d relaxed, and
something like a bland smile beamed across it, as he drove confidently
and unhesitatingly forward.

Day, meantime, although full blown and radiant on the mountain summits
around us, was yet nebulous and uncertain in the valleys into which
we were plunging. Lights still glimmered in the cabins and few ranch
buildings which began to indicate the thicker settlements. And the
shadows were heaviest in a little copse, where a note from Judge
Thompson in the coach was handed up to Yuba Bill, who at once slowly
began to draw up his horses. The coach stopped finally near the junction
of a small crossroad. At the same moment Miss Mullins slipped down from
the vehicle, and, with a parting wave of her hand to the Judge, who had
assisted her from the steps, tripped down the crossroad, and disappeared
in its semi-obscurity. To our surprise the stage waited, Bill holding
the reins listlessly in his hands. Five minutes passed--an eternity of
expectation, and, as there was that in Yuba Bill's face which forbade
idle questioning, an aching void of silence also! This was at last
broken by a strange voice from the road:--

"Go on we'll follow."

The coach started forward. Presently we heard the sound of other
wheels behind us. We all craned our necks backward to get a view of
the unknown, but by the growing light we could only see that we were
followed at a distance by a buggy with two figures in it. Evidently
Polly Mullins and her lover! We hoped that they would pass us. But the
vehicle, 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 and
fixin's until this yer job's settled, and the ceremony's over, jest
as ef we waz her own father. And, what's more, young man," he added,
suddenly turning to the Expressman, "YOU'LL express them trunks of
hers THROUGH TO SACRAMENTO with your kempany's labels, and hand her the
receipts and checks for them, so she CAN GET 'EM THERE. That'll keep HIM
outer temptation and the reach o' t