osition
realized it. Ere the company had fairly recovered from their
bewilderment, Budge Isham declared that the victory was really his,
due to the good sense and high toned chivalry of his friends, and he
insisted upon doing the honors. He would accept no denial and the
engaging style in which he acquitted himself of this duty restored
good humor. Thus it was that the little mining town of the Sierras in
the days that are gone received its title.

The Heavenly Bower consisted of two large apartments, both on the
ground floor. The one at the rear was used by Landlord Ortigies for
sleeping, eating and partial storage purposes. When Vose Adams made
his quarterly visits to Sacramento, he was accompanied by two mules.
They were not necessary to take and bring the mail, since the pocket
of Adams' great coat was sufficient for that, but they carried down to
Sacramento several empty casks which came back filled, or rather they
were thus when the return journey was begun, but to the dismay of the
proprietor of the Heavenly Bower, he found that they were barely
two-thirds full, when unloaded at his place. Vose explained that the
leakage was due to the roughness of the trail. Since there seemed no
other way of overcoming this, the landlord sent an extra cask with the
request to Vose that he would confine his leakage to that and Vose
kindly obliged him.

The stuff thus provided for the Heavenly Bower was generally in
concentrated form, thereby permitting a dilution which insured a full
supply for the customers who were afflicted with an eternal thirst.

The bar room was of extensive proportions. Nearly all of one side was
occupied by the bar. Opposite was the huge fireplace, and scattered
around were a number of stools, rickety chairs and strong boxes which
served equally well for seats.

The crackling fire, the genial warmth and good cheer within the room
were the more striking because of their contrast with the howling
storm without. The gale roared around the corners of the rude but
strong structure, rattling against the massive door and the log walls,
spitting vicious gusts down the chimney and flinging great drifts
hither and yon with a fury that threatened to send the building
skurrying through the snowy space.

"It's the worst blizzard we ever had," remarked Wade Ruggles, after
one of these violent outbursts; "God pity any one that's abroad
to-night."

"It reminds me of that zephyr last winter," observed Vose Adams,