had a little
accident. We've come from Bullionville. How long do you think it will
take you to put us in shape?"

The smith was looking at the children.

Such a trio of blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked, unalarmed little girls had
never before been seen in Borealis; and they all looked back at him and
the others with the most engaging frankness.

"Well, about how far you goin'?" said the smith, by way of answer.

"To Fremont," replied the stranger. "I'm a preacher, but they thought
they couldn't support a church at Bullionville," he added, with a look,
half mirth, half worry, in his eyes. "However, a man from Fremont
loaned us the horses and carriage, so we thought we'd move before the
snow fell any deeper. I'd like to go on without great delay, if the
mending can be hastened."

"Your off horse needs shoein'," said Webber, quickly scanning every
detail of the animals and vehicle with his practised eye. "It's a long
pull to Fremont. I reckon you can't git started before the day after
tomorrow."

To a preacher who had found himself superfluous, the thought of the
bill of expenses that would heap up so swiftly here in Borealis was
distressing. He was poor; he was worried. Like many of the miners, he
had worked at a claim that proved to be worthless in the end.

"I--hoped it wouldn't take so long," he answered, slowly, "but then I
suppose we shall be obliged to make the best of the situation. There
are stables where I can put up the horses, of course?"

"You kin use two stalls of mine," said the teamster, who liked the
looks of the three little girls as well as those of the somewhat shy
little mother and the preacher himself. "Boys, unhitch his stock."

Field, Bone, and the carpenter, recently made tender over all of
youngster-kind, proceeded at once to unfasten the harness.

"But--where are we likely to find accommodations?" faltered the
preacher, doubtfully. "Is there any hotel or boarding-house in camp?"

"Well, not exactly--is there, Webber?" replied the teamster. "The
boardin'-house is over to the mill--the quartz-mill, ten miles down the
canon."

"But I reckon they could stop at Doc's," replied the smith, who had
instantly determined that three bright-eyed little girls in red worsted
caps should not be permitted to leave Borealis without a visit first to
Jim and tiny Skeezucks. "Miss Doc could sure make room, even if Doc
had to bunk up at Jim's. One of you fellers jest run up and ask her,
quick! A