"You're wrong there, my friend." The young people saw before them a withered-up little old man with the whitest of hair reaching to his shoulders. Noting their unconcealed astonishment, he continued, by way of introduction, "I am Preacher Bellows on Sunday and Teacher Bellows on weekdays. Now, as I was saying, having overheard your remark, this little schoolroom and the teacher who presides over it are proud to tell you that your statement is not correct. It may not look as though genius could be awakened here," he smiled most kindly. "I'll agree that it does not, but that is just what has happened. Meg Heger, one of my mountain girls, has written some beautiful things. Her last composition, 'Sunrise From the Rim-Rock,' is truly poetical." Jane turned away impatiently. Was she never to be through with hearing about Meg Heger? "Brother," the manner in which she interrupted the conversation was almost rude, "isn't that the stage returning? I am so tired, I do want to get up to our cabin." She started to cross the street. Dan quickly joined her. He did not rebuke her for not having said goodbye to the teacher. "He's a nice man, isn't he, Dan?" Gerald skipped along by his brother's side as he spoke. "He loves mountain people, doesn't he?" Dan smiled down at the eager questioner. "Why, of course, he must, if he practices what I suppose he preaches; the brotherhood of man." "Well, I certainly don't want to claim people like the ones we have met in Redfords as any kin of mine," Jane snapped as they all crossed to the stage that awaited them. Again the four white horses drooped their heads and the driver slouched on his high seat, as though at every opportunity they took short naps. But the horses came to life when the driver snapped his long whip and with much jolting they forded the stream. "Oh, my; I'm 'cited as anything!" Julie squealed. "Wish something, Gerald, 'cause this is the first time we've ever been up our very own mountain road." "There's just one thing to wish for," the small boy said with the seriousness which now and then made him seem older than his years, "and that's that Dan will get well. What do you wish, Jane?" "Why, the same thing, of course," the girl replied languidly. Gerald continued his questioning. "What do you wish, Dan?" The boy thought for a moment and then he exclaimed, "I have a wonderful thing to wish. Wouldn't it be great if we could find the lost gold vein on our very own ten acres? Then Dad could pay the rest that he owes and be free from all worry?" "Me, too," Julie cried jubilantly. "Now, we've all wished and here we go up the mountain." The road was narrow. In some places it was barely wide enough for the stage to pass, and, as Jane looked back and down, she shuddered many times.