“Mrs. Banks is fine,” he answered, his bleak face glowing.  “My, yes, seems like she makes a better showing now than she did at the Corners seven years back.”

“Still driving those bays?” asked Frederic.

The mining man nodded with reluctance.  “It’s no use to try to get her to let ’em alone long’s they are on the place, and I couldn’t sneak ’em away; she was always watching around.  She thinks Tisdale will likely sell when he sees she can manage the team.”

“So,” laughed Morganstein, “you’ll have to come up with that Christmas present, after all.”

“They will do for her birthday,” replied Banks gravely.  “I picked out a new ring for Christmas.  It was a first-class diamond, and she liked it all right.  She said,” and a shade of humor warmed his face, “she would have to patronize the new manicure store down to Wenatchee, if I expected her to have hands fit to wear it, and if she had to live up to that ring, it would cost me something before she was through.”

“And did she try the parlors?” asked Elizabeth seriously.

“My, yes, and it was worth the money.  Her hands made a mighty fine showing the first trip, and before she used up her ticket, I was telling her she’d have to wear mittens when she played the old melodion, or likely her fingers would get hurt hitting the keys.”

Banks laughed his high, strained laugh, and Morganstein echoed it deeply.  “Ought to have an establishment in the new town,” he said.

“We are going to,” the prospector replied; “as soon as the new brick block is ready to open up.  There’s going to be manicure and hair-dressing parlors back of the millinery store.  Lucile, Miss Lucile Purdy of Sedgewick-Wilson’s, is coming over to run ’em both.  She can do it, my, yes.”

“Now I can believe you have a self-respecting and wide-awake town,” commented Mrs. Feversham.  “But is the big department store backing Miss Purdy?”

“No, ma’am.  We ain’t talking about it much, but Mrs. Banks has put up money; she says she is the silent partner of the concern.”

“Is that so?” questioned Morganstein thoughtfully.  “Seems to me you are banking rather heavy on the new town.”

Banks’ eyes gleamed appreciation, but the capitalist missed his inadvertent pun.  After a moment, the mining man said:  “I guess the millinery investment won’t break us; but there’s no question about Weatherbee’s being a live town, and Lucile can sell goods.”

“I presume next,” said Mrs. Feversham with veiled irony, “we shall be hearing of you as the first mayor of Weatherbee.”

Banks shook his head gravely.  “They shouldered that on to Henderson Bailey.”

“I remember,” said Frederic.  “Man who started the orchard excitement, wasn’t he?  Got in on the ground floor and platted some of his land in city lots.  Naturally, he’s running for mayor.”

“He’s it,” responded the mining man.  “The election came off Tuesday, and he led his ticket, my, yes, clear out of sight.”