the
roots of his hair.

"Yes, Jack was there," said Jenny, without change of color, or the least
self-consciousness in her great gray eyes; "and he came home with me."
She paused a moment, locking her two hands under her head, and assuming
a more comfortable position on the pillow. "He asked me that same
question again, father, and I said, 'Yes.' It's to be--soon. We're going
to live at Four Forks, in his own house; and next winter we're going to
Sacramento. I suppose it's all right, father, eh?" She emphasized the
question with a slight kick through the bed-clothes, as the parental
McClosky had fallen into an abstract revery.

"Yes, surely," said Mr. McClosky, recovering himself with some
confusion. After a pause, he looked down at the bed-clothes, and,
patting them tenderly, continued, "You couldn't have done better,
Jinny. They isn't a girl in Tuolumne ez could strike it ez rich as
you hev--even if they got the chance." He paused again, and then said,
"Jinny?"

"Yes, father."

"You'se in bed, and ondressed?"

"Yes."

"You couldn't," said Mr. McClosky, glancing hopelessly at the two
chairs, and slowly rubbing his chin,--"you couldn't dress yourself again
could yer?"

"Why, father!"

"Kinder get yourself into them things again?" he added hastily. "Not all
of 'em, you know, but some of 'em. Not if I helped you--sorter stood by,
and lent a hand now and then with a strap, or a buckle, or a necktie, or
a shoestring?" he continued, still looking at the chairs, and evidently
trying to boldly familiarize himself with their contents.

"Are you crazy, father?" demanded Jenny suddenly sitting up with a
portentous switch of her yellow mane. Mr. McClosky rubbed one side of
his beard, which already had the appearance of having been quite worn
away by that process, and faintly dodged the question.

"Jinny," he said, tenderly stroking the bedclothes as he spoke, "this
yer's what's the matter. Thar is a stranger down stairs,--a stranger to
you, lovey, but a man ez I've knowed a long time. He's been here about
an hour; and he'll be here ontil fower o'clock, when the up-stage
passes. Now I wants ye, Jinny dear, to get up and come down stairs, and
kinder help me pass the time with him. It's no use, Jinny," he went on,
gently raising his hand to deprecate any interruption, "it's no use! He
won't go to bed; he won't play keerds; whiskey don't take no effect on
him. Ever since I knowed him, he was the most onsatisfactory critt