whom seemed a farmer, and the other, by his black attire, a professional
man, Clarence was finally attracted by a black-mantled, dark-haired,
bonnetless woman on the back seat, whose attention seemed to be
monopolized by the jocular gallantries of her companions and the two
men before her in the middle seat. From her position he could see little
more than her dark eyes, which occasionally seemed to meet his frank
curiosity in an amused sort of way, but he was chiefly struck by the
pretty foreign sound of her musical voice, which was unlike anything
he had ever heard before, and--alas for the inconstancy of youth--much
finer than Mrs. Peyton's. Presently his farmer companion, casting a
patronizing glance on Clarence's pea-jacket and brass buttons, said
cheerily--

"Jest off a voyage, sonny?"

"No, sir," stammered Clarence; "I came across the plains."

"Then I reckon that's the rig-out for the crew of a prairie schooner,
eh?" There was a laugh at this which perplexed Clarence. Observing it,
the humorist kindly condescended to explain that "prairie schooner" was
the current slang for an emigrant wagon.

"I couldn't," explained Clarence, naively looking at the dark eyes on
the back seat, "get any clothes at Stockton but these; I suppose the
folks didn't think there'd ever be boys in California."

The simplicity of this speech evidently impressed the others, for
the two men in the middle seats turned at a whisper from the lady and
regarded him curiously. Clarence blushed slightly and became silent.
Presently the vehicle began to slacken its speed. They were ascending