Mohave County miner and our mineral wealth., 1922-09-01

some strange force had long been working within him that was steadily growing stronger, was surging now like flame and swinging him between strange moods of depression and exul- tation. Perhaps 1t was but the spirit of spring in his heart, but with his minds eye he was ever seeing at the end of his journey the face of his little cousin Barbara Dale.
 A striking figure the lad made rid ing into the old capital one afternoon just before the sun sank behind the western woods. Students no longer wandered through the campus of Will liam and Mary college. Only an occa- sional maid in silk and lace tripped along the street in high-heeled shoes and clocked stockings, and no coach and four was in sight. The governors palace, in its great yard amid linden trees, was closed and deserted. My Lord Dunmore was long in sad flight, as Erskine later learned, but not in his coach with its six milk-white horses. But theres was the bust of Sir Walter in front of Raleigh tavern, and there he drew up, before the steps where he was once nigh to taking Dane Grey's life. A negro servant came for ward to care for his horse, but a coal black young giant leaped around the corner and seized the britle with a welcoming cry:
 "Marse Erskine! But I knOwed Firefy fust." It was Ephraim, the groom who had brought out Barbara's ponies, who had turned the horse over to him for the race at the fair.
 "I come frum de plantation fer ole marse,' the boy explained The host of the tavern heard and came down to give his welcome, for any Dale. no matter what his garb, could always have the best in that tavern. More than that, bewigged solicitor, learn ing his name, presented himself with the cheerful news that he had quite little sum of money that had been con- fided to his keeping by Colonel Dale for his nephew, Erskine. A strange deference seemed to be paid him by everybody. which was grateful change from the suspicion he had left among his pioneer friends. The little tavern was thronged and the air charged with the spirit of war. Indeed, nothing else was talked. My Lord Dun- more had come to sad and unbe- moaned end. He had stayed afar from the battlefield of Point Pleasant and had left stalwart General Lewis to fight Cornstalk and his braves alone. Later My Lady Dunmore and her sprightly daughters took refuge on a man-of-war-whither my lord soon fol- lowed them. His fleet ravaged the banks of the rivers and committed every outrage. His marines set fire to Norfolk, which was in ashes when he weighed anchor and sailed away to more depredations. When he in- trenched himself on Gwynn's island, that same stalwart Lewis opened heavy cannonade on fleet and island, and sent ball through the indignant nobleman's flagship. Next day he saw a force making for the island in boats and my lord spread all sail; and so back to merry England. and to Vir- ginia no more. Meanwhile, Mr. Wash ington had reached Boston and started his duties under the Cambridge elm. Several times during the talk Erskine had heard mentioned the name of Dane Grey. Young Grey had been with Dunmore and not with Lewis at Point Pleasant, and had been conspicu- ous at the palace through much of the succeeding turmoil-the hint being his devotion to one of the daughters, since he was now an unquestioned loyalst.
 Next morning Erskine rode forth along a sandy road, amidst the sing Ing of birds and through a forest of tiny upshooting deaves, for Red Oaks on the James. He had forsworn Colo nel Dale to secrecy as to the note he had left behind giving his birthright to his little cousin, Barbara, and he knew the confidence would be kept in- violate. At the boat landing he hitched his horse to the lOw-swung branch of an oak and took the path through tangled rose bushes and Nn- dergrOwth along the bank of the river. halting where it would give him forth on the great, broad, grassy way that led to the house among the oaks. There was the sundial that had marked every sunny hour since he had been away. For moment he stood there, and when he stepped into the open he shrank back hastily-a girl was con- ing through the opening of bOxwood from the house-cOming slowly, bare headed. her hands clasped behind her. her eyes downward. His heart thrChbed as he waited, throbbed the more when his ears caught even the soft tread of her little feet, and seemed to stop when she paused at the sundial, and as before searched the river with her eyes, And as before the song of negro Oarsmen came over the yellow flood, growing stronger as they neared. Soon the girl fluttered handkerchief and from the single passenger in the stern