eed that agent gin it ye, but
they also know we've pre-pared!"

"I wasn't thinking of that, Bill; I was thinking of my father." And he
told Bill of the gambling episode at Sacramento.

"D'ye mean to say ye left them hounds with a thousand dollars of yer
hard-earned--"

"Gambling gains, Bill," interrupted Jeff quietly.

"Exactly! Well!" Bill subsided into an incoherent growl. After a few
moments' pause, he began again. "Yer ready as ye used to be with
a six-shooter, Jeff, time's when ye was a boy, and I uster chuck
half-dollars in the air fur ye to make warts on?"

"I reckon," said Jeff, with a faint smile.

"Thar's two p'ints on the road to be looked to: the woods beyond the
blacksmith's shop that uster be; the fringe of alder and buckeye by the
crossing below your house--p'ints where they kin fetch you without a
show. Thar's two ways o' meetin' them thar. One way ez to pull up and
trust to luck and brag. The other way is to whip up and yell, and send
the whole six kiting by like h-ll!"

"Yes," said Jeff.

"The only drawback to that plan is this: the road lies along the edge
of a precipice, straight down a thousand feet into the river. Ef these
devils get a shot into any one o' the six and it DROPS, the coach turns
sharp off, and down we go, the whole kerboodle of us, plump into the
Stanislaus!"

"AND THEY DON'T GET THE MONEY," said Jeff quietly.

"Well, no!" replied Yuba Bill, staring at Jeff, whose face was set as a
flint against the darkness. "I should reckon not." He then drew a long
breath, glanced at Jeff again, and said between his teeth, "Well, I'm
d----d!"

At the next station they changed horses, Bill personally supervising,
especially as regarded the welfare and proper condition of Blue Grass,
who here was brought out as a leader. Formerly there was no change of
horses at this station, and this novelty excited Jeff's remark. "These
yar chaps say thar's no station at the Summit now," growled Bill, in
explanation; "the hotel is closed, and it's all private property, bought
by some chap from 'Frisco. Thar ought to be a law agin such doin's!"

This suggested obliteration of the last traces of Miss Mayfield seemed
to Jeff as only a corroboration of his premonition. He should never hear
from her again! Yet to have stood under the roof that last sheltered
her; to, perchance, have met some one who had seen her later--this was a
fancy that had haunted him on his journey. It was all over now. Perhaps
it