Rob.—
"Miss Maud Warlow, you're a bull-frog,
And I'd like to have a hook in your nose."
But, as his rhyme ended with such an ignominious fizzle, he hurried away with a snort of disgust. Clifford lingered a moment, hoping to hear more; but his parents rose soon after, and entered the house; so, in a thoughtful mood, he went about his farm duties.
Out in the wheat a quail called "Bob White," while down in the pasture a flock of prairie-chickens or grouse disturbed the twilight calm with their melancholy "ku-boom;" but, as the evening faded into night, the quiet of early slumber brooded over the Warlow household.
Chapter XII.
The week which followed brought sad tidings to the Warlow family. A black-bordered letter came, bearing the post-mark of San Francisco; but before it was opened the family knew its import.
Mrs. Warlow's only brother, William, had been in the mines for several years, but since his health had failed he had been making the great coast city his home; and, although grieved at the announcement of his death, they were not unprepared for the sad news.
The lawyer wrote that he held a few thousand dollars of the deceased's money, which was left by the will to Mrs. Warlow, and they were also informed that the "Redwood" mine was left to Robbie, who was a great favorite with his uncle; but this latter property was as yet unproductive, though the attorney conveyed an intimation that it might some day prove very valuable, as there were mines of fabulous richness near by.
Soon the rumor went flying through the colony that the Warlows had fallen heirs to an immense estate, and as usual the report lost nothing by traveling; so our friends soon found themselves invested by the halo of riches without any of its substantial benefits.