aving been cached, or
buried, some time before. Most of their treasure was in packages of
gold dust; and from the conversation that ensued, it appeared that,
owing to the difficulties of disposing of it in the mountain towns, the
plan was to convey it by ordinary pack mule to the unfrequented valley,
and thence by an emigrant wagon, on the old emigrant trail, to the
southern counties, where it could be no longer traced. Since the
recent robberies, the local express companies and bankers had refused
to receive it, except the owners were known and identified. There had
been but one box of coin, which had already been speedily divided up
among the band. Drafts, bills, bonds, and valuable papers had been
usually intrusted to one "Charley," who acted as a flying messenger to
a corrupt broker in Sacramento, who played the role of the band's
"fence." It had been the duty of Chivers to control this delicate
business, even as it had been his peculiar function to open all the
letters and documents. This he had always lightened by characteristic
levity and sarcastic comments on the private revelations of the
contents. The rough, ill-spelt letter of the miner to his wife,
inclosing a draft, or the more sentimental effusion of an emigrant
swain to his sweetheart, with the gift of a "specimen," had always
received due attention at the hands of this elegant humorist. But the
operation was conducted to-night with business severity and silence.
The two leaders sat opposite to each other, in what might have appeared
to the rest of the band a scarcely veiled surveillance of each other's
actions. When the examination was concluded, and, the more valuable
inclosures put aside, the despoiled letters were carried to the fire
and heaped upon the coals. Presently the chimney added its roar to the
moaning of the distant hillside, a few sparks leaped up and died out in
the midnight air, as if the pathos and sentiment of the unconscious
correspondents had exhaled with them.

"That's a d--d foolish thing to do," growled French Pete over his cards.

"Why?" demanded Chivers sharply.

"Why?--why, it makes a flare in the sky that any scout can see, and a
scent for him to follow."

"We're four miles from any traveled road," returned Chivers
contemptuously, "and the man who could see that glare and smell that
smoke would be on his way here already."

"That reminds me that that chap you've tied up--that Collinson--allows
he wants to see you