It was late the next evening when Jeff drew up at the coach office at Robinson's Ferry,where he was to await the coming of the Summit coach.His mind,lifted only temporarily out of its denumbed condition during his interview with the manager,again fell back into its dull abstraction.Fully embarked upon his dangerous journey,accepting all the meaning of the trust imposed upon him,he was yet vaguely conscious that he did not realize its full importance.He had neither the dread nor the stimulation of coming danger.He had faced death before in the boyish confidence of animal spirits;his pulse now was scarcely stirred with anticipation.
Once or twice before,in the extravagance of his passion,he had imagined himself rescuing Miss Mayfield from danger,or even dying for her.During his journey his mind had dwelt fully and minutely on every detail of their brief acquaintance;she was continually before him,the tones of her voice were in his ears,the suggestive touch of her fingers,the thrill that his lips had felt when he kissed them--all were with him now,but only as a memory.In his coming fate,in his future life,he saw her not.He believed it was a premonition of coming death.
He made a few preparations.The company's agent had told him that the treasure,letters,and dispatches,which had accumulated to a considerable amount,would be handed to him on the box;and that the arms and ammunition were in the boot.A less courageous and determined man might have been affected by the cold,practical brutality of certain advice and instructions offered him by the agent,but Jeff recognized this compliment to his determination,even before the agent concluded his speech by saying,"But I reckon they knew what they were about in the lower office when they sent YOU up.I dare say you kin give me p'ints,ef ye cared to,for all ye're soft spoken.There are only four passengers booked through;we hev to be a little partikler,suspectin'spies!Two of the four ye kin depend upon to get the top o'their d----d heads blowed off the first fire,"he added grimly.
At ten o'clock the Summit coach flashed,rattled,glittered,and snapped,like a disorganized firework,up to the door of the company's office.A familiar figure,but more than usually truculent and aggressive,slowly descended with violent oaths from the box.Without seeing Jeff,it strode into the office.
"Now then,"said Yuba Bill,addressing the agent,"whar's that God-forsaken fool that Wells,Fargo &Co.hev sent up yar to take charge o'their treasure?Because I'd like to introduce him to the champion idgit of Calaveras County,that's been selected to go to h-ll with him;and that's me,Yuba Bill!P'int him out.Don't keep me waitin'!"The agent grinned and pointed to Jeff.
Both men recoiled in astonishment.Yuba Bill was the first to recover his speech.
"It's a lie!"he roared;"or somebody has been putting up a job on ye,Jeff!Because I've been twenty years in the service,and am such a nat'ral born mule that when the company strokes my back and sez,'You're the on'y mule we kin trust,Bill,'I starts up and goes out as a blasted wooden figgerhead for road agents to lay fur and practice on,it don't follow that YOU'VE any call to go.""It was my own seeking,Bill,"said Jeff,with one of his old,sweet,boyish smiles."I didn't know YOU were to drive.But you're not going back on me now,Bill,are you?you're not going to send me off with another volunteer?""That be d----d!"growled Bill.Nevertheless,for ten minutes he reviled the Pioneer Coach Company with picturesque imprecation,tendered his resignation repeatedly to the agent,and at the end of that time,as everybody expected,mounted the box,and with a final malediction,involving the whole settlement,was off.
On the road,Jeff,in a few hurried sentences,told his story.
Bill scarcely seemed to listen."Look yar,Jeff,"he said suddenly.
"Yes,Bill."
"If the worst happens,and ye go under,you'll tell your father,IFI DON'T HAPPEN TO SEE HIM FIRST,it wasn't no job of mine,and Idid my best to get ye out of it."
"Yes,"said Jeff,in a faint voice.
"It mayn't be so bad,"said Bill,softening;"they KNOW,d--n 'em,we've got a pile aboard,ez well as if they seed 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.
