rty-niner rose half way up, felt that his spine was not very
reliable, and so spread out his two great hands on the two shoulders of
his boon companion, and peered down in his face till their two beards,
white as foam, almost flowed together.

"Let's run 'im out!"

At these words an old crippled man suddenly started up from his place
back in the corner, and tottered forward to where the three old heads
were huddled together.

"Run out Billie! Little Billie Piper, that never gits any older, never
has a beard! that come here, that come--when did little Billie Piper
come? Gintlemen, you listen to me. When you run out little Billie Piper,
by God, you run him out over my bones!" And here the Gopher thundered
his two fists down on to the pine-board table, and turning on his heel
tottered out and up the hill-side to his cabin.

CHAPTER XXVII.

BILLIE PIPER AND DEBOON.

It is more than possible that we, in America, did once have a real
Bourbon amongst us. If a Bonaparte could come and wed with us, and cast
his fortune with us, why certainly a very heir to the crown of France
might come and spend his life with us, live and die unknown. I don't
know that we ever had any kings, or sons of kings, or daughters of
kings, or any thing of the kind with us in the little Eden of the
Sierras, but I do know that we had some odd men there, and some great
men too, men that deserved to be kings, whatever they may have been.

And what they were, what they had been, no man ever knew. There was a
truce to investigation. The family tree stood in the form of a sombre
pine at each man's cabin door. That was enough. You could not go outside
of the camp for inquiry. The eternal girdle of snow lifted its front in
everlasting protest. How then shall I tell you who this silent widow
that refused to go away, that refused to surrender, that refused to
open her lips--how shall I tell you who she was, why she remained, or
from whence she came?

As for Billie Piper, the majority of the camp of course had long settled
down to the unalterable conviction that he remained for the love of the
Widow. And the camp hated him for it. He was shunned, despised, for he
did not look the man; he did not even act the man. When he was insulted
he did not resent it. He only held his head at such times, gave the road
to all, avoided all for weeks together, went on with his work in a
feeble way, for he was very feeble now, and never made answer to any
one.