ed on him
keenly. He was feeling a little sore at what he considered having been
outwitted by this youngster.

"I had run certain of the lines before," said Keith: "these, as I
started to tell you yesterday. And now," he said, with a sudden change
of manner, "I will make you the same proposal I made yesterday. You can
pay me what you think the work is worth. I will not hold you to your
bargain of yesterday."

The other sat back in his chair, and looked at him with a different
expression on his face.

"You must have worked all night?' he said thoughtfully.

"I did," said Keith, "and so did my assistant, but that is nothing. I
have often done that for less money. Many people sit up all night in
Gumbolt," he added, with a smile.

"That old stage-driver said you were a worker." Mr. Halbrook's eyes were
still on him. "Where are you from?"

"Born and bred in the South," said Keith.

"I owe you something of an apology for what I said yesterday. I shall
have some more work for you, perhaps."

* * * * *

The agent, when he went back to the North, was as good as his word. He
told his people that there was one man in Gumbolt who would do their
work promptly.

"And he's straight," he said. "He says he is from the South; but he is a
new issue."

He further reported that old Rawson, the countryman who owned the land
in the Gap, either owned or controlled the cream of the coal-beds there.
"He either knows or has been well advised by somebody who knows the
value of all the lands about there. And he has about blocked the game. I
think it's that young Keith, and I advise you to get hold of Keith."

"Who is Keith? What Keith? What is his name?" asked Mr. Wickersham.

"Gordon Keith."

Mr. Wickersham's face brightened. "Oh, that is all right; we can get
him. We might give him a place?"

Mr. Halbrook nodded.

Mr. Wickersham sat down and wrote a letter to Keith, saying that he
wished to see him in New York on a matter of business which might
possibly turn out to his advantage. He also wrote a letter to General
Keith, suggesting that he might possibly be able to give his son
employment, and intimating that it was on account of his high regard for
the General.

That day Keith met Squire Rawson on the street. He was dusty and
travel-stained.

"I was jest comin' to see you," he said.

They returned to the little room which Keith called his office, where
the old fellow opened his saddle-bag