ortfolio and began to scribble off note
after note, with such rapidity that the amazed pauper at his elbow
fairly lost his appetite, and, after a vain attempt to recover it,
suggested that it might be as well for him to retire to one of the
palatial fourpence-a-night residences in Dean and Flower Street.

"Not to-night. You've done me a good turn that I shall never forget"
said Charlie, rising and ringing the bell with needless vigour.

"Be kind enough, Mrs Butt, to show Mr Zook to his bedroom."

"My heye!" murmured the pauper, marching off with two full inches added
to his stature. "Not in there, I suppose, missis," he said facetiously,
as he passed the coal-hole.

"Oh, lawks! no--this way," replied the good woman, who was becoming
almost imbecile under the eccentricities of her lodger. "This is your
bedroom, and I only 'ope it won't turn into a band-box before morning,
for of all the transformations an' pantimimes as 'as took place in this
'ouse since Mr Brooke entered it, I--"

She hesitated, and, not seeing her way quite clearly to the fitting end
of the sentence, asked if Mr Zook would 'ave 'ot water in the morning.

"No, thank you, Missis," replied the little man with dignity, while he
felt the stubble on his chin; "'avin left my razors at 'ome, I prefers
the water cold."

Leaving Zook to his meditations, Mrs Butt retired to bed, remarking, as
she extinguished the candle, that Mr Brooke was still "a-writin' like a
'ouse a fire!"

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

SWEETWATER BLUFF.

We must now leap over a considerable space, not only of distance, but of
time, in order to appreciate fully the result of Charlie Brooke's
furious letter-writing and amazing powers of persuasion.

Let the reader try to imagine a wide plateau, dotted with trees and
bushes, on one of the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, where that
mighty range begins to slide into union with the great prairies. It
commands a view of mingled woodland and rolling plain, diversified by
river and lake, extending to a horizon so faint and far away as to
suggest the idea of illimitable space.

Early one morning in spring, five horsemen, emerging from a belt of
woodland, galloped to the slope that led to the summit of this plateau.
Drawing rein, they began slowly to ascend. Two of the cavaliers were
young, tall, and strong;--two were portly and old, though still hearty
and vigorous; one, who led them, on a coal-black steed, was a
magnificent s