Another frightful jolt, and Mr. Greeley's bald head suddenly found
its way through the roof of the coach, amidst the crash of small
timbers and the ripping of strong canvas.

"Stop, you ---- maniac!" he roared.

Again answered Henry Monk:

"I've got my orders! KEEP YOUR SEAT, HORACE!"

At Mud Springs, a village a few miles from Placerville, they met a
large delegation of the citizens of Placerville, who had come out
to meet the celebrated editor, and escort him into town. There was
a military company, a brass band, and a six-horse wagon load of
beautiful damsels in milk-white dresses representing all the States
in the Union. It was nearly dark now, but the delegation were
amply provided with torches, and bonfires blazed all along the road
to Placerville.

The citizens met the coach in the outskirts of Mud Springs, and Mr.
Monk reined in his foam-covered steeds.

"Is Mr. Greeley on board?" asked the chairman of the committee.

"HE WAS, A FEW MILES BACK!" said Mr. Monk; "yes," he added, after
looking down through the hole which the fearful jolting had made in
the coach-roof--"yes, I can see him! He is there!"

"Mr. Greeley," said the Chairman of the Committee, presenting