oger smiled at her, and sat down.

"Ernest, what was the size of the glass you and Dr. Austin were finally
able to get?"

"Eight by twelve. Felicia, tell Mr. Moore where you're going."

"Out to live with Charley and Dick," said the child obediently.

"Have they been there long?" asked Roger, lighting his pipe.

"Ever since Mother died. They left me with Aunt May. But now I'm going
out to be with Charley. Dear, dearest Charley, that's what Aunt May
says."

"Charley must be your favorite brother," commented Roger, a trifle
absentmindedly as he tried to define the disconcerting attraction
Felicia had for him.

"Ho! How silly you are!" laughed the little girl. "Charley's my big only
sister. Her whole name is Charlotte Emerson Preble and she looks just
like me. Aunt May says so."

"Preble!" exclaimed both the men.

"Charley Preble!" Roger went on. "Ern, don't you remember the pretty
little girl who used to play with us?"

"Of course I do. That's why Felicia has been puzzling us so. We were
just kids, but seems to me Charley looked exactly as she does."

"Did sister Charley ever talk to you about Eagle's Wing?" asked Roger.

"I don't recollect Charley. She went out to take care of Dick when I was
so little. Charley's awful good. She'll take such care of me as never
was on sea or land. Aunt May says so. And I'll love her more than I do
God."

"Was Dick sick? I remember him as a big, husky boy, don't you, Ern?"

Ernest shook his head. "I don't remember him. You were the one who used
to go out to Prebles' to play."

"Dicky was sick," Felicia piped on. "Dicky's like Dad. He'll never
amount to much, Aunt May says."

"Look at the queer kind of cactus we're beginning to pass, Felicia,"
interrupted Roger, hastily.

Felicia leaned against his knee. No little girl ever had done so before
and Roger looked at her curiously.

"The desert's awful homely, isn't it?" she said.

"It certainly is," agreed Ernest, lighting a fresh cigar.

For a moment the three stared at the unending wastes of brown and
gray-green, belled over by a cloudless sapphire sky.

"Homely and hot, but I don't care as long as I'm where Charley is. I
don't remember her, but I know how I'm going to feel about her." Here
she took a long look into Roger's gray eyes. "I guess I'd like to sit in
your lap," she suggested.

Roger lifted her to his knees and she settled back comfortably in the
hollow of his arm. A flooding sense of tenderness surprise