d sayin' that nothin' should part 'em.
Gosh! if I didn't think _he_ woz more cut up than she about it--a minit
it looked as ef _he_ didn't allow to marry her arter all, but that
passed, and they was married hard and fast--you bet! I reckon he's had
enough of stayin' out o' nights to last him, and ef the valley
settlements hevn't got hold of a very shining member, at least the
foothills hev got shut of one more of the Ramon Martinez gang."

"What's that about the Ramon Martinez gang?" said a quiet potential
voice.

Bill turned quickly. It was the voice of the Divisional Superintendent
of the Express Company--a man of eccentric determination of character,
and one of the few whom the autocratic Bill recognised as an equal--who
had just entered the bar-room. His dusty pongee cloak and soft hat
indicated that he had that morning arrived on a round of inspection.

"Don't care if I do, Bill," he continued, in response to Bill's
invitatory gesture, walking to the bar. "It's a little raw out on the
road. Well, what were you saying about Ramon Martinez gang? You haven't
come across one of 'em, have you?"

"No," said Bill, with a slight blinking of his eye, as he ostentatiously
lifted his glass to the light.

"And you _won't_," added the Superintendent, leisurely sipping his
liquor. "For the fact is, the gang is about played out. Not from want of
a job now and then, but from the difficulty of disposing of the results
of their work. Since the new instructions to the agents to identify and
trace all dust and bullion offered to them went into force, you see,
they can't get rid of their swag. All the gang are spotted at the
offices, and it costs too much for them to pay a fence or a middleman of
any standing. Why, all that flaky river gold they took from the
Excelsior Company can be identified as easy as if it was stamped with
the company's mark. They can't melt it down themselves; they can't get
others to do it for them; they can't ship it to the Mint or Assay
Offices in Marysville and 'Frisco, for they won't take it without our
certificate and seals, and _we_ don't take any undeclared freight
_within_ the lines that we've drawn around their beat, except from
people and agents known. Why, _you_ know that well enough, Jim," he
said, suddenly appealing to the Expressman, "don't you?"

Possibly the suddenness of the appeal caused the Expressman to swallow
his liquor the wrong way, for he was overtaken with a fit of coughing,
and