“She was left alone after her father’s death?” “Oh, no; there is a family--a mother and two younger girls.” “Migrants, like all the rest of us, I suppose?” “Yes; from Mississippi. They came out for the father’s health--and came too late. He was an ex-rebel soldier.” “Perhaps they have gone back to the South.” Philip shook his head. “I hardly think so; I doubt if they had the means. The war had left them poor.” “Tell me more,” Bromley urged. “I can’t tell you much more, only I suspect the burden of the family support has been dumped upon the shoulders of the oldest daughter. And I don’t know how she would be able to carry it in this man-ridden town.” “The mother?” Bromley suggested. “A dear lady, I should say, from what little I saw of her, but helpless.” “I understand; a woman who has never had to do for herself anything that black servants could do for her.” “Something of that sort,” said Philip. “Tell me what you’ve done toward locating them.” Philip briefed the story of the day’s efforts, and Bromley held his peace while the waiter was clearing the table for the dessert. But afterward he said: “Your note may bring the required information; but if it doesn’t, we’ve got to think up some other way. Miss Jean and her family must be found, if they are still in Denver.” Philip looked up quickly. “How did you know her name?” he demanded; and Bromley laughed. “Didn’t you christen the ‘Little Jean’?” he asked. “It didn’t require any great amount of clairvoyance to figure out where the name came from. What is the rest of it?” “Dabney.” “A good old Southern name; they used to be D’Aubignys in Colonial times.” “What do you know about them?” “Nothing, excepting what little leaked into me out of the history books in school: French, of course, and Huguenots. Settled first in Virginia, I believe. But that’s not to the point. As I say, we’ve got to find Miss Jean.” “‘We’?” Philip queried. “That is what I said. Your relations with the young woman are your own, and I’m not messing in on them. Mine are in the nature of a debt.” “But you don’t know her!” Philip protested. “No more I don’t; but the debt remains. Tell me baldly, Phil: would you ever have thought of taking me on the prospecting trip, if she hadn’t suggested it?” “Since you put it that way, I might not have.” “Very well, then. In that case I owe her my stake in the game, whatever it is, or whatever it may eventually amount to. We must find this shipwrecked family.” Philip shook his head in discouragement. “If she doesn’t get my note and answer it, it will be much like looking for a needle in a haystack. You see what this town has grown to in a single year. Besides, if we should find the Dabneys, I can assure you in advance that they are not the kind of people you can give money to.”