be undisturbed, but in an instant he was back,
crying:

"Lady comin'!"

Shirt-sleeves and trowsers-legs were hurriedly rolled down,
shirt-collars were buttoned, hats were dusted, and then each man went
leisurely out, with the air of having merely happened to leave the
saloon--an air which imposed upon no disinterested observer.

Coming up the trail beside the creek were a middle-aged gentleman and a
young lady, both on horseback.

The gentleman's dress and general style plainly indicated that he was
not a miner, nor a storekeeper, nor a barkeeper; while it was equally
evident that the lady was neither a washerwoman, a cook, nor a member of
either of the very few professions which were open to ladies on the
Pacific Coast in those days.

This much every miner quickly decided for himself; but after so
deciding, each miner reached the uttermost extremity of his wits, and
devoted himself to staring.

The couple reined up before the saloon, and the gentleman drew something
small and black and square from his pocket.

"Gentlemen," said he, "we are looking for an old friend of ours, and
have traced him to this camp. We scarcely know whether it would be any
use to give his name, but here is his picture. Can any one remember
having seen the person here?"

Every one looked toward Colonel Two, he being the man with the most
practical tongue in camp.

The colonel took the picture, and Weasel slipped up behind him and
looked over his shoulder. The colonel looked at the picture, abruptly
handed it back, looked at the young lady, and then gazed vacantly into
space, and seemed very uncomfortable.

"Been here, but gone," said the colonel, at length.

"Where did he go, do you know?" asked the gentleman, while the lady's
eyes dropped wearily.

"Nobody knows--only been gone a day or two," replied the colonel.

The colonel had a well-developed heart, and, relying on what he
considered the correct idea of Jim Hockson's mission, ventured to say:

"He'll be back in a day or two--left all his things."

Suddenly Weasel raised his diminutive voice, and said:

"The detec--"

The determined grip of the colonel's hand interrupted the communication
which Weasel attempted to make, and the colonel hastily remarked:

"Ther's a feller gone for him that's sure to fetch him back."

"Who--who is it?" asked the young lady, hesitatingly.

"Well, ma'am," said the colonel, "as yer father--I s'pose,
leastways--said, 'tain't much use to