And then the same old question of the disappearance of Dora came uppermost again. “De only news I effer hat vos dot dey tooket her to Cheyenne, und den I vatch und look und hunt, und von day I heard dot a party of four dot looket like dem haf come dis vay. So I come, too. Ah, Bennie! vot ve haf sufferet--Loney und I! Ah, Gott! und if I shall lif to pe twice as olt as Methusela I shall nefer forget dis place vot dey call Hellandgone. Poor Dora! if dey haf pring her here ve nefer vill find her!” And Dora was not ten feet away from her father and lover, lying in a stupor from the potion which Muriel had found it necessary to give her to calm her nerves, for some subtle instinct seemed to warn the poor girl that her loved ones were near. While Morris and Bennie were waiting for Snakesy Duffy to return, Helen came back for the tobacco she had wished to take with her. She started, on seeing the shoemaker, whose strong features were not of a mould to be easily forgotten. After one sharp look she advanced to him, saying: “It is! It is my preserver! Praise Heaven! I see you again!” “You are mistakenet, matam. I gannot efen preserve meinselluf. I am de wrong man. I don’t know you.” “Why, you are Morris Goldberg, of New York, are you not?” “I am if I am lifing, but how you know me I cannot see.” “I can tell you. Because you took a poor, forsaken, heart-broken wreck and taught her that it was never too late to mend. You helped me to come out here and reform, and Heaven will bless you for it. I haven’t touched a drop since that day.” “Dot’s right. Don’t efer touch it again, and I von’t, eider. Vell, vell! vot for a change. I vouldn’t effer haf known you.” “I am out here, alone, with the mountains, the sky, the birds and flowers, and the wild creatures. I live close--oh, very close--to Nature, in a little shack. I never come down, except when there is sickness or accident--some one that needs care and devotion. Those are all the riches I have, but I find them enough. You see me well and strong, quite a different being from the miserable creature you saved. My brain is clear, my health perfect, and I owe it all to you. But what are you doing here?” “Mein chilt, my daughter, Dora, vos stolen! Und I am out here looking for her. I t’ink she cannot be much farder avay. I haf a feelings in mein heart dot she vill pe fount, but it is a long time.” Just then Shoshone came into the room. There was a strange gleam in his eyes, and a new manner quite unknown to Helen. He walked quietly, but there was a suppressed excitement in his walk and look, but he kept quiet. Helen was saying: “Your daughter stolen! How I wish to Heaven that I could help you! Have you any idea who took her away?” “From what de Loney say, it vos Dopey Mack und de tall smooth-faced man vot vos in mein shop de first day you comet.” “What did your daughter look like, pardner?” asked Shoshone quietly.