"Well, you must know, Mr. Brewster, that American Beauty roses like they were, cost a small fortune in New York, at that time of the year. Each one of those roses cost not less than five or six dollars. And the trinket that was bound to the stems was not a cheap thing, either. In fact, the chain was of fine, gold-plated links, and the arrows were gold-plated, too. It was an imported curio."

"By the Great Horned Spoon! Roses that cost like that! Why, they wilted, didn't they?" gasped Sam Brewster.

Eleanor laughed merrily. "Sure thing! But we kept them as long as possible. That is just where the joy comes in of getting costly roses-they wilt. And anyone, who will spend that much money on one, must think a heap of her first-see?"

Mr. Brewster stood stock-still. He caught at Eleanor's arm. "Ah've got it!"

"What-who?" Eleanor was breathless in her eagerness.

"Find the silly swain that's making eyes at my Polly, and you've caught the rascal who sent the roses."

Eleanor screamed with laughter. "Oh, you're funny! But isn't that exactly what everyone's been doing?"

"Oh-have they?"

"Sure! I learned that Mr. Fabian tried to find out who the fellow was.

And then Mr. Dalken wanted to know. The Latimers and Evans put Jim and Ken through the third degree, but no one confessed to it. Now do _you_ believe John sent them?"

"I do not!" was the positive reply.

"Neither do I! Because John sent Anne a bunch of roses for _her_ valentine but they were only seven dollars. She got a dozen, the usual short-stemmed Bride Roses. He wouldn't dare send his sister such gorgeous ones and only give his fiancee cheaper ones."

Sam Brewster smiled at his companion. "Nolla, you're a wise little owl."

"Anyone would be, after having had the social training that was fed to me from the bottle up!"

Mr. Brewster laughed at this, and Eleanor then said: "Guess I'll be going back, now, Mr. Brewster. I wanted to know your opinion about John and the roses."

"Wait, Nolla. Have you any answer to it yourself?"

"U-m, yes-I have a sort of a suspicion. But it isn't fair to anyone to even hint at it. So don't ask me."

"This much you might answer, however, seeing that Ah'm Polly's father and the most concerned in the beaux she has. Do you fancy it might have been your brother Pete?"

"_Pete!_" The very tone made Mr. Brewster smile as he saw that Eleanor had never thought of him. "Anyway, Pete and Poll hardly know each other."

"Ah wonder if it could have been Paul Stewart-he seemed dreadfully attentive to her that time when we-all were visiting you-all in New York." Mr. Brewster watched Eleanor shrewdly.

"I just guess it _wasn't_ Paul! He sent me a lovely card for a valentine; and while we were home in Chicago, I asked him about flowers.

He never thought to wire a florist about sending me any flowers, he said. So I know Paul hadn't anything to do with it."

"Ah! Well, Nolla, now we know who he was, eh?" laughed Sam Brewster, tweaking Eleanor's ear and hastening away to the barns.

Eleanor stood watching him. Then she laughed softly: "He sure did put one over on me, that time!"

As she walked slowly back to the ranch-house she soliloquized to herself. "That's just who it was. Gee! It's almost as fine as having a romance of my very own. But Polly doesn't want it so.

"All the same, when John and Tom come down here, I'm going to tease Tom about the wonderful roses Polly's brother sent her. Then we'll see what we'll see!"

Eleanor could keep her own counsel as well as Sam Brewster, but the two exchanged wise looks, now and then, when no one was watching. Still, never a word was said again on the rose subject.

A week after the two girls got home, the others in the party came down from Denver. Mrs. Stewart was to be Mrs. Brewster's guest that Summer, Eleanor was Polly's, and Anne said she was John's visitor. Then Tom Latimer laughed and said: "I'll have to be Mr. Brewster's pal."

"I can promise you that you won't have your head turned by any pretty school-girl, Tom, if you are _my_ guest," chuckled Sam Brewster.

Eleanor t.i.ttered, Tom flushed, but the others laughed at such a speech.

Plans had been made to take a three-day trip up over Top Notch Trail, and inspect the progress on the mine, but Mrs. Brewster and her guest would remain at home, by preference.

The merry cavalcade started out, Polly on her beloved Noddy as usual, and Eleanor on Choko. The others rode their horses, and Jeb led an extra horse with the packs.

There was no planned order in riding; first one girl would have one of the escort, and then another would ride up and "cut in" to urge the other onward. Thus everyone was laughing and teasing and talking merrily until they reached the falls on top of the mountains. Here, where Polly had caught the trout, the year before, they all had dinner.

"My goodness! Folks in New York never know what they miss by never coming to the Rockies," declared Polly, her eyes wandering to the far-off line of mountain-ranges.

"And folks who live near these mountains are never happy until they get to New York," remarked Mr. Brewster.

Polly laughed. "Oh, that is when one needs education. I have always had too _much_ mountain and not enough of other good things. But now that I am tasting a little of everything, I like my mountains as well as anything I've seen."

"D'ye think you-all will stay at home after this?" eagerly asked her father.

"Double no!" affirmed Polly, emphatically.

Everyone laughed at the expressive slang, and Polly added: "At least, not until I have seen Europe, year after next, and tried a hand in my profession. Maybe-if I fall in love, some day-I'll come back to Pebbly Pit to raise my family."

John Brewster thought this so funny that he ha-ha-haed loudly, but the others smiled doubtfully. Eleanor could not help sending a swift look at Tom Latimer to see how he received the information. But Tom was scrambling to his feet, so his face could not be observed. Eleanor glanced away from him to Sam Brewster, and saw the latter with a twinkle cornering his eyes as he noticed Tom's awkward movement.

"U-m!" muttered Eleanor. "I've got your number, Tom Latimer!" But no one overheard her whispered thought.

As the riders proceeded on their way, Paul Stewart said: "I don't see why you folks should think this such a tough trail. I consider it rather broad and good."

"Humph! It's a highway these days, what with all the riding up and down.

But last year you wouldn't have been able to see any thing but trees and rocks," Polly returned.

It was as Polly said: almost as clear a trail as any woodland road. At Four-Mile-Blaze where the girls were well-nigh lost on their first ride over the trail, there now was a good but narrow bridle-path. Thence it was easy going up the steep side to Grizzly Slide.

"W-ell! See the crowd of men working up there? And hear the sound of tools and machinery!" exclaimed Polly, as she rode out of the screening forest, and came to a man-made clearing.

"Of all things! Trees chopped down and turned into huts; an army of workmen living here as if they belonged," added Eleanor.

"We are blasting and clearing away the rubble that hides your mine. We had both ends working a few weeks ago, but now we are trying to drop a shaft from the top," said Mr. Brewster.

The visitors camped at the miners' settlement, that night, and the next day the girls were taken about to see the great progress made according to the plans to mine the ore.

A cable-road was being built from Choko's Cave down the steep mountain-side, to the valley, and this was to be used to carry the ore-cars up and down. As the girls stood on top of the ledge that overhung the cave, they could look straight down the awesome mountain-side, where the forest had been cleared for the cable-line.

"It looks as if it all cost a heap of money," said Polly.

She had been so engaged in looking at the change wrought in her beloved mountain, that she failed to see that the others had wandered away. But someone stood behind her. She felt it. As no reply came to her statement, she turned and found Tom Latimer waiting for her.