r.

The Parson looked a little while out in the dark, through the open door
and was gone. There was a murmur of disappointment behind him.

"Don't you fear!" at last chimed in the head of the "Gay Roosters."
"Don't you never fear! That old sea-dog, the Parson, is deeper than a
infernal gulf."

"Look here!" He put up his finger to the side of his nose, after a
pause, and stroking his beard mysteriously, said: "I say, look here!
Shoo! Not a word! Softly now! Powder! That's what it means. Powder! Gits
'em both into the Parsonage and blows 'em to kingdom come together!"

The Howling Wilderness was reconciled. It was certain that the end was
not yet, by a great deal. It was again struck with wonder, however; and,
for want of a better expression, took a drink and settled down to a game
of monte.

Early next morning--a morning full of unutterable storms and drifts of
snow--Sandy entered the Widow's cabin.

The Parson was not to be seen either at the Howling Wilderness or about
his own house.

Men stood about the door of the Howling Wilderness, and up and down the
single street, in little knots, noting the course of things at the
Parsonage, and now and then shaking their loose blanket coats and
brushing off the fast falling snow.

After a while, when the smoke rose up from the chimney-top, and curled
above the Parsonage with a home-like leisure, as if a woman's hand
tended the fire below, a man with his face muffled up was seen making
his way slowly up the rugged way that led from town across the Sierra.

It was a desperate and dangerous undertaking at that season of the year.
He made but poor headway against the storm that came pelting down in his
face from the fields of eternal snow; but he seemed determined, and
pushed slowly on. Sometimes it was observed he would turn, and, shading
his eyes from the snow, look down intently at the peaceful smoke
drifting through the trees above the Parsonage.

"Some poor idiot will pass in his checks to-night, if he don't come back
pretty soon," said Stubbs, as he nodded at the man up the hill, brushed
the snow from his sleeves, and went back into the saloon.

There were now two subjects of conversation in the camp; the departure
of the Parson and the courtship of Sandy.

One day, however, there was quite a riffle in the usually smooth
current of affairs. It was this. A busy meddling man was seen to lay
hold of Sandy, and talk a long time in a mysterious and suspicious
manner