The Forbidden Trail. Honoré Morrow

year, with the novel sense of achievement in his heart, the joy of the day was unalloyed.

      Although Papa Wolf was obdurate about the adventure, his big heart could not permit him to allow him to let Austin spend Christmas day in a hotel. When he learned that Austin had a wife and child in Washington, nothing would do but that the Smithsonian man should share in a home Christmas. Papa Wolf provided another guest also, a stranger named Adolph Werner. He was a German banker, traveling across America on business, and the Wolf family was instructed to treat him with great deference. Stout and bespectacled, he proved a delightful guest and Dr. Austin displayed a gift for comic songs that brought the house down.

      The two guests discovered that they both had studied for several years in Munich and a great meeting of spirits followed, materially assisted by Papa Wolf, Uncle Hugo and a bowl of Glüh Wein. And when it was still further discovered that Werner's next stopping place was St. Louis, he was invited at once to join the Sun Planters, as Elsa had dubbed them. He accepted at once and on New Year's Day, with Elsa and her mother weeping and Papa Wolf blinking back tears but sternly refusing to say good-by, the party pulled out of the little Eagle's Wing station. Herr Werner proved to be a delightful traveling companion and he became so much interested in the details of the experiment that he insisted that he be invited to visit the plant; an invitation that was given most cordially by Roger.

      Thanks to Dr. Austin's experienced presence, the purchases in St. Louis were made in record time and at the end of the second week in January, Roger and Ernest set forth alone for the desert country.

      It was their first trip west of the Mississippi and both men were absorbed in watching the changes of scenery as the train whirled from one state to the next. Albuquerque was an hour behind when Ernest came into the smoking compartment where Roger was engaged in drawing on the back of an old envelope.

      "Say, Rog, I know you aren't interested in the sex, but there's the most unusual little girl on the train. She's seven years old and traveling all alone. Her name is Felicia. She got in at Kansas City. They checked her through like a pup. She's going out to join her brother and sister on a mining claim near Archer's Springs."

      Roger did not stop his pencil. "Seems as if we'd have neighbors," he said.

      "I hope this is a sample of Archer's Springs girls!" said Ernest. "Honestly, Roger, she's a lovely kid. Come on back and see her. I'm going to take her out on the observation platform with me."

      Roger grunted, and Ernest, with a grin, left him in peace. It was an hour later when Roger, having forgotten about the child, but wanting to ask Ernest a question, made his way to the observation platform. It was so exceedingly dusty that Ernest and his little friend had it to themselves.

      "Here she is, little Felicia!" cried Ernest. "And here he is, big Roger!"

      The little girl looked up at Roger. He returned the look with a surprised interest. He did not know much about little girls, but it seemed to him that she must be rather unusual. She had large brown eyes of astounding depth and softness. She was tall for her seven years, tall and graceful, in a short soiled blue gingham dress, and socks wrinkling down on stubby Oxford ties. Her hair was brown, curly and short. There were lovely curves in her scarlet drooping lips, and a fine arch in her head, above the ears.

      She made a little curtsey and shook hands in the limp manner of childhood. Roger smiled at her, and sat down.

      "Ernest, what was the size of the glass you and Dr. Austin were finally able to get?"

      "Eight by twelve. Felicia, tell Mr. Moore where you're going."

      "Out to live with Charley and Dick," said the child obediently.

      "Have they been there long?" asked Roger, lighting his pipe.

      "Ever since Mother died. They left me with Aunt May. But now I'm going out to be with Charley. Dear, dearest Charley, that's what Aunt May says."

      "Charley must be your favorite brother," commented Roger, a trifle absentmindedly as he tried to define the disconcerting attraction Felicia had for him.

      "Ho! How silly you are!" laughed the little girl. "Charley's my big only sister. Her whole name is Charlotte Emerson Preble and she looks just like me. Aunt May says so."

      "Preble!" exclaimed both the men.

      "Charley Preble!" Roger went on. "Ern, don't you remember the pretty little girl who used to play with us?"

      "Of course I do. That's why Felicia has been puzzling us so. We were just kids, but seems to me Charley looked exactly as she does."

      "Did sister Charley ever talk to you about Eagle's Wing?" asked Roger.

      "I don't recollect Charley. She went out to take care of Dick when I was so little. Charley's awful good. She'll take such care of me as never was on sea or land. Aunt May says so. And I'll love her more than I do God."

      "Was Dick sick? I remember him as a big, husky boy, don't you, Ern?"

      Ernest shook his head. "I don't remember him. You were the one who used to go out to Prebles' to play."

      "Dicky was sick," Felicia piped on. "Dicky's like Dad. He'll never amount to much, Aunt May says."

      "Look at the queer kind of cactus we're beginning to pass, Felicia," interrupted Roger, hastily.

      Felicia leaned against his knee. No little girl ever had done so before and Roger looked at her curiously.

      "The desert's awful homely, isn't it?" she said.