NEW ARRIVALS IN THE PRAIRIE.

It was not often that mere travelers found their way along the construction trains on the railroad; but sometimes an individual, more enterprising than usual, would manage to get on board, and pass from settlement to settlement on his way to the Pacific. Still it was seldom that women or children were found traveling in this fashion; and when a little girl, with all the old-fashioned manners, and more than the sharpness of a woman, came into the settlement one night, avowedly on a trading speculation in second-hand clothes, it was the source of considerable excitement. This feeling was enhanced by the fact that the girl was accompanied by a little old man, who seemed to look up to her as his superior, and a lad of such exquisite beauty, that even the rudest workman turned to look upon him with admiration as he moved through the shanties standing on what would, some day, be a railroad station.

The boy carried a violin-case under his arm, and this also awoke the interest of the workmen, who saw a prospective dance before them, at which this boy might be the presiding musician.

Rhoda Weeks was very busy getting some huge trunks removed from among the rails and timbers, which made up the freight of that particular train, to a shanty of more than ordinary pretension, which had been pointed out to her as a place where food and lodging could be obtained.

"Now you just go and tell 'em to get us some supper, while I see to the things," said Rhoda, with the decision of a brigadier. "A slice of venison, or a plump broiled quail for Luke, remember, and some berries after. Have them done nicely, or he won't be able to touch them, poor dear! Now go along, father, and take good care of him, you know!"

Mr. Weeks obeyed her like a child, and followed Luke, who was walking languidly toward the shanty.

"No quails, not a bird, and he looking so tired?" cried Rhoda, spreading her little hands in consternation when she had discussed the ways and means with the owner of the shanty far enough to make sure that no delicacy could be had for her brother. "I tell you he is sick—can't you see it? His poor cheeks are redder than red to-night, and he can hardly sit up. Get him something nice, please do! Never mind about father and me, anything is good enough for us."

"I can get him a splendid whisky smash," said the man, so earnestly addressed.

Rhoda made a wry face and flung her hand out impatiently. That moment Weeks came up with eager desire in his face.

"I—I will take the smash," he said, rubbing his hands together. "It will do the boy more good in that way."

"Father!" whispered Rhoda, "I'm ashamed of you."

"Well, well, no matter, I can do without it," said the little man, retreating, almost with tears in his eyes; "but it's hard—it's mighty hard!" he muttered, sitting down disconsolately.

Rhoda placed herself on a wooden bench on which Luke was lying, and took his head in her lap.

"Are you hungry, dear?" she whispered.

"No, not much—only _so_ tired. Shall we never find them, Rhoda?"

"By-and-by—have a little patience, Luke."

"But it is so long—months and months."

"I know it, darling; but I think we are on the track now, and I'll keep it up, if we have to go clear to California."

"I shall never get there," whispered Luke, closing his eyes wearily. "Don't you see, Rhoda, how weak and good-for-nothing I am getting."

"Weak! Nonsense! Good-for-nothing!—how foolish! You are only tired and hungry. Oh! if I could only get you something——"

Here Rhoda broke off with an exclamation of delight, for that moment a young man entered the shanty with a bunch of birds in one hand and a gun in the other. She did not look at the man, but her eyes fastened greedily on the birds; and removing Luke's head from her lap, she got down from the bench and went up to the new-comer.

"Will you let me have one—just one? Oh, mercy! Father, father; Luke—why, it's him. It's Mr. Sterling himself. Oh! how glad I am; how—how——"

She paused here and struggled a little, for Sterling lifted her from the floor, in the midst of her exclamations, and kissed her tenderly.

"Dear me, you shouldn't do that; but, then, who cares? We've found you at last; but how you are tanned; how your beard has grown. Dear me, isn't this splendid? Luke! Luke! don't you see who it is?"

Luke did not move, something strange had come over the boy. He was shivering from head to foot, and closed the broad, white lids over his eyes as if to shut the young man from his sight. Something within him shrunk and recoiled from that handsome face.

"Luke! Luke! don't you see—don't you hear?" cried Rhoda, as Sterling set her on her feet again.

The boy arose to a sitting posture and made a sad effort to smile.

"I—I am not very well," he said, gently; "and that makes me feel strange; but I'm glad to see you, Mr. Sterling. Father will be glad, too."

"Father! father! sure enough—where is he?" said Rhoda, on the alert in an instant. She turned just in time to see the little man place an empty tumbler on the counter, which answered as a bar, and surreptitiously wipe his lips with the back of his hand.

"Oh, father! just because my back was turned!" she whispered, leading him forward. "Here he is, Mr. Sterling, looking splendid, isn't he? Tired out, and had to take a little of something, you know; always does when I insist on it—don't you, father?"

Weeks, in some confusion, held out his hand and shook that of Sterling three times in succession.

"Glad to see you, sir—seems like old times. My, how hearty you are looking. How do you think Luke is getting along?"

"He always was delicate," said Sterling, looking compassionately on the gentle boy. "I hope the air of the plains will do him good."

Luke smiled, and said he thought it was doing him good; then he turned a wistful glance on Rhoda, who crept toward him and bent her face to his.

"Ask him about them?" he whispered.

Rhoda nodded her head, and turned to Sterling.

"I was so taken aback that everything went out of my head. Where can we find Mrs. Holt?"

"She is here, Rhoda; you can see her house on the bend of the river by stepping this way."

Rhoda clapped her hands and ran to the door, looking toward the distant village with eager eyes.

"Oh! if I had but wings," she said.

"You need not pray for them, little Rhoda," answered Sterling. "I have a horse and wagon here; get in, and we will have our birds for supper."

"But Luke?"

"Of course, Luke will come also; your father, too. I have no idea how we shall manage for beds; but the neighbors are very kind."

"If you had just as lief, Rhoda, I will stay here," said Weeks, casting a furtive look toward the bar. "You and Luke will be enough for one house; besides, I must be here to take care of the goods."

"Perhaps that is the best arrangement," said Sterling, thinking of his mother, who was in no state to assume extra burdens.

"Well," said Rhoda, hesitating between her father and brother, "if one must be left behind, father is best."

Luke got up eagerly from the bench and put on his cap.

"It looks beautiful out yonder," he said." I am ready to go."

A strange inspiration seemed to have seized upon the lad. His eyes were like diamonds: his cheeks became vividly red; and no coral was ever brighter than the lips through which his breath panted hot and fast.