of "mine host" at the Ten Mile House, and, as he
was a gentleman whose word was as good as his paper, we will accept them
as truth.

As Mr. Ruger rode down the mountain-side that beautiful Autumn day,
dressed in the finest of broadcloth, with linen of the most immaculate
whiteness, smoking what appeared to be a very good cigar, and humming to
himself a fragment of some old song, he looked strangely out of place.

So thought Miss Fanny Borlan as she looked out of the stage-window, and
caught her first glimpse of him just where his path intersected the
stage-road; and she would have asked the driver about him, had he not
been so near.

Mr. Ruger caught sight of her face about that time, and tossing away the
cigar, he lifted his hat to her in the most approved style.

She acknowledged the salute by a bow, and when he rode up to the side of
the stage, and made some casual remark about the fine weather, she did
not choose to consider it out of the way to receive this advance toward
a traveling acquaintance with seeming cordiality.

"Have you traveled far?" he asked.

"From the Atlantic coast, sir."

"The same journey that I intend to take some of these days, only that I
hope to substitute the word Pacific at its termination. I hope you are
near the end of your journey in this direction?"

"My destination is Ten Mile Gulch, I believe; but you have such horrid
names out here."

"I presume they do appear somewhat queer to a stranger, but they nearly
all have the merit of being appropriate. You stop at the settlement?"

"I do not know. My brother wrote to me to come to Ten Mile Gulch. Is it
the name of a town?"

"Both of a village and a mining district, from which the village takes
its name. Is your brother a miner?"

"Yes, sir."

"I presume he intended to meet you at the settlement You will no doubt
find him at the tavern; if not, I will tell him of your arrival, for my
way leads through the mines."

"Thank you, sir. My brother's name is John Borlan."

"I am somewhat acquainted with him," said Mr. Kuger, "though in this
region of strange names we call him Jack. My name is Thomas Ruger."

"Tom, in California style?" she asked, with a merry twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, Miss Borlan," he said, also smiling. "Tom Ruger is well known
where Thomas Ruger never was heard of. And now I will bid you good-day,
Miss Borlan, for I am in something of a hurry to reach the settlement.
If I do not find Jack there, I will go o