Mary related the incident in detail, Judith cross-examining her minutely
as to the temper of the men at table towards Jim. Did she know if any
cattle-men were present? Did she hear where her brother had gone?

Mary had heard nothing further after he had left the eating-house; the
only one she had talked to had been Mrs. Clark, whose sympathy had been
entirely with Jim. Judith thanked her, but in reality she knew no more now
than she had heard from Major Atkins.

Judith now stopped in their walk and stood facing the road as it rolled
over the foot-hills—a skein of yellow silk glimmering in the sun. Then
Mary saw that the object spinning across it in the distance, hardly bigger
than a doll’s carriage, was the long-delayed stage. She spoke to the
postmistress, but apparently she did not hear—Judith was watching the
nearing stage as if it might bring some message of life and death. She
stood still, and the drooping lines of her figure straightened, every
fibre of her beauty kindled. She was like a flame, paling the sunlight.

And presently was heard the uncouth music of sixteen iron-shod hoofs
beating hard from the earth rhythmic notes which presently grew hollow and
sonorous as they came rattling over the wooden bridge that spanned the
creek.

"Chugg!" exclaimed Leander, rushing to the door in a tumult. There was
something crucial in the arrival of the delayed stage-driver. His
delinquencies had deflected the course of the travellers, left them
stranded in a remote corner of the wilderness; but now they should again
resume the thread of things; Chugg’s coming was an event.

"’Tain’t Chugg, by God!" said Leander, impelled to violent language by the