Hungry men gave up their suppers to behold that sight. They poured out of the building, they followed, laughing, shouting, jeering. Others came from every direction--by the time the party had reached the depot, a good part of the population of the village was on hand; and everywhere went the word, “It’s Joe Smith! Come back with a message from the union!” Big, coal-grimed miners laughed till the tears made streaks on their faces; they fell on one another’s necks for delight at this trick which had been played upon their oppressors. Even Jeff Cotton could not withhold his tribute. “By God, you’re the limit!” he muttered. He accepted the “tea-party” aspect of the affair, as the easiest way to get rid of his recurrent guest, and avert the possibilities of danger. He escorted the widow to the train and helped her up the steps, posting escorts at the doors of her car; nor did the attentions of these gallants cease until the train had moved down the canyon and passed the limits of the North Valley stockade! SECTION 26. Hal took off his widow’s weeds; and with them he shed the merriment he had worn for the benefit of the men. There came a sudden reaction; he realised that he was tired. For ten days he had lived in a whirl of excitement, scarcely stopping to sleep. Now he lay back in the car-seat, pale, exhausted; his head ached, and he realised that the sum-total of his North Valley experience was failure. There was left in him no trace of that spirit of adventure with which he had set out upon his “summer course in practical sociology.” He had studied his lessons, tried to recite them, and been “flunked.” He smiled a bitter smile, recollecting the careless jesting that had been on his lips as he came up that same canyon: “He keeps them a-roll, that merry old soul-- The wheels of industree; A-roll and a-roll, for his pipe and his bowl And his college facultee!” The train arrived in Pedro, and Hal took a hack at the station and drove to the hotel. He still carried the widow’s weeds rolled into a bundle. He might have left them in the train, but the impulse to economy which he had acquired during the last ten weeks had become a habit. He would return them to Mrs. Zamboni. The money he had promised her might better be used to feed her young ones. The two pillows he would leave in the car; the hotel might endure the loss! Entering the lobby, the first person Hal saw was his brother, and the sight of that patrician face made human by disgust relieved Hal’s headache in part. Life was harsh, life was cruel; but here was weary, waiting Edward, that boon of comic relief! Edward demanded to know where the devil he had been; and Hal answered, “I’ve been visiting the widows and orphans.” “Oh!” said Edward. “And while I sit in this hole and stew! What’s that you’ve got under your arm?”