es. Thank God he was not dead!

"Yes, Miss Ruth,--what is left of me. I wanted to see you as soon as you
reached here. You must not be alarmed about your father." The voice did
not sound like Jack's.

"Is he worse? Tell me quick!" she exclaimed, the old fear confronting
her.

"No. He is all right," he wheezed, "and is going to get well. His left
arm is broken and his head badly cut, but he is out of danger. The
doctor told me so an hour ago."

"And you?" she pleaded, clinging to his proffered hand.

"Oh! I am all right, too. The smoke got into my throat so I croak, but
that is nothing. Why, Mr. Grayson,--and Miss Felicia! I am so glad, Miss
Ruth, that you did not have to come alone! This way, everybody."

Without other words they hurried into the carriage, driving like mad for
the cottage, a mile away; all the worn look gone from Ruth's face.

"And you're not hurt, my boy?" asked Peter in a trembling voice--Jack's
well hand in his own.

"No, only a few scratches, sir; that's all. Bolton's hand's in a bad
way, though; lose two of his fingers, I'm afraid."

"And how did you escape?"

"I don't know. I got out the best way I could. First thing I knew I was
lying on the grass and some one was pouring water over my head; then
they got me home and put me to bed."

"And MacFarlane?"

"Oh, he came along with me. I had to help him some."

Peter heaved a sigh of relief, then he asked:

"How did it happen?"

"Nobody knows. One of the shanty men might have dropped a box of
fulminates. Poor fellow,--he never knew; they could find nothing of
him," Jack whispered behind his hand so Ruth would not hear.

"But when did you get out of bed?" continued Peter. He was less anxious
now.

Jack looked at Ruth and again lowered his voice; the sound of the
carriage preventing its hoarse notes from reaching her ears.

"About half an hour ago, sir; they don't know I have gone, but I didn't
want anybody to frighten Miss Ruth. I don't look so bad, do I? I fixed
myself up as well as I could. I have got on Bolton's hat; I couldn't
get mine over the bandages. My wrist is the worst--sprained badly, the
doctor says."

If Ruth heard she made no answer, nor did she speak during the ride. Now
and then she would gaze out of the window and once her fingers tightened
on Miss Felicia's arm as she passed in full view of the "fill" with the
gaping mouth of the tunnel beyond. Miss Felicia was occupied in watching
Jack. In fact, she had not t