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So saying, the carpenter cast a casual glance around, as if to convey to all spectators the fact that he was perfectly familiar with hotel tables and the manner of dining thereat. The glance included the young mine manager, but this time that gentleman’s sense of humor was not touched. A vague uneasiness stirred within him, and it was his ardent hope that when the home-returning party took the train for Marion the old sharpshooter would rejoin them.

“Mrs. Trent will be grieved if he forsakes Sobrante now that Jessica is gone. The old man is ‘touchy,’ as the boys say; and he has never quite forgiven his old mates for that temporary doubt of his honesty. The ‘house’ will be lonely, indeed, if neither he nor the little ‘Captain’ goes in and out of it. Yes, I hope he’ll be on hand; and till that time I’ll not mention him to the lady of the ranch.”

However, when—dinner past and business transacted—the Sobrante household gathered at the station, en route for home, old Ephraim Marsh was still absent from his rightful place; and to Mrs. Trent’s anxious exclamation: