e. She's run
away from the Ferry half crazy; said she was going to Sacramento, and
I am going there to find her alive or dead. Forgive me, brother! Don't
throw this down right away; hold it in your hand a moment, Randy, boy,
and try hard to think it's my hand in yours. And so good-by, and God
bless you, old Randy!

From your loving brother,

RUTH.

A deep sense of relief overpowered every other feeling in Rand's breast.
It was clear that Ruth had not yet discovered the truth of Mornie's
flight: he was on his way to Sacramento, and before he could return,
Mornie could be removed. Once despatched in some other direction, with
Ruth once more returned and under his brother's guidance, the separation
could be made easy and final. There was evidently no marriage as yet;
and now, the fear of an immediate meeting over, there should be none.
For Rand had already feared this; had recalled the few infelicitous
relations, legal and illegal, which were common to the adjoining
camp,--the flagrantly miserable life of the husband of a San Francisco
anonyma who lived in style at the Ferry, the shameful carousals and more
shameful quarrels of the Frenchman and Mexican woman who "kept house"
at "the Crossing," the awful spectacle of the three half-bred Indian
children who played before the cabin of a fellow miner and townsman.
Thank Heaven, the Eagle's Nest on Table Mountain should never be pointed
at from the valley as another--

A heavy hand upon his arm brought him trembling to his feet. He turned,
and met the half-anxious, half-contemptuous glance of the doctor.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he said dryly; "but it's about time you or
somebody else put in an appearance at that cabin. Luckily for HER, she's
one woman in a thousand; has had her wits about her better than some
folks I know, and has left me little to do but make her comfortable. But
she's gone through too much,--fought her little fight too gallantly,--is
altogether too much of a trump to be played off upon now. So rise up
out of that, young man, pick up your scattered faculties, and fetch a
woman--some sensible creature of her own sex--to look after her; for,
without wishing to be personal, I'm d----d if I trust her to the likes
of you."

There was no mistaking Dr. Duchesne' s voice and manner; and Rand
was affected by it, as most people were throughout the valley of the
Stanislaus. But he turned upon him his frank and boyish face, and said
simply, "But I don't kn