“Is that so?” The little man beamed.  “Well, the house is all done and waiting, my, yes, whenever you are ready to move over.”

“Why, Beatriz,” said Elizabeth in alarm, “I am going to take that desert tract off your hands.  I’ve been interested in reclamation work for months.”  And looking at Banks, she added significantly:  “I am afraid she is talking too much.”

“Likely,” replied the prospector, rising, “and I am due to take a little hike up the canyon with Hollis Tisdale.”

“Mr. Tisdale?” she asked, with a quick brightening of her face.  “Then he is quite well again.  Miss Morganstein told me he was saved—­from that unfortunate train,” and she added, shivering and closing her eyes, “I remember—­that.”

“I couldn’t have got there in time,” Banks hurried to explain, “even if you had given up making the summit.  Likely I’d have got caught by the slide, and Hollis was half-way to the Springs and ‘feeling fit as a moose’ when it started.  Well, good-by, ma’am; take care of yourself.”

“Good-by, Mr. Banks,” and she smiled once more.  “You may expect me at Hesperides Vale in a few days; as soon as my things at Vivian Court are packed.”  And she added, with the color softly warming her cheek, “Mr. Tisdale might like to know that.  He always wished to see David’s project carried through.”

And the little man replied from the door:  “I’ll tell him, ma’am, my, yes.”

The special, which brought other seekers besides Joey’s grandfather, also conveyed Jimmie Daniels.  It was his last assignment with the Press; he and Geraldine were to be married within the week and assume the editorial position at Weatherbee.  And he pushed up over Tisdale’s trail, now become well broken, eager to make a final scoop and his best one.  Hours later, when he should have been back at Scenic Hot Springs, rushing his copy through to his paper, he still remained on the slope below the west portal to carry out the brief and forceful instructions of the man who directed and dominated everybody; who knew in each emergency the one thing to do.  Once Jimmie found himself aiding Banks to wrap a woman’s body in a blanket to be lowered by tackle down the mountainside.  She was young, not older than Geraldine, and the sight of her—­rounded cheek, dimpled chin, arm so beautifully molded—­all with the life snuffed out without a moment’s warning—­gave him a sensation of being smothered.  He was seized with a compelling desire to get away, and to conquer his panic, he asked the prospector whether this man was not the superintendent of the mountain division.

The mining man replied:  “No, that’s the railroad boss over there with the gang handling the derrick; this is Tisdale, Hollis Tisdale of Alaska and Washington, D.C.  You ought to have heard of him in your line of business if you never happened to see him before.”

Then Jimmie, turning to look more directly at the stranger, hastily dropped his face.  “You are right,” he said softly, “I’ve known him by sight some time.”