This question James Starr could not cease asking himself.
Was he called to make conquest of another corner of these rich
treasure fields? Fain would he hope it was so.

The second letter had for an instant checked his speculations on this
subject, but now he thought of that letter no longer. Besides, the son
of the old overman was there, waiting at the appointed rendezvous.
The anonymous letter was therefore worth nothing.

The moment the engineer set foot on the platform at the end
of his journey, the young man advanced towards him.


"Are you Harry Ford?" asked the engineer quickly.

"Yes, Mr. Starr."

"I should not have known you, my lad. Of course in ten years
you have become a man!"

"I knew you directly, sir," replied the young miner, cap in hand.
"You have not changed. You look just as you did when you bade us
good-by in the Dochart pit. I haven't forgotten that day."

"Put on your cap, Harry," said the engineer. "It's pouring,
and politeness needn't make you catch cold."

"Shall we take shelter anywhere, Mr. Starr?" asked young Ford.

"No, Harry. The weather is settled. It will rain all day,