words and cannot make long speeches about love and all that kind of thing; but if you would accept me as your husband--"

"Stop! Mr. Meadows," said the young woman, springing to her feet, her face flaming and her eyes flashing. "Is this the other way at which you hinted?" "Yes," said Meadows, still letting the smile run over his face.

A look of loathing swept across the girl's face, as she moved towards the door. "Good day, Mr. Meadows," she said.

‘One moment, Miss Caskey," he said, still smiling, but with a queer look in his cruel gray eyes; "we had better understand each other. If you refuse this offer of mine, and in this kind of way, I presume you will be ready to meet the payment, interest and principal, on the mortgages that will fall due?

You can scarcely expect me to be very lenient after this. You had better think it over again.".

"Mr. Meadows," said the girl, "if you were the only man on the face of the earth I would not marry you! are not, I am happy to say."

But you

"Thank you," said the money-lender; "we understand one another now, I think." And he touched a little ivory knob at the side of his desk.

A shock-headed lad appeared with such alacrity as to give the girl the idea that he must have been listening at the keyhole.

44

'Oscar," said Mr. Meadows, "show this lady out; and, Oscar," he continued, "should Miss Caskey call again, remember: I am engaged."

The outer office was empty, the clerk having gone to his dinner, and as soon as the door was closed behind them, to Miss Caskey's intense astonishment, the lad said in a whisper, “I know you, Miss Caskey; you saved my mother's life last winter, when we were so very bad off, by sending her the doctor and that great basket of provisions, and all them nice, warm clothes for us children, when mother was so sick and we had no money. I like to know how things go on, and so I listened and heard all this morning. My eye!" he said, chuckling, “fancy old Mead

ows turning lover! I thought I should have burst when you gave it to him so straight just now. Never fear, Miss Caskey, things will come all right for you yet. But fancy old Meadows a lover!" and he fell to chuckling again.

And the last thing Miss Caskey saw as she turned into Second Street was the figure of the boy Oscar standing at the door, one thumb pointing backwards over his shoulder to the room behind him, and one hand pressed across his face to keep in the laughter and merriment that threatened to overpower him.

The large tract of land called "the Walnut Farm," owned by Emily Caskey, was situated a short way out of the town, and was about three hundred acres in extent. A pleasant, commodious house, large gardens and flowers of many choice varieties, a paddock at the side, and fields extending back to a large creek running through the property to the great Kanawha River, the property had been in the family for more than a century, and every inch of it was dear beyond price to Emily and her mother.

The Hon. William Caskey, Emily's father, was one of those easy-going Virginia gentlemen who seem to take life as if it were almost a farce instead of a serious thing, and passed most of his time dreaming of things to be accomplished some time in the future, instead of making the most of the present, and thereby letting a fine business left him by his father gradually slide away from him for want of attention, and which was taken advantage of by Joel Meadows, and in an evil hour was persuaded to listen to the voice of the tempter in the shape of Mr. Joel Meadows, money-lender, and allow him as a special favor to advance him money from time to time, until the amount had reached three thousand dollars, covered and secured by mortgages at six per cent interest. It had always been understood the principal would not be called for so long as the interest was promptly paid. Then he awoke when too late to see his folly and attempted to retrieve his shattered fortune, and after a year or two of fruitless struggle, he sank under the physical and mental

pressure and was found dead in his office chair, leaving his wife and only child to face the world alone.

After the first shock was over, Emily rose bravely to face her difficulty. She had received a thoroughly practical education at Vassar College. She was highly accomplished in music and spoke French, German and Italian fluently. She soon succeeded in finding enough pupils for music, painting and French, to fully occupy all her time that she could spare from personal attendance on her invalid mother, thereby keeping them in comfortable if not luxurious circumstances, and pay the interest on the mortgages on the property as it became due, never dreaming that Joel Meadows would take advantage and press for the money.

So it was with feelings of consternation and hot anger, that, with flushed and beating heart, she passed along the avenue and out into the country road beyond, scarcely lifting her eyes as she walked slowly towards home to break to her mother the unpleasant news.

So engrossed was Emily with her own thoughts that she had not observed that a young man had been walking a few yards in the rear for some time, with a half-amused, half-puzzled expression on his handsome face.

As, however, she left the avenue and turned into the suburban road, he stepped forward and touched her lightly on the shoulder, saying in a laughing tone, "Why, whatever is the matter, Emily? I have been walking close beside you for 10 minutes and you have never seen me."

Emily looked up with a surprised start, and a crimson flush flooded her beautiful face. "Oh, Tim!" she said; "I did not see you before or anything, but I am so glad you are here."

Timothy Chalmers Hogan was as fine a specimen of a manly man as you would meet in a day's walk, and had good Irish blood in his veins. His father, Colonel Tim Hogan, of the Fusilliers, was known as a brave and distinguished officer, who had served in India and lost a leg at Kurdistan, and was retired on a full pension. His mother was the daughter of "Sir" Wilford Chalmers,

Brt. He had graduated from Barry College, near Dublin, and came to America with an uncle to carve out a career for himself. He had learned civil and military engineering, and decided to adopt railroading as a profession. His keen mind foresaw that with the rapid development of railroads, through the coal and oil regions of Kentucky and West Virginia, there would come opportunities for all his talents. He first served with the surveyors of the main line of Chesapeake and Ohio and Norfolk and Western railways. He was made conductor of the working train, and on the opening of regular traffic, was given the first passenger run, and is now considered the most popular conductor on the system, and is sure to be called to a much more responsible position in the near future.

Tim took one look at the troubled face of Emily, and then drew her hand to his strong arm and said, "Emily, dear, tell me what is troubling you."

The girl gave him one glance from her lovely eyes, and then in a low voice related her experience of the morning.

"Do you mean to tell me, Emily," said her lover, when she paused, “that old Meadows had the impertinence to talk to you like that? I'll go around to his office directly I go back and give him the best shaking up he has had for many a day."

"No, no," said the girl, clasping her two little white hands over his arm, "you must not do that, Tim, dear; he has us in his power and it will only make the matter worse."

"I don't know," said Tim, looking at the beseeching face at his side; it would do him a world of good, but if you say I must not, I suppose I must obey." The girl gave him another swift, loving glance and they walked on for a few minutes in silence. Then the girl said, "I do not know how to tell poor mother this, Tim; it will break her heart to leave the old place." "She shall not leave it if I can help it," said Tim, knitting his brows; "I would pawn myself and all my belongings if they would fetch anything, rather than she should leave; but all my wordly possessions with the few hundreds I have

in the bank would not be sufficient to satisfy old Meadows."

"I don't see any way at all," said Emily with tears in her eyes.

"Emily," said the young man, bending low toward her, "when things are at the worst, and we are at our wits' end, Providence often interposes. My good

old mother used to say to me, 'Tim, my boy, remember when things go wrong, put your trust in God and the blessed saints and you'll come out all right.' Let us trust in God, Emily." The girl opened her lips to answer, when a shout behind them arrested their attention, and on looking around they espied a tall lad running full speed towards them, his heavy shoes kicking up a cloud of dust in the road.

"Why, it's Oscar Bruce," said Emily; "I never saw him running before. Something must be the matter I should think. I wonder what it can be?"

The lad paused suddenly when he reached the pair, out of breath with his exertions, and it was a minute or two before he could speak.

"Miss Caskey," he panted out at last, "directly you went out of our office, that sneaking lawyer, Skinner, came in, and I heard them talking about your place and the money old Meadows had lent upon it. I've been learning shorthand at the night school since you helped mother and me so I could go, and I just listened and took down what they said, and I thought if they are up to any game to injure Miss Emily, the notes might be of use to you." Old Meadows gave me a week's notice for being cheeky, and I shall get even with him yet; and as for that old sneak, Lawyer Skinner, I hate him like pizen."

"I can't read shorthand, Oscar," said Emily; "besides I don't think it's quite right.'

"Let me look at this paper," said her lover, taking the dirty piece of paper from her hand and running his eye over it. He was amused at first with the queer characters that Oscar called shorthand, and it puzzled him to read them; but as he went on, the dawn of a something, Emily could scarcely understand, began to appear upon Tim's face. When

he had finished he folded up the paper and put it carefully into his pocketbook. “Oscar," he said, slapping the boy in a friendly way on the back, "don't say a word about this to anyone, and it will be the best day's work you ever did, I think." The lad nodded, pocketed a silver dollar Tim had slyly slipped in his hand, and turning round moved off back to the office at full speed.

"Come, Emily, let me take you home," said Tim; "but don't say anything about this to your mother yet."

"But what is it, Tim?" said Emily in a wondering tone.

"Wait, dear," said her lover; "wait and hope and trust." I am going to get a lay-off for a few days to look into this matter. I believe I see a way out of all this trouble. You remain quiet for a day or two, till I come to see you again."

By this time they had reached the gate of her home. Tim kissed her fondly and then hurried away, leaving Emily in a state of excitement and wonder beyond expression.

Tim Chalmers Hogan, conductor, stood in his private room, reading again the scrap of paper that the boy Oscar had given to Miss Emily Caskey. He seemed to find much to interest him in Oscar's shorthand notes, for he read and re-read them again, and then suddenly, as if impressed by a thought, he put on his hat again and passed out to the business quarter of the city, and soon knocked at the door of one of the principal lawyers of Parkersburg who was a personal friend of his.

“Well, Tim," said Mr. T. J. Carmack, the great railroad cousellor of several roads, as the clerk ushered him in, "what is wrong?"

"A good deal," said Tim Hogan, as he shook hands with his friend; and without any more delay he related the story of Mr. Meadows and Miss Emily Caskey and the money-lenders' threat to foreclose on the mortgages. The lawyer listened attentively until Tim had finished. "Mr. Meadows is a deep one," said he, when he had heard the whole story. "You'll have to get up before daybreak to be before him in most

things; but I confess I can't see the reason of his wishing to get this property into his sole possession at this particular time. The interest he is obtaining on the money is quite as much as can be made in any other way, and as to his wanting ready money, that is a myth. I happen to know that he has now lying at the bank quite $20,000. Of course, his offering to marry Miss Caskey is all in the same line. You see, he would hardly have the property then, so there must be something at the back of it all. Can not you get somebody to lend you the money?"

Tim Hogan shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he said; "but will you look at this." And Tim produced the paper of Oscar's shorthand from his pocket. Lawyer McCormick took it gingerly with the tips of his fingers.

"Not an altogether clean correspondent," he said, as he read the first few lines, "between Meadows and that Lawyer Skinner, who was struck off the rolls as a practicing attorney a few years ago; and it is written in a villainous shorthand."

But the lawyer seemed to find it very absorbing as he read on, in spite of its characters, for when he laid it down he said:

"This is interesting, Tim; I think I can see the motive now; it's a deep thing, though. But do you think this is true?"

"The boy Oscar took it down as he heard it, I know," said Tim.

"The best thing you can do," said the lawyer, "is to go over there and see for yourself; but don't let anyone know, if you wish to get the better of Meadows. I would do it at once if possible."

"Thanks," said Tim, rising; "I'll go tonight. There will be plenty of light by the moon for my purpose.'

The moon was partly hidden behind a bank of clouds when Tim Hogan turned in at the gate of the "Walnut Farm," and skirting the shrubbery which led to the garden, he took his way along a path that led to the paddock of meadowland that lay back of the mansion.

Making as little noise as possible, and feeling more like a burglar or chickenthief than anything else, he took a spade

and pick from the tool house and climbed over the fence that separated the garden from the fields beyond.

At the further side of the fields ran a large creek along the foothills, its banks skirted here and there with willow trees and covered with moss and grass and early flowers.

Arriving at a point that looked to his practiced eye like a favorable spot to begin his labors, he took off his coat and began his work, and before long succeeded in opening a fair-sized hole. Then he paused and struck a wax vesta and examined the earth he had excavated. But it did not seem to answer his expectations; so he went a few yards further down and tried again. Unused as he was to laborious work of this kind, he soon became hot and tired; but he persisted in his self-imposed task. But for a long time no success seemed to attend his efforts, and his arms grew weary and his heart sank within him, as the hope that buoyed him up began to fade into something like despair.

The moon began to wane, and he was on the point of giving up, when his pick struck against a hard, black mass only partly visible in the faint moonlight. He dropped his pick, took up the spade, and threw back the dark clay soil, uncovering about two feet square of this hard substance, and then rested a few moments, all of a tremble with eager expectation and hope. He threw down his spade, and, with feverish haste, struck another of his matches, hollowing his hand to keep it alight; then he stooped and picking up what appeared at first to be a dark stone which he had seen fall, looked at it for some seconds; then he applied the flame of the wax taper to a thin portion of this substance, and saw it blaze and burn like a candle. Then he knew for a certainty what he had found. Then he dropped the burnt-out taper and match, and baring his head, lifted his eyes upwards to the silent heavens, and said in a low reverent voice: "Cannel Coal. Thank God." And after carefully filling in the holes he had made in the bank, he wrapped up the pieces he had selected and went home, with a quick and buoyant step.

It was the evening of the following day, and Emily Caskey, tired and nervous with the day's teaching, was trying to steady her thoughts with a book. Her pupils had seemed to be more than usually troublesome that day, and the thought of her sorrow and possible loss of her dear home, seemed at times almost to overwhelm her. What it would mean to her mother, who scarcely ever left her room, was more than Emily dared to contemplate. So she sat in the twilight, thinking until she could bear it no longer, and let her trouble have vent in a flow of tears and sobbed as if her heart would burst; so that she did not hear a light knock and then a quiet turning of the door knob. But being roused by a slight noise, she looked suddenly up to find her handsome lover standing before her, his face beaming with smiles and his eyes fairly dancing with joy.

"Why, Tim," she said, with a little catch in her breath, "I did not hear you come in."

What is the matter, dear?" he said, taking both her hands in his own.

"Nothing," she said, turning away her crimson face, "at least nothing that can be helped."

Tim's answer was to draw her flushed, wet face to his own and kiss it fondly.

"Don't, Tim," she said, diseng..ging herself from his arms; "my heart is nearly breaking when I think of mother and the trouble before us."

Her lover did not answer, but from the large pocket of his overcoat took out something heavy, carefully wrapped in paper. "Open that, Emily," he said.

The girl did as she was requested, with some wonder, thinking perhaps it was some small present, and laid its contents under the light of the lamp. She looked at her companion, and again the tears welled up into her lovely eyes. "I don't think it is time for jokes, Tim," she said, “if it is a joke you intend by this.”

"I never was farther from one, dearest," said this handsome conductor, seriously. "Will you tell me what that is before you?"

"It is a foolish question," said the girl, half in anger; "it is a piece of common coal, of course."

"Sit down, Emily," said Tim, as he led her to a chair, taking his seat beside her. Let me explain That piece of coal, dear, I dug in a burglarious manner from the bank beside the creek running through your meadowland last night, and it means that under your property there runs a deep vein of hundreds and thousands of tons of the same. I took it to an expert in these matters this morning and he pronounced it to be cannel coal of a most excellent quality; and said this class of coal is scarcely ever found in less quantities than fourteen feet thick veins. It will mean a very large fortune for you Emily, and you need have no further fears about the mortgages. Directly this is known, there will be a dozen men glad to lend you any amount of money you want on your land. In fact, my friend, Lawyer Carmack, counsellor and attorney for the new line of the Coal River Railroad, to be built from St. Albans on the Great Kanawha River to connect with a branch of Chesapeake and Ohio, and the Norfolk and Western R. R.'s, informed me that the survey crosses your land, follows the creek to the junction. This good friend of mine showed me a map of the railroad, and owing to the natural advantages of situation, living water, and fine quality of building stone in the hills, and now this discovery of an inexhaustible bed of the best coal in the state, the railroad company would be willing to advance you $50,000 for their right of way and land for a depot, machine shops and sidings, and run a siding to your coal mine. I have made a promise to my friend to use my influence with you that you give his company the preference in the purchase of all the land you are willing to dispose of."

The girl sat for a moment or two, scarcely able to realize the new aspect of things.

"But what gave you an idea that there was coal here, Tim?" she asked.

"Why, that scrawl of young Oscar Bruce's which he gave you yesterday," said Conductor Tim Hogan. "How in the world old money-lender Meadows and that sneak of a pettifogger Skinner got hold of the idea, I can't imagine, but