of the University, it will
be because of my talents as a salesman."

Everybody laughed. "Ernest, do tell us how you did it," urged Elsa.

"Wait a minute!" cried Roger. "What shall I do with the check?" holding
it as if it were alive and dangerous to the touch.

"Put it in your pocket, you chump! Then have a talk with Hackett. He has
a connection with a bank at Los Angeles and he does a lot of banking for
the miners south of Archer's Springs. He'll take care of it for you."

"I can't carry it in the pocket of my shirt, I perspire so!" protested
Roger. "Why not shift it to Hackett right now?"

"So be it!" returned Ernest, wearily. "Must I hold your hand while you
do it! Say, did you move my clothes up here?"

"Our living tent is just the other side of the old tool house," replied
Roger. "Come along, old man, and get rid of your store clothes. You look
like a tenderfoot."

"Farewell to decency again!" groaned Ernest.

"When you come back, supper will be ready," called Elsa.

Hackett was sitting in the shade of the engine house and Roger reached
an understanding with him very quickly. He undertook to act not only as
Roger's banker but as his purchasing agent as well, and Roger undertook
to furnish him with a list of tools and machinery before his return to
Archer's Springs at dawn.

Gustav was waiting impatiently during the interview, and when Roger said
with a sigh:

"Well, I guess that covers everything, Mr. Hackett," Gustav put in
quickly:

"Did Ernest tell you there is var in Europe. The Vaterland, England,
France, Belgium. Mein Gott, you should see the papers they brought."

"Good heavens! War! You don't mean it! Not a real one," cried Roger.

"Yes, more or less real! Of course, Germany will be in Paris any time
now, and that will end it," said Ernest.

"But what is it all about? War! I can't believe it." Roger looked over
the breathless, shimmering desert to the far calm blue of the River
Range.

"Nobody knows exactly who started it or why," said Hackett. "Looks to me
though as if Germany was trying to hog Belgium."

"Belgium deserves to be hogged," exclaimed Ernest, who had changed his
clothes, "after her Congo history."

"But if it is var, I must get back to the Vaterland," cried Gustav.

"Oh, as to that," returned Ernest, "I saw Werner in New York and he said
for you to stay here till you heard from him. He plans to be down this
way, this fall."

Gustav grinned. "That vas good. I don't van