The jeweler examined the rings with the greatest interest. "Some of these rings are very valuable," he declared. "Just how valuable, I would not like to say, offhand. If you care to intrust me with the disposal of them, I will get all the money I can out of them for you. The gold coins you will have no trouble about. Your bank will accept them at nearly their real value." Charley quickly accepted the jeweler's offer, and turned over the rings to him and received a receipt in return. At the bank he had no trouble with the gold coins, the cashier readily accepting them and crediting the value to his account. His business transacted, the lad bought a paper, and, securing a room in a nearby hotel, stretched out on the bed to read and rest, for he was thoroughly tired out by the long day he had put in. He scanned the headlines with mild interest, but at last he came to a paragraph that he read and reread with growing excitement. The brief item ran as follows: "Among the bills that will come up before the legislature when it meets next month is one to give to a wealthy New York company a grant of one thousand acres of land, just east of Indiantown, for the nominal sum of $1 per acre. There is but little doubt that the bill will pass, for this land is so remote from transportation that it is considered of little or no value. The New York company, it is said, intends to develop the entire tract. They certainly seem very eager about it, for much money and influence is being used to secure the desired grant." For a long time the lad lay back and considered this short notice, but could see nothing in it to account for the many attempts to stop the road building, for certainly a good road would be of vast value to the development company. At last he gave up puzzling over the matter, and turning out his light, prepared to go to sleep; but, he had no sooner stretched out, than there came a thumping at his door. "Wait a minute," he called to the knocker, as he turned on the light and slipped on his clothes. He opened the door, and in stepped a little, freckled-faced messenger boy. "Gee, Mister," he said, "I've had a peach of a job finding you. Been to every hotel and boarding-house in town. Got a telegram for you. Sign right here." "Wait a minute," said Charley, as the youth turned to go. "There may be an answer to this." Hastily tearing open the envelope, the lad read: "Better get back as soon as you can. Bunch of New York toughs or gunmen just got off train. Met by wagons. Gone out direction of your camp. Saw Jones talking to some of them. Bad-looking characters." There was no name signed to the message, but the lad knew it was from the friendly agent at Jupiter, and, turning it over, he wrote on the back. "Can't get up until morning train. Many thanks."