After breakfast they again strolled out into the sunlight, Mr. Britton

seating himself upon a projecting ledge of granite, while Darrell threw

himself down upon the mountain grass, his head resting within his

clasped hands.

"What an ideal spot for my work!" he exclaimed.

Mr. Britton smiled. "I fear you would never accomplish much with me

here. I must return to the city soon, or you will degenerate into a

confirmed idler."

"I have often thought," said Darrell, reflectively, "that when I have

completed this work I would like to attempt a novel. It seems as though

there is plenty of material out here for a strong one. Think of the

lives one comes in contact with almost daily--stranger than fiction,

every one!"

"Your own, for instance," Mr. Britton suggested.

"Yours also," Darrell replied, in low tones; "the story of your life, if

rightly told, would do more to uplift men's souls than nine-tenths of

the sermons."

"The story of my life, my son, will never be told to any ear other than

your own, and I trust to your love for me that it will go no farther."

"Of that you can rest assured," Darrell replied.

As the sun climbed towards the zenith they returned to the cabin and

seated themselves on a broad settee of rustic work under an overhanging

vine near the cabin door.

"I have been wondering ever since I came here," said Darrell, "how you

ever discovered such a place as this. It is so unique and so appropriate

to the surroundings."

"I discovered," said Mr. Britton, with slight emphasis on the word,

"only the 'surroundings.' The cabin is my own work."

"What! do you mean to say that you built it?"

"Yes, little by little. At first it was hardly more than a rude shelter,

but I gradually enlarged it and beautified it, trying always, as you

say, to keep it in harmony with its surroundings."

"Then you are an artist and a genius."

"But that is not the only work I did during the first months of my life

here. Come with me and I will show you."

He led the way along the trail, farther up the mountain, till a sharp

turn hid him from view. Darrell, following closely, came upon the

entrance of an incline shaft leading into the mountain. Just within he

saw Mr. Britton lighting two candles which he had taken from a rocky

ledge; one of these he handed to Darrell, and then proceeded down the

shaft.

"A mine!" Darrell exclaimed.

"Yes, and a valuable one, were it only accessible so that it could be

developed without enormous expense; but that is out of the question."

The underground workings were not extensive, but the vein was one of

exceptional richness. When they emerged later Darrell brought with him

some specimens and a tiny nugget of gold as souvenirs.




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