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“Come here Betty, till I clean yer face. Where is that boy Moses? I know he had a hand in this. Drat him anyhow,” said the incensed Mrs. Wopp. “I suppose you have a large farm, Mr. Wopp,” said Nell Gordon. “Surely; but—”.

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May Nell was not taken to her father; he came to her. Edith’s pictures of the little girl fulfilled their mission; they met him as soon as he landed from South America. He had been a busy man during those few days; had found not only his child but his wife, ill in a country sanitarium; where, for weeks after the earthquake and fire had, she supposed, swallowed her little daughter, she lingered, praying only to die. Now with husband and child both saved to her, she was fast growing well; needed only their presence to complete her recovery. “I like Sunday School best ’cause I do things there.” May Nell! Where was she? He had forgotten her! It must be three—four— Oh, how late was it? Was she safe? Or had she fainted from fright; and was she lying there now, helpless? He looked across the plashing river to the green, blossoming isle, grateful for water and grass and green shrub, and the sheltering Lodge that would keep her safe from the fire. Yet the terror of being there alone, of seeing that awful sheet of flame sweep down the mountain to her very feet,—perhaps a fainting spell,—that surely must have followed,—with no one there to revive her, it might be—fatal! “Two coyotes most hed him,” he explained. “Jist near the big slough, the spunky little critter started chasin’ them. Then they turned on him an’ he done some fine sprintin’. I tried to turn the team to go an’ meet him, but the hosses acted up, an’ as soon as I got them quieter the dog was atween them an’ the coyotes slinkin’ away. It were a close shave fer him.”.