Jeb, out early to seek for stray cattle, saw the fresh slide and gazed
wonderingly at it. Then he spied the nose and hoof of a burro
protruding from the shale. He rushed to the barn where he had left Mr.
Brewster, and in a short time master and man had the tools and "cradle"
back at the spot, and Noddy was soon unearthed. She was unconscious, and
Jeb declared it was useless to bother with a burro so evidently far
gone. Even Mr. Brewster feared she was past help, but Polly insisted
that Noddy must live.

All that morning Polly sat holding the limp brown head while whispering
words of affection in the long ears, and who will say that Noddy's
instinct did not respond to love, even though the physical sense of
hearing was deaf to earthly sounds? She slowly revived and was resting
comfortably when the house-call came for dinner.

Mr. Brewster returned after dinner, bringing a bowl of gruel for the
burro, and Jeb followed his master to inquire about the patient.

"Jeb, you-all help me feed Noddy while Polly runs to the house for her
dinner," said Mr. Brewster.

"I'd a heap rather wait here and help with Noddy, Paw!"

"Oh, Polly! Maw told me to say there was a letter for you. Jim Melvin
stopped off with our mail he got at Oak Creek to-day."

"A letter! Who can it be from?" asked Polly wonderingly.
"That's what you must find out. It looks like a girl's writing and it
is post-marked Denver. Who do you know there?" replied her father.