"Bob, shall we announce it?" whispered her mother.

"No, they do not know Percival, and, moreover, not one of these people appreciate his social standing."

So the young people now gathered about Mrs. Maynard's tea-table were deprived (so Bob thought) of the greatest event of the past social season-her engagement to one of the most aristocratic and wealthiest eligibles on the market, Percival Weston.

Barbara twirled her solitaire smilingly, nor cared that her Percival was bald and diminutive, past the prime in life, and not over-brilliant. Had he not been the catch at Newport the previous Summer? And had he not attached himself to her as soon as she appeared in the Adirondack Camp presided over by the famous society leader of New York?

CHAPTER XIII-BACK AGAIN AT PEBBLY PIT

"Oh, Nolla! Isn't this great after old New York?" cried Polly, as they were all jostled in the big ranch-wagon driven by Mr. Brewster, as it rumbled over the trail to Pebbly Pit.

"We-all think it's great, Poll; but wait till you see what your going to New York did to the old Pit! No one to blame for it but yourself,"

laughed her father.

"We heard there was a row of buildings down behind the Imps, and that a fine roadway was constructed through the Devil's Causeway," said Polly, eagerly.

"But no one told you how John and Tom came here as soon as college closed, and brought a railroad man with them to see about building a spur from Bear Forks to the valley at the foot of Grizzly Slide. It's twenty miles nearer Denver than Oak Creek, so the company agreed to risk the work if Pebbly Pit would guarantee a certain amount of travel and freight over the road."

"Well-did you, Daddy?" asked Polly, eagerly.

"Tom Latimer did. Agreed to put up bonds for same."

"Tom? Why Tom Latimer?" asked Eleanor.

"Oh, Tom is mighty ambitious, you know, and seems as if he liked this section better than the East. However, it is Tom we-all can thank for that new railroad. When you-all come home next year, you-all will be riding over your own tracks." Mr. Brewster chuckled.

"Is Tom going to join that crew of engineers that John and he were with last year?" now asked Eleanor.

"No, indeed! Tom and John will be right here with us this summer. We-all need their help in working out the problems of the mine and Rainbow Cliffs," responded Sam Brewster.

"I don't suppose we'll see a bit of John as long as Anne and her mother remain in Denver, visiting their old friends," pouted Polly, jealously.

Her father glanced slyly at her, and smiled. He felt sorry for his little girl who had always felt that her brother John was her own personal property. Now that someone claimed first love and attention from him it was mighty hard for her, as well as for Mrs. Brewster.

"Ah should wonder at John if he failed in gallantry to his sweetheart,"

was all Sam Brewster said aloud.

"Oh! Everyone makes me tired! Anyone'd think Anne Stewart was a saint.

She's only a girl the same as Nolla, or me. And no one is found going mad over either one of _us_!" cried Polly, pettishly.

Eleanor laughed. "Give us a few years and then see!"

Polly curled her lip impatiently. "A few years from now and I'll be in Europe with dear old Fabian, studying art. I won't want attention from anyone, then."

"Seems to me," ventured Mr. Brewster, gently, "my little girl is hankering for homage or a beau-which is it?"

Polly stared aghast. "Neither one! How dare you say so."

"You-all were speaking of attention."

"But I was only thinking of _John_. He'll have Anne for a wife all his life long-after next year. But he won't have _me_ after I finish school."

In spite of the tearful tone, Mr. Brewster had to laugh. "Don't waste your time on John, Polly girl. Let me make up for him and be your devoted attendant. Ah'll always be at your beck and call!"

"Oh, Dad! That reminds me!" exclaimed Polly, turning square around to face her father, and forgetting her recent misery over John. "_How_ did you ever manage about that rose valentine you sent me?"

Sam Brewster let the reins dangle recklessly as he, in turn, stared at his daughter. "What valentine?"

Polly winked roguishly and laughed. "You can't pull the wool over my eyes, Daddy. I've spent a whole year in New York to some advantage, you see. I have seen lots of such feigned innocence as yours."

"But honest, Poll, Ah don't even know what you-all are talking about; Ah got your sweet valentine, and so did maw."

Polly frowned at her father. "Didn't you wire to a florist in New York and order a dozen great roses for my valentine? And tie the two hearts pierced by a golden arrow, about the center of the flower-stems?"

"Positively, this is the first word Ah've heard of it!" declared Sam Brewster so emphatically, that the girls believed him.

"Now, Polly, the hunt is narrowing down," laughed Eleanor. "We know it was no one in New York, and it wasn't Jim or Ken. Your father says he didn't do it, so it leaves only a few more to ask."

Suddenly Polly clasped her hands. Her face was radiant. "Why, of course!

How could I forget? It was dear old John! He, too, always remembered me on Valentine Day." Then turning to her father, and shaking a finger at him, she added: "But you didn't remember me, this year, bad man."

"Tell truth, Polly, there was so much to think about and so much to do, over the buildings and mines, that Ah clean forgot there ever was such a day, until I got your card. Then I felt sorry."

"Well, thank goodness, John remembered!" sighed Polly. And Eleanor noticed that she smiled again in forgiveness of her brother's shortcomings.

When the wagon stopped at the porch of the ranch-house, Eleanor laughed: "Just as we drove up last year-but oh, how different this year!"

Mrs. Brewster hurried out to welcome her dear girls, and laughed at Eleanor's remark. "Still making Irish bulls, Nolla!"

They all laughed merrily, and then Sary rushed from her kitchen, and clasped Polly to her ample bosom. Eleanor came in for her share of the maid's embrace before she had to hurry back to the dinner.

"Ah'se cookin' cabbige soup, Miss Nolla," she explained.

"Why, Sary, that first night we were here last summer, you had 'cabbidge' soup, too!"

"We-all has to hev it once a week reg'ler now, 'cause Jeb loves it, an'

he is a foreman, you know." Sary's pride in her spouse's promotion was most evident.

While Polly and her mother cozily sat together on the porch and smiled happily to be in each other's company, once more, Eleanor walked to the barns with Mr. Brewster. She had an object in view, and she never delayed in finding out what she wanted to know, should the opportunity come and offer itself to her.

"Mr. Brewster, do tell me honestly-_did_ you send the roses, or do you know who did send them to Polly?"

"Nolla, Ah never heard of them until to-day. Ah'm as curious as you, to know who sent them. What were they like, anyway?"