pped
abruptly. Jack looked up, and was surprised to see his cousin Steve,
looking very smart and happy.

'Hello, young un!' he cried, jumping off his horse. 'I thought it was
you, so I turned off the prairie road to see. What's the trouble?
You'll drown everyone in Longview if you cry so hard.'

Jack sat up and wiped his streaming eyes with his sleeve. 'Oh, Steve!'
he exclaimed, 'I'm so unhappy. I'm glad you've come, for they're so
unkind to me, and I'm beginning to doubt as Father and Mother have
forgot me. They've never sent for me.'

'Don't fret, Jack,' said Steve; 'they haven't forgot you, never fear.
D'you know,' he went on slowly, 'I've found out as they sent for you
long ago, an' he'll not let you go.' Steve nodded towards his home.

'_He!_' repeated Jack in astonishment. 'Uncle Mat! Why, he hates me,
Steve, an' I guess he'd be only too glad to get rid o' me.'

'Not he!' returned Steve. 'You're better than a servant to that woman,
for she'd never get anyone to work as hard as you, an' she ain't
a-goin' to let you leave. I heard a tale from Long Jim Taylor, as
worked in the mine with Father, an' it's that as brought me home now.
Father was drunk one day, an' let out about a mean trick as he'd played
on your folks, an' you, too, for the matter o' that; an' though he
denied it afterwards, I'm sure it's true, an' I'll talk my mind to him
afore I'm done.'

Steve looked so furious, Jack felt almost frightened as he asked
timidly, 'What was it, Steve? Tell me what he has done.'

'Well, then, kid, listen!' said the cowboy. 'He never wrote to say
Mother was dead, but gave your folks to understand as it was _you_ as
was buried; said as how you'd had a bad fall an' died terrible sudden,
an' there was no time to get 'em over.'

Jack's eyes had grown rounder and larger with horrified surprise as he
listened to Steve's story.

'How wicked of him!' he cried. 'But, Steve, I wonder he wasn't afraid
o' their hearin' about it.'

'Aye, and so do I,' answered his cousin. 'I believe, however, he has
been meanin' to move to some other part o' the country an' take you.
Your folks are settled a long way off, an', thinkin' as you're dead,
they'll probably never come back here again, so he'd be pretty safe.'

'What shall I do, Steve?' asked Jack piteously. 'I'll ask Uncle Mat
about it this very night.'

'Don't make him angry,' returned the cowboy kindly; 'but tell him you
have heard what he's done, an' you ar