"
"Yes. But I believe he is having a pretty good time where he is."
"We wish he could be here, Anne," said Louise. "I've never met your
brother. He's always been away when I have been East."
"Which has been his misfortune," said Dr. Marshall.
"He writes such beautiful letters about the desert and his mining
claim,--that's his latest fad,--and says he's much stronger. But I
believe they all say that--when they have his trouble, you know."
"From Billy's last letter, I should say he was in pretty fair shape,"
said the doctor. "He's living outdoors and at a good altitude, somewhere
on the desert. He's making money. He posts his letters at a town called
'Dagget,' in this State."
"Up above San Berdoo," said Walter Stone. And he straightway drifted
into reverie, gazing at the bright end of his cigar until it faded in
the darkness.
"Hello!" exclaimed Dr. Marshall, leaning forward. "Sounds like the
exhaust of a pretty heavy car. I didn't imagine any one would drive that
canon road after dark."
"Unusual," said Stone, getting to his feet. "Some one in a hurry. I'll
turn on the porch-light and defy the mosquitoes."
With a leonine roar and a succeeding clatter of empty cylinders, an
immense racing-car stopped at the gate below.
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