To this Mr. Chauncey says nothing, though his eyes have grown very large. After a second's thought, Lawrence continues very earnestly: "You say I saved your life. May I ask you a favor in return?" "Anything!" cries Ferdie. "Very well! You can explain this matter to Erma Travenion, so that she will know that I followed her for love, all over California, and did not desert her for pride, because she was the daughter of a Mormon, in Utah. Will you come with me, and make that explanation?" "Yes--when?" "Now! The train leaves in an hour." "I will," cries Ferdie. "I only want fifteen minutes to pack my trunk and explain my sudden departure to the Livingstons." Which he does, and the two make their exit from San Francisco on the afternoon train, and two days afterwards find themselves in Salt Lake City, where Ferdinand would like to lay over for a night, but Lawrence says, "No rest while she thinks me ungrateful!" Despite some demur on the part of Mr. Chauncey, he puts him into a light wagon, and the two drive all night so as to make Eureka in the morning, which they do, some two hours after Mr. Kruger has left it. At the hotel, seeing neither Tranyon nor his daughter, Lawrence drags Ferdie, who is very tired, with him up the trail to the office of Zion's Co-operative Mine, and says: "You go in, my young diplomat, and tell her; I'll wait down here out of the way." Which he does; but a few minutes after Chauncey comes back and reports: "There's no one there!" "Nobody?" "Not a living soul!" Lawrence investigating this and finding it true, they return to the hotel again; but to Harry's anxious inquiries, no one can give him any information of the whereabouts this day of Bishop Tranyon or his daughter till, after two hours' search, some one suggests: "They may be up at the mine." "They're not working that now?" says Harry. "No, but I saw the bishop and his daughter go that way very early this morning." This information is enough for the impetuous Lawrence, and he again drags Mr. Chauncey up the trail with him, past the office; and one hundred yards beyond they come to the dump of the Zion's Co-operative Mine, but the place seems deserted. "I expect, with your usual luck," suggests Ferdie, "the bishop and his daughter have gone back to Salt Lake City, and we have missed them on the way. Miss Erma seems a pretty hard butterfly for you to track." But Lawrence suddenly interrupts him, whispering: "Listen! There's some one in the mine. Perhaps they're down below." "What makes you think that?" "I hear them." "I don't." "But I do! Right through this air-pipe," cries Harry, and he springs to it, and disconnecting the fan from it, puts his ear to it. A moment afterwards he exclaims: "There's somebody in trouble down there!" and the next moment, disregarding the danger of foul air, is well on his way down the incline.