air upon the
sofa.

"But I thought you liked this Mr. Briggs. He seems an accommodating sort
of person."

"Very accommodating. Going away just as we are expecting company!"

"Going away?" said Mrs. Mayfield in alarm. "Surely he must be told that
we expect some preparation for our friends?"

"Oh," said Miss Mayfield quickly, "his aunt will arrange THAT."

Mrs. Mayfield, habitually mystified at her daughter's moods, said
no more. She, however, fulfilled her duty conscientiously by rising,
throwing a wrap over the young girl, tucking it in at her feet, and
having, as it were, drawn a charitable veil over her peculiarities, left
her alone.

At half past ten the coach dashed up to the "Half-way House," with a
flash of lights and a burst of cheery voices. Jeff, coming upon
the porch, was met by Mr. Mayfield, accompanying a lady and two
gentlemen,--evidently the guests alluded to by his daughter. Accustomed
as Jeff had become to Mr. Mayfield's patronizing superiority, it seemed
unbearable now, and the easy indifference of the guests to his own
presence touched him with a new bitterness. Here were HER friends, who
were to take his place. It was a relief to grasp Yuba Bill's large hand
and stand with him alone beside the bar.

"I'm ready to go with you to-night, Bill," said Jeff, after a pause.

Bill put down his glass--a sign of absorbing interest.

"And these yar strangers I fetched?"

"Aunty will take care of them. I've fixed everything."

Bill laid both his powerful hands on Jeff's shoulders, backed him
against the wall, and surveyed him with great gravity.

"Briggs's son clar through! A little off color, but the grit all thar!
Bully for you, Jeff." He wrung Jeff's hand between his own.

"Bill!" said Jeff hesitatingly.

"Jeff!"

"You wouldn't mind my getting up on the box NOW, before all the folks
get round?"

"I reckon not. Thar's the box-seat all ready for ye."

Climbing to his high perch, Jeff, indistinguishable in the darkness,
looked out upon the porch and the moving figures of the passengers, on
Bill growling out his orders to his active hostler, and on the twinkling
lights of the hotel windows. In the mystery of the night and the
bitterness of his heart, everything looked strange. There was a light in
Miss Mayfield's room, but the curtains were drawn. Once he thought they
moved, but then, fearful of the fascination of watching them, he turned
his face resolutely away.

Then, to his relief, the