"I am reserving this until I find the mine, then I will mail it at once. Now that I have definite grounds to work on, my enthusiasm is equal to carry me through any difficulties in my pathway." "Oh, father, how sad!" wept Polly, handing the letter to Anne, to read to the other two girls. "We know the rest, Polly. And that is why we never had you read this. Now that we can prove the poor old man was sane, we will try to establish his reputation for all concerned," said Mr. Brewster. "Why didn't you try to find his family when he died?" asked Polly, frowning at what she considered an oversight. "We did. Every newspaper of reputation carried an advertisement, but Ah think, now, that the old man assumed another name than his rightful one. That is why we never had a reply to our ads," replied Mr. Simms. Eleanor was elated at the romance of this experience, and turned to Polly, exclaiming: "Oh, Poll! S'posing we meet Montresor's son some day, and you fall in love with him without knowing who he is! Then it will all come out when he visits your parents to ask for you, and he will get his share of the mine, anyway!" Anne laughed heartily at such nonsense but Polly rather favored such an ending, so her mother and father quickly interrupted the romance by saying: "Come, come, sign papers and wind up this affair!" Mr. Simms said the assay was more than satisfactory, and "Choko's Find" was filed as the discovery of "Marybelle Brewster, daughter of Sam and Mary Brewster of Pebbly Pit." "Who's Marybelle Brewster?" wondered Eleanor, surprised. "It's me, but no one knows it!" laughed Polly. "Sam, when do you reckon you-all ought to go back to the mine and investigate?" said Mr. Simms. "We-all plan to ride there early in the morning. Will you-all try to come with us?" "Ah'd like it first-rate. Ah haven't had my regular fishing trip this year and this will answer," replied Simms, eagerly. "Then be shore to meet us at seven or eight o'clock at the Pine Tree just by the corduroy roadway," said Mr. Brewster. "Sam, better get away before that! We won't be the only riders along Top Notch trail the moment this 'find' gets wind!" warned Simms. "He's right, Sam! Let's start from the farm at day-break and meet Mr. Simms at five or six," advised Mrs. Brewster. "Right! Make it six, Simms, and see if the coroner and sheriff want an outing." Mr. Brewster's voice sounded interesting. Just as the lawyer opened the door for the ladies to leave, a handsome young man of about eighteen came down the road. It was evident, in every way, that he was a "tenderfoot" newly arrived. Probably just came in on the noon local from Denver. "I'm looking for Carew's Camp, sir. That cowboy over at the box-car said you might tell me how to reach it."