one of the greatest mining authorities in the West."

But at this point Cash perceived that Mr. Bell's party had finished
seeing to the disposal of their piles of baggage and were headed for
the hotel. The operation had been a long one, as they bestowed
particular attention upon sundry wooden boxes of oblong shape which
might have held almost anything. Whatever their contents might be
they were evidently held in some esteem by the Bell party.

A few seconds after Cash had broken off the conversation so
abruptly, he was greeting the new arrivals. The other porch
loungers stood sheepishly at some distance, some of them uneasily
twisting their fingers. The presence of the young girls in the
party filled them with a bashful terror such as the had never
experienced in the numerous adventures and perils through which most
of them had passed.

"The young ladies are Miss Prescott and Miss Bancroft," Mr. Bell
said, introducing his companions, after the fashion of the Western
country, to the hotel proprietor; "this is Roy Prescott and his
chum, Jimsy Bancroft, and this," indicating the man whose
resemblance to himself had already been remarked upon, "this is my
brother, Mr. Peter Bell."

"Glad ter meet yer, miss; glad ter meet yer all, I'm sure,"
sputtered out Cash with one of his finest bows, and Cash was
reckoned to be "a right elegant chap" in that primitive society.