Arizona republican., 1898-09-14
THE OLD
 SILVER TRAIL.
BY MARY E. STICKNEY.
Continued from Yesterdav.) CHAPTER III.

CHATTER III.
 They had not far to go, but it was rough climb, and the young mans first words were of apology when, spring ing 10 the ground, ke came back to seize her horse by the bit and guide him up the last few feet over an almost per pendicular mass of loose gray rock.
 II would have gone round by the trai' if had known it was quite so rough; but we're all right now" he said, turn ing to try the door of the rude. hut to which they had come. The horses were huddled together on small, rhc,ub 1idal bit of ground formed at tue top of an old dump pile, which went crumbling away in a sheer descent far down among the trees, some of which had been half buried in the lava-like flow. At the left yawned the mouth of tunnel about which appeared no sign of recent work, while the rough slab door of the shanty was fastened by a chain and paddock so rusted that they seemed to have been exposed to the storms of years. By no means daunted by this obstacle, however, the young man coolly caught up q jagged piece of rock and in a moment the staple was broken and the door thrown open.
 If you will just step inside while I run the horses into the tunnel" ke hastily advised, when he had lifted her 10 the ground. Dorothy needed no second bidding, but once within the door she paused, peering about doubt fully Ii was nothing more than a rude smithy. obviously designed merely for the sharpening of drills used in the tunnel, its floor the bare, brown earth, it's only equipment a great stone forge in one corner with an anvil at one side, few empty candle-boxes, a small pile of wood, and some picks and drills , thrown down with other undistin- guishable rubbish in one corner. i Tt is not quite the lap of luxury, but we might do worse," the stranger smil- ingly observed, as he came back. car rying his hat filled with pine cones, I while he was further laden with an armful of broken sticks. And a fire will help the looks of things amazingly" ITO say nothing of the comfort of it." Miss Meredith rejoined. her teeth chat tering as she smiled. How cold it has erown!"
 That is, the worst of this much vaunted climate; it has a capacity for ! infinite variety. When the barometer gets started on the down grade there is i never any telling where it will stop. 1 The weather is always exceptional, if i ono is to believe the statements of the oldest inhabitants. But there-that i looks encouraging, doesn't it ??'' he said, standing back and pleasedly surveying his work, as . tiny spiral of flame leaped with sputtering eagerness through the i ianp pitchiness of tho piled-up cones on the forge.
 "'I have seen the fire-I am warmed ,'' the girl sn,ilingly quoted, holding out her hands to the blaze. ''It is lovely
 And now won't you sit down and make yourself comfortable?' He turned a candle-box on end for her as he spoke.
 But the box is so low and the fire is so high,' she smilingly objected. "l 1 should only be warming the tip of my nose, and am half frozen"
 Are you?" He looked as dismayed i as though he accepted the statement I literally. "But of course you are. What can I do?" He answered the question i for himself by recklessly heaping upon the forge the greater part of all the dry wood that had been in the hut; from l which he turned to fish out from the 1 debris iii the corner dusty gunny sack, which he held up before him as if dubiously measuring it's possibilities.
 Tt won't do; it is not half big enough" Dorothy exclaimed, divining his idea with merry laugh.
 T suppose not; and it is so ahomin. ably dirty besides,' he disgustedly re- | joined, his laugh by no means so gay as hers, as he threw the thing back where he had found it. But you ought to have something around you; you will have your death of cold. I am afraid my coat is as wet as your dress," anx- iously feeling the sleeve.
 And I could not think of taking it if it were not" she decidedly returned. ''Please don't trouble; I am doing beau tifully. It is such a glorious fire"
 But still, with all the draughts in this sieve of a place Oh, I say, why can't put the box up on the forge for you. to the windward of the smoke so,'' suiting the action to the words, and hastily adding a small erection of sticks 10 save her feet from contact with the ashes. "Now, Miss Meredith, you won't l find this half bad, l promise you. Come" He confidently held out his l hand to assist her.
 'But 1 cannot" the girl protested, laughing at the idea, even though as she spoke she yielded the point, meek ly permitting herself to try the strange construction. q feel like Patience on a monument, smiling at grief," she laughingly observed, glancing about from the high perch.
 And will I do to personate grief?" he amusedly returned. '.Niobe could hardly have been wetter than I, fancy.