rider drew rein
before it. What was his astonishment to see Bennett, one of the house
servants, on a panting, foam-covered horse.

"Ah, Mr. Darrell," the man cried, as the door opened, "it's a good thing
that you keep late hours; right glad I was to see the light in your
window, I can tell you, sir!"

"But, Bennett, what brings you here at this time of night?" Darrell
asked, hastily.

"Mrs. Dean sent me, sir. Mr. Unde