of pocket by it--struck the official into helpless admiration. He
hesitated.

"That's all," said Miss Mayfield coolly; "you need not wait. The letter
was only an excuse to get Mr. Briggs out of the way."

"I understand ye, miss." He hesitated still. "Do you reckon to stop in
these parts long?"

"I don't know."

"'Cause ye ought to come down some day to the Forks."

"Yes."

"Good morning, miss."

"Good morning."

Yet at the corner of the house the rascal turned and looked back at the
little figure in the sunlight. He had just been physically overcome by a
younger man--he had lost ten dollars--he had a wife and three children.
He forgot all this. He had been captivated by Miss Mayfield!

That practical heroine sat there five minutes. At the end of that time
Jeff came bounding down the hill, his curls damp with perspiration; his
fresh, honest face the picture of woe, HER woe, for the letter could not
be found!

"Never mind, Mr. Jeff. I wrote another and gave it to him."