the poor girl
died when Lem was born. The father was later killed by an
accident.

"Lem's only relative, it was found, was an uncle who lived in
the South. This man volunteered to take the little one, and
was made legal guardian and controller of the remnant of the
fortune. The child was a weak, delicate boy, and this uncle,
a cruel, planning man, figured that if he worked Lem very
hard all the time, he would eventually break down, and then
he would come in for the child's money. Thus, the poor boy
was driven to desperation, and finally ran away. You know
better than I do, the incidents connected with his rescue.

"I have prepared all necessary legal papers as to the facts,
to prove that Mr. Haley was and is an unfit guardian for the
child, and will present these to the court."

This pleasing news was interestedly discussed, and a happy future
argued for the boy.

The following morning, Mr. Dauntrey was early at the breakfast table,
with a proposition that the party should visit Tamalpais. The day was
beautifully clear, and on no other is a trip to the mountain's summit
interesting. Mr. Ludlow could not go, but the ladies accepted with
alacrity, and a prompt start was made. Glorious sights indeed are
revealed, as the railroad winds its way to the apex of this peak, the
highest so near an American city.

Lunch was served at the summit house, but Dorothy was so interested in
the views obtainable from the various vantage points that she wandered
away from the others while they were still seated at the table.

When her absence was noted, Mr. Dauntrey sought her out, at first
unsuccessfully, then seeking for her in a secluded view point seldom
visited, he heard her voice, and found that, in her anxiety to attain
a high rock, she had lost her footing, and catching for a support had
sprained her ankle. She had as well badly torn her dress.

Her rescuer was all gallantry and courtesy, and assisted her to a seat
near at hand. He would have carried her to the train platform, but
this proffer Dorothy declined.

"I shall be able to walk, shortly," she explained. "It is not a severe
sprain and the pain is bearable, and only acute when I put my weight
on my foot."

"A few moments' rest will help to set you right," said Mr. Dauntrey,
and then added, looking into her eyes, "Do you know, I wish you had
been in some real serious danger, and that I had been privileged to