"Did Mr. Sprague select your clothes, Philip?" asked Mark. "If so, I can't compliment him on his taste."

 

"They are some old clothes of Oscar's," answered Philip. "They are the best I could get."

 

"We'll see if San Francisco can't furnish you with something better."

 

At a clothing store on Market Street, Mark bought a complete outfit¹ for Philip. The latter was much pleased when he saw his transformation² in a pier³ glass in the store.

 

"Now I shall have nothing to remind me of Mr. Sprague," he said. "Do you want me to take the old clothes with me?"

 

"No; we will leave them here."

 

They stopped at the Russ House. Just after supper Mark met an old acquaintance, the bronzed miner whom he had seen in Omaha. The latter walked up eagerly and grasped Mark's hand.

 

"It does me good to see you again, young pard," he said. "And is this the kid?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Well, upon my word he looks like a little gentleman."

 

"He has improved in appearance since I made his acquaintance in Gulchville," said Mark with a smile. "I have just bought him a new outfit."

 

"So, so! Well, fine feathers make fine birds. Well, my boy, does Mark make you call him father?"

 

Philip laughed heartily⁴ at the idea.

 

"Why, he's only a boy!" he rejoined.

 

"Philip," said Mark with a warning finger, "you must treat me with proper respect."

 

"Shall I call you father?"

 

"No; perhaps it will be more suitable to call me brother Mark. Did you stop over in Nevada, Mr. Dempsey?"

 

"Yes; I went to the mine."

 

"What did you learn?"

 

"That a New York syndicate is trying to purchase the mine, and this has carried up the price of stock to two hundred and fifty dollars."

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