Annixter and Hilma drove by, the crowd parted and a dozen men with
revolvers on their hips pushed their way to the curbstone, and, mounting
their horses, rode away at a gallop.

"It's the posse," said young Vacca.

Outside the town limits the ground was level. There was nothing to
obstruct the view, and to the north, in the direction of Osterman's
ranch, Vacca made out another party of horsemen, galloping eastward, and
beyond these still another.

"There're the other posses," he announced. "That further one is Archie
Moore's. He's the sheriff. He came down from Visalia on a special engine
this morning."

When the team turned into the driveway to the ranch house, Hilma uttered
a little cry, clasping her hands joyfully. The house was one glitter
of new white paint, the driveway had been freshly gravelled, the
flower-beds replenished. Mrs. Vacca and her daughter, who had been busy
putting on the finishing touches, came to the door to welcome them.

"What's this case here?" asked Annixter, when, after helping his wife
from the carry-all, his eye fell upon a wooden box of some three by five
feet that stood on the porch and bore the red Wells-Fargo label.

"It came here last night, addressed to you, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Vacca.
"We were sure it wasn't any of your furniture, so we didn't open it."

"Oh, maybe it's a wedding present," exclaimed Hilma, her eyes sparkling.

"Well, maybe it is," returned her husband. "Here, m' son, help me in
with this."

Annixter and young Vacca bore the case into the sitting-room of the
house, and Annixter, hammer in hand, attacked it vigorously. Vacca
discreetly withdrew on signal from his mother, closing the door after
him. Annixter and his wife were left alone.

"Oh, hurry, hurry," cried Hilma, dancing around him.

"I want to see what it is. Who do you suppose could have sent it to us?
And so heavy, too. What do you think it can be?"

Annixter put the claw of the hammer underneath the edge of the board top
and wrenched with all his might. The boards had been clamped together by
a transverse bar and the whole top of the box came away in one piece.
A layer of excelsior was disclosed, and on it a letter addressed by
typewriter to Annixter. It bore the trade-mark of a business firm of Los
Angeles. Annixter glanced at this and promptly caught it up before Hilma
could see, with an exclamation of intelligence.

"Oh, I know what this is," he observed, carelessly trying to restrain
her