Mr. Halbrook nodded.

Mr. Wickersham sat down and wrote a letter to Keith, saying that he wished to see him in New York on a matter of business which might possibly turn out to his advantage.  He also wrote a letter to General Keith, suggesting that he might possibly be able to give his son employment, and intimating that it was on account of his high regard for the General.

That day Keith met Squire Rawson on the street.  He was dusty and travel-stained.

“I was jest comin’ to see you,” he said.

They returned to the little room which Keith called his office, where the old fellow opened his saddle-bags and took out a package of papers.

“They all thought I was a fool,” he chuckled as he laid out deed after deed.  “While they was a-talkin’ I was a-ridin’.  They thought I was buyin’ cattle, and I was, but for every cow I bought I got a calf in the shape of the mineral rights to a tract of land.  I’d buy a cow and I’d offer a man half as much again as she was worth if he’d sell me the mineral rights at a fair price, and he’d do it.  He never had no use for ‘em, an’ I didn’t know as I should either; but that young engineer o’ yourn talked so positive I thought I might as well git ’em inside my pasture-fence.”  He sat back and looked at Keith with quizzical complacency.

“Come a man to see me not long ago,” he continued; “Mr. Halbrook—­black-eyed man, with a face white and hard like a tombstone.  I set up and talked to him nigh all night and filled him plumb full of old applejack.  That man sized me up for a fool, an’ I sized him up for a blamed smart Yankee.  But I don’t know as he got much the better of me.”

Keith doubted it too.

“I think it was in and about the most vallyble applejack that I ever owned,” continued the old landowner, after a pause.  “You know, I don’t mind Yankees as much as I used to—­some of ’em.  Of course, thar was Dr. Balsam; he was a Yankee; but I always thought he was somethin’ out of the general run, like a piebald horse.  That young engineer o’ yourn that come to my house several years ago, he give me a new idea about ‘em—­about some other things, too.  He was a very pleasant fellow, an’ he knowed a good deal, too.  It occurred to me ’t maybe you might git hold of him, an’ we might make somethin’ out of these lands on our own account.  Where is he now?”

Keith explained that Mr. Rhodes was somewhere in Europe.

“Well, time enough.  He’ll come home sometime, an’ them lands ain’t liable to move away.  Yes, I likes some Yankees now pretty well; but, Lord!  I loves to git ahead of a Yankee!  They’re so kind o’ patronizin’ to you.  Well,” he said, rising, “I thought I’d come up and talk to you about it.  Some day I’ll git you to look into matters a leetle for me.”

The next day Keith received Mr. Wickersham’s letter requesting him to come to New York.  Keith’s heart gave a bound.

The image of Alice Yorke flashed into his mind, as it always did when any good fortune came to him.  Many a night, with drooping eyes and flagging energies, he had sat up and worked with renewed strength because she sat on the other side of the hot lamp.