done on the square--and our waybill
clean--you bet!"

"But you don't suppose he'll trust himself in your hands?"

"Polly will signal to him that it's all square."

"Ah!" said the Expressman. Nevertheless in those few moments the men
seemed to have exchanged dispositions. The Expressman looked doubtfully,
critically, and even cynically before him. Bill's face had 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 cross road. 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 cross road, 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."

[Illustration: "A PARTING WAVE OF HER HAND."]

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 scepticism,
"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 o