e prejudice and the law of the land were to be flanked with
consolation and encouragement upon the eve of their ordeal in court. In
their lonely cell they were to feel that there were those outside whose
hearts beat with theirs. The floral tribute was to be sumptuous, and
Amanda had sent to San Francisco for pound-cake. The special quality she
desired could not be achieved by the Siskiyou confectioner.

Miss Sissons was not a party to this enterprise, and she told its
various details to Jim Hornbrook, half in anger, half in derision. He
listened without comment, and his face frightened her a little.

"Jim, what's the matter?" said she.

"Are you going to be at that circus?" he inquired.

"I thought I might just look on, you know," said Miss Sissons. "Mrs.
Campbell and a brass-band--"

"You'll stay in the house that night, Louise."

"Why, the ring isn't on my finger yet," laughed the girl, "the fatal
promise of obedience--" But she stopped, perceiving her joke was not a
good one. "Of course, Jim, if you feel that way," she finished. "Only
I'm grown up, and I like reasons."

"Well--that's all right too."

"Ho, ho! All right! Thank you, sir. Dear me!"

"Why, it ain't to please me, Louise; indeed it ain't. I can't swear
everything won't be nice and all right and what a woman could be mixed
up in, but--well, how should you know what men are, anyway, when they've
been a good long time getting mad, and are mad all through? That's what
this town is to-day, Louise."

"I don't know," said Miss Sissons, "and I'm sure I'd rather not know."
And so she gave her promise. "But I shouldn't suppose," she added, "that
the men of Siskiyou, mad or not, would forget that women are women."

Jim laughed. "Oh no," he said, "they ain't going to forget that."

The appointed day came; and the train came, several hours late, bearing
the box of confectionery, addressed to the Ladies' Reform and Literary
Lyceum. Bill, the ticket-agent, held his lantern over it on the
platform.

"That's the cake," said he.

"What cake?" Abe inquired.

Bill told him the rumor.

"Cake?" repeated Abe. "Fer them?" and he tilted his head towards the
jail. "Will you say that again, friend? I ain't clear about it. _Cake_,
did ye say?"

"Pound-cake," said Bill. "Ordered special from San Francisco."

Now pound-cake for adults is considered harmless. But it is curious how
unwholesome a harmless thing can be if administered at the wrong time.
The gaunt, sa