A Protegee of Jack Hamlin's, and Other Stories

by Bret Harte

  AN INGENUE OF THE SIERRAS.

  I.

  We all held our breath as the coach rushed through the semi-darkness ofGalloper's Ridge. The vehicle itself was only a huge lumbering shadow;its side-lights were carefully extinguished, and Yuba Bill had justpolitely removed from the lips of an outside passenger even the cigarwith which he had been ostentatiously exhibiting his coolness. For ithad been rumored that the Ramon Martinez gang of "road agents" were"laying" for us on the second grade, and would time the passage of ourlights across Galloper's in order to intercept us in the "brush" beyond.If we could cross the ridge without being seen, and so get through thebrush before they reached it, we were safe. If they followed, it wouldonly be a stern chase with the odds in our favor.

  The huge vehicle swayed from side to side, rolled, dipped, andplunged, but Bill kept the track, as if, in the whispered words of theExpressman, he could "feel and smell" the road he could no longer see.We knew that at times we hung perilously over the edge of slopes thateventually dropped a thousand feet sheer to the tops of the sugar-pinesbelow, but we knew that Bill knew it also. The half visible heads of thehorses, drawn wedge-wise together by the tightened reins, appeared tocleave the darkness like a ploughshare, held between his rigidhands. Even the hoof-beats of the six horses had fallen into a vague,monotonous, distant roll. Then the ridge was crossed, and we plungedinto the still blacker obscurity of the brush. Rather we no longerseemed to move--it was only the phantom night that rushed by us. Thehorses might have been submerged in some swift Lethean stream; nothingbut the top of the coach and the rigid bulk of Yuba Bill arose abovethem. Yet even in that awful moment our speed was unslackened; it wasas if Bill cared no longer to GUIDE but only to drive, or as if thedirection of his huge machine was determined by other hands than his. Anincautious whisperer hazarded the paralyzing suggestion of our "meetinganother team." To our great astonishment Bill overheard it; to ourgreater astonishment he replied. "It 'ud be only a neck and neckrace which would get to h-ll first," he said quietly. But we wererelieved--for he had SPOKEN! Almost simultaneously the wider turnpikebegan to glimmer faintly as a visible track before us; the wayside treesfell out of line, opened up, and dropped off one after another; we wereon the broader table-land, out of danger, and apparently unperceived andunpursued.

  Nevertheless in the conversation that broke out again with therelighting of the lamps, and the comments, congratulations, andreminiscences that were freely exchanged, Yuba Bill preserved adissatisfied and even resentful silence. The most generous praise ofhis skill and courage awoke no response. "I reckon the old man waz justspilin' for a fight, and is feelin' disappointed," said a passenger.But those who knew that Bill had the true fighter's scorn for any purelypurposeless conflict were more or less concerned and watchful of him. Hewould drive steadily for four or five minutes with thoughtfully knittedbrows, but eyes still keenly observant under his slouched hat, andthen, relaxing his strained attitude, would give way to a movement ofimpatience. "You ain't uneasy about anything, Bill, are you?" askedthe Expressman confidentially. Bill lifted his eyes with a slightlycontemptuous surprise. "Not about anything ter COME. It's what HEZhappened that I don't exackly sabe. I don't see no signs of Ramon's gangever havin' been out at all, and ef they were out I don't see why theydidn't go for us."

  "The simple fact is that our ruse was successful," said an outsidepassenger. "They waited to see our lights on the ridge, and, not seeingthem, missed us until we had passed. That's my opinion."

  "You ain't puttin' any price on that opinion, air ye?" inquired Billpolitely.

  "No."

  "'Cos thar's a comic paper in 'Frisco pays for them things, and I'veseen worse things in it."

  "Come off, Bill," retorted the passenger, slightly nettled by thetittering of his companions. "Then what did you put out the lights for?"

  "Well," returned Bill grimly, "it mout have been because I didn't keerto hev you chaps blazin' away at the first bush you THOUGHT you saw movein your skeer, and bringin' down their fire on us."

  The explanation, though unsatisfactory, was by no means an improbableone, and we thought it better to accept it with a laugh. Bill, however,resumed his abstracted manner.

  "Who got in at the Summit?" he at last asked abruptly of the Expressman.

  "Derrick and Simpson of Cold Spring, and one of the 'Excelsior' boys,"responded the Expressman.

  "And that Pike County girl from Dow's Flat, with her bundles. Don'tforget her," added the outside passenger ironically.

  "Does anybody here know her?" continued Bill, ignoring the irony.

  "You'd better ask Judge Thompson; he was mighty attentive to her;gettin' her a seat by the off window, and lookin' after her bundles andthings."

  "Gettin' her a seat by the WINDOW?" repeated Bill.

  "Yes, she wanted to see everything, and wasn't afraid of the shooting."

  "Yes," broke in a third passenger, "and he was so d----d civil thatwhen she dropped her ring in the straw, he struck a match agin all yourrules, you know, and held it for her to find it. And it was just as wewere crossin' through the brush, too. I saw the hull thing through thewindow, for I was hanging over the wheels with my gun ready for action.And it wasn't no fault of Judge Thompson's if his d----d foolishnesshadn't shown us up, and got us a shot from the gang."

  Bill gave a short grunt, but drove steadily on without further commentor even turning his eyes to the speaker.

  We were now not more than a mile from the station at the crossroadswhere we were to change horses. The lights already glimmered in thedistance, and there was a faint suggestion of the coming dawn on thesummits of the ridge to the west. We had plunged into a belt of timber,when suddenly a horseman emerged at a sharp canter from a trail thatseemed to be parallel with our own. We were all slightly startled; YubaBill alone preserving his moody calm.

  "Hullo!" he said.

  The stranger wheeled to our side as Bill slackened his speed. He seemedto be a "packer" or freight muleteer.

  "Ye didn't get 'held up' on the Divide?" continued Bill cheerfully.

  "No," returned the packer, with a laugh; "I don't carry treasure. But Isee you're all right, too. I saw you crossin' over Galloper's."

  "SAW us?" said Bill sharply. "We had our lights out."

  "Yes, but there was suthin' white--a handkerchief or woman's veil, Ireckon--hangin' from the window. It was only a movin' spot agin thehillside, but ez I was lookin' out for ye I knew it was you by that.Good-night!"

  He cantered away. We tried to look at each other's faces, and at Bill'sexpression in the darkness, but he neither spoke nor stirred until hethrew down the reins when we stopped before the station. The passengersquickly descended from the roof; the Expressman was about to follow, butBill plucked his sleeve.

  "I'm goin' to take a look over this yer stage and these yer passengerswith ye, afore we start."

  "Why, what's up?"

  "Well," said Bill, slowly disengaging himself from one of his enormousgloves, "when we waltzed down into the brush up there I saw a man, ezplain ez I see you, rise up from it. I thought our time had come and theband was goin' to play, when he sorter drew back, made a sign, and wejust scooted past him."

  "Well?"

  "Well," said Bill, "it means that this yer coach was PASSED THROUGH FREEto-night."

  "You don't object to THAT--surely? I think we were deucedly lucky."

  Bill slowly drew off his other glove. "I've been riskin' my everlastin'life on this d----d line three times a week," he said with mockhumility, "and I'm allus thankful for small mercies. BUT," he addedgrimly, "when it comes down to being passed free by some pal of a hossthief, and thet called a speshal Providence, I AIN'T IN IT! No, sir, Iain't in it!"

  II.

  It was with mixed emotions that the passengers heard that a delay offifteen minutes to tighten certain screw-bolts had been ordered by theautocratic Bill. Some were anxious to get their breakfast at Sugar Pine,but others were not averse to linger for the daylight that promisedgreater safety on the
road. The Expressman, knowing the real cause ofBill's delay, was nevertheless at a loss to understand the object of it.The passengers were all well known; any idea of complicity with the roadagents was wild and impossible, and, even if there was a confederateof the gang among them, he would have been more likely to precipitate arobbery than to check it. Again, the discovery of such a confederate--towhom they clearly owed their safety--and his arrest would have beenquite against the Californian sense of justice, if not actually illegal.It seemed evident that Bill's quixotic sense of honor was leading himastray.

  The station consisted of a stable, a wagon shed, and a buildingcontaining three rooms. The first was fitted up with "bunks" or sleepingberths for the employees; the second was the kitchen; and the thirdand larger apartment was dining-room or sitting-room, and was usedas general waiting-room for the passengers. It was not a refreshmentstation, and there was no "bar." But a mysterious command from theomnipotent Bill produced a demijohn of whiskey, with which he hospitablytreated the company. The seductive influence of the liquor loosened thetongue of the gallant Judge Thompson. He admitted to having struck amatch to enable the fair Pike Countian to find her ring, which, however,proved to have fallen in her lap. She was "a fine, healthy youngwoman--a type of the Far West, sir; in fact, quite a prairie blossom!yet simple and guileless as a child." She was on her way to Marysville,he believed, "although she expected to meet friends--a friend, infact--later on." It was her first visit to a large town--in fact, anycivilized centre--since she crossed the plains three years ago. Hergirlish curiosity was quite touching, and her innocence irresistible.In fact, in a country whose tendency was to produce "frivolity andforwardness in young girls, he found her a most interesting youngperson." She was even then out in the stable-yard watching the horsesbeing harnessed, "preferring to indulge a pardonable healthy youngcuriosity than to listen to the empty compliments of the youngerpassengers."

  The figure which Bill saw thus engaged, without being otherwisedistinguished, certainly seemed to justify the Judge's opinion. Sheappeared to be a well-matured country girl, whose frank gray eyes andlarge laughing mouth expressed a wholesome and abiding gratification inher life and surroundings. She was watching the replacing of luggage inthe boot. A little feminine start, as one of her own parcels was thrownsomewhat roughly on the roof, gave Bill his opportunity. "Now there," hegrowled to the helper, "ye ain't carting stone! Look out, will yer! Someof your things, miss?" he added, with gruff courtesy, turning to her."These yer trunks, for instance?"

  She smiled a pleasant assent, and Bill, pushing aside the helper, seizeda large square trunk in his arms. But from excess of zeal, or some othermischance, his foot slipped, and he came down heavily, strikingthe corner of the trunk on the ground and loosening its hinges andfastenings. It was a cheap, common-looking affair, but the accidentdiscovered in its yawning lid a quantity of white, lace-edged feminineapparel of an apparently superior quality. The young lady utteredanother cry and came quickly forward, but Bill was profuse in hisapologies, himself girded the broken box with a strap, and declared hisintention of having the company "make it good" to her with a new one.Then he casually accompanied her to the door of the waiting-room,entered, made a place for her before the fire by simply lifting thenearest and most youthful passenger by the coat collar from the stoolthat he was occupying, and, having installed the lady in it, displacedanother man who was standing before the chimney, and, drawing himselfup to his full six feet of height in front of her, glanced down upon hisfair passenger as he took his waybill from his pocket.

  "Your name is down here as Miss Mullins?" he said.

  She looked up, became suddenly aware that she and her questioner werethe centre of interest to the whole circle of passengers, and, with aslight rise of color, returned, "Yes."

  "Well, Miss Mullins, I've got a question or two to ask ye. I ask itstraight out afore this crowd. It's in my rights to take ye aside andask it---but that ain't my style; I'm no detective. I needn't ask it atall, but act as ef I knowed the answer, or I might leave it to be askedby others. Ye needn't answer it ef ye don't like; ye've got a friendover ther--Judge Thompson--who is a friend to ye, right or wrong, jestas any other man here is--as though ye'd packed your own jury. Well, thesimple question I've got to ask ye is THIS: Did you signal to anybodyfrom the coach when we passed Galloper's an hour ago?"

  We all thought that Bill's courage and audacity had reached itsclimax here. To openly and publicly accuse a "lady" before a groupof chivalrous Californians, and that lady possessing the furtherattractions of youth, good looks, and innocence, was little short ofdesperation. There was an evident movement of adhesion towards thefair stranger, a slight muttering broke out on the right, but the veryboldness of the act held them in stupefied surprise. Judge Thompson,with a bland propitiatory smile began: "Really, Bill, I must protest onbehalf of this young lady"--when the fair accused, raising her eyes toher accuser, to the consternation of everybody answered with the slightbut convincing hesitation of conscientious truthfulness:--

  "I DID."

  "Ahem!" interposed the Judge hastily, "er--that is--er--you allowedyour handkerchief to flutter from the window,--I noticed itmyself,--casually--one might say even playfully--but without anyparticular significance."

  The girl, regarding her apologist with a singular mingling of pride andimpatience, returned briefly:--

  "I signaled."

  "Who did you signal to?" asked Bill gravely.

  "The young gentleman I'm going to marry."

  A start, followed by a slight titter from the younger passengers, wasinstantly suppressed by a savage glance from Bill.

  "What did you signal to him for?" he continued.

  "To tell him I was here, and that it was all right," returned the younggirl, with a steadily rising pride and color.

  "Wot was all right?" demanded Bill.

  "That I wasn't followed, and that he could meet me on the road beyondCass's Ridge Station." She hesitated a moment, and then, with a stillgreater pride, in which a youthful defiance was still mingled, said:

  "I've run away from home to marry him. And I mean to! No one can stopme. Dad didn't like him just because he was poor, and dad's got money.Dad wanted me to marry a man I hate, and got a lot of dresses and thingsto bribe me."

  "And you're taking them in your trunk to the other feller?" said Billgrimly.

  "Yes, he's poor," returned the girl defiantly.

  "Then your father's name is Mullins?" asked Bill.

  "It's not Mullins. I--I--took that name," she hesitated, with her firstexhibition of self-consciousness.

  "Wot IS his name?"

  "Eli Hemmings."

  A smile of relief and significance went round the circle. The fame ofEli or "Skinner" Hemmings, as a notorious miser and usurer, had passedeven beyond Galloper's Ridge.

  "The step that you're taking, Miss Mullins, I need not tell you, isone of great gravity," said Judge Thompson, with a certain paternalseriousness of manner, in which, however, we were glad to detect aglaring affectation; "and I trust that you and your affianced have fullyweighed it. Far be it from me to interfere with or question the naturalaffections of two young people, but may I ask you what you know ofthe--er--young gentleman for whom you are sacrificing so much, and,perhaps, imperiling your whole future? For instance, have you known himlong?"

  The slightly troubled air of trying to understand,--not unlike thevague wonderment of childhood,--with which Miss Mullins had received thebeginning of this exordium, changed to a relieved smile of comprehensionas she said quickly, "Oh yes, nearly a whole year."

  "And," said the Judge, smiling, "has he a vocation--is he in business?"

  "Oh yes," she returned; "he's a collector."

  "A collector?"

  "Yes; he collects bills, you know,--money," she went on, with childisheagerness, "not for himself,--HE never has any money, poor Charley,--butfor his firm. It's dreadful hard work, too; keeps him out for days andnights, over bad roads and baddest weather. Sometimes, when he's s
toleover to the ranch just to see me, he's been so bad he could scarcelykeep his seat in the saddle, much less stand. And he's got to takemighty big risks, too. Times the folks are cross with him and won't pay;once they shot him in the arm, and he came to me, and I helped do itup for him. But he don't mind. He's real brave,--jest as brave as he'sgood." There was such a wholesome ring of truth in this pretty praisethat we were touched in sympathy with the speaker.

  "What firm does he collect for?" asked the Judge gently.

  "I don't know exactly--he won't tell me; but I think it's a Spanishfirm. You see"--she took us all into her confidence with a sweepingsmile of innocent yet half-mischievous artfulness--"I only know becauseI peeped over a letter he once got from his firm, telling him he musthustle up and be ready for the road the next day; but I think the namewas Martinez--yes, Ramon Martinez."

  In the dead silence that ensued--a silence so profound that we couldhear the horses in the distant stable-yard rattling their harness--oneof the younger "Excelsior" boys burst into a hysteric laugh, but thefierce eye of Yuba Bill was down upon him, and seemed to instantlystiffen him into a silent, grinning mask. The young girl, however,took no note of it. Following out, with lover-like diffusiveness, thereminiscences thus awakened, she went on:--

  "Yes, it's mighty hard work, but he says it's all for me, and as soon aswe're married he'll quit it. He might have quit it before, but he won'ttake no money of me, nor what I told him I could get out of dad! Thatain't his style. He's mighty proud--if he is poor--is Charley. Whythar's all ma's money which she left me in the Savin's Bank that Iwanted to draw out--for I had the right--and give it to him, but hewouldn't hear of it! Why, he wouldn't take one of the things I've gotwith me, if he knew it. And so he goes on ridin' and ridin', here andthere and everywhere, and gettin' more and more played out and sad, andthin and pale as a spirit, and always so uneasy about his business, andstartin' up at times when we're meetin' out in the South Woods or in thefar clearin', and sayin': 'I must be goin' now, Polly,' and yet alwaystryin' to be chiffle and chipper afore me. Why he must have rid milesand miles to have watched for me thar in the brush at the foot ofGalloper's to-night, jest to see if all was safe; and Lordy! I'd havegiven him the signal and showed a light if I'd died for it the nextminit. There! That's what I know of Charley--that's what I'm runningaway from home for--that's what I'm running to him for, and I don'tcare who knows it! And I only wish I'd done it afore--and Iwould--if--if--if--he'd only ASKED ME! There now!" She stopped, panted,and choked. Then one of the sudden transitions of youthful emotionovertook the eager, laughing face; it clouded up with the swift changeof childhood, a lightning quiver of expression broke over it, and--thencame the rain!

  I think this simple act completed our utter demoralization! We smiledfeebly at each other with that assumption of masculine superioritywhich is miserably conscious of its own helplessness at such moments. Welooked out of the window, blew our noses, said: "Eh--what?" and "I say,"vaguely to each other, and were greatly relieved, and yet apparentlyastonished, when Yuba Bill, who had turned his back upon the fairspeaker, and was kicking the logs in the fireplace, suddenly swept downupon us and bundled us all into the road, leaving Miss Mullins alone.Then he walked aside with Judge Thompson for a few moments; returned tous, autocratically demanded of the party a complete reticence towardsMiss Mullins on the subject-matter under discussion, re-entered thestation, reappeared with the young lady, suppressed a faint idioticcheer which broke from us at the spectacle of her innocent face oncemore cleared and rosy, climbed the box, and in another moment we wereunder way.

  "Then she don't know what her lover is yet?" asked the Expressmaneagerly.

  "No."

  "Are YOU certain it's one of the gang?"

  "Can't say FOR SURE. It mout be a young chap from Yolo who bucked aginthe tiger* at Sacramento, got regularly cleaned out and busted, andjoined the gang for a flier. They say thar was a new hand in that jobover at Keeley's,--and a mighty game one, too; and ez there was somebuckshot onloaded that trip, he might hev got his share, and that wouldtally with what the girl said about his arm. See! Ef that's the man,I've heered he was the son of some big preacher in the States, and acollege sharp to boot, who ran wild in 'Frisco, and played himself forall he was worth. They're the wust kind to kick when they once geta foot over the traces. For stiddy, comf'ble kempany," added Billreflectively, "give ME the son of a man that was HANGED!"

  * Gambled at faro.

  "But what are you going to do about this?"

  "That depends upon the feller who comes to meet her."

  "But you ain't going to try to take him? That would be playing it prettylow down on them both."

  "Keep your hair on, Jimmy! The Judge and me are only going to rastlewith the sperrit of that gay young galoot, when he drops down for hisgirl--and exhort him pow'ful! Ef he allows he's convicted of sin andwill find the Lord, we'll marry him and the gal offhand at the nextstation, and the Judge will officiate himself for nothin'. We'regoin' to have this yer elopement done on the square--and our waybillclean--you bet!"

  "But you don't suppose he'll trust himself in your hands?"

  "Polly will signal to him that it's all square."

  "Ah!" said the Expressman. Nevertheless in those few moments the menseemed to have exchanged dispositions. The Expressman looked doubtfully,critically, and even cynically before him. Bill's face had relaxed, andsomething like a bland smile beamed across it, as he drove confidentlyand unhesitatingly forward.

  Day, meantime, although full blown and radiant on the mountain summitsaround us, was yet nebulous and uncertain in the valleys into whichwe were plunging. Lights still glimmered in the cabins and few ranchbuildings which began to indicate the thicker settlements. And theshadows were heaviest in a little copse, where a note from JudgeThompson in the coach was handed up to Yuba Bill, who at once slowlybegan to draw up his horses. The coach stopped finally near the junctionof a small crossroad. At the same moment Miss Mullins slipped down fromthe vehicle, and, with a parting wave of her hand to the Judge, who hadassisted her from the steps, tripped down the crossroad, and disappearedin its semi-obscurity. To our surprise the stage waited, Bill holdingthe reins listlessly in his hands. Five minutes passed--an eternity ofexpectation, and, as there was that in Yuba Bill's face which forbadeidle questioning, an aching void of silence also! This was at lastbroken by a strange voice from the road:--

  "Go on we'll follow."

  The coach started forward. Presently we heard the sound of otherwheels behind us. We all craned our necks backward to get a view ofthe unknown, but by the growing light we could only see that we werefollowed at a distance by a buggy with two figures in it. EvidentlyPolly Mullins and her lover! We hoped that they would pass us. But thevehicle, although drawn by a fast horse, preserved its distance always,and it was plain that its driver had no desire to satisfy our curiosity.The Expressman had recourse to Bill.

  "Is it the man you thought of?" he asked eagerly.

  "I reckon," said Bill briefly.

  "But," continued the Expressman, returning to his former skepticism,"what's to keep them both from levanting together now?"

  Bill jerked his hand towards the boot with a grim smile.

  "Their baggage."

  "Oh!" said the Expressman.

  "Yes," continued Bill. "We'll hang on to that gal's little frills andfixin's until this yer job's settled, and the ceremony's over, jestas ef we waz her own father. And, what's more, young man," he added,suddenly turning to the Expressman, "YOU'LL express them trunks ofhers THROUGH TO SACRAMENTO with your kempany's labels, and hand her thereceipts and checks for them, so she CAN GET 'EM THERE. That'll keep HIMouter temptation and the reach o' the gang, until they get awayamong white men and civilization again. When your hoary-headed olegrandfather, or, to speak plainer, that partikler old whiskey-soakerknown as Yuba Bill, wot sits on this box," he continued, with adiabolical wink at the Expressman, "waltzes in to pervide for a youngcouple jest startin' in life, thar's nothin' mean about his
style, youbet. He fills the bill every time! Speshul Providences take a back seatwhen he's around."

  When the station hotel and straggling settlement of Sugar Pine, nowdistinct and clear in the growing light, at last rose within rifleshoton the plateau, the buggy suddenly darted swiftly by us, so swiftlythat the faces of the two occupants were barely distinguishable as theypassed, and keeping the lead by a dozen lengths, reached the door of thehotel. The young girl and her companion leaped down and vanished withinas we drew up. They had evidently determined to elude our curiosity, andwere successful.

  But the material appetites of the passengers, sharpened by the keenmountain air, were more potent than their curiosity, and, as thebreakfast-bell rang out at the moment the stage stopped, a majority ofthem rushed into the dining-room and scrambled for places without givingmuch heed to the vanished couple or to the Judge and Yuba Bill, who haddisappeared also. The through coach to Marysville and Sacramento waslikewise waiting, for Sugar Pine was the limit of Bill's ministration,and the coach which we had just left went no farther. In the course oftwenty minutes, however, there was a slight and somewhat ceremoniousbustling in the hall and on the veranda, and Yuba Bill and the Judgereappeared. The latter was leading, with some elaboration of mannerand detail, the shapely figure of Miss Mullins, and Yuba Bill wasaccompanying her companion to the buggy. We all rushed to the windows toget a good view of the mysterious stranger and probable ex-brigandwhose life was now linked with our fair fellow-passenger. I amafraid, however, that we all participated in a certain impression ofdisappointment and doubt. Handsome and even cultivated-looking, heassuredly was--young and vigorous in appearance. But there was a certainhalf-shamed, half-defiant suggestion in his expression, yet coupled witha watchful lurking uneasiness which was not pleasant and hardly becomingin a bridegroom--and the possessor of such a bride. But the frank,joyous, innocent face of Polly Mullins, resplendent with a simple,happy confidence, melted our hearts again, and condoned the fellow'sshortcomings. We waved our hands; I think we would have given threerousing cheers as they drove away if the omnipotent eye of Yuba Bill hadnot been upon us. It was well, for the next moment we were summoned tothe presence of that soft-hearted autocrat.

  We found him alone with the Judge in a private sitting-room, standingbefore a table on which there was a decanter and glasses. As we filedexpectantly into the room and the door closed behind us, he cast aglance of hesitating tolerance over the group.

  "Gentlemen," he said slowly, "you was all present at the beginnin' of alittle game this mornin', and the Judge thar thinks that you oughterbe let in at the finish. I don't see that it's any of YOUR d----dbusiness--so to speak; but ez the Judge here allows you're all in thesecret, I've called you in to take a partin' drink to the health of Mr.and Mrs. Charley Byng--ez is now comf'ably off on their bridal tower.What YOU know or what YOU suspects of the young galoot that's marriedthe gal ain't worth shucks to anybody, and I wouldn't give it to ayaller pup to play with, but the Judge thinks you ought all to promiseright here that you'll keep it dark. That's his opinion. Ez far as myopinion goes, gen'l'men," continued Bill, with greater blandness andapparent cordiality, "I wanter simply remark, in a keerless, offhandgin'ral way, that ef I ketch any God-forsaken, lop-eared, chuckle-headedblatherin' idjet airin' HIS opinion"--

  "One moment, Bill," interposed Judge Thompson with a grave smile; "letme explain. You understand, gentlemen," he said, turning to us, "thesingular, and I may say affecting, situation which our good-heartedfriend here has done so much to bring to what we hope will be a happytermination. I want to give here, as my professional opinion, that thereis nothing in his request which, in your capacity as good citizens andlaw-abiding men, you may not grant. I want to tell you, also, thatyou are condoning no offense against the statutes; that there is not aparticle of legal evidence before us of the criminal antecedents of Mr.Charles Byng, except that which has been told you by the innocent lipsof his betrothed, which the law of the land has now sealed forever inthe mouth of his wife, and that our own actual experience of his actshave been in the main exculpatory of any previous irregularity--if notincompatible with it. Briefly, no judge would charge, no jury convict,on such evidence. When I add that the young girl is of legal age, thatthere is no evidence of any previous undue influence, but rather of thereverse, on the part of the bridegroom, and that I was content, as amagistrate, to perform the ceremony, I think you will be satisfied togive your promise, for the sake of the bride, and drink a happy life tothem both."

  I need not say that we did this cheerfully, and even extorted from Billa grunt of satisfaction. The majority of the company, however, who weregoing with the through coach to Sacramento, then took their leave, and,as we accompanied them to the veranda, we could see that Miss PollyMullins's trunks were already transferred to the other vehicle under theprotecting seals and labels of the all-potent Express Company. Thenthe whip cracked, the coach rolled away, and the last traces of theadventurous young couple disappeared in the hanging red dust of itswheels.

  But Yuba Bill's grim satisfaction at the happy issue of the episodeseemed to suffer no abatement. He even exceeded his usual deliberatelyregulated potations, and, standing comfortably with his back to thecentre of the now deserted barroom, was more than usually loquaciouswith the Expressman. "You see," he said, in bland reminiscence, "whenyour old Uncle Bill takes hold of a job like this, he puts it straightthrough without changin' hosses. Yet thar was a moment, young feller,when I thought I was stompt! It was when we'd made up our mind to makethat chap tell the gal fust all what he was! Ef she'd rared or kicked inthe traces, or hung back only ez much ez that, we'd hev given him jestfive minits' law to get up and get and leave her, and we'd hev totedthat gal and her fixin's back to her dad again! But she jest gave alittle scream and start, and then went off inter hysterics, right onhis buzzum, laughing and cryin' and sayin' that nothin' should part 'em.Gosh! if I didn't think HE woz more cut up than she about it; a minitit looked as ef HE didn't allow to marry her arter all, but that passed,and they was married hard and fast--you bet! I reckon he's had enough ofstayin' out o' nights to last him, and ef the valley settlements hevn'tgot hold of a very shining member, at least the foothills hev got shutof one more of the Ramon Martinez gang."

  "What's that about the Ramon Martinez gang?" said a quiet potentialvoice.

  Bill turned quickly. It was the voice of the Divisional Superintendentof the Express Company,--a man of eccentric determination of character,and one of the few whom the autocratic Bill recognized as an equal,--whohad just entered the barroom. His dusty pongee cloak and soft hatindicated that he had that morning arrived on a round of inspection.

  "Don't care if I do, Bill," he continued, in response to Bill'sinvitatory gesture, walking to the bar. "It's a little raw out on theroad. Well, what were you saying about Ramon Martinez gang? You haven'tcome across one of 'em, have you?"

  "No," said Bill, with a slight blinking of his eye, as he ostentatiouslylifted his glass to the light.

  "And you WON'T," added the Superintendent, leisurely sipping his liquor."For the fact is, the gang is about played out. Not from want of a jobnow and then, but from the difficulty of disposing of the results oftheir work. Since the new instructions to the agents to identify andtrace all dust and bullion offered to them went into force, you see,they can't get rid of their swag. All the gang are spotted at theoffices, and it costs too much for them to pay a fence or a middlemanof any standing. Why, all that flaky river gold they took from theExcelsior Company can be identified as easy as if it was stamped withthe company's mark. They can't melt it down themselves; they can'tget others to do it for them; they can't ship it to the Mint or AssayOffices in Marysville and 'Frisco, for they won't take it without ourcertificate and seals; and WE don't take any undeclared freight WITHINthe lines that we've drawn around their beat, except from people andagents known. Why, YOU know that well enough, Jim," he said, suddenlyappealing to the Expressman, "don't you?"

  Possibly the suddenness of the appeal caused the Expr
essman to swallowhis liquor the wrong way, for he was overtaken with a fit ofcoughing, and stammered hastily as he laid down his glass, "Yes--ofcourse--certainly."

  "No, sir," resumed the Superintendent cheerfully, "they're pretty wellplayed out. And the best proof of it is that they've lately been robbingordinary passengers' trunks. There was a freight wagon 'held up' nearDow's Flat the other day, and a lot of baggage gone through. I had togo down there to look into it. Darned if they hadn't lifted a lot o'woman's wedding things from that rich couple who got married the otherday out at Marysville. Looks as if they were playing it rather low down,don't it? Coming down to hardpan and the bed rock--eh?"

  The Expressman's face was turned anxiously towards Bill, who, after ahurried gulp of his remaining liquor, still stood staring at the window.Then he slowly drew on one of his large gloves. "Ye didn't," he said,with a slow, drawling, but perfectly distinct, articulation, "happen toknow old 'Skinner' Hemmings when you were over there?"

  "Yes."

  "And his daughter?"

  "He hasn't got any."

  "A sort o' mild, innocent, guileless child of nature?" persisted Bill,with a yellow face, a deadly calm and Satanic deliberation.

  "No. I tell you he HASN'T any daughter. Old man Hemmings is a confirmedold bachelor. He's too mean to support more than one."

  "And you didn't happen to know any o' that gang, did ye?" continuedBill, with infinite protraction.

  "Yes. Knew 'em all. There was French Pete, Cherokee Bob, KanakaJoe, One-eyed Stillson, Softy Brown, Spanish Jack, and two or threeGreasers."

  "And ye didn't know a man by the name of Charley Byng?"

  "No," returned the Superintendent, with a slight suggestion of wearinessand a distraught glance towards the door.

  "A dark, stylish chap, with shifty black eyes and a curled-upmerstache?" continued Bill, with dry, colorless persistence.

  "No. Look here, Bill, I'm in a little bit of a hurry--but I supposeyou must have your little joke before we part. Now, what is your littlegame?"

  "Wot you mean?" demanded Bill, with sudden brusqueness.

  "Mean? Well, old man, you know as well as I do. You're giving me thevery description of Ramon Martinez himself, ha! ha! No--Bill! you didn'tplay me this time. You're mighty spry and clever, but you didn't catchon just then."

  He nodded and moved away with a light laugh. Bill turned a stony face tothe Expressman. Suddenly a gleam of mirth came into his gloomy eyes. Hebent over the young man, and said in a hoarse, chuckling whisper:--

  "But I got even after all!"

  "How?"

  "He's tied up to that lying little she-devil, hard and fast!"