the incident, and only thought her more lovely than ever. Why should not
the expressman think so too? And yet the boy was not happy; something
intruded upon his sports, upon his books, making them dull and vapid,
and yet that something was she! He grew pale and preoccupied. If he had
only some one in whom to confide--some one who could explain his hopes
and fears. That one was nearer than he thought!

It was quite three weeks since the rattlesnake incident, and he was
wandering moodily over Casket Ridge. He was near the Casket, that abrupt
upheaval of quartz and gneiss, shaped like a coffer, from which the
mountain took its name. It was a favorite haunt of Leonidas, one of
whose boyish superstitions was that it contained a treasure of gold, and
one of whose brightest dreams had been that he should yet discover it.
This he did not do to-day, but looking up from the rocks that he was
listlessly examining, he made the almost as thrilling discovery that
near him on the trail was a distinguished-looking stranger.

He was bestriding a shapely mustang, which well became his handsome
face and slight, elegant figure, and he was looking at Leonidas with
an amused curiosity and a certain easy assurance that were difficult to
withstand. It was with the same fascinating self-confidence of smile,
voice, and manner that he rode up to the boy, and leaning lightly over
his saddle, said with exaggerated politeness: "I believe I have the
pleasure of addressing Mr. Leonidas Boone?"

The rising color in Leonidas's face was apparently a sufficient
answer to the stranger, for he continued smilingly, "Then permit me to
introduce myself as Mr. James Belcher. As you perceive, I have grown
considerably since you last saw me. In fact, I've done nothing else.
It's surprising what a fellow can do when he sets his mind on one thing.