southern route, arriving in California about seven days apart. They
decided to be strangers during their sojourn in the California town.
Putting up at different camps they disposed of their sheep and made an
appointment to come together again something like a hundred miles
distant, going west toward the Pacific ocean. By these means they hoped
to elude the vigilant eye of robbers and did get home without trouble.

Mr. Maxwell was one of the most generous men I ever knew. His table was
daily set for at least thirty guests. Sometimes his guests were invited,
but usually they were those whose presence was forced upon him by reason
of his palatial residence, rightfully called the "Manor House," which
stood upon the plateau at the foot of the Rocky mountains. Our stage
coaches were frequently water bound at Maxwell's, and our passengers
were treated like old and valued friends of the host, who, by the way,
was fond of cards. Poker and seven-up were his favorite. However, he
seldom ever played cards with other than personal friends. He often
loaned money to his friends to "stake" with $500 or $1000 if needed.
Some of the rooms in Maxwell's house were furnished as lavishly as were
the homes of English noblemen, while other rooms were devoid of
everything except a table for card playing, chairs and pipe racks.

There was one room in Maxwell's house which might be called his "den,"
however not very applicable. This room had two fireplaces built
diagonally across opposite corners and contained a couple of tables,
chairs and an old bureau where Maxwell kept several thousand dollars in
an unlocked drawer. The doors of this room were never locked and most
every one who came to this house knew that Maxwell kept large sums of
money in the "bureau drawer," but no one ever thought of molesting it,
or if they did, never did it. A man once asked Mr. Maxwell if he
considered his unique depository very secure. His answer was, "God help