poker, in Sacramento. You see you can't prove anything agin them unless
you take them 'on the fly.' It may be a part of Joaquim Murietta's band,
though I wouldn't swear to it."

"The leader might have been Gentleman George, from up-country,"
interposed a passenger. "He seemed to throw in a few fancy touches,
particlerly in that 'Good night.' Sorter chucked a little sentiment in
it. Didn't seem to be the same thing ez, 'Git, yer d--d suckers,' on the
other line."

"Whoever he was, he knew the road and the men who travelled on it. Like
ez not, he went over the line beside the driver on the box on the down
trip, and took stock of everything. He even knew I had those greenbacks;
though they were handed to me in the bank at Sacramento. He must have
been hanging 'round there."

For some moments Hale remained silent. He was a civic-bred man, with an
intense love of law and order; the kind of man who is the first to take
that law and order into his own hands when he does not find it existing
to please him. He had a Bostonian's respect for respectability,
tradition, and propriety, but was willing to face irregularity and
impropriety to create order elsewhere. He was fond of Nature with these
limitations, never quite trusting her unguided instincts, and finding
her as an instructress greatly inferior to Harvard University, though
possibly not to Cornell. With dauntless enterprise and energy he had
built and stocked a charming cottage farm in a nook in the Sierras,
whence he opposed, like the lesser Englishman that he was, his own
tastes to those of the alien West. In the present instance he felt it
incumbent upon him not only to assert his principles, but to act
upon them with his usual energy. How far he was impelled by the