scarried; and, believing that his proposal had not met
my approval, Mr. and Mrs. McGlashan returned to Truckee a day earlier
than expected. Two weeks later he returned the envelope, its postmarks
showing what had happened.

It was not easy to gain the consent of my husband to a meeting with
Keseberg. He dreaded its effect on me. He feared the outcome of the
interview.

However, on May 16, 1879, he and I, by invitation, joined Mr. and Mrs.
McGlashan at the Golden Eagle Hotel in Sacramento. The former then
announced that although Keseberg had agreed by letter to meet us there,
he had that morning begged to be spared the mortification of coming to
the city hotel, where some one might recognize him, and as of old,
point the finger of scorn at him. After some deliberation as to how I
would accept the change, Mr. McGlashan had aceeded to the old man's
wish, that we drive to the neat little boarding house at Brighton next
morning, where we could have the use of the parlor for a private
interview. In compliance with this arrangement we four were at the
Brighton hotel at the appointed time.

Mr. McGlashan and my husband went in search of Keseberg, and after some
delay returned, saying:

"Keseberg cannot overcome his strong feeling against a meeting in a
public house. He has tidied up a vacant room in the brewery adjoining
the house where he lives with his afflicted children. It being Sunday,
he knows that no one will be about to disturb us. Will you go there?"

I could only reply, "I am ready."

My husband, seeing my lips tremble and knowing the intensity of my
suppressed emotion, hastened to assure me that he had talked with the
man, and been impressed by his straightforward answers, and that I need
have no dread of meeting or talking with him.

When we met at his door, Mr. McGlashan introduced us. We bowed, not as
strangers, not as friends, nor did we shake hands. Our thoughts were
fixed solely on the purpose that had brought us together. He invited us
to enter, led the way to that room which I had been told he had swept
and furnished for the occasion with seats for five. His first sentence
made us both forget that others were present. It opened the way at
once.

"Mr. McGlashan has told me that you have questions you wish to ask me
yourself about what happened in the mountain cabin."

Still standing, and looking up into his face, I replied: "Yes, for the
eye of God and your eyes witnessed my mother's last hours, and