drag him out and lynch him. Dad knew the truth, however, and he rushed to the place and held the mob back with his pistol until he could tell them the real facts. At first they were so angry they refused to listen, but by and by they did, and instead of killing Grandfather they went and found the engineers who were to blame.” 61

61

Ellen waited.

“What did they do to them?” she demanded at last.

“Oh, they hung them instead of Grandfather,” answered Lucy simply.

“How many of them?”

“I don’t know. Three or four, I guess.”

It was evident that Lucy was quite indifferent to the fate of the unlucky engineers.

“Mercy on us!” Ellen gasped.

“But their carelessness caused the death of the other men. It was only fair.”

“So that’s the way you settle things in the West?”

“Yes. At least, they did then.”

The mountain-bred girl obviously saw nothing amiss in this swift-footed justice.

“And where did your mother come in?” asked her aunt.

“Why, you see, Grandfather Duquesne afterward made Dad the boss of the mine, and when Mother, a girl of sixteen, came home from the California convent, where she had been at school, she saw him and fell in love with him. Grandfather Duquesne made an awful fuss, but he let her marry him.” 62

62

Lucy threw back her head with one of her rippling laughs.

“He had to,” she added merrily. “Mother’d have married Dad anyway.”

Ellen studied the tea grounds in the bottom of her cup thoughtfully.

How strange it was to picture Thomas the hero of a romance like this! She had heard that once in his life every man became a poet; probably this was Thomas’s era of transformation.

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