did. No sooner was he fairly in the road than he broke into a gallop,

and in less than five minutes brought his rider to a little tumble-down shanty, where half a dozen miners were lounging on the porch. They all started up and looked at Guy in amazement, seemingly unable to make up their minds whether he was a live boy or a ghost.

“Halloo!” exclaimed one of the men, “who on earth are you, and where did you come from?”

“I have been lost in the mountains for the last two days, and am almost starved to death,” answered Guy, in a faint voice.

“Well, I should say you were, if one can judge by your looks. Come in. Such as we’ve got you’re welcome to.”

The man approached to assist Guy to dismount, and it was well he did so, for he was just in time to receive him in his arms. The boy was utterly overcome with weakness, and when he tried to swing himself from his saddle his head reeled, and he would have fallen to the ground if the man had not supported him.

“He’s pretty near gone up,” said one of the miners, “but I guess a bit of something will bring him around all right.”

The speaker secured Guy’s horse, another assisted him into the house and seated him on a bench, a third brought from a cupboard an abundant supply of bread and meat, which he placed before him, and the others stood around, waiting with no little curiosity and impatience to hear his story.

The miners had seen any number of hungry men since they had been in the mountains, but that was the first time they had ever seen food disappear so rapidly before a boy of Guy’s size. The latter was perfectly ravenous. He stopped at last, not because he had eaten enough, but because his host interfered and took away the eatables.

“Thar, now,” said the man, “you’ve stowed away about enough of that grub for this time, and you had better let up or you’ll bust.”

“I am busted already,” said Guy, wiping his lips; “busted and disgusted.”

“Broke?” asked the man.

“Flat as a pancake,” said Guy. “I am very grateful for your kindness, sir, and am sorry I cannot in some way repay it. I am able to go on now, and would be glad if you would show me the nearest road to the States.”

“Going to leave Californy?”

“Just as fast as horse-flesh can carry me.”

“But how did you come to get lost?”

Guy’s story was a short one, and was soon told. Some of the miners seemed to believe it, while others looked a little incredulous. But Guy did not care for that. He had the best of evidence that every word he uttered was the truth.

While he was telling his story a horseman drew up before the shanty, and dismounting, proceeded to give Guy’s steed a good looking over, closely examining a brand on the animal’s flank, and referring occasionally to a note-book which he drew from his pocket. The miners watched every move he made, now and then exchanging winks with one another, and looking toward Guy in a way the latter could not understand.