door. "There's a boy here, Miss Kate," she said, "who is asking for the gentleman."
"Asking for the gentleman?" repeated Miss Kate.
"Yes, ma'am. The gentleman who has just come. The gentleman from the West."
"Axing for me?" cried the ranchman, getting up quickly.
"It must be for you, sir," said Aunt Kate. "Let the boy come in, Sally."
In a minute a shuffling, tow-headed, bare-footed lad of ten years or so entered bashfully. He was a son of one of the fishermen living along the Sokennet shore.
"You wanter see me, son?" demanded the Westerner. "Bill Hicks, of Bullhide?"
"Dunno wot yer name is, Mister," said the boy. "But air you lookin' for a gal that was brought ashore from the wreck of that lumber schooner?"
"That's me!" cried Mr. Hicks.
"Then I got suthin' for ye," said the boy, and thrust a soiled envelope toward him. "Jack Crab give it to me last night. He said I was to come over this morning an' wait for you to come. Phin says you had come, w'en I got here. That's all."
"Hold on!" cried Tom Cameron, as the boy started to go out, and Mr. Hicks ripped open
