the recovered treasure. 'See, Bell, his curls are glistening with
pitch, his dress is torn into ribbons, and his hands--ugh, how
dirty!'

'Poor little darling, he is thoroughly used up,' whispered Bell,
wiping tears of joy from her brown eyes. 'Now, I'll run home like
lightning to blow the horn; and you carry Dicky, for he is too sleepy
and stiff to walk; and, Geoff'--(here she laid an embarrassed hand on
his shoulder)--'I'm afraid he'll be awfully cross, but you'll not
mind it, will you? He's so worn-out.'

'Not I,' laughed Geoff, as he dropped a brotherly kiss on Bell's pale
cheek. 'But I've no idea of letting you go alone; you're tired to
death, and you'll miss the path. I wish I could carry you both.'

'Tired--afraid!' cried Bell, with a ringing laugh, while Dicky woke
with a stare, and nestled on Geoffrey's shoulder as if nothing had
happened. 'Why, now that this weight is lifted off my heart, I could
see a path in an untravelled forest! Good-bye, you dear, darling,
cruel boy! I must run, for every moment is precious to mamma.' And
with one strangling hug, which made Dicky's ribs crack, she dashed
off.

Oh how joyously, how sweetly and tunefully, the furious blast of the
old cracked dinner-horn fell on the anxious ears in that canyon. It
seemed clearer and more musical than a chime of silver bells.

In a trice the wandering couples had gathered jubilantly round the
camp-fire, all embracing Bell, who was the heroine of the hour--
entirely by chance, and not though superior vision or courage, as she