t that he was at last on his
way home.

As he came within sight of the familiar ranges his thoughts reverted
again and again to Kate Underwood. His whole soul seemed to cry out for
her with a sudden, insatiable longing. His mail had of necessity been
irregular and infrequent; their letters had somehow miscarried, and he
had not heard directly from her for months. Her last letter was from
Germany; she was then still engrossed in her music, but her father's
health was greatly improved and he was beginning to talk of home. His
father's latest letter had stated that the Underwoods would probably
return early in July. And this was June! Darrell felt a twinge of
disappointment. He was now able to remember many incidents in their
acquaintance. He recalled their first meeting at The Pines on that June
day five years ago. How beautiful the old place must look now! But
without Kate's presence the charm would be lost for him. He regretted he
had started homeward quite so soon; the time would not have seemed so
long among the mining camps of the great Northwest as here, where
everything reminded him of her.

The stopping of the train at a health resort far up among the mountains,
a few miles from Ophir, roused Darrell from his revery. With a sigh he
recalled his wandering thoughts and left the car for a walk up and down
the platform. The town, perched saucily on the slopes of a heavily
timbered mountain, looked very attractive in the gathering twilight.
Though early in the season, the hotel and sanitarium seemed well filled,
while numerous pleasure-seekers were promenading the walks leading to
and from the springs which gave the place its popularity.

Darrell felt a sudden, unaccountable desire to remain. Without waiting
to analyze the impulse, as inexplicable as it was irresistible, which
actuated him, he hastened into the sleeper and secured his grip and top
coat. As the train pulled out he stepped into the station and sent a
message to his father at Ophir, stating that he had decided to remain
over a day or two at the Springs and asking him to look after his
baggage on its arrival. He then took a carriage for the hotel. It was
not without some compunctions of conscience that Darrell wired his
father of his decision, and even as he rode swiftly along the winding
streets he wondered what strange fancy possessed him that he should stop
among strangers instead of continuing his journey home. To his father it
would certainly seem