hadn't shown us up, and got us a shot from the gang."
Bill gave a short grunt, but drove steadily on without further comment
or even turning his eyes to the speaker.
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 I saw 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 THROUGH FREE
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 spes
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