dn't write much to one another, an' latterly I didn't
hear from him at all."

"It was a pity."

"I dunno as it made much difference," Ellen said. "Likely he didn't
remember much about his home an' his relations."

"Yes, indeed he did," cried Lucy eagerly. "He used to speak often of my
grandparents and the old house, and he hoped I'd come East sometime and
see the place where he had lived as a boy. As he grew older and was sick,
I think his early home came to mean more to him than any other spot on
earth."

"Queer how it often takes folks to their dyin' day to get any sense,"
declared Ellen caustically. "Where'd your father pick up your mother,
anyway?"

Lucy did not answer.

"I mean where did he get acquainted with her?" amended Ellen hastily.

"You never heard the story?"

"No."

"Oh, it was the sweetest thing," began Lucy enthusiastically. "You see,
Grandfather Duquesne owned a coal mine up in the mountains, and Dad worked
for him. One day one of the cages used in going down into the mine got out
of order, and Grandfather gave orders that it was to be fixed right away
lest some accident occur and the men be injured. But through a
misunderstanding the work was not done, and the next day the cage dropped
and killed nine of the miners. Of course the men blamed poor Grandfather
for the tragedy, and they marched to his house, intending to drag him out
and lynch him. Dad knew the truth, however, and he rushed to the place and
held the mob back with his pistol until he could tell them the real facts.
At first they were so angry they refused to listen, but by and by they
did, and instead of killing Grandfather they went and found the engineers
who were to blame."

Ellen waited.

"What did they do to them?" she demanded at last.

"Oh, they hung them instead of Grandfather," answered Lucy simply.

"How many of them?"

"I don't know. Three or four, I guess."

It was evident that Lucy was quite indifferent to the fate of the unlucky
engineers.

"Mercy on us!" Ellen gasped.

"But their carelessness caused the death of the other men. It was only
fair."

"So that's the way you settle things in the West?"

"Yes. At least, they did then."

The mountain-bred girl obviously saw nothing amiss in this swift-footed
justice.

"And where did your mother come in?" asked her aunt.

"Why, you see, Grandfather Duquesne afterward made Dad the boss of the
mine, and when Mother, a girl of sixteen, came home from the C