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 The station was in plain sight and as they turned their heads in that direction, a very singular-looking passenger jumped from the train, satchel in hand, clearing the steps at a bound. He was clad in a hickory shirt, blue jean trousers and brogans. On his head was a broad-brimmed, soft felt hat. Apparently he stopped to question one of the station men for the latter pointed toward the mountain and he started up that way.

"Who on earth can he be!" said Cornelia, clapping her hands in excitement.

"He looks and walks like a cowboy," replied Hernando. "Come, let's go down. This time, at least, your presentiment seems a true one."

But for Hernando's restraining hand, she would have jumped from the rock on which they were sitting; by dint of engineering, however, he kept her within bounds until they reached the back yard, when she started for the house on a keen run. Rushing past Margaret, whose hands were uplifted in disgust, she burst into the dining-room with