From the interior, however, one overlooked these deficiencies, because of the gorgeous panorama of bay, mountain, and sky that was framed by every window. Dame Trot, as Ben called her, was the wife of Beth’s stepfather; for the girl’s own mother had died shortly after her second marriage. The home was not congenial to the young girl; but as Mr. Hodges had used all the money which her mother had left, she was compelled to remain under his roof. Sydney Chalmers was the son of the present Mrs. Hodges by a former marriage. It was in Mr. Hodges’ house that Ben regained consciousness on the morning of the encounter at the Works. He was conscious of a severe pain in his head and a feeling of great weakness. Some one was talking, and gradually a dim realization came to Ben that he was the subject of the conversation. He recognized the voice of Mr. Hodges. “He’s been trying to mine the inside of the old Smelting Works, and Fish the owner served an injunction on him yesterday, just as he was going to get the clean-up for his day’s work.” “That’s a strange enterprise,” some one replied. Ben recognized the doctor’s voice. “Yes; I’m thinking he’s throwing his money away. ’Course he got a little gold, but in my opinion there ain’t enough in the whole shebang to pay for the mule he’s bought.” “Then, he put money into the scheme?” “Every cent he had in the world went into it. Crazy! Might just as well stand on the sea-wall and fling his dollars into the bay. Mine chimneys! Don’t you suppose if there was any gold in that chimney, old Madge, who leased the property, would have got it out years ago? He’s got Ben’s two hundred dollars, though; that’s what suits him better than mining soot.” He laughed at his poor witticism. “Don’t talk about it now,” the doctor said. “He’ll come to, presently.” Ben opened his eyes to see the doctor bending over him. “It’s all right, my boy,” he said. “Don’t be frightened.” Ben dimly wondered where he was. The wound in his breast was painful and he felt very weak. He noticed that Mr. Hodges was standing at the foot of the bed and he surmised that he must have been carried to his house. He closed his eyes and tried to think over the events of the previous night. “It wasn’t much of a knife,” the doctor said, “or it would have done more damage. When you feel able to talk,” he kindly said to Ben, “you can tell us all about it.” The patient nodded and closed his eyes again. Everything seemed slipping from him. “Guess there ain’t much to tell,” Hodges said gruffly. “It’s pretty certain who done it.” Ben’s senses faintly rallied at this remark. “Could it be possible,” he thought, “that they did not know who his assailant was?” He instantly surmised that Hodges suspected Mundon. “Syd must have made good his escape before they found me,” he mentally concluded. “What a coward!”