We were now not more than a mile from the station at the crossroads where we were to change horses. The lights already glimmered in the distance, and there was a faint suggestion of the coming dawn on the summits 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 that seemed to be parallel with our own. We were all slightly startled; Yuba Bill alone preserving his moody calm.
"Hullo!" he said.
The stranger wheeled to our side as Bill slackened his speed. He seemed to 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 I see 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, I reckon--hangin' from the window. It was only a movin' spot agin the hillside, 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's expression in the darkness, but he neither spoke nor stirred until he threw down the reins when we stopped before the station.
The passengers quickly descended from the roof; the Expressman was about to follow, but Bill plucked his sleeve.
"I'm goin' to take a look over this yer stage and these yer passengers with ye, afore we start.""Why, what's up?"
"Well," said Bill, slowly disengaging himself from one of his enormous gloves, "when we waltzed down into the brush up there Isaw a man, ez plain ez I see you, rise up from it. I thought our time had come and the band was goin' to play, when he sorter drew back, made a sign, and we just scooted past him.""Well?"
"Well," said Bill, "it means that this yer coach was PASSED THROUGHFREE to-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 mock humility, "and I'm allus thankful for small mercies.
BUT," he added grimly, "when it comes down to being passed free by some pal of a hoss thief, and thet called a speshal Providence, IAIN'T IN IT! No, sir, I ain't in it!"
II.
It was with mixed emotions that the passengers heard that a delay of fifteen minutes to tighten certain screw-bolts had been ordered by the autocratic Bill. Some were anxious to get their breakfast at Sugar Pine, but others were not averse to linger for the daylight that promised greater safety on the road. The Expressman, knowing the real cause of Bill'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 road agents was wild and impossible, and, even if there was a confederate of the gang among them, he would have been more likely to precipitate a robbery than to check it. Again, the discovery of such a confederate--to whom they clearly owed their safety--and his arrest would have been quite against the Californian sense of justice, if not actually illegal. It seemed evident that Bill's quixotic sense of honor was leading him astray.
The station consisted of a stable, a wagon shed, and a building containing three rooms. The first was fitted up with "bunks" or sleeping berths for the employees; the second was the kitchen; and the third and larger apartment was dining-room or sitting-room, and was used as general waiting-room for the passengers. It was not a refreshment station, and there was no "bar." But a mysterious command from the omnipotent Bill produced a demijohn of whiskey, with which he hospitably treated the company. The seductive influence of the liquor loosened the tongue of the gallant Judge Thompson. He admitted to having struck a match to enable the fair Pike Countian to find her ring, which, however, proved to have fallen in her lap. She was "a fine, healthy young woman--a type of the Far West, sir; in fact, quite a prairie blossom! yet ****** and guileless as a child." She was on her way to Marysville, he believed, "although she expected to meet friends--a friend, in fact--later on." It was her first visit to a large town--in fact, any civilized centre--since she crossed the plains three years ago.
Her girlish curiosity was quite touching, and her innocence irresistible. In fact, in a country whose tendency was to produce "frivolity and forwardness in young girls, he found her a most interesting young person." She was even then out in the stable-yard watching the horses being harnessed, "preferring to indulge a pardonable healthy young curiosity than to listen to the empty compliments of the younger passengers."The figure which Bill saw thus engaged, without being otherwise distinguished, certainly seemed to justify the Judge's opinion.
