nerous
and tenderly commiserating spirit that poured additional oil and wine
on the colonel's wounds. "The boys yer let on thet Mrs. Tretherick
prevailed on ye to pack her trunk and a baby over from the house to the
stage offis, and that the chap ez did go off with her thanked you, and
offered you two short bits, and sed ez how he liked your looks, and ud
employ you agin--and now you say it ain't so? Well, I'll tell the boys
it ain't so, and I'm glad I met you, for stories DO get round."

Happily for Mrs. Tretherick's reputation, however, the Chinaman in
Tretherick's employment, who was the only eyewitness of her flight,
stated that she was unaccompanied, except by the child. He further
deposed that, obeying her orders, he had stopped the Sacramento coach,
and secured a passage for herself and child to San Francisco. It was
true that Ah Fe's testimony was of no legal value. But nobody doubted
it. Even those who were skeptical of the pagan's ability to recognize
the sacredness of the truth admitted his passionless, unprejudiced
unconcern. But it would appear, from a hitherto unrecorded passage of
this veracious chronicle, that herein they were mistaken.

It was about six months after the disappearance of Mrs. Tretherick that
Ah Fe, while working in Tretherick's lot, was hailed by two passing
Chinamen. They were the ordinary mining coolies, equipped with long
poles and baskets for their usual pilgrimages. An animated conversation
at once ensued between Ah Fe and his brother Mongolians--a conversation
characterized by that usual shrill volubility and apparent animosity
which was at once the delight and scorn of the intelligent Caucasian who
did not understand a word of it. Such, at least, was the feeling with
which Mr. Tretherick on his veranda and Colonel Starbottle, who was
passing, regarded their heathenish jargon. The gallant colonel simply
kicked them out of his way; the irate Tretherick, with an oath, threw a
stone at the group, and dispersed them, but not before one or two slips
of yellow rice paper, marked with hieroglyphics, were exchanged, and a
small parcel put into Ah Fe's hands. When Ah Fe opened this in the dim
solitude of his kitchen, he found a little girl's apron, freshly washed,
ironed, and folded. On the corner of the hem were the initials "C. T."
Ah Fe tucked it away in a corner of his blouse, and proceeded to wash
his dishes in the sink with a smile of guileless satisfaction.

Two days after this, Ah