CHAPTER X.
"PAPA!"
Miss Travenion rises quite late on the morning after the Bussey fête, dresses hurriedly, and runs down-stairs into the dining-room of the Townsend House, to find that she is at lunch, not at breakfast. There she meets the rest of the Livingston party, who have arisen before her, and are discussing, in semi-excited tones, a piece of news Mr. Ferdie, who has been up and out, has just brought in to them.
"Do you know, Erma, that your gallant of last evening has come to grief?" remarks Oliver in placid triumph after the usual salutations have been exchanged.
"It is an infernal shame!" cries Mr. Chauncey. "They say Lawrence is ruined."
"Ruined! How?" asks the girl, growing pale in spite of herself.
"Why," answers Ferdie, "as near as I can make out, not claiming to be a mining expert, though I have seen enough ore specimens to make me a geologist, since I have been here—this Tranyon, who is a wily old Mormon speculator, and whose company only claims a part of Lawrence's mine, has just obtained an injunction to prevent him working any of it. Consequently, our friend will not be able to extract any more of his ore, and, running short of money, will hardly have the sinews of war for a prolonged legal fight, and Zion's Co-operative Mining Institution, which has plenty of shekels to hire legal talent and pack juries, will have a good deal the best chance. Anyway, that's the talk about town—I give it you as it comes to me."
"But this injunction can be dissolved," says Miss Travenion excitedly.
"Yes, if he puts up a big bond," suggests Livingston, triumphantly.
"Oh, that will not be difficult. Everybody is Captain Lawrence's friend," cries Erma, enthusiastically.