cle Bill Hugson married your Uncle Henry's wife's sister; so
we must be second cousins," said the boy, in an amused tone. "I work
for Uncle Bill on his ranch, and he pays me six dollars a month and my
board."

"Isn't that a great deal?" she asked, doubtfully.

"Why, it's a great deal for Uncle Hugson, but not for me. I'm a
splendid worker. I work as well as I sleep," he added, with a laugh.

"What is your name?" said Dorothy, thinking she liked the boy's manner
and the cheery tone of his voice.

"Not a very pretty one," he answered, as if a little ashamed. "My
whole name is Zebediah; but folks just call me 'Zeb.' You've been to
Australia, haven't you?"

"Yes; with Uncle Henry," she answered. "We got to San Francisco a week
ago, and Uncle Henry went right on to Hugson's Ranch for a visit while
I stayed a few days in the city with some friends we had met."

"How long will you be with us?" he asked.

"Only a day. Tomorrow Uncle Henry and I must start back for Kansas.
We've been away for a long time, you know, and so we're anxious to get
home again."

The boy flicked the big, boney horse with his whip and looked
thoughtful. Then he started to say something to his little companion,
but before he could speak the buggy began to sway dangerously from side
to side and the earth seemed to rise up before them. Next minute there
was a roar and a sharp crash, and at her side Dorothy saw the ground
open in a wide crack and then come together again.

"Goodness!" she cried, grasping the iron rail of the seat. "What was
that?"

"That was an awful big quake," replied Zeb, with a white face. "It
almost got us that time, Dorothy."

The horse had stopped short, and stood firm as a rock. Zeb shook the
reins and urged him to go, but Jim was stubborn. Then the boy cracked
his whip and touched the animal's flanks with it, and after a low moan
of protest Jim stepped slowly along the road.

Neither the boy nor the girl spoke again for some minutes. There was a
breath of danger in the very air, and every few moments the earth would
shake violently. Jim's ears were standing erect upon his head and
every muscle of his big body was tense as he trotted toward home. He
was not going very fast, but on his flanks specks of foam began to
appear and at times he would tremble like a leaf.

The sky had grown darker again and the wind made queer sobbing sounds
as it swept over the valley.

Suddenly there was a rending, tearin