between them; but all observed that one summer day Jack drove down the
main street of Red Dog in an open buggy, with the heiress of that town
beside him. Jack, albeit a trifle shaky, held the reins with something
of his old dash; and Mistress Peggy, in an enormous bonnet with
pearl-colored ribbons a shade darker than her hair, holding in her
short, pink-gloved fingers a bouquet of yellow roses, absolutely glowed
crimson in distressful gratification over the dash-board. So these two
fared on, out of the busy settlement, into the woods, against the rosy
sunset. Possibly it was not a pretty picture: nevertheless, as the dim
aisles of the solemn pines opened to receive them, miners leaned upon
their spades, and mechanics stopped in their toil to look after them.
The critical eye of Red Dog, perhaps from the sun, perhaps from the
fact that it had itself once been young and dissipated, took on a kindly
moisture as it gazed.

The moon was high when they returned. Those who had waited to
congratulate Jack on this near prospect of a favorable change in his
fortunes were chagrined to find, that, having seen the lady safe home,
he had himself departed from Red Dog. Nothing was to be gained from Peg,
who, on the next day and ensuing days, kept the even tenor of her way,
sunk a thousand or two more in unsuccessful speculation, and made no
change in her habits of personal economy. Weeks passed without any
apparent sequel to this romantic idyl. Nothing was known definitely
until Jack, a month later, turned up in Sacramento, with a billiard-cue
in his hand, and a heart overcharged with indignant emotion. "I don't
mind saying to you, gentlemen, in confidence," said Jack to a circle of
sympathizing players,--"I don't mind telling you regarding this thing,
that I was as soft on that freckled-faced, red-eyed, tallow-haired gal,
as if she'd been--a--a--an actress. And I don't mind saying, gentlemen,
that, as far as I understand women, she was just as soft on me. You