Mrs. Ralston shook her head and said: “She persists in saying she saw it. Seems on the verge of insanity. Something should be done.” Miss Hansford had feared it, too, and after Mrs. Ralston was gone she went to Elithe and asked if there was anything that would comfort her or help her in any way. “Yes,—father. It would not be so hard if he were here to tell me what to do.” “He shall come,” Miss Hansford replied, and that afternoon she wrote a long letter to Roger, telling him the whole story and urging him to come if possible. She would pay all the expenses and pay for some one to take his place in church during his absence. “That’ll fetch him,” she said to Elithe, who, buoyed up with this hope, slept that night the first quiet sleep in a week. Tom Drake came the next day, asking if she would go to the jail. “No, Tom. I couldn’t bear to see him there,” she said, “and it would do no good. Tell him I am so sorry,—that I’d take his place if I could. When father comes perhaps I’ll go. Maybe they’ll let him out before that time.” Tom shook his head and went away discouraged. After that Elithe refused absolutely to see any one. She was growing stronger with the hope of her father’s coming. It was time now to expect him, or a letter. It was the latter which came. Mr. Hansford was ill in bed with a malarial fever which precluded the possibility of his leaving home for days and possibly weeks. When he was able to come he would do so, if he were still needed. The news which Miss Hansford had written had been received with consternation and sorrow both in Samona and Deep Gulch. That Mr. Pennington had another name was not a great surprise to any one, for such complications were not uncommon, but all grieved for his violent death. At the Deep Gulch the mourning was sincere and heartfelt. With regard to Elithe the miners were pretty well posted by Rob, who told them whatever he thought would interest them. They knew about the big wedding she was to attend,—what she was to wear, and of the trip to Boston. Elithe had secured a copy of the paper with the Personal concerning herself and her aunt, and forwarded it to Rob, who, after showing it to everybody in Samona, took it to Deep Gulch. To go to Boston was not of so much importance as being mentioned with the President and Joe Jefferson and Gen. Tracy, and the miners read and re-read the paragraph many times, and the paper was passed from one to another until it was worn so thin that Mrs. Stokes pasted a bit of plain paper under it to keep it together. Elithe was having a gay old time, they said, and they were very glad and proud because of it.