-is 
 
vmm 
 
 Henry Sotheran & Co., I 
 Booksellers and Bookbinders. 
 
SJK 
 
 >C M L<#S^V ftti 
 
w 
 
FENNINGS' EVERY MOTHER'S BOOK sent post free, on application by Letter 
 
 or Post Card. Direct to Alfred Fennings, West Cowes, I.W. 
 
 Coughs, Colds, Bronchitis. DO not let your child die I 
 
 Q FENNINGS' 6 Fennings ' Ch ^:^: dcrsprcvcnt m 
 
 UJ Tnwn TTTi¥TriTkr« Z ARE COOLING AND SOOTHING. > 
 
 kLUNG HEALERS.- fennings' 
 
 7? THE BEST REMEDY TO CURE ALL ^ f( TJ T T T\\) V 1VPC DAWTiFDC"^ 
 
 ° COUGHS, COLDS, ASTHMAS, ETC.hlfllliMMI rUBflJMO 
 
 & Sold in Boxes, at is. i£d. and 2s. LU For Children cutting their Teeth, to prevent ' 
 
 Hod., with directions. Sent post free ijj . Convulsions. PI 
 
 _ for 15 stamps. Direct to Alfred (Do not contain Calomel, Opium, Morphia, or p-| 
 -p Fennings, West Cowes, I.W. f— anything injurious to a tender babe.) , 
 
 TT The largest size Boxes, 2s. od. Sold in Stamped Boxes, at is. ijd. and 2s. od. ""1 
 ^ (35 stamps, post free), contain three ij (great saving), with full directions. Sent j£ 
 
 Z times the quantity of the small . post free for 15 stamps. 
 
 O boxes. Li. Direct to Alfred Fennings, West Cowes, I.W. 
 
 ?£ Read FENNINGS' EVERY-^ Read FENNINGS' EVERY MOTHER'S 2 
 r: BODY'S DOCTOR. Sent post ^ BOOK, which contains valuable hints on Q) 
 
 m free, 13 stamps. Direct to A. Fen- CO Feeding, Teething,Weaning, Sleeping, etc. . 
 nings, West Cowes, I.W. Ask your Chemist for a free copy. 
 
 DO NOT UNTIMELY DIE! 4 OT 
 
 SORE THROATS CURED WITH ONE DOSE. g O 
 
 FENNINGS' FEVER CURER! SqS 
 
 BOWEL COMPLAINTS cured with One Dose. ©S lj 
 
 TYPHUS or LOW FEVER cured with Two Doses. ^ # hi 
 
 DYPHTHERIA cured with Three Doses. 5 W & 
 
 SCARLET FEVER cured with Four Doses. b S 
 
 CHOLERA cured with Five Doses. y g 
 
 Sold in Bottles at is. i$d. each, with full directions, by all Chemists. O 5 
 
 Read FENNINGS' EVERYBODY'S DOCTOR. Sent post free JJ1 £{ 
 
 for 13 stamps. Direct A. FENNINGS, West Cowes, I.W. fcrj «* 
 
 PUBLIC OPINION 
 
 Is the only Weekly Journal which contains the opinions 
 
 of the Press throughout the World on all the great 
 
 Political and Social Topics of the Day — Home and 
 
 Foreign — thereby giving the most varied and accurate 
 
 information on all subjects of interest. 
 
 EVERY FRIDAY, PRICE 2d. 
 
 Established 25 Years. Annual Subscription, 10s. 10d., 
 Post Free. 
 
 rn 
 
 w 
 
 < 
 
 
 O 
 
 § 
 
 §1 
 
 H 
 
 gO 
 
 w 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 t-l 
 
 CQ 
 
 £ 
 
 Office: 11 Southampton Street, Strand, 
 
 LONDON, W.C. 
 
 a 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 Microsoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/devilsfordnovelOOhartrich 
 
DEVIL'S FORD 
 
 A NOVEL, 
 
 BY 
 
 BRET HARTE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 'THE LUCK OF ROARING CAMP,' ' MARUJA,' ETC., ETC. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 
 31 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C 
 
 1887. 
 
 {All Rights reserved.] 
 
CAUTION.— Beware of Counterfeits adopting the Title. 
 
 White Sound Teeth, Fragrant Breath, Healthy Gums to Old Age. 
 
 JEWSBUEY & BBOWFS 
 
 Oriental 
 Tooth Paste. 
 
 h CAUTION.— The ONLY GENUINE is 
 signed by JEWSBURY & BROWN. 
 
 Pots, Is. 6d. and 2s. 6d. 
 
 All Chemists. 
 Sixty Years in Use. Climate Proof. 
 
 THREE POPULAR NOYELS. 
 
 Price 3s. 6d. each, in Cloth. 
 
 BY WOMAN'S WIT. 
 
 By Mrs ALEXANDER, Author of "The Wooing O't," etc. 
 
 KILLED IN THE OPEN. 
 
 A SPORTING NOVEL. 
 
 By Mrs EDWARD KENNARD, Author of " The Right Sort," 
 
 " The Girl in the Brown Habit," etc. 
 
 IN A GRASS COUNTRY. 
 
 A STORY OF LOVE AND SPORT. 
 By Mrs H. LOVETT CAMERON, Author of "Juliet's Guardian," 
 " Deceivers Ever," etc. 
 {Fifth Edition now ready.) 
 
 LONDON: F. V. WHITE & CO., 
 31 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. . 
 
 PAGE 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 II. . 
 
 I 4 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 III. . 
 
 30 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 IV. . 
 
 54 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 V. . 
 
 . 76 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 VI. . 
 
 97 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 VII. . 
 
 132 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 VIII. . 
 
 149 
 
"SELECT" NOVELS. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth, ?>s. 6d. each. 
 AT ALL BOOKSELLERS AND BOOKSTALLS. 
 
 By FLORENCE MARRYAT. 
 
 HER WORLD AGAINST A LIE. 
 PEERESS AND PLAYER. 
 FACING THE FOOTLIGHTS. 
 
 THE HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE. 
 THE HEART OF JANE WARNER. 
 UNDER THE LILIES & ROSES. 
 MY OWN CHILD. ) A BROKEN BLOSSOM. 
 
 MY SISTER THE ACTRESS. 
 By ANNIE THOMAS (Mrs Pender Cudlip). 
 HER SUCCESS. I JENIFER. 
 
 KATE VALLIANT. I ALLERTON TOWERS. 
 
 FRIENDS AND LOVERS. 
 By LADY CONSTANCE HOWARD. 
 MATED WITH A CLOWN. | MOLLIE DARLING. 
 
 ONLY A VILLAGE MAIDEN. | SWEETHEART AND WIFE. 
 
 By MRS HOUSTOUN, Author of " Recommended to Mercy." 
 Barbara's warning. 
 
 By MRS ALEXANDER FRASER. 
 
 THE MATCH OF THE SEASON. | A FATAL PASSION. 
 
 A PROFESSIONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 By IZA DUFFUS HARDY. 
 
 ONLY A LOVE STORY. | NOT EASILY JEALOUS. 
 
 LOVE, HONOUR AND OBEY. 
 
 By JEAN MIDDLEMASS. 
 POISONED ARROWS. 
 
 By MRS H. LOVETT CAMERON. 
 IN A GRASS COUNTRY. | A DEAD PAST. 
 
 A NORTH COUNTRY MAID. 
 By DORA RUSSELL. I By LADY VIOLET GREVILLE. 
 
 OUT OF EDEN. KEITH'S WIFE. 
 
 By NELLIE FORTESCUE HARRISON, Author of " So Runs my Dream. 
 FOR ONE MAN'S PLEASURE. 
 
 By EDMUND LEATHES. 
 
 THE ACTOR'S WIFE. 
 
 By HARRIETT JAY. 
 
 A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE. 
 
DEVIL'S FORD. 
 
^•X'^'- : Wc^^^>^^$^^- £^s|^v>Cf5-Xii*C--" ' v ^ .••'•."' : ^ 
 
 DEVIL'S FORD, 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 |T was a season of unequalled 
 prosperity in Devil's Ford. 
 The half-a-dozen cabins scat- 
 tered along the banks of the North Fork, 
 as if by some overflow of that capricious 
 river, had become augmented during a 
 week of fierce excitement by twenty or 
 thirty others, that were huddled together 
 on the narrow gorge of Devil's Spur, or 
 cast up on its steep sides. So sudden and 
 
2 DeviFs Ford. 
 
 violent had been the change of fortune, 
 that the dwellers in the older cabins had 
 not had time to change with it, but still 
 kept their old habits, customs, and even 
 their old clothes. The flour pan in which 
 their daily bread was mixed stood on 
 the rude table side by side with the. ' pro- 
 specting pans,' half full of gold washed up 
 from their morning's cwork ; the front win- 
 dows of the newer tenements looked upon 
 the one single thoroughfare, but the back- 
 door opened upon the uncleared wilder- 
 ness, still haunted by the mis-shapen bulk 
 of bear or the nightly gliding of catamount. 
 Neither had success as yet affected their 
 boyish simplicity and the frankness of old 
 frontier habits ; they played with their new- 
 found riches with the naive delight of chil- 
 dren, and rehearsed their glowing future with 
 the importance and triviality of schoolboys. 
 
Devil's Ford. 3 
 
 1 I've bin kalklatin',' said Dick Mattingly, 
 leaning on his long-handled shovel with 
 lazy gravity, 'that when I go to Rome 
 this winter, I'll get one o' them marble 
 sharps to chisel me a statoo o' some kind 
 to set up on the spot where we made our 
 big strike. Suthin' to remember it by, 
 you know.' 
 
 1 What kind o' statoo — Washington or 
 Webster ? ' asked one of the Kearney 
 brothers, without looking up from his work. 
 
 * No — I reckon one o' them fancy groups 
 — one o' them Latin goddesses that Fair- 
 fax is always gassin' about, sorter leading 
 directin', and bossin' us where to dig.' 
 
 1 You'd make a healthy-lookin' figger 
 in a group,' responded Kearney, critically 
 regarding an enormous patch in Mattingly's 
 trousers. ' Why don't you have a fountain 
 instead ? ' 
 
4 Devil's Ford. 
 
 * Where'll you get the water ? ' de- 
 manded the first speaker, in return. ' You 
 know there ain't enough in the North 
 Fork to do a week's washing for the camp 
 — to say nothin' of its colour.' 
 
 1 Leave that to me,' said Kearney, with 
 self-possession. 'When I've built that 
 there reservoir on Devil's Spur, and bring 
 the water over the ridge from Union Ditch, 
 there'll be enough to spare for that.' 
 
 ' Better mix it up, I reckon, — have suthin' 
 half statoo, half fountain,' interposed the 
 elder Mattingly, better known as ' Mary- 
 land Joe,' ' and set it up afore the Town 
 Hall and Free Library I'm kalklatin' to 
 give. Do that, and you can count on me.' 
 
 After some further discussion, it was 
 gravely settled that Kearney should fur- 
 nish water brought from the Union Ditch, 
 twenty miles away, at a cost of two hun- 
 
DeviPs Ford. 5 
 
 dred thousand dollars, to feed a memorial 
 fountain erected by Mattingly, worth a 
 hundred thousand dollars, as a crowning 
 finish to public buildings contributed by 
 Maryland Joe, to the extent of half-a- 
 million more. The disposition of these 
 vast sums by gentlemen wearing patched 
 breeches, awakened no sense of the 
 ludicrous, nor did any doubt, reservation, 
 or contingency enter into the plans of the 
 charming enthusiasts themselves. The 
 foundation of their airy castles lay already 
 before them in the strip of rich alluvium 
 on the river bank, where the North Fork, 
 sharply curving round the base of Devil's 
 Spur, had for centuries swept the detritus 
 of gulch and canon. They had barely 
 crossed the threshold of this treasure- 
 house, to find themselves rich men ; what 
 possibilities of affluence might be theirs 
 
6 Devil's Ford. 
 
 when they had fully exploited their pos- 
 sessions ? So confident were they of that 
 ultimate prospect, that the wealth already 
 thus obtained was religiously expended in 
 engines and machinery for the boring of 
 wells and the conveyance of that precious 
 water which the exhausted river had long 
 since ceased to yield. It seemed as if the 
 gold they had taken out was by some 
 ironical compensation gradually making its 
 way back to the soil again through ditch 
 and flume and reservoir. 
 
 Such was the position of affairs at 
 Devil's Ford on the 13th of August i860. 
 It was noon of a hot day. Whatever 
 movement there was in the stifling air 
 was seen rather, than felt in a tremulous, 
 quivering upward moving dust along the 
 flank of the mountain, through which the 
 spires of the pines were faintly visible. 
 
Devil's Ford. y 
 
 There was no water in the bared and 
 burning bars of the river to reflect the 
 vertical sun, but under its direct rays one 
 or two tinned roofs and corrugated zinc 
 cabins struck fire, a few canvas tents 
 became dazzling to the eye, and the white 
 wooded coral of the stage office and hotel 
 insupportable. For two hours no one 
 ventured in the glare of the open, or even 
 to cross the narrow, unshadowed street, 
 whose dull red dust seemed to glow 
 between the lines of straggling houses. 
 The heated shells of these green unsea- 
 soned tenements gave out a pungent odour 
 of scorching wood and resin. The usual 
 hurried, feverish toil in the claim was sus- 
 pended ; the pick and shovel were left stick- 
 ing in the richest ' pay gravel ' ; the toiling 
 millionaires themselves, ragged, dirty, and 
 perspiring, lay panting under the nearest 
 
8 Devil's Ford, 
 
 shade, where their pipes went out listlessly, 
 and conversation sank to monosyllables. 
 
 1 There's Fairfax/ said Dick Mattingly, 
 at last, with a lazy effort. His face was 
 turned to the hillside, where a man had 
 just emerged from the woods, and was 
 halting irresolutely before the glaring ex- 
 panse of upheaved gravel and glistening 
 boulders that stretched between him and 
 the shaded group. * He's going to make 
 a break for it,' he added, as the stranger, 
 throwing his linen coat over his head, 
 suddenly started into an Indian trot 
 through the pelting sunbeams toward 
 them. This strange act was perfectly 
 understood by the group, who knew that 
 in that intensely dry heat, the danger of 
 exposure was lessened by active exercise, 
 and the profuse perspiration that followed 
 it. In another moment the stranger had 
 
DeviPs Ford. 9 
 
 reached their side, dripping as if rained 
 upon, mopping his damp curls and hand- 
 some bearded face with his linen coat, as 
 he threw himself, pantingly, on the ground. 
 
 1 1 struck out over here first, boys, to 
 give you a little warning,' he said, as soon 
 as he had gained breath. ' That engineer 
 will be down here to take charge as soon 
 as the six o'clock stage comes in. He's 
 an oldish chap, has got a family of two 
 daughters, and — I — am — d — d if he is not 
 bringing them down here with him/ 
 
 1 Oh, go long ! ' exclaimed the five men in 
 one voice, raising themselves on their hands 
 and elbows, and glaring at the speaker. 
 
 1 Fact, boys ! Soon as I found it out 
 I just waltzed into that Jew shop at the 
 Crossing and bought up all the clothes 
 that would be likely to suit you fellows, 
 before anybody else got a show. I reckon 
 
io Devil's Ford. 
 
 I cleared out the shop. The duds are a 
 little mixed in style, but I reckon they're 
 clean and whole, and a man might face a 
 lady in 'em. I left them round at the old 
 Buckeye Spring, where they're handy with- 
 out attracting attention. You boys can 
 go there for a general wash-up, rig your- 
 selves up without saying anything, and then 
 meander back careless and easy in your store 
 clothes, just as the stage is coming in, SabeP 
 
 ' Why didn't you let us know earlier ? ' 
 asked Mattingly aggrievedly ; ' you've 
 been back here at least an hour.' 
 
 1 I've been getting some place ready 
 for them,' returned the new comer. ' We 
 might have managed to put the man 
 somewhere, if he'd been alone, but these 
 women want family accommodation. There 
 was nothing left for me to do but to buy 
 up Thompson's saloon.' 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 1 
 
 1 No ! ' interrupted his audience, half 
 in incredulity, half in protestation. 
 
 * Fact ! You boys will have to take 
 your drinks under canvas again, I 
 reckon ! But I made Thompson let 
 those gold-framed mirrors that used to 
 stand behind the bar go into the bar- 
 gain, and they sort of furnish the room. 
 You know the saloon is one of them 
 patent houses you can take to pieces, 
 and I've been reckoning you boys will 
 have to pitch in and help me to take the 
 whole shanty over to the laurel bushes, 
 and put it up agin Kearney's cabin/ 
 
 * What's all that ? ' said the younger 
 Kearney, with an odd mingling of as- 
 tonishment and bashful gratification. 
 
 1 Yes, I reckon yours is the cleanest 
 house, because it's the newest, so you'll 
 just step out and let us knock in one of 
 
1 2 Devil's Ford, 
 
 the gables, and clap it on to the saloon 
 and make one house of it, don't you see ? 
 There'll be two rooms, one for the girls, 
 and the other for the old man.' 
 
 The astonishment and bewilderment of 
 the party had gradually given way to a 
 boyish and impatient interest. 
 
 * Hadn't we better do the job at once ? ' 
 suggested Dick Mattingly. 
 
 ' Or throw ourselves into those new 
 clothes, so as to be ready,' added the 
 younger Kearney, looking down at his 
 ragged trousers. * I say, Fairfax — what 
 are the girls like — eh ? ' 
 
 All the others had been dying to ask 
 the question, yet one and all laughed at 
 the conscious manner and blushing cheek 
 of the questioner. 
 
 1 You'll find out quick enough,' returned 
 Fairfax, whose curt carelessness did not, 
 
Devil's Ford. 13 
 
 however, prevent a slight increase of 
 colour on his own cheek. > * We'd better 
 get that job off our hands before doing 
 anything else. So, if you're ready, boys, 
 we'll just waltz down to Thompson's and 
 pack up the shanty. He's out of it by 
 this time, I reckon. You might as well 
 be perspiring to some purpose over there, 
 as gaspin' under this tree. We won't go 
 back to work this afternoon, but knock 
 off now, and call it half a day. Come ! 
 Hump yourselves, gentlemen. Are you 
 ready ? One, two, three, and away ! ' 
 
 In another instant the tree was de- 
 serted ; the figures of the five millionaires 
 of Devil's Ford, crossing the fierce glare 
 of the open space, with boyish alacrity, 
 glistened in the sunlight and then disap- 
 peared in the nearest fringe of thickets. 
 
K^fj^W 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 |IX hours later, when the shadow 
 of Devil's Spur had crossed the 
 river, and spread a slight cool- 
 ness over the flat beyond, the Pioneer 
 coach, leaving the summit, began also to 
 bathe its heated bulk in the long shadows 
 of the descent. Conspicuous among the 
 dusty passengers, the two pretty and 
 youthful faces of the daughters of Philip 
 Carr, mining superintendent and engineer, 
 looked from the windows with no little 
 anxiety towards their future home in the 
 straggling settlement below, that occasion- 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 5 
 
 ally came in view at the turns of the 
 long zig-zagging road. A. slight look of 
 comical disappointment passed between 
 them as they gazed upon the sterile flat, 
 dotted with unsightly excrescences that 
 stood equally for cabins or mounds of 
 stone and gravel. It was so feeble and 
 inconsistent a culmination to the beautiful 
 scenery they had passed through, so hope- 
 less and imbecile a conclusion to the pre- 
 paration of that long picturesque journey, 
 with its glimpses of sylvan and pastoral 
 glades and canons, that, as the coach 
 swept down the last incline, and the 
 remorseless monotony of the dead level 
 spread out before them, furrowed by 
 ditches and indented by pits, under 
 cover of shielding their cheeks from 
 the impalpable dust that rose beneath 
 their plunging wheels, they buried their 
 
1 6 Devil's Ford. 
 
 faces in their handkerchiefs, to hide a 
 few half hysterical tears. Happily, their 
 father, completely absorbed in a practical, 
 scientific, and approving contemplation of 
 the topography and material resources of 
 the scene of his future labours, had no 
 time to notice their defection. It was 
 not until the stage drew up before a 
 rambling tenement bearing the inscrip- 
 tion, ' Hotel and Stage Office,' that he 
 became fully aware of it. 
 
 ' We can't stop here, papa,' said Christie 
 Carr decidedly, with a shake of her 
 pretty head. * You can't expect that' 
 
 Mr Carr looked up at the building; it 
 was half grocery, half saloon. Whatever 
 other accommodation it contained must 
 have been hidden in the rear, as the flat 
 roof above was almost level with the raft- 
 ered ceiling of the shop. 
 
DeviFs Ford, 1 7 
 
 1 Certainly,' he replied hurriedly ; ' we'll 
 see to that in a moment. I dare say it's 
 all right. I told Fairfax we were coming. 
 Somebody ought to be here.' 
 
 1 But they're not,' said Jessie Carr in- 
 dignantly ; ' and the few that were here 
 scampered off like rabbits to their burrows 
 as soon as they saw us get down.' 
 
 It was true. The little group of loungers 
 before the building had suddenly disap- 
 peared. There was the flash of a red 
 shirt vanishing in an adjacent doorway ; 
 the fading apparition of a pair of high 
 boots and blue overalls in another; the 
 abrupt withdrawal of a curly blonde head 
 from a sashless window over the way. 
 Even the saloon was deserted, although a 
 back-door in the dim recess seemed to creak 
 mysteriously. The stage-coach, with the 
 other passengers, had already rattled away. 
 
 B 
 
1 8 Devil's Ford. 
 
 \ I certainly think Fairfax understood 
 that I — ' began Mr Carr. 
 
 He was interrupted by the pressure of 
 Christie's fingers on his arm, and a sub- 
 dued exclamation from Jessie, who was 
 staring down the street. 
 
 1 What are they ? ' she whispered, in her 
 sister's ear. ' Nigger minstrels, a circus, 
 or what ? ' 
 
 The five millionaires of Devil's Ford 
 had just turned the corner of the strag- 
 gling street, and were approaching in 
 single file. One glance was sufficient to 
 show that they had already availed them- 
 selves of the new clothing bought by Fair- 
 fax, had washed, and one or two had 
 shaved. But the result was startling. 
 
 Through some fortunate coincidence in 
 size, Dick Mattingly was the only one 
 who had achieved an entire suit. But it 
 
DeviFs Ford. 19 
 
 was of funereal black cloth, and although 
 relieved at one extremity by a pair of 
 high riding boots, in which his too short 
 trousers were tucked, and at the other by 
 a tall white hat, and cravat of aggressive 
 yellow, the effect was depressing. In 
 agreeable contrast, his brother, Maryland 
 Joe, was attired in a thin fawn-coloured 
 summer overcoat, lightly worn open, so as 
 to show the unstarched bosom of a white 
 embroidered shirt, and a pair of nankeen 
 trousers and pumps. The Kearney brothers 
 had divided a suit between them, the elder 
 wearing a tightly-fitting, single-breasted 
 blue frock-coat, and a pair of pink striped 
 cotton trousers, while the younger can- 
 didly displayed the trousers of his brother's 
 suit, as a harmonious change to a shining 
 black alpaca coat and crimson neckerchief. 
 Fairfax, who brought up the rear, had, 
 
20 Devil's Ford. 
 
 with characteristic unselfishness, contented 
 himself with a French workman's blue 
 blouse and a pair of white duck trousers. 
 Had they shown the least consciousness 
 of their finery, or of its absurdity, they 
 would have seemed despicable. But only 
 one expression beamed on the five sun- 
 burnt and shining faces — a look of un- 
 affected boyish gratification and unrer 
 stricted welcome. 
 
 They halted before Mr Carr and his 
 daughters, simultaneously removed their 
 various and remarkable head coverings, 
 and waited until Fairfax advanced and 
 severally presented them. Jessie Carr's 
 half-frightened smile took refuge in the 
 trembling shadows of her dark lashes ; 
 Christie Carr stiffened slightly, and looked 
 straight before her. 
 
 * We reckoned — that is — we intended to 
 
DeviFs Ford. 2 1 
 
 meet you and the young ladies at the 
 grade/ said Fairfax, reddening a little as 
 he endeavoured to conceal his too-ready 
 slang, ' and save you from trapesing — from 
 dragging yourselves up grade again to 
 your house/ 
 
 ' Then there is a house ? ' said Jessie, 
 with an alarmingly frank laugh of relief, that 
 was, however, as frankly reflected in the boy- 
 ishly appreciative eyes of the young men. 
 
 ' Such as it is,' responded Fairfax, with 
 a shade of anxiety, as he glanced at the 
 fresh and pretty costumes of the young 
 women, and dubiously regarded the two 
 Saratoga trunks resting hopelessly on the 
 verandah. ' I'm afraid it isn't much, for 
 what you're accustomed to. But,' he added 
 more cheerfully, ' it will do for a day or 
 two, and perhaps you'll give us the pleas- 
 ure of showing you the way there now ? ' 
 
±2 Devil's Ford. 
 
 The procession was quickly formed. 
 Mr Carr, alive only to the actual business 
 that had brought him there, at once took 
 possession of Fairfax, and began to dis- 
 close his plans for the working of the 
 mine, occasionally halting to look at the 
 work already done in the ditches, and to 
 examine the field of his future operations. 
 Fairfax, not displeased at being thus re- 
 lieved of a lighter attendance on Mr Carr's 
 daughters, nevertheless from time to time 
 cast a paternal glance backwards upon 
 their escorts, who had each seized a handle 
 of the two trunks, and were carrying them 
 in couples at the young ladies' side. The 
 occupation did not offer much freedom for 
 easy gallantry, but no sign of discomfiture 
 or uneasiness was visible in the grateful 
 faces of the young men. The necessity of 
 changing hands at times with their burdens 
 
DeviPs Ford. 23 
 
 brought a corresponding change of cavalier 
 at the lady's side, although it was observed 
 that the younger Kearney, for the sake of 
 continuing a conversation with Miss Jessie, 
 kept his grasp of the handle nearest the 
 young lady until his hand was nearly 
 cut through, and his arm worn out by 
 exhaustion. 
 
 ' The only thing on wheels in the camp 
 is a mule waggon, and the mules are 
 packin' gravel from the river this after- 
 noon,' explained Dick Mattingly apolo- 
 getically to Christie, ' or we'd have toted 
 — I mean carried — you and your baggage 
 up to the shant — the — your house. Give 
 us two weeks more, Miss Carr, — only two 
 weeks to wash up our work and realise, 
 and we'll give you a pair of 2-40 steppers 
 and a skeleton buggy to meet you at the 
 top of the hill and drive you over to the 
 
24 DevUs Ford, 
 
 cabin. Perhaps you'd prefer a regular 
 carriage ; some ladies do. And a nigger 
 driver. But what's the use of planning 
 anything ? Afore that time comes we'll 
 have run you up a house on the hill, and 
 you shall pick out the spot. It wouldn't 
 take long — unless you preferred brick. I 
 suppose we could get brick over from La 
 Grange if you cared for it, but it would 
 take longer. If you could put up for a 
 time with something of stained glass and 
 a mahogany verandah — ' 
 
 In spite of her cold indignation, and 
 the fact that she could only understand 
 a part of Mattingly's speech, Christie com- 
 prehended enough to make her lift her 
 clear eyes to the speaker as she replied 
 freezingly that she feared she would not 
 trouble them long with her company. 
 
 ■ Oh, you'll get over that,' responded 
 
DeviPs Ford. 25 
 
 Mattingly, with an exasperated confidence 
 that drove her nearly frantic from the mani- 
 fest kindliness of intent that made it im- 
 possible for her to resent it. ' I felt that 
 way myself at first. Things will look 
 strange and unsociable for a while, until 
 you get the hang of them. You'll natur- 
 ally stamp round and cuss a little — ' he 
 stopped in conscious consternation. 
 
 With ready tact, and before Christie 
 could reply, Maryland Joe had put down 
 the trunk and changed hands with his 
 brother. 
 
 . ' You mustn't mind Dick, or he'll go off 
 and kill himself with shame,' he whispered 
 laughingly in her ear. ' He means all 
 right, but he's picked up so much slang 
 here he's about forgotten how to talk 
 English, and it's nigh on to four years 
 since he's met a young lady.' 
 
26 Devil's Ford. 
 
 Christie did not reply. Yet the laughter 
 of her sister in advance with the Kearney 
 brothers seemed to make the reserve with 
 which she tried to crush further familiarity 
 only ridiculous. 
 
 ' Do you know many operas, Miss Carr ? ' 
 
 She looked at the boyish, interested, 
 sunburnt face so near to her own, and 
 hesitated. After all, why should she add 
 to her other real disappointments by taking 
 this absurd creature seriously. 
 
 ' In what way ? ' she returned, with a half 
 smile. 
 
 ' To play. On the piano of course. 
 There isn't one nearer here than Sacra- 
 mento ; but I reckon we could get a small 
 one by Thursday. You couldn't do any- 
 thing on a banjo ? ' he added doubtfully ; 
 ' Kearney's got one.' 
 
 ' I imagine it would be very difficult to 
 
Devil's Ford. 27 
 
 carry a piano over those mountains,' said 
 Christie laughingly, to avoid the collateral 
 of the banjo. 
 
 'We got a billiard-table over from 
 Stockton,' half bashfully interrupted Dick 
 Mattingly, struggling from his end of the 
 trunk to recover his composure, ' and it 
 had to be brought over in sections on the 
 back of a mule, so I don't see why' — he 
 stopped short again in confusion, at a sign 
 from his brother, and then added, ' I mean, 
 of course, that a piano is a heap more 
 delicate, and valuable, and all that sort of 
 thing, but it's worth trying for.' 
 
 ' Fairfax was always saying he'd get one 
 for himself, so I reckon it's possible/said Joe. 
 
 1 Does he play ? ' asked Christie. 
 
 * You bet,' said Joe, quite forgetting him- 
 self in his enthusiasm. ' He can snatch 
 Mozart and Beethoven baldheaded.' 
 
2$ Devil's Ford. 
 
 In the embarrassing silence that followed 
 this speech the fringe of pine wood nearest 
 the flat was reached. Here there was a 
 rude ■ clearing/ and beneath an enormous 
 pine stood the two recently joined tene- 
 ments. There was no attempt to conceal 
 the point of junction between Kearney's 
 cabin and the newly-transported saloon 
 from the flat, — no architectural illusion of 
 the palpable collusion of the two buildings, 
 which seemed to be telescoped into each 
 other. The front room or living room 
 occupied the whole of Kearney's cabin. 
 It contained, in addition to the necessary 
 articles for housekeeping, a 'bunk' or 
 berth for Mr Carr, so as to leave the 
 second building entirely to the occupation 
 of his daughters as bedroom and boudoir. 
 
 There was a half humorous, half 
 apologetic exhibition of the rude utensils 
 
DeviPs Ford. 29 
 
 of the living room, and then the young 
 men turned away as the two girls entered 
 the open door of the second room. 
 Neither Christie nor Jessie could for a 
 moment understand the delicacy which 
 kept these young men from accompanying 
 them into the room they had but a few 
 moments before decorated and arranged 
 with their own hands, and it was not until 
 they turned to thank their strange enter- 
 tainers that they found that they were 
 gone. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 |HE five impulsive millionaires of 
 Devil's Ford fulfilled not a few 
 of their most extravagant pro- 
 mises. In less than six weeks Mr Carr 
 and his daughters were installed in a new 
 house, built near the site of the double 
 cabin, which was again transferred to 
 the settlement, in order to give greater 
 seclusion to the fair guests. It was a 
 long, roomy, one-storied villa, with a not 
 unpicturesque combination of deep veran- 
 dah and trellis work, which relieved the 
 flat monotony of the interior, and the 
 
Devtfs Ford. 31 
 
 barrenness of the freshly-cleared ground. 
 An upright piano, brought - from Sacra- 
 mento, occupied the corner of the parlour. 
 A suite of gorgeous furniture, whose pro- 
 nounced and extravagant glories the young 
 girls instinctively hid under home-made 
 linen covers, had also been spoils from 
 afar. Elsewhere the house was filled 
 with ornaments and decorations that in 
 their incongruity forcibly recalled the 
 gilded plate-glass mirrors of the bedroom 
 in the old cabin. In the hasty furnishing 
 of this Aladdin's palace, the slaves of the 
 ring had evidently seized upon anything 
 that would add to its glory, without refer- 
 ence always to fitness. 
 
 % I wish it didn't look so cussedly like 
 a robber's cave,' said George Kearney, 
 when they were taking a quiet pre- 
 liminary survey of the unclassified 
 
32 Devils Ford. 
 
 treasures, before the Carrs took posses- 
 sion. 
 
 . ' Or a gambling hell,' said his brother 
 reflectively. 
 
 'It's about the same thing, I reckon/ 
 said Dick Mattingly, who was supposed, 
 in his fiery youth, to have encountered the 
 similarity. 
 
 Nevertheless, the two girls managed to 
 bestow the heterogeneous collection with 
 tasteful adaptation to their needs. A 
 crystal chandelier, which had once lent a 
 fascinating illusion to the game of Monte, 
 hung unlighted in the broad hall, where a 
 few other bizarre and public articles were 
 relegated. A long red sofa or bench, 
 which had done duty beside a billiard- 
 table, found a place here also. Indeed, 
 it is to be feared that some of the more 
 rustic and bashful youths of Devil's Ford, 
 
Devils Ford. 33 
 
 who had felt it incumbent upon them to 
 pay their respects to the new-comers, were 
 more at ease in this vestibule than in the 
 arcana beyond, whose glories they could 
 see through the open door. To others, 
 it represented a recognised state of proba- 
 tion before their re-entrde into civilisation 
 again. ■ I reckon, if you don't mind, 
 miss,' said the spokesman of one party, 
 ' ez this is our first call, we'll sorter hang 
 out in the hall yer, until you're used to us.' 
 On another occasion, one Whisky Dick, 
 impelled by a sense of duty, paid a visit 
 to the new house and its fair occupants, in 
 a fashion frankly recounted by him after- 
 wards at the bar of the Tecumseh Saloon. 
 ' You see, boys, I dropped in there the 
 other night, when some of you fellows 
 was doin' the high-toned " thankee marm " 
 business in the parlour ; I just came to 
 
34 Devil's Ford, 
 
 anchor in the corner of the sofy in the 
 hall, without lettin' on to say that I was 
 there, and took up a Webster's dictionary 
 that was on the table and laid it open — 
 keerless like, on my knees, ez if I was 
 sorter consultin' it — and kinder dozed off 
 there, listenin' to you fellows gassin' with 
 the young ladies, and that yer Miss 
 Christie just snakin' music outer that 
 pianner, and I reckon I fell asleep. Any- 
 how, I was there nigh on to two hours. 
 It's mighty soothin' them fashionable 
 calls ; sorter knocks the old camp dust 
 outer a fellow and sets him up again.' 
 
 It would have been well if the new life 
 of the Devil's Ford had shown no other 
 irregularity than the harmless eccentricities 
 of its original locators. But the news of 
 its sudden fortune, magnified by report, 
 began presently to flood the settlement 
 
Devil's Ford. 35 
 
 with another class of adventurers. A tide 
 of waifs, strays, and malcontents of old 
 camps along the river began to set to- 
 wards Devil's Ford, in very much the 
 same fashion as the ddbris, drift, and al- 
 luvium had been carried down in bygone 
 days and cast upon its banks. A few im- 
 migrant waggons, diverted from the high- 
 ways of travel by the fame of the new 
 diggings, halted upon the slopes of Devil's 
 Spur, and on the arid flats of the Ford, 
 and disgorged their sallow freight of alkali- 
 poisoned, prematurely-aged women and 
 children, and maimed and fever-stricken 
 men. Against this rude form of domes- 
 ticity were opposed the chromo-tinted 
 dresses and extravagant complexions of 
 a few single unattended women — happily 
 seen more often at night, and behind 
 gilded bars, than in the garish light of 
 
36 Devil's Ford, 
 
 day — and an equal number of pale-faced, 
 dark-moustached, well-dressed, and sus- 
 piciously idle men. A dozen rivals of 
 Thompson's Saloon had sprung up along 
 the narrow main street. There were two 
 new hotels — one a \ Temperance House,' 
 whose ascetic quality was confined only 
 to the abnegation of whisky. A rival 
 stage office, and a small one-storied build- 
 ing, from which the \ Sierran Banner ' 
 fluttered weekly, for ■ ten dollars a year, in 
 advance.' Insufferable in the glare of a 
 Sabbath sun, bleak, windy, and flaring in 
 the gloom of a Sabbath night, and hope- 
 lessly depressing on all days of the week, 
 the first Presbyterian Church lifted its 
 blunt steeple from the barrenest area of 
 the flats, and was hideous ! The civic 
 improvements so enthusiastically contem- 
 plated by the five millionaires in the earlier 
 
Devils Ford. 37 
 
 pages of this veracious chronicle — the 
 fountain, reservoir, town-hall, and free 
 library — had not yet been erected. Their 
 sites had been anticipated by more urgent 
 buildings and mining works, unfortunately 
 not considered in the sanguine dreams of 
 the enthusiasts, and, more significant still, 
 their cost and expense had been also an- 
 ticipated by the enormous outlay of their 
 earnings in the work upon Devil's Ditch. 
 
 Nevertheless, the liberal fulfilment of 
 their promise in the new house in the 
 suburbs blinded the young girls' eyes to 
 their shortcomings in the town. Their 
 own remoteness and elevation above its 
 feverish life kept them from the know- 
 ledge of much that was strange, and per- 
 haps disturbing to their equanimity. As 
 they did not mix with the immigrant wo- 
 men — Miss Jessie's good-natured intrusion 
 
38 Devil's Ford, 
 
 into one of their half-nomadic camps one 
 day having been met with rudeness and 
 suspicion — they gradually fell into the way 
 of trusting the responsibility of new ac- 
 quaintances to the hands of their original 
 hosts, and of consulting them in the matter 
 of local recreation. It thus occurred that 
 one day the two girls on their way to 
 the main street for an hour's shopping at 
 the Ville de Paris and Variety Store were 
 stopped by Dick Mattingly a few yards 
 from their house, with the remark that as 
 the county election was then in progress, 
 it would be advisable for them to defer 
 their intention for a few hours. As he 
 did not deem it necessary to add that 
 two citizens, in the exercise of a freeman's 
 franchise, had been supplementing their 
 ballots with bullets, in front of an admir- 
 ing crowd, they knew nothing of the ac- 
 
Devil's Ford, 39 
 
 cident that removed from Devil's Ford 
 an entertaining stranger, who had only 
 the night before partaken of their hospi- 
 tality. 
 
 A week or two later, returning one 
 morning from a stroll in the forest, Chris- 
 tie and Jessie were waylaid by George 
 Kearney and Fairfax, and under pretext 
 of being shown a new and romantic trail, 
 were diverted from the regular path. This 
 enabled Mattingly and Maryland Joe to 
 cut down the body of a man hung by the 
 Vigilance Committee a few hours before 
 on the regular trail, and to remonstrate 
 with the committee on the incompatibility 
 of such exhibitions with a maidenly wor- 
 ship of nature. 
 
 4 With the whole county to hang a man 
 in,' expostulated Joe, ' you might keep 
 clear of Carr's woods.' 
 
40 Devils Ford. 
 
 It is needless to add that the young 
 girls never knew of this act of violence, 
 or the delicacy that kept them in ignor- 
 ance of it. Mr Carr was too absorbed 
 in business to give heed to what he looked 
 upon as a convulsion of society as natural 
 as a geological upheaval, and too prudent 
 to provoke the criticism of his daughters 
 by comment in their presence. 
 
 An equally unexpected confidence, how- 
 ever, took its place. Mr Carr having 
 finished his coffee one moment, lingered 
 a moment over his perfunctory paternal 
 embraces, with the awkwardness of a pre- 
 occupied man endeavouring by the as- 
 sumption of a lighter interest to veil 
 another abstraction. 
 
 ' And what are we doing to-day, Chris- 
 tie ? ' he asked, as Jessie left the dining- 
 room. 
 
Devil's Ford. 41 
 
 ' Oh, pretty much the usual thing — 
 nothing in particular. If George Kearney 
 gets the horses from the summit, we're 
 going to ride over to Indian Spring to 
 picnic. Fairfax — Mr Munroe — I always 
 forget that man's real name in this dread- 
 fully familiar country — well, he's coming 
 to escort us, and take me, I suppose — that 
 is, if Kearney takes Jessie.' 
 
 1 A very nice arrangement,' returned 
 her father, with a slight nervous contrac- 
 tion of the corners of his mouth and eye- 
 lids to indicate mischievousness. ' I've no 
 doubt they'll both be here. You know 
 they usually are — ha ! ha ! And what 
 about the two Mattinglys and Philip 
 Kearney — eh ? ' he continued ; ' won't 
 they be jealous ? ' 
 
 1 It isn't their turn,' said Christie care- 
 lessly ; ' besides, they'll probably be there.' 
 
42 Devil's Ford. 
 
 ' And I suppose they're beginning to be 
 resigned,' said Carr, smiling. 
 
 ' What on earth are you talking of, 
 father ? ' 
 
 She turned her clear brown eyes upon 
 him, and was regarding him with such 
 manifest unconsciousness of the drift of 
 his speech, and, withal, a little vague im- 
 patience of his archness, that Mr Carr 
 was feebly alarmed. It had the effect of 
 banishing his assumed playfulness, which 
 made his serious explanation the more 
 irritating. 
 
 'Well, I rather thought that — that 
 young Kearney was paying considerable 
 attention to — to — to Jessie,' replied her 
 father, with hesitating gravity. 
 
 1 What ! that boy ? ' 
 
 ' Young Kearney is one of the original 
 locators, and an equal partner in the mine. 
 
Devil's Ford. 43 
 
 A very enterprising young fellow. In 
 fact, much more advanced and bolder in 
 his conceptions than the others. I find 
 no difficulty with him.' 
 
 At another time Christie would have 
 questioned the convincing quality of this 
 proof, but she was too much shocked at 
 her father's first suggestion, to think of 
 anything else. 
 
 1 You don't mean to say, father, that 
 you are talking seriously of these men — 
 your friends — whom we see every day — 
 and our only company.' 
 
 * No, no ! ' said Mr Carr hastily ; ' you 
 misunderstand. I don't suppose that 
 Jessie or you — ' 
 
 * Or me ! am / included ? ' 
 
 * You don't let me speak, Christie. I 
 mean, I am not talking seriously,' con- 
 tinued Mr Carr, with his most serious 
 
44 DeviFs Ford. 
 
 aspect, 'of you and Jessie in this matter; 
 but it may be a serious thing to these 
 young men to be thrown continually in 
 the company of two attractive girls.' 
 
 ' I understand — you mean that we 
 should not see so much of them,' said 
 Christie, with a frank expression of relief 
 so genuine as to utterly discompose her 
 father. ' Perhaps you are right, though 
 I fail to discover anything serious in the 
 attentions of young Kearney to Jessie — 
 or — whoever it may be — to me. But it 
 will be very easy to remedy it, and see 
 less of them. Indeed we might begin to- 
 day with some excuse.' 
 
 'Yes — certainly. Of course ! ' said Mr 
 Carr, fully convinced of his utter failure, 
 but like most weak creatures, consoling 
 himself with the reflection that he had 
 not shown his hand or committed himself. 
 
Devil's Ford. 45 
 
 1 Yes ; but it would perhaps be just as 
 well for the present to let things go on 
 as they were. We'll talk of it again — 
 I'm in a hurry now,' and edging himself 
 through the door, he slipped away. 
 
 * What do you think is father's last 
 idea ? ' said Christie, with, I fear, a slight 
 lack of reverence in her tone, as her sister 
 re-entered the room. ■ He thinks George 
 Kearney is paying you too much attention/ 
 
 4 No ! ' said Jessie, replying to her 
 sister's half interrogative, half amused 
 glance with a frank unconscious smile. 
 
 ' Yes, and he says that Fairfax — I think 
 it's Fairfax — is equally fascinated with 
 me" 
 
 Jessie's brow slightly contracted as she 
 looked curiously at her sister. 
 
 ' Of all things,' she said, * I wonder if 
 any one has put that idea into his dear 
 
46 Devil's Ford. 
 
 old head. He couldn't have thought it 
 himself.' 
 
 ' I don't know,' said Christie musingly ; 
 1 but perhaps it's just as well if we kept 
 a little more to ourselves for a while/ 
 
 I Did father say so ? ' said Jessie 
 quickly. 
 
 * No, but that is evidently what he 
 
 meant.' 
 
 ' Ye-es,' said Jessie slowly, ' unless — ' 
 ' Unless what ? ' said Christie sharply. 
 
 1 Jessie, you don't for a moment mean to 
 
 say that you could possibly conceive of 
 
 anything else ? ' 
 
 I I mean to say,' said Jessie, stealing 
 her arm around her sister's waist de- 
 murely, ' that you are perfectly right. 
 We'll keep away from these fascinating 
 Devil's Forders, and particularly the 
 youngest Kearney. I believe there has 
 
Devil's Ford. 47 
 
 been some ill-natured gossip. I remem- 
 ber that the other day when we passed 
 the shanty of that Pike County family 
 on the slope, there were three women at 
 the door, and one of them said something 
 that made poor little Kearney turn white 
 and pink alternately, and dance with sup- 
 pressed rage. I suppose the old lady — 
 M'Corkle, that's her name — would like 
 to have a share of our cavaliers for 
 her Euphemy and Mamie. I daresay 
 it's only right ; I would lend them the 
 cherub occasionally, and you might 
 let them have Mr Munroe twice a 
 week.' 
 
 She laughed, but her eyes sought her 
 sister's with a certain watchfulness of 
 expression. 
 
 Christie shrugged her shoulders with a 
 suggestion of disgust. 
 
48 Devil's Ford. 
 
 ' Don't joke. We ought to have thought 
 of all this before/ 
 
 ( But when we first knew them, in the 
 dear old cabin, there wasn't any other 
 woman and nobody to gossip, and that's 
 what made it so nice. I don't think so 
 very much of civilisation, do you ? ' said 
 the young lady pertly. 
 
 Christie did not reply. Perhaps she 
 was thinking the same thing. It cer- 
 tainly had been very pleasant to enjoy 
 the spontaneous and chivalrous homage 
 of these men, with no further suggestion 
 of recompense or responsibility than the 
 permission to be worshipped ; but beyond 
 that she racked her brain in vain to recall 
 any look or act that proclaimed the lover. 
 These men, whom she had found so 
 relapsed into barbarism, that they had 
 forgotten the most ordinary forms of 
 
DeviPs Ford. 49 
 
 civilisation ; these men, even in whose 
 extravagant admiration there was a cer- 
 tain loss of self-respect, that as a woman 
 she would never forgive ; these men, who 
 seemed to belong to another race — im- 
 possible! Yet it was so. 'What con- 
 struction must they have put upon her 
 father's acceptance of their presents — of 
 their company — of her freedom in their 
 presence? No! they must have under- 
 stood from the beginning that she and 
 her sister had never looked upon them 
 except as transient hosts and chance 
 acquaintances. Any other idea was pre- 
 posterous. And yet — ' 
 
 It was the recurrence of this 'yet' that 
 alarmed her. For she remembered now 
 that but for their slavish devotion they 
 might claim to be her equal. According 
 to her father's account, they had come 
 
50 Devil' x s Ford. 
 
 from homes as good as their own ; they 
 were certainly more than her equal in 
 fortune ; and her father had come to them 
 as an employe, until they had taken him 
 into partnership. If there had only been 
 sentiment of any kind connected with any 
 of them ! But they were all alike, brave, 
 unselfish, humorous — and often ridiculous. 
 If anything, Dick Mattingly was funniest 
 by nature, and made her laugh more. 
 Maryland Joe, his brother, told better 
 stories (sometimes of Dick), though not 
 so good a mimic as the other Kearney, 
 who had a fairly sympathetic voice in 
 singing. They were all good-looking 
 enough ; perhaps they set store on that — 
 men are so vain ! And as for her own 
 rejected suitor, Fairfax Munroe, except 
 for a kind of grave and proper motherli- 
 ness about his protecting manner, he ab- 
 
Devil's Ford. 5 1 
 
 solutely was the most indistinctive of them 
 all. He had once brought her some rare 
 tea from the Chinese camp, and had 
 taught her how to make it ; he had 
 cautioned her against sitting under the 
 trees at nightfall ; he had once taken off 
 his coat to wrap around her. Really if 
 this were the only evidence of devo- 
 tion that could be shown, she was 
 safe ! 
 
 ' Well,' said Jessie, ' it amuses you, I 
 see.' 
 
 Christie checked the smile that had 
 been dimpling the cheek nearest Jessie, 
 and turned upon her the face of an elder 
 sister. 
 
 1 Tell me, have you noticed this extra- 
 ordinary attention of Mr Munroe to 
 me?' 
 
 1 Candidly ? ' asked Jessie, seating her- 
 
52 Devil's Ford. 
 
 self comfortably on the table sideways, 
 and endeavouring to pull her skirt over 
 her little feet. ■ Honest Injun ?' 
 
 ' Don't be idiotic, and, above all, don't 
 be slangy ! Of course, candidly.' 
 
 ' Well, no. I can't say that I have.' 
 
 * Then,' said Christie, ' why, in the 
 name of all that's preposterous, do they 
 persist in pairing me off with the least 
 interesting man of the lot ? ' 
 
 Jessie leaped from the table. 
 
 1 Come now,' she said, with a little 
 nervous laugh, ' he's not so bad as all 
 that. You don't know him. But what 
 does it matter now, as long as we're not 
 going to see them any more ? ' 
 
 1 They're coming here for the ride to- 
 day,' said Christie resignedly. ' Father 
 thought it better not to break it off at 
 once.' 
 
Devil? s Ford. 53 
 
 'Father thought so!' echoed Jessie, 
 stopping with her hand on the door. 
 
 ■ Yes ; why do you ask ? ' 
 
 But Jessie had already left the room, 
 and was singing in the hall. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HE afternoon did not, however, 
 bring their expected visitors. 
 It brought, instead, a brief 
 note by the hands of Whisky Dick from 
 Fairfax, apologising for some business 
 that kept him and George Kearney from 
 accompanying the ladies. It added that 
 the horses were at the disposal of them- 
 selves, and any escort they might select, 
 if they would kindly give the message to 
 Whisky Dick. 
 
 The two girls looked at each other 
 
Devil's Ford. 55 
 
 awkwardly ; Jessie did not attempt to 
 conceal a slight pout. 
 
 ' It looks as if they were anticipating 
 us/ she said, with a half-forced smile. 
 ' I wonder, now if there really has been 
 any gossip ? But, no ! They wouldn't 
 have stopped for that, unless — ' she looked 
 curiously at her sister. 
 
 1 Unless what ? ' repeated Christie ; ' you 
 are horribly mysterious this morning.' 
 
 ' Am I ? It's nothing. But they're 
 wanting an answer. Of course you'll 
 decline.' 
 
 * And intimate we only care for their 
 company ! No ! We'll say we're sorry 
 they can't come, and — accept their horses. 
 We can do without an escort, we two.' 
 
 ' Capital ! ' said Jessie, clapping her 
 hands. ' We'll show them — ' 
 
 ' We'll show them nothing,' interrupted 
 
56 Devil's Ford. 
 
 Christie decidedly. * In our place there's 
 only the one thing to do. Where is this 
 —Whisky Dick?' 
 
 ? In the parlour/ 
 
 * The parlour ! ' echoed Christie. 
 ♦Whisky Dick? What— is he— ' 
 
 ' Yes ; he's all right/ said Jessie con- 
 fidently ; ' he's been here before, but he 
 stayed in the hall ; he was so shy. I 
 don't think you saw him.' 
 
 1 I should think not— Whisky Dick ! ' 
 
 ■ Oh you can call him Mr Hall, if you 
 like,' said Jessie, laughing. ' His real 
 name is Dick Hall. If you want to be 
 funny, you can say Alky Hall, as the 
 others do.' 
 
 Christie's only reply to this levity was a 
 look of superior resignation as she crossed 
 the hall and entered the parlour. 
 
 Then ensued one of those surprising, 
 
Devil's Ford. 5 7 
 
 mystifying, and utterly inexplicable 
 changes that leave the masculine being 
 so helpless in the hands of his feminine 
 master. Before Christie opened the door 
 her face underwent a rapid transformation ; 
 the gentle glow of a refined woman's wel- 
 come suddenly beamed in her interested 
 eyes ; the impulsive courtesy of an ex- 
 pectant hostess eagerly seizing a long- 
 looked-for opportunity broke in a smile 
 upon her lips as she swept across the 
 room, and stopped with her two white 
 outstretched hands before Whisky Dick. 
 
 It needed only the extravagant contrast 
 presented by that gentleman to complete 
 the tableau. Attired in a suit of shining 
 black alpaca, the visitor had evidently pre- 
 pared himself with some care for a possible 
 interview. He was seated by the French 
 window opening upon the verandah, as if 
 
58 DevUs Ford. 
 
 to secure a retreat in case of an emergency. 
 Scrupulously washed and shaven, some of 
 the soap appeared to have lingered in his 
 eyes and inflamed the lids, even while it 
 lent a sleek and shining lustre, not unlike 
 his coat, to his smooth black hair. Never- 
 theless, leaning back in his chair, he had 
 allowed a large white handkerchief to 
 depend gracefully from his fingers — a pose 
 at once suggesting easy and elegant languor. 
 
 ' How kind of you to give me an oppor- 
 tunity to make up for my misfortune when 
 you last called. I was so sorry to have 
 missed you. But was it entirely my fault ? 
 You were hurried, I think — you conversed 
 with others in the hall — you — ' 
 
 She stopped to assist him to pick up the 
 handkerchief that had fallen, and the 
 Panama hat that had rolled from his 
 lap towards the window when he had 
 
Devils Ford. 59 
 
 started suddenly to his feet at the appari- 
 tion of grace and beauty. As he still 
 nervously retained the two hands he had 
 grasped, this would have been a difficult 
 feat, even had he not endeavoured at the 
 same moment by a backward furtive kick, 
 to propel the hat out of the window, at 
 which she laughingly broke from his grasp 
 and flew to the rescue. 
 
 ' Don't mind it, miss,' he said hurriedly. 
 1 It is not worth your demeaning yourself 
 to touch it. Leave it outside thar, miss. 
 I wouldn't have toted it in, anyhow, if 
 some of those high falutin' fellows hadn't 
 allowed, the other night, ez it were the 
 reg'lar thing to do ; as if, miss, any gentle- 
 man kalkilated to ever put on his hat in 
 the house afore a lady ! ' 
 
 But Christie had already possessed her- 
 self of the unlucky object, and had placed 
 
60 Devil's Ford. 
 
 it upon the table. This compelled 
 Whisky Dick to rise again, and as an 
 act of careless good breeding to drop his 
 handkerchief in it. He then leaned one 
 elbow upon the piano, and, crossing one 
 foot over the other, remained standing in 
 an attitude he remembered to have seen 
 in the pages of an illustrated paper as 
 portraying the hero in some drawing-room 
 scene. It was easy and effective, but 
 seemed to be more favourable to reverie 
 than conversation. Indeed, he remem- 
 bered that he had forgotten to consult the 
 letterpress as to which it represented. 
 
 ' 1 see you agree with me that politeness 
 is quite a matter of intention,' said Christie, 
 * and not of mere fashion and rules. Now, 
 for instance/ she continued, with a 
 dazzling smile, ' I suppose, according to 
 the rules, I ought to give you a note to 
 
Devil's Ford. 61 
 
 Mr Munroe, accepting his offer. That is 
 all that is required ; but it seems so much 
 nicer, don't you think, to tell it to you for 
 him, and have the pleasure of your com- 
 pany and a little chat at the same time/ 
 
 * That's it, that's just it, Miss Carr, 
 you've hit it in the centre this time,' said 
 Whisky Dick, now quite convinced that 
 his attitude was not intended for eloquence, 
 and shifting back to his own seat, hat and 
 all, ' that's tantamount to what I said to 
 the boys just now. "You want an ex- 
 cuse," sez I, " for not goin' out with the 
 young ladies. So, accorden' to rules, you 
 writes a letter allowin' buzziness and that 
 sorter thing detains you. But wot's the 
 facts ? You're a gentleman, and as gentle- 
 men, you and George comes to the opinion 
 that you're rather playin' it for all it's 
 worth in this yer house, you know — 
 
62 Devil's Ford. 
 
 comin' here night and day, off and on, 
 reg'lar sociable and fam'ly like, and 
 makin' people talk about things they 
 ain't any call to talk about, and what's 
 a darned sight more — you fellows ain't 
 got any right yet to allow 'em to talk 
 about, d'ye see ? " ' He paused, out of 
 breath. 
 
 It was Miss Christie's turn to move 
 about. In changing her seat to the piano- 
 stool, so as to be nearer her visitor, she 
 brushed down some loose music, which 
 Whisky Dick hastened to pick up. 
 
 * Pray don't mind it,' she said, ' pray 
 don't, really — let it be — ' But Whisky 
 Dick, feeling himself on safe ground in 
 this attention, persisted to the bitter end 
 of a disintegrated and well-worn Trova- 
 tore. 'So that is what Mr Munroe said,' 
 she remarked quietly. 
 
Devil's Ford, 63 
 
 'Not just then, in course, but it's 
 what's bin on his mind and in his talk 
 for days off and on,' returned Dick, with 
 a knowing smile and a nod of mysterious 
 confidence. ' Bless your soul, Miss Carr, 
 folks like you and me don't need to have 
 them things explained. That's what I 
 said to him, sez I, " Don't send no note, 
 but just go up there and hev it out fair 
 and square, and say what you do mean." 
 But they would hev the note, and I 
 kalkilated to bring it. But when I set 
 my eyes on you, and heard you express 
 yourself as you did just now, I sez to 
 myself, sez I, " Dick, yer's a young lady 
 and a fash'nable lady at that, ez don't go 
 foolin' round on rules and etiketts " — excuse 
 my freedom, Miss Carr — " and you and 
 her," sez I, " kin just discuss this yer matter 
 in a sociable, off-hand, fash'nable way." 
 
64 Devil's Ford. 
 
 They're a good lot o' boys, Miss Carr, 
 a square lot — white men all of 'em ; but 
 they're a little soft and green, maybe, from 
 livin' in these yer pine woods along o' the 
 other sap. They just worship the ground 
 you and your sister tread on — certain ! of 
 course ! of course ! ' he added hurriedly, 
 recognising Christie's half-conscious, de- 
 precating gesture with more exaggerated 
 deprecation. ' I understand. But what 
 I wanter say is that they'd be willin' to 
 be that ground, and lie down and let you 
 walk over them — so to speak, Miss Carr, 
 so to speak — if it would keep the hem of 
 your gown from gettin' soiled in the mud 
 o' the camp. But it wouldn't do for them 
 to make a reg'lar curderoy road o' them- 
 selves for the huol camp to trapse over, 
 on the mere chance of your some time 
 passin' that way, would it now ? 
 
Devil's Ford. 65 
 
 ' Won't you let me offer you some 
 refreshment, Mr Hall ? ' said Christie, 
 rising, with a slight colour. ' I'm really 
 ashamed of my forgetfulness again, but 
 I'm afraid it's partly your fault for enter- 
 taining me to the exclusion of yourself. 
 No, thank you, let me fetch it for you/ 
 
 She turned to a handsome sideboard 
 near the door, and presently faced him 
 again with a decanter of whisky and a 
 glass in her hand, and a return of the 
 bewitching smile she had worn on 
 entering. 
 
 ( But perhaps you don't take whisky ? ' 
 suggested the arch deceiver, with a sudden 
 affected but pretty perplexity of eye, brow, 
 and lips. 
 
 For the first time in his life Whisky 
 Dick hesitated between two forms of in- 
 toxication. But he was still nervous and 
 E 
 
66 Devil's Ford. 
 
 uneasy ; habit triumphed, and he took the 
 whisky. He, however, wiped his lips 
 with a slight wave of his handkerchief, 
 to support a certain easy elegance which 
 he firmly believed relieved the act of any 
 vulgar quality. 
 
 1 Yes, ma'am,' he continued, after an 
 exhilarated pause. ' Ez I said afore, this 
 yer's a matter you and me kin discuss 
 after the fashion o' society. My idea is 
 that these yer boys should kinder let up 
 on you and Miss Jessie for a while, and 
 do a little more permiskus attention round 
 the Ford. There's one or two families 
 yer with grown-up galls ez oughter be 
 squared ; that is-^the boys mighter put 
 in a few fancy touches among them — 
 kinder take 'em buggy riding — or to 
 church — once in a while — just to take 
 the pizen outer their tongues, and make 
 
Devil's Ford. 67 
 
 a kind o' bluff to the parents, d'ye see ? 
 That would sorter divert their own minds ; 
 and even if it didn't, it would kinder get 
 'em accustomed agin to the old style and 
 their own kind. I want to warn ye agin 
 an idea that might occur to you in a 
 giniral way. I don't say you hev the 
 idea, but it's kind o' nat'ral you might be 
 thinkin' of it some time, and I thought 
 I'd warn you agin it.' 
 
 ' I think we understand each other too 
 well to differ much, Mr Hall,' said Christie, 
 still smiling ; ' but what is the idea ? ' 
 
 The delicate compliment to their con- 
 fidential relations and the slight stimulus 
 of liquor had tremulously exalted Whisky 
 Dick. Affecting to look cautiously out of 
 the window and around the room, he ven- 
 tured to draw nearer the young woman 
 with a half-paternal, half-timid familiarity. 
 
68 Devil's Ford. 
 
 * It might have occurred to you,' he 
 said, laying his hand lightly, holding his 
 handkerchief as if to veil mere vulgar 
 contact, on Christie's shoulder, 'that it 
 would be a good thing on your side to 
 invite down some of your high-toned 
 gentlemen friends from 'Frisco to visit 
 you and escort you round. It seems 
 quite nat'ral like, and I don't say it ain't, 
 but — the boys wouldn't stand it.' 
 
 In spite of her self-possession, Christie's 
 eyes suddenly darkened, and she invol- 
 untarily drew herself up. But Whisky 
 Dick, guiltily attributing the movement 
 to his own indiscreet gesture, said, ' Ex- 
 cuse me, miss,' recovered himself by 
 lightly dusting her shoulder with his 
 handkerchief, as if to remove the im- 
 pression, and her smile returned. 
 
 ' They wouldn't stand it,' said Dick, 
 
Devil's Ford. 69 
 
 'and there'd be some shooting! Not 
 afore you, miss — not afore you, in course ! 
 But they'd adjourn to the woods some 
 morning with them city folks, and hev it 
 out with rifles at a hundred yards. Or, 
 seem' ez they're city folks, the boys would 
 do the square thing with pistols at twelve 
 paces. They're good boys, as I said 
 afore ; but they're quick and tetchy — 
 George, being the youngest, nat'rally is 
 the tetchiest. You know how it is, Miss 
 Carr ; his pretty gal-like face and little 
 moustaches haz cost him half-a-dozen 
 scrimmages already. He'z had a fight 
 for every hair that's growed in his mous- 
 tache since he kem here.' 
 
 ' Say no more, Mr Hall ! ' said Christie, 
 rising and pressing her hands lightly on 
 Dick's tremulous fingers. * If I ever had 
 any such idea, I should abandon it now ; 
 
JO Devil's Ford. 
 
 you are quite right in this as in your 
 other opinions. I shall never cease to be 
 thankful to Mr Munroe and Mr Kearney 
 that they entrusted this delicate matter to 
 your hands.' 
 
 ' Well,' said the gratified and reddening 
 visitor, ' it ain't perhaps the square thing 
 to them or myself to say that they reckoned 
 to have me discuss their delicate affairs for 
 them, but — ' 
 
 ' I understand,' interrupted Christie, 
 ■ they simply gave you the j letter as a 
 friend. It was my good fortune to find 
 you a sympathising and liberal man of 
 the world.' The delighted Dick, with 
 conscious vanity beaming from every 
 feature of his shining face, lightly waived 
 the compliment aside with his handker- 
 chief, as she continued, ' But I am for- 
 getting the message. We accept the 
 
Devil's Ford. 7 1 
 
 horses. Of course we could do without 
 an escort ; but, forgive my speaking so 
 frankly, are you engaged this afternoon ? ' 
 
 ' Excuse me, miss, I don't take — ' stam- 
 mered Dick, scarcely believing his ears. 
 
 ' Could you give us your company as 
 an escort ? ■ repeated Christie, with a 
 smile. 
 
 Was he awake or dreaming, or was 
 this some trick of liquor in his often dis- 
 torted fancy ? He ! Whisky Dick ! the 
 butt of his friends, the chartered oracle 
 of the bar-rooms, even in whose wretched 
 vanity there was always the haunting sus- 
 picion that he was despised and scorned ! 
 he who had dared so much in speech, 
 and achieved so little in fact! he, whose 
 habitual weakness had even led him into 
 the wildest indiscretion here ; he— now 
 offered a reward for that indiscretion ! 
 
72 Devil's Ford. 
 
 He, Whisky Dick, the solicited escort 
 of these two beautiful and peerless girls ! 
 What would they say at the Ford ? 
 What would his friends think ? It 
 would be all over the Ford the next 
 day. His past would be vindicated, his 
 future secured. He grew erect at the 
 thought. It was almost in other voice, 
 and with no trace of his previous exag- 
 geration, that he said, ' With pleasure.' 
 
 'Then, if you will bring the horses at 
 once, we shall be ready when you return.' 
 
 In another instant he had vanished, as 
 if afraid to trust the reality of his good 
 fortune to the dangers of delay. At the 
 end of half-an-hour he re-appeared, lead- 
 ing the two horses, himself mounted on a 
 half-broken mustang. A pair of large, 
 jingling silver spurs, and a stiff sombrero >, 
 borrowed with the mustang from some 
 
DeviPs Ford. 73 
 
 mysterious source, were donned to do 
 honour to the occasion. 
 
 The young girls were not yet ready, 
 but he was shown by the Chinese servant 
 into the parlour to wait for them. The 
 decanter of whisky and glasses were still 
 invitingly there. He was hot, trembling, 
 and flushed with triumph. He walked 
 to the table and laid his hand on the 
 decanter, when an odd thought flashed 
 upon him. He would not drink this 
 time. No, it should not be said that he, 
 the selected escort of the dlite of Devil's 
 Ford, had to fill himself up with whisky 
 before they started. The boys might 
 turn to each other in their astonish- 
 ment, as he proudly passed with his fair 
 companions, and say, ' It's Whisky Dick,' 
 but he'd be d — d if they should add, 
 'and full as ever.' No, sir! Nor when 
 
74 Devil's Ford. 
 
 he was riding beside these real ladies, 
 and leaning over them at some confi- 
 dential moment, should they even know 
 it from his breath ! No ... . Yet a 
 thimbleful, taken straight — only a thimble- 
 ful, wouldn't be much, and might help to 
 pull him together. He again reached his 
 trembling hand for the decanter, hesi- 
 tated, and then, turning his back upon it, 
 resolutely walked to the open window. 
 Almost at the same instant he found 
 himself face to face with Christie on the 
 verandah. 
 
 She looked into his bloodshot eyes, and 
 cast a swift glance at the decanter. 
 
 ' Won't you take something before you 
 go ? ' she said sweetly. 
 
 * I — reckon — not, jest now,' stammered 
 Whisky Dick, with an heroic effort. 
 
 ' You're right,' said Christie. ' I see 
 
DeviPs Ford. 75 
 
 you are like me. It's too hot for anything 
 fiery. Come with me.' 
 
 She led him to the dining-room, and 
 pouring out a glass of iced tea, handed 
 it to him. Poor Dick was not prepared 
 for this terrible culmination. Whisky 
 Dick and iced tea! But under pretence 
 of seeing if it was properly flavoured, 
 Christie raised it to her own lips. 
 
 * Try it, to please me.' 
 
 He drained the goblet. 
 
 ' Now then,' said Christie gaily ; ' let's 
 find Jessie, and be off! ' 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 IHATEVER might have been his 
 other deficiencies as an escort, 
 Whisky Dick was a good 
 horseman, and, in spite of his fractious 
 brute, exhibited such skill and confidence 
 as to at once satisfy the young girls of his 
 value to them in the management of their 
 own horses, to whom side-saddles were 
 still an alarming novelty. Jessie, who 
 had probably already learned from her 
 sister the purport of Dick's confidences, 
 had received him with equal cordiality 
 and perhaps a more unqualified amuse- 
 
Devil's Ford. 77 
 
 ment ; and now, when fairly lifted into 
 the saddle by his tremulous but respectful 
 hands, made a very charming picture of 
 youthful and rosy satisfaction. And when 
 Christie, more fascinating than ever in 
 her riding-habit, took her place on the 
 other side of Dick as they sallied from 
 the gate, that gentleman felt his cup of 
 happiness complete. His triumphal entrie 
 into the world of civilisation and fashion 
 was secure. He did not regret the un- 
 tasted liquor ; here was an experience in 
 after years to lean his back against com- 
 fortably in bar-rooms, to entrance or defy 
 mankind. He had even got so far as to 
 formulate in fancy the sentence : — ' I re- 
 member, gentlemen, that one afternoon 
 being on a pasear with two fash'nable 
 young ladies,' etc., etc. 
 
 At present, however, he was obliged 
 
78 Devil's Ford. 
 
 to confine himself to the functions of an 
 elegant guide and cicerone — when not 
 engaged in ' having it out ' with his horse. 
 Their way lay along the slope, crossing 
 the highroad at right angles, to reach 
 the deeper woods beyond. Dick would 
 have lingered on the highway — ostensibly 
 to point out to his companions the new 
 flume that had taken the place of the 
 condemned ditch, but really in the hope 
 of exposing himself in his glory to the 
 curious eyes of the wayfaring world. 
 Unhappily the road was deserted in the 
 still powerful sunlight, and he was obliged 
 to seek the cover of the woods, with a 
 passing compliment to the parent of his 
 charges. Waving his hand towards the 
 flume, he said, — ' Look at that work of 
 your father's ; there ain't no other man 
 in Californy but Philip Can* ez would 
 
Devil's Ford. 79 
 
 hev the grit to hold up such a bluff agin 
 natur and agin luck'ez that yer flume 
 stands for. I don't say it 'cause you're 
 his daughters, ladies! That ain't the 
 style, ez . you know, in sassiety, Miss 
 Can*,' he added, turning to Christie as 
 the more socially experienced ; \ no ! but 
 there ain't another man to be found ez 
 could do it. It cost already two hundred 
 thousand ; it'll cost five hundred thousand 
 afore its done ; and every cent of it is 
 got out of the y earth beneath it, or hez 
 got to be out of it. Tain't ev'ry man, 
 Miss Carr, ez hev got the pluck to 
 pledge not only what he's got but what 
 he reckons to git.' 
 
 ' But suppose he don't get it ? ' said 
 Christie, slightly contracting her brows. 
 
 • Then there's the flume to show for it,' 
 said Dick, 
 
80 Devil's Ford. 
 
 1 But of what use is the flume, if there 
 isn't any more gold ? ' continued Christie, 
 almost angrily. 
 
 1 That's good from you, miss/ said Dick, 
 giving way to a fit of hilarity. ' That's 
 good for a fash'nable young lady — own 
 daughter of Philip Carr. She sez, says 
 she,' continued Dick, appealing to the 
 sedate pines for appreciation of Christie's 
 rare humour, ' " Wot's the use of a flume, 
 when gold ain't there ? " I must tell that 
 to the boys.' 
 
 1 And what's the use of the gold in 
 the ground when the flume isn't there to 
 work it out ? ' said Jessie to her sister, 
 with a cautioning glance towards Dick. 
 
 But Dick did not notice the look that 
 passed between the sisters. The richer 
 humour of Jessie's retort had thrown him 
 into convulsions of laughter. 
 
Devil's Ford. 81 
 
 1 And now she says, wot's the use o' the 
 gold without the flume ? 'Xcuse me, ladies, 
 but that's just puttin' the hull question that's 
 agitatin' this yer camp inter two speeches 
 as clear as crystal. There's the hull 
 crowd outside — and some on 'em inside 
 like Fairfax, hez their doubts — ez says 
 with Miss Christie ; and there's all of us 
 inside, ez holds Miss Jessie's views.' 
 
 ' I never heard Mr Munroe say that 
 the flume was wrong,' said Jessie quickly. 
 
 1 Not to you nat'rally,' said Dick, with a 
 confidential look at Christie ; * but I reckon 
 he'd like some of the money it cost laid 
 out for suthin' else. But what's the odds ; 
 the gold is there, and were bound to get it' 
 
 Dick was the foreman of a gang of 
 paid workmen, who had replaced the 
 millionaires in mere manual labour, and 
 the we was a polite figure of speech. 
 
82 Devils Ford. 
 
 The conversation seemed to have taken 
 an unfortunate turn, and both the girls 
 experienced a feeling of relief when they 
 entered the long gulch or defile that led 
 to Indian Spring. The track now be- 
 coming narrow, they were obliged to 
 pass in single file along the precipitous 
 hillside, led by this escort. This effec- 
 tually precluded any further speech, and 
 Christie at once surrendered herself to 
 the calm obliterating influences of the 
 forest. The settlement and its gossip 
 were far behind and forgotten. In the 
 absorption of nature, her companions 
 passed out of her mind, even as they 
 sometimes passed out of her sight in 
 the windings of the shadowy trail. As 
 she rode alone, the fronds of breast high 
 ferns seemed to caress her with out- 
 stretched and gently-detaining hands; 
 
Devil's Ford. 83 
 
 strange wild flowers sprang up through 
 the parting underbush ; even the granite 
 rocks that at times pressed closely upon 
 the trail appeared as if cushioned to her 
 contact with star-rayed mosses, or lightly 
 flung after her long lassoes of delicate 
 vines. She recalled the absolute freedom 
 of their al-fresco life in the old double 
 cabin, when she spent the greater part 
 of her waking hours under the mute trees 
 in the encompassing solitude, and, half 
 regretting the more civilised restraints 
 of this newer and more ambitious abode, 
 forgot that she had ever rebelled against 
 it. The social complication that threat- 
 ened her now seemed to her rather the 
 outcome of her half-civilised parlour than 
 of the sylvan glade. How easy it would 
 have been to have kept the cabin, and 
 then to have gone away entirely, than 
 
84 Devil's Ford. 
 
 for her father to have allowed them 
 to be compromised with the growing 
 fortunes of the settlement. The sus- 
 picions and distrust that she had al- 
 ways felt of their fortunes seemed to 
 grow with the involuntary admission of 
 Whisky Dick that they were shared 
 by others who were practical men. She 
 was fain to have recourse to the prospect 
 again to banish these thoughts, and 
 this opened her eyes to the fact that 
 her companions had been missing from 
 the trail ahead of her for some time. 
 She quickened her pace slightly to 
 reach a projecting point of rock that 
 gave her a more extended prospect. But 
 they had evidently disappeared. 
 
 She was neither alarmed nor annoyed. 
 She could easily overtake them soon, for 
 they would miss her, and return or wait 
 
Devil's Ford. 85 
 
 for her at the spring. At the worst she 
 would have no difficulty in retracing her 
 steps home. In her present mood, she 
 could readily spare their company ; indeed 
 she was not sorry that no other being 
 should interrupt that sympathy with the free 
 woods which was beginning to possess her. 
 She was destined, however, to be dis- 
 appointed. She had not proceeded a 
 hundred yards before she noticed the 
 moving figure of a man beyond her in 
 the hillside chapparal above the trail. He 
 seemed to be going in the same direction 
 as herself, and, as she fancied, endea- 
 vouring to avoid her. This excited her 
 curiosity to the point of urging her horse 
 forward until the trail broadened into the 
 level forest again, which she now remem- 
 bered was a part of the environs of Indian 
 Spring. The stranger hesitated, pausing 
 
86 Devil's Ford. 
 
 once or twice with his back towards her, 
 as if engaged in carefully examining the 
 dwarf willows to select a switch. Christie 
 slightly checked her speed as she drew 
 nearer ; when, as if obedient to a sudden 
 resolution, he turned and advanced to- 
 wards her. She was relieved and yet 
 surprised to recognise the boyish face and 
 figure of George Kearney. He was quite 
 pale and agitated, although attempting, by 
 a jaunty swinging of the switch he had 
 just cut, to assume the appearance of ease 
 and confidence. 
 
 Here was an opportunity. Christie re- 
 solved to profit by it. She did not doubt 
 that the young fellow had already passed 
 her sister on the trail, but, from bashful- 
 ness, had not dared to approach her. By 
 inviting his confidence, she would doubtless 
 draw something from him that would deny 
 
Devil's Ford. 87 
 
 or corroborate her father's opinion of his 
 sentiments. If he was really in love with 
 Jessie, she would learn what reasons he 
 had for expecting a serious culmination of 
 his suit, and perhaps she might be able 
 delicately to open his eyes to the truth. 
 If, as she believed, it was only a boyish 
 fancy, she would laugh him out of it with 
 that camaraderie which had always existed 
 between them. A half motherly sympathy, 
 albeit born quite as much from a contem- 
 plation of his beautiful yearning eyes as 
 from his interesting position, lightened the 
 smile with which she greeted him. 
 
 ' So you contrived to throw over your 
 stupid business and join us after all/ she 
 said ; ' or was it that you changed your 
 mind at the last moment ? ' she added 
 mischievously. 4 1 thought only we women 
 were permitted that?' Indeed she could 
 
SS Devil's Ford. 
 
 not help noticing that there was really a 
 strong feminine suggestion in the shifting 
 colour and slightly conscious eyelids of the 
 young fellow. 
 
 * Do young girls always change their 
 minds?' asked George, with an embar- 
 rassed smile. 
 
 ' Not always ; but sometimes they don't 
 know their own mind — particularly if 
 they're very young ; and when they do 
 at last, you clever creatures of men, who 
 have interpreted their ignorance to please 
 yourselves, abuse them for being fickle/ 
 She stopped to observe the effect of what 
 she believed a rather clear and significant 
 exposition of Jessie's and George's possi- 
 ble situation. But she was not prepared 
 for the look of blank resignation that 
 seemed to drive the colour from his face 
 and moisten the fire of his dark eyes. 
 
Devil's Ford. 89 
 
 ' I reckon you're right,' he said, look 
 ing down. 
 
 1 Oh ! we're not accusing you of fickle- 
 ness,' said Christie gaily ; ' although you 
 didn't come, and we were obliged to ask 
 Mr Hall to join us. I suppose you found 
 him and Jessie just now ? ' 
 
 But George made no reply. The 
 colour was slowly coming back to his 
 face, which, as she glanced covertly at 
 him, seemed to have grown so much 
 older that his returning blood might 
 have brought two or three years with it. 
 
 ' Really, Mr Kearney,' she said dryly, 
 * one would think that some silly, con- 
 ceited girl ' — she was quite earnest in 
 her epithets, for a sudden, angry con- 
 viction of some coquetry and disingenu- 
 ousness in Jessie had come to her in 
 contemplating its effects upon the young 
 
90 Devil 1 s Ford. 
 
 fellow at her side — ' some country jilt has 
 been trying her rustic hand upon you.' 
 
 ' She is not silly, conceited, nor 
 countrified/ said George, slowly raising 
 his beautiful eyes to the young girl half 
 reproachfully. 'It is I who am all that. 
 No, she is right, and you know it.' 
 
 Much as Christy admired and valued 
 her sister's charms, she thought this was 
 really going too far! What had Jessie 
 ever done — what was Jessie, to provoke 
 and remain insensible to such a blind 
 devotion as this ? And really — looking 
 at him now, he was not so very young for 
 Jessie; whether his unfortunate passion 
 had brought out all his latent manliness, 
 or whether he had hitherto kept his seri- 
 ous nature in the background, certainly 
 he was not a boy. And certainly his 
 was not a passion that he could be 
 
Devil's Ford. 91 
 
 laughed out of. It was getting very 
 tiresome. She wished she had not met 
 him — at least until she had had some 
 clearer understanding with her sister. 
 He was still walking beside her with 
 his hand on her bridle-rein, partly to 
 lead her horse over some boulders in 
 the trail, and partly to conceal his first 
 embarrassment. When they had fairly 
 reached the woods, he stopped. 
 
 ' I am going to say good-bye, Miss 
 Carr.' 
 
 ' Are you not coming further ? We 
 must be near Indian Spring now; Mr 
 Hall and — and Jessie — cannot be far 
 away. You will keep me company until 
 we meet them ? ' 
 
 1 No,' he replied quietly. ' I only 
 stopped you to say " Good-bye." I am 
 going away.' 
 
92 Devil's Ford. 
 
 ' Not from Devil's Ford?' she asked, 
 in half incredulous astonishment. 'At 
 least, not for long ? ' 
 
 ' 1 am not coming back,' he replied. 
 
 ' But this is very abrupt,' she said 
 hurriedly, feeling that in some ridiculous 
 way she had precipitated an equally ridi- 
 culous catastrophe. * Surely you are not 
 going away in this fashion without saying 
 Good-bye to Jessie and — and father?' 
 
 1 I shall see your father, of course — and 
 you will give my regards to Miss Jessie.' 
 
 He evidently was in earnest. Was 
 there ever anything so perfectly prepos- 
 terous ? She became indignant. 
 
 ' Of course,' she said coldly, ' I won't 
 detain you ; your business must be urgent, 
 and I forgot — at least I had forgotten 
 until to-day — that you have other duties 
 more important than that of squire of 
 
Devil's Ford. 93 
 
 dames. I am afraid this forgetfulness 
 made me think you would not part from 
 us in quite such a business fashion. I 
 presume, if you had not met me just now, 
 we should none of us have seen you again ?' 
 
 He did not reply. 
 
 'Will you say Good-bye, Miss Carr? 7 
 
 He held out his hand. 
 
 ' One moment, Mr Kearney. If I have 
 said anything which you think justifies this 
 very abrupt leave-taking, I beg you will for- 
 give and forget it — or, at least, let it have no 
 more weight with you than the idle words 
 of any woman. I only spoke generally 
 You know — I — I — might be mistaken.' 
 
 His eyes, which had dilated when she 
 began to speak, darkened ; his colour, which 
 had quickly come, as quickly sank when 
 she had ended. 
 
 'Don't say that, Miss Carr. It is not 
 
94 Devil's Ford. 
 
 like you, and — it is useless. You know 
 what I meant a moment ago. I read it in 
 your reply. You meant that I, like others, 
 had deceived myself. Did you not ? ' 
 
 She could not meet those honest eyes 
 with less than equal honesty. She knew 
 that Jessie did not love him, — would not 
 marry him — whatever coquetry she might 
 have shown. 
 
 ' I did not mean to offend you,' she said 
 hesitatingly ; * I only half suspected it when 
 I spoke.' 
 
 'And you wish to spare me the avowal?' 
 he said bitterly. 
 
 1 To me, perhaps, yes, by anticipating it. 
 I could not tell what ideas you might have 
 gathered from some indiscreet frankness 
 of Jessie — or my father,' she added, with 
 almost equal bitterness. 
 
 ' I have never spoken to either,' he 
 
Devil's Ford. 95 
 
 replied quickly. He stopped, and added, 
 after a moment's mortifying reflection, 
 ' I've been brought up in the woods, Miss 
 Carr, and I suppose I have followed my 
 feelings, instead of the etiquette of society/ 
 
 Christie was too relieved at the reha- 
 bilitation of Jessie's truthfulness to notice 
 the full significance of his speech. 
 
 1 Good-bye,' he said again, holding out 
 his hand. 
 
 * Good-bye ! ' 
 
 She extended her own, ungloved, with a 
 frank smile. He held it for a moment with 
 his eyes fixed upon hers. Then suddenly, 
 as if obeying an uncontrollable impulse, 
 he crushed it like a flower again and again 
 against his burning lips, and darted away. 
 
 Christie sank back in her saddle with a 
 little cry half of pain and half of frightened 
 surprise. Had the poor boy suddenly gone 
 
96 Devil's Ford. 
 
 mad, or was this vicarious farewell a part of 
 the courtship of Devil's Ford ? She looked 
 at her little hand, which had reddened 
 under the pressure, and suddenly felt the 
 flush extending to her cheeks and the 
 roots of her hair. This was intolerable. 
 
 ' Christie ! ' 
 
 It was her sister emerging from the 
 wood to seek her. In another moment 
 she was at her side. 
 
 ' We thought you were following/ said 
 Jessie. ' Good heavens ! how you look ! 
 What has happened ? ' 
 
 * Nothing. I met Mr Kearney a 
 moment ago on the trail. He is going 
 away, and — and — ' she stopped, furious 
 and flushing. 
 
 'And,' said Jessie, with a burst of 
 merriment, ' he told you at last he loved 
 you. Oh, Christie ! ' 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 HE abrupt departure of George 
 Kearney from Devil's Ford 
 excited but little interest in 
 the community, and was soon forgotten. 
 It was generally attributed to differences 
 between himself and his partners on the 
 question of further outlay of their earn- 
 ings on mining improvements — he and 
 Philip Carr alone representing a sanguine 
 minority whose faith in the future of the 
 mine accepted any risks. It was alleged 
 by some that he had sold out to his 
 brother ; it was believed by others that 
 
98 Devil's Ford, 
 
 he had simply gone to Sacramento to 
 borrow money on his share, in order to 
 continue the improvements on his own 
 responsibility. The partners themselves 
 were uncommunicative ; even Whisky 
 Dick, who since his remarkable social ele- 
 vation, had become less oracular, much to 
 his own astonishment, contributed nothing 
 to the gossip except a suggestion that as 
 the fiery temper of George Kearney 
 brooked no opposition, even from his 
 brother, it was better they should separ- 
 ate before the estrangement became 
 serious. 
 
 Mr Carr did not disguise his annoyance 
 at the loss of his young disciple and firm 
 ally. But an unlucky allusion to his 
 previous remarks on Kearney's atten- 
 tions to Jessie, and a querulous regret 
 that he had permitted a disruption of 
 
Devils Ford. 99 
 
 their social intimacy, brought such an 
 ominous and frigid opposition, not only 
 from Christie but even the frivolous 
 Jessie herself, that Carr sank back in 
 a crushed and terrified silence. ' I only 
 meant to say/ he stammered after a pause, 
 in which he, however, resumed his ag- 
 grieved manner, ' that Fairfax seems to 
 come here still, and he is not such a 
 particular friend of mine.' 
 
 ' But he is — and has your interest en- 
 tirely at heart — ! said Jessie stoutly, ' and 
 he only comes here to tell us how things 
 are going on at the works.' 
 
 'And criticise your father, I suppose,' 
 said Mr Carr, with an attempt at jocu- 
 larity that did not, however, disguise an 
 irritated suspiciousness. ' He really seems 
 to have supplanted me as he has poor 
 Kearney in your estimation.' 
 
ioo DeviPs Ford. 
 
 1 Now, father/ said Jessie, suddenly- 
 seizing him by the shoulders in affected 
 indignation, but really to conceal a certain 
 embarrassment that sprang quite as much 
 from her sister's quietly observant eye as 
 her father's speech, ' you promised to 
 let this ridiculous discussion drop. You 
 will make me and Christie so nervous 
 that we will not dare to open the door 
 to a visitor, until he declares his innocence 
 of any matrimonial intentions. You don't 
 want to give colour to the gossip that 
 agreement with your views about the 
 improvements is necessary to getting on 
 with us/ 
 
 1 Who dares talk such rubbish ? ' said 
 Carr, reddening ; ' is that the kind of 
 gossip that Fairfax brings here ? ' 
 
 1 Hardly, when it's known that he don't 
 quite agree with you, and does come 
 
Devtfs Ford, 101 
 
 here. That's the best denial of the 
 gossip.' 
 
 Christie, who had of late loftily ignored 
 these discussions, waited until her father 
 had taken his departure. 
 
 1 Then that is the rea?on why you still 
 see Mr Munroe, after what you said,' she 
 remarked quietly to Jessie. 
 
 Jessie, who would have liked to escape 
 with her father, was obliged to pause on 
 the threshold of the door, with a pretty 
 assumption of blank forgetfulness in her 
 blue eyes and lifted eyebrows. 
 
 1 Said what ? when ? ' she asked va- 
 cantly. 
 
 ' When — when Mr Kearney that day 
 — in the woods — went away,' said Christie, 
 faintly colouring. 
 
 ' Oh ! that day,' said Jessie briskly ; 
 'the day he just gloved your hand with 
 
102 Devils Ford. 
 
 kisses, and then fled wildly into the forest 
 to conceal his emotion.' 
 
 'The day he behaved very foolishly,' 
 said Christie, with reproachful calmness 
 that did not, however, prevent a suspicion 
 of indignant moisture in her eyes, 'when 
 you explained — ' 
 
 ' That it wasn't meant for me? inter- 
 rupted Jessie. 
 
 1 That it was to you that Mr Munroes 
 attentions were directed. And then we 
 agreed that it was better to prevent any 
 further advances of this kind by avoiding 
 any familiar relations with either of them.' 
 
 1 Yes,' said Jessie, ' I remember ; but 
 you're not confounding my seeing Fair- 
 fax occasionally now, with that sort of 
 thing ? He doesn't kiss my hand like any- 
 thing,' she added, as if in abstract re- 
 flection. 
 
Devil's Ford. 103 
 
 1 Nor run away, either,' suggested the 
 trodden worm, turning. 
 
 There was an ominous silence. 
 
 1 Do you know we are nearly out of 
 coffee?' said Jessie, choking, but moving 
 towards the doorwith Spartan-like calmness. 
 
 ' Yes. And something must be done 
 this very day about the washing,' said 
 Christie, with suppressed emotion, going 
 towards the opposite entrance. 
 
 Tears stood in each other's eyes with 
 this terrible exchange of domestic confi- 
 dences. Nevertheless, after a moment's 
 pause, they deliberately turned again, and, 
 facing each other with frightful calmness, 
 left the room by purposeless and deliber- 
 ate exits other than those they had con- 
 templated — a crushing abnegation of self, 
 that, to some extent, relieved their sur- 
 charged feelings. 
 
104 Devil's Ford. 
 
 Meantime the material prosperity of 
 Devil's Ford increased, if a prosperity 
 based upon no visible foundation but the 
 confidence and hopes of its inhabitants 
 could be called material. Few, if any, 
 stopped to consider that the improve- 
 ments, buildings, and business were sim- 
 ply the outlay of capital brought from 
 elsewhere, and as yet the settlement or 
 town, as it was now called, had neither 
 produced nor exported capital of itself 
 equal to half the amount expended. It 
 was true that some land was cultivated 
 on the further slope, some mills erected, 
 and lumber furnished from the inex- 
 haustible forest ; but the consumers were 
 the inhabitants themselves, who paid for 
 their produce in borrowed capital or un- 
 limited credit. It was never discovered 
 that while all roads led to Devil's Ford, 
 
Devus Ford. 105 
 
 Devil's Ford led to nowhere. The diffi- 
 culties overcome in getting things into 
 the settlement were never surmounted for 
 getting things out of it. The lumber was 
 practically valueless for export to other 
 settlements across the mountain roads, 
 which were equally rich in timber. The 
 theory so enthusiastically held by the 
 original locators that Devil's Ford was a 
 vast sink that had, through ages, ex- 
 hausted and absorbed the trickling wealth 
 of the adjacent hills and valleys, was 
 suffering an ironical corroboration. 
 
 One morning it was known that work 
 was stopped at the Devil Ford's Ditch 
 — temporarily only, it was alleged, and 
 many of the old workmen simply had 
 their labour for the present transferred 
 to excavating the river banks, and the 
 collection of vast heaps of ! pay gravel. 
 
106 Devil's Ford. 
 
 Specimens from these mounds, taken from 
 different localities, and at different levels, 
 were sent to San Francisco for more 
 rigid assay and analysis. It was be- 
 lieved that this would establish the fact 
 of the permanent richness of the drifts, 
 and not only justify past expenditure, 
 but a renewed outlay of credit and 
 capital. The suspension of engineering 
 work gave Mr Carr an opportunity to 
 visit San Francisco on general business 
 of the mine, which would not, however, 
 prevent him from arranging further com- 
 binations with capital. His two daugh- 
 ters accompanied him. It offered an 
 admirable opportunity for a shopping 
 expedition, a change of scene, and a 
 peaceful solution of their perplexing and 
 anomalous social relations with Devil's 
 Ford. In the first flush of gratitude to 
 
Devil's Ford. 107 
 
 their father for this opportune holiday, 
 something of harmony had been restored 
 to the family circle than had of late been 
 shaken by discord. 
 
 But their sanguine hopes of enjoyment 
 were not entirely fulfilled. Both Jessie 
 and Christie were obliged to confess to 
 a certain disappointment in the aspect of 
 the civilisation they were now re-enter- 
 ing. They at first attributed it to the 
 change in their own habits during the 
 last three months, and their having be- 
 come barbarous and countrified in their 
 seclusion. Certainly in the matter of 
 dress they were behind the fashions as 
 revealed in Montgomery Street. But 
 when the brief solace afforded them by 
 the modiste and dressmaker was past, 
 there seemed little else to be gained. 
 They missed at first, I fear, the chival- 
 
108 Devils Ford. 
 
 rous and loyal devotion that had only 
 amused them at Devil's Ford, and were 
 the more inclined, I think, to distrust 
 the conscious and more civilised gallantry 
 of the better-dressed and more carefully- 
 presented men they met. For it must 
 be admitted that, for obvious reasons, 
 their criticisms were at first confined to 
 the sex they had been most in contact 
 with. They could not help noticing that 
 the men were more eager, annoyingly 
 feverish, and self-asserting in their superior 
 elegance and external show, than their 
 old associates were in their frank, un- 
 restrained habits. It seemed to them that 
 the five millionaires of Devil's Ford, in their 
 radical simplicity and thoroughness, were 
 perhaps nearer the type of true gentleman- 
 hood than these citizens who imitated a 
 civilisation they were unable yet to reach. 
 
Devil s Ford. 109 
 
 The women simply frightened them, as 
 being, even more than the men, demon- 
 strative and excessive in their fine looks, 
 their fine dresses, their extravagant de- 
 mand for excitement. In less than a 
 week they found themselves regretting — 
 not the new villa on the slope of Devil's 
 Ford, which even in its own bizarre 
 fashion was exceeded by the barbarous 
 ostentation of the villas and private 
 houses around them — but the double 
 cabin under the trees, which now seemed 
 to them almost aristocratic in its grave 
 simplicity and abstention. In the mys- 
 terious forest of masts that thronged the 
 city's quays they recalled the straight 
 shafts of the pines on Devil's slopes, 
 only to miss the sedate repose and in- 
 finite calm that used to environ them. 
 In the feverish, pulsating life of the young 
 
no Devils Ford. 
 
 metropolis they often stopped oppressed, 
 giddy, and choking ; the roar of the 
 streets and thoroughfares was meaning- 
 less to them, except to revive strange 
 memories of the deep unvarying monotone 
 of the evening wind over their humbler 
 roof on the Sierran hillside. Civic bred 
 and nurtured as they were, the recurrence 
 of these sensations perplexed and alarmed 
 them. 
 
 4 It seems so perfectly ridiculous,' said 
 Jessie, * for us to feel as out of place here 
 as that Pike County servant girl in 
 Sacramento who had never seen a steam- 
 boat before ; do you know, I quite had 
 a turn the other day at seeing a man 
 on the Stockton wharf in a red shirt, 
 with a rifle on his shoulder.' 
 . 'And you wanted to go and speak to 
 him ? ' said Christie, with a sad smile. 
 
DeviPs Ford. 1 1 1 
 
 ' No, that's just it ; I felt awfully hurt 
 and injured that he did not come 
 up and speak to me ! I wonder if 
 we got any fever or that sort of 
 thing up there ; it makes one quite 
 superstitious.' 
 
 Christie did not reply ; more than once 
 before she had felt that inexplicable mis- 
 giving. It had sometimes seemed to her 
 that she had never been quite herself 
 since that memorable night when she had 
 slipped out of their sleeping-cabin and 
 stood alone in the gracious and com- 
 manding presence of the woods and hills. 
 In the solitude of night, with the hum of 
 the great city rising below her — at times 
 even in theatres or crowded assemblies 
 of men and women — she forgot herself, 
 and again stood in the weird brilliancy of 
 that moonlight night in mute worship at 
 
1 1 2 Devil's Ford. 
 
 the foot of that slowly-rising mystic altar 
 of piled terraces, hanging forests, and 
 lifted plateaus that climbed for ever to 
 the lonely skies. Again she felt before 
 her the expanding and opening arms of 
 the protecting woods. Had they really 
 closed upon her in some pantheistic em- 
 brace that made her a part of them ? had 
 she been baptised in that moonlight as 
 a child of the great forest ? It was easy 
 to believe in the myths of the poets of 
 an idyllic life under those trees, where, 
 free from conventional restrictions, one 
 loved and was loved. If she, with her 
 own worldly experience, could think of 
 this now, why might not George Kearney 
 have thought ? . . . She stopped, and 
 found herself blushing even in the dark- 
 ness. As the thought and blush were 
 the usual sequel of her reflections, it is 
 
Devil's Ford. 113 
 
 to be feared that they may have been at 
 times the impelling cause. 
 
 Mr Carr, however, made up for his 
 daughters' want of sympathy with metro- 
 politan life. To their astonishment he 
 not only plunged into the fashionable 
 gaieties and amusements of the town, but 
 in dress and manner assumed the role of 
 a leader of a society. The invariable 
 answer to their half-humorous comment 
 was the necessities of the mine, and the 
 policy of frequenting the company of 
 capitalists, to enlist their support and 
 confidence. There was something in this 
 so unlike their father, that what at any 
 other time they would have hailed as a 
 relief to his habitual abstraction, now half 
 alarmed them. Yet he was not dissipated 
 — he did not drink nor gamble. There 
 certainly did not seem any harm in his 
 
 H 
 
H4 DeviCs Ford. 
 
 frequenting the society of ladies, with a 
 gallantry that appeared to be forced and 
 a pleasure that to their critical eyes was 
 certainly apocryphal. He did not drag 
 his daughters into the mixed society of 
 that period ; he did not press upon them 
 the company of those he most frequented, 
 and whose accepted position in that little 
 world of fashion was considered equal to 
 their own. When Jessie strongly objected 
 to the pronounced manners of a certain 
 widow, whose actual present wealth and 
 pecuniary influence condoned for a more 
 uncertain prehistoric past, Mr Carr did 
 not urge a further acquaintance. ' As long 
 as you're not thinking of marrying again, 
 papa,' Jessie had said finally, ' I don't see 
 the necessity of our knowing her.' ' But 
 suppose I were,' had replied Mr Carr, 
 with affected humour. ' Then you cer- 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 1 5 
 
 tainly wouldn't care for any one like her/ 
 his daughter had responded triumphantly. 
 Mr Carr smiled, and dropped the subject, 
 but it is probable that his daughters' want 
 of sympathy with his acquaintances did 
 not in the least interfere with his social 
 prestige. A gentleman in all his relations, 
 and under all circumstances — even his 
 cold scientific abstraction was provocative; 
 rich men envied his lofty ignorance of the 
 smaller details of money-making, even 
 while they mistrusted his judgment. A 
 man still well preserved, and free from 
 weakening vices, he was a dangerous rival 
 to younger and faster San Francisco, in 
 the eyes of the sex, who knew how to 
 value a repose they did not themselves 
 possess. 
 
 Suddenly Mr Carr announced his in- 
 tention of proceeding to Sacramento, on 
 
1 1 6 ' Devil's Ford. 
 
 further business of the mine, leaving his 
 two daughters in the family of a wealthy- 
 friend until he should return for them. 
 He opposed their ready suggestion to 
 return to Devil's Ford with a new and un- 
 necessary inflexibility ; he even met their 
 compromise to accompany him to Sacra- 
 mento with equal decision. 
 
 ' You will only be in my way,' he said 
 curtly. ■ Enjoy yourselves here while you 
 can.' 
 
 Thus left to themselves, they tried to 
 accept his advice. Possibly some slight 
 reaction to their previous disappointment 
 may have already set in ; perhaps they 
 felt any distraction to be a relief to their 
 anxiety about their father. They went 
 out more ; they frequented concerts and 
 parties ; they accepted with their host and 
 his family an invitation to one of those 
 
Devils Ford. 1 1 7 
 
 opulent and barbaric entertainments with 
 which a noted San Francisco millionaire 
 distracted his rare moments of reflection in 
 his gorgeous palace on the hills. Here 
 they would at least be once more in the 
 country they loved, albeit of a milder and 
 less heroic type, and a little degraded by 
 the overlapping tinsel and scattered 
 spangles of the palace. 
 
 It was a three days fete ; the style and 
 choice of amusements left to the guests, 
 and an equal and active participation by no 
 means necessary or indispensable. Conse- 
 quently when Christie and Jessie Carr pro- 
 posed a ride through the adjacent canon on 
 the second morning, they had no difficulty in 
 finding horses in the well-furnished stables 
 of their opulent entertainers, nor cavaliers 
 among the other guests, who were too 
 happy to find favour in the eyes of two 
 
n8 Devil's Ford. 
 
 pretty girls who were supposed to be ab- 
 normally fastidious and refined.* Christie's 
 escort was a good-natured young banker, 
 shrewd enough to avoid demonstrative 
 attentions, and lucky enough to interest 
 her during the ride with his clear and 
 half-humorous reflections on some of the 
 business speculations of the day. If his 
 ideas were occasionally too clever, and not 
 always consistent with a high sense of 
 honour, she was none the less interested to 
 know the ethics of that world of speculation 
 into which her father had plunged, and the 
 more convinced, with a mingled sense of 
 pride and anxiety, that his still dominant 
 gentlemanhood would prevent his coping 
 with it on equal terms. Nor could she 
 help contrasting the conversation of the 
 sharp-witted man at her side, with what 
 she still remembered of the vague, touch- 
 
Devil 1 s Ford. 1 1 9 
 
 ing, boyish enthusiasm of the millionaires 
 of Devil's Ford. Had her escort guessed 
 the result of this contrast, he would hardly 
 have been as gratified as he was with 
 the grave attention of her beautiful 
 eyes. 
 
 The fascination of a gracious day, and 
 the leafy solitude of the canon, led them to 
 prolong their ride beyond the proposed 
 limit, and it became necessary towards sun- 
 set for them to seek some shorter cut 
 home. 
 
 * There's a vaquero in yonder field,' said 
 Christie's escort, who was riding with her 
 a little in advance of the others, 'and 
 those fellows know every trail that a 
 horse can follow. I'll ride on, intercept 
 him, and try my Spanish on him. If I 
 miss him, as he's galloping on, you might 
 try your hand on him yourself. He'll 
 
120 Devil's Ford. 
 
 understand your eyes, Miss Carr, in any 
 language.' 
 
 As he dashed away, to cover his first 
 audacity of compliment, Christie lifted the 
 eyes thus apostrophised to the opposite 
 field. The vaquero, who was chasing some 
 cattle, was evidently too preoccupied to 
 heed the shouts of his companion, and 
 wheeling round suddenly to intercept one 
 of the deviating fugitives, permitted 
 Christie's escort to dash past him before 
 that gentleman could rein in his excited 
 steed. This brought the vaquero directly 
 in her path. Perceiving her, he threw his 
 horse back on its haunches, to prevent 
 a collision. Christie rode up to him, 
 suddenly uttered a cry, and halted. For 
 before her, sunburnt in cheek and throat, 
 darker in the free growth of moustache and 
 curling hair, clad in the coarse, picturesque 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 2 1 
 
 finery of his class, undisguised only in his 
 boyish beauty, sat George Kearney. 
 
 The blood that had forsaken her aston- 
 ished face, rushed as quickly back. His 
 eyes, which had suddenly sparkled with an 
 electrical glow, sank before hers. His 
 hand dropped, and his cheek flushed with 
 a dark embarrassment. 
 
 1 You here, Mr Kearney ? How strange ? 
 — but how glad I am to meet you again.' 
 
 She tried to smile ; her voice trembled, 
 and her little hand shook as she extended 
 it to him. 
 
 He raised his dark eyes quickly, and 
 impulsively urged his horse to her side. 
 But, as if suddenly awakening to the real- 
 ity of the situation, he glanced at her 
 hurriedly, down at his barbaric finery, 
 and threw a searching look towards her 
 escort. 
 
122 Devil's Ford. 
 
 In an instant Christie saw the infelicity 
 of her position, and its dangers. The 
 words of Whisky Dick, ' He wouldn't 
 stand that/ flashed across her mind. 
 There was no time to lose. The banker 
 had already gained control over his horse, 
 and was approaching them, all uncon- 
 scious of the fixed stare with which 
 George was regarding him. Christie 
 hastily seized the hand which he had 
 allowed to fall at his side, and said 
 quickly, — 
 
 1 Will you ride with me a little way, 
 Mr Kearney?' 
 
 He turned the same searching look 
 upon her. She met it clearly and 
 steadily : he even thought reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 ' Do ! ' she said hurriedly. ' I ask it as 
 a favour. I want to speak to you. Jessie 
 
Devil s Ford. 123 
 
 and I are here alone. Father is away. 
 You are one of our oldest friends.' 
 
 He hesitated. She turned to the as- 
 tonished young banker who rode up. 
 
 ' I have just met an old friend. Will 
 you please ride back as quickly as you 
 can, and tell Jessie that Mr Kearney is 
 here, and ask her to join us ? ' 
 
 She watched her dazed escort, still 
 speechless from the spectacle of the fas- 
 tidious Miss Carr tete-a-tete with a com- 
 mon Mexican vaquero, gallop off in the 
 direction of the canon, and then turned to 
 George. 
 
 * Now take me home, the shortest way, 
 as quick as you can/ 
 
 ' Home ? ' echoed George. 
 
 1 I mean to Mr Prince's house. Quick ! 
 before they can come up to us.' 
 
 He mechanically put spurs to his horse ; 
 
124 Devil's Ford. 
 
 she followed. They presently struck into 
 a trail that soon diverged again into a 
 disused logging track through the woods. 
 
 1 This is the short cut to Prince's, by 
 two miles/ he said, as they entered the 
 woods. 
 
 As they were still galloping, without 
 exchanging a word, Christie began to 
 slacken her speed ; George did the same. 
 They were safe from intrusion at the pre- 
 sent, even if the others had found the 
 short cut. Christie, bold and self-reliant 
 a moment ago, suddenly found herself 
 growing weak and embarrassed. What 
 had she done ? 
 
 She checked her horse suddenly. 
 
 4 Perhaps we had better wait for them,' 
 she said timidly. 
 
 George had not raised his eyes to 
 hers. 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 2 5 
 
 1 You said you wanted to hurry home/ 
 he replied gently, passing his hand along 
 his mustang's velvety neck, ' and — and you 
 had something to say to me.' 
 
 * Certainly/ she answered, with a faint 
 laugh, ' I'm so astonished at meeting you 
 here. I'm quite bewildered. You are 
 living here ; you have forsaken us to buy 
 a ranche ? ' she continued, looking at him 
 attentively. 
 
 His brow coloured slightly. 
 
 * No, I'm living here, but I have bought 
 no ranche. I'm only a hired man on 
 somebody else's ranche, to look after the 
 cattle.' 
 
 He saw her beautiful eyes fill with as- 
 tonishment and — something else. His 
 brow cleared ; he went on, with his old 
 boyish laugh. 
 
 * No, Miss Carr. The fact is, I'm dead 
 
1 26 Devil's Ford. 
 
 broke. I've lost everything since I saw 
 you last. But as I know how to ride, and 
 I'm not afraid of work, I manage to keep 
 along.' 
 
 'You have lost money in — in the 
 mines ? • said Christie suddenly. 
 
 ' No — ' he replied quickly, evading 
 her eyes. ' My brother has my interest, 
 you know. I've been foolish on my 
 own account solely. You know I'm 
 rather inclined to that sort of thing. 
 But as long as my folly don't affect 
 others, I can stand it.' 
 
 1 But it may affect others — and they 
 may not think of it as folly.' She 
 stopped short, confused by his brighten- 
 ing colour and eyes — ■ I mean — Oh, Mr 
 Kearney, I want you to be frank with 
 me. I know nothing of business, but 
 I know there has been trouble about 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 2 7 
 
 the mine at Devil's Ford. Tell me 
 honestly, has my father anything to do 
 with it? If I thought that, through 
 any imprudence of his, you had suffered, 
 — if I believed that you could trace 
 any misfortune of yours to him — to us 
 — I should never forgive myself,' — she 
 stopped and flashed a single look at 
 him — ' I should never forgive you for 
 abandoning us.' 
 
 The look of pain which had at first 
 shown itself in his face, which never 
 concealed anything, passed, and a quick 
 smile followed her feminine anticlimax. 
 
 * Miss Can*,' he said, with boyish 
 eagerness, - if any man suggested to me 
 that your father wasn't the brightest 
 and best of his kind, — too wise and 
 clever for the fools about him to under- 
 stand — I'd — I'd shoot him.' 
 
128 Devil's Ford. 
 
 Confused by his ready and gracious 
 disclaimer of what she had not intended 
 to say, there was nothing left for her 
 but to rush upon what she really intended 
 to say, with what she felt was shameful 
 precipitation. 
 
 ' One word more, Mr Kearney,' she 
 began, looking down, but feeling the 
 colour come to her face as she spoke. 
 ' When you spoke to me the day you 
 left, you must have thought me hard 
 and cruel. When I tell you that I 
 thought you were alluding to Jessie, and 
 some feeling you had for her — ' 
 
 ' For Jessie ! ' echoed George. 
 
 'You will understand that — that — ' 
 
 1 That what ? ' said George, drawing 
 nearer to her. 
 
 1 That I was only speaking as she 
 might have spoken had you talked to 
 
Devil's Ford. 129 
 
 her of me,' added Christie hurriedly, 
 slightly backing her horse away from 
 him. 
 
 But this was not so easy, as George 
 was the better rider, and by an imper- 
 ceptible movement of his wrist and foot 
 had glued his horse to her side. ' He 
 will go now,' she had thought, but he 
 didn't. 
 
 1 We must ride on,' she suggested 
 faintly. 
 
 * No,' he said, with a sudden dropping 
 of his boyish manner and a slight lifting 
 of his head. ' We must ride together 
 no further, Miss Carr. I must go back 
 to the work I am hired to do, and you 
 must go on with your party, whom I hear 
 coming. But when we part here you 
 must bid me Good-bye, — not as Jessie's 
 sister — but as Christie — the one — the only 
 
1 30 Devil's Ford. 
 
 woman that I love, or that I have ever 
 loved/ 
 
 He held out his hand. With the re- 
 collection of their previous parting, she 
 tremblingly advanced her own. He took 
 it — but did not raise it to his lips. And 
 it was she who found herself half con- 
 fusedly retaining his hand in hers until 
 she dropped it with a blush. 
 
 1 Then is this the reason you give for 
 deserting us as you have deserted Devil's 
 Ford ? ' she said coldly. 
 
 He lifted his eyes to her with a strange 
 smile and said 'Yes,' wheeled his horse, 
 and disappeared in the forest. 
 
 He had left her thus abruptly once 
 before, kissed, blushing, and indignant. 
 He was leaving her now, unkissed, but 
 white and indignant. Yet she was so 
 self-possessed when the party joined her, 
 
Devil's Ford. 131 
 
 that the singular rencontre, and her 
 explanation of the stranger's sudden 
 departure, excited no further comment. 
 Only Jessie managed to whisper in her 
 ear, — 
 
 ' 1 hope you are satisfied now that 
 it wasn't me he meant ? ' 
 
 ' Not at all/ said Christie coldly. 
 
 K-m, ■'. " • _l^sfe^ ; 
 

 CHAPTER VII, 
 
 FEW days after the girls had 
 returned from San Francisco, 
 they received a letter from 
 their father. His business, he wrote, 
 would detain him in Sacramento some 
 days longer. There was no reason why 
 they should return to Devil's Ford in the 
 heat of the summer ; their host had written 
 to beg him to allow them a more extended 
 visit, and if they were enjoying themselves, 
 he thought it would be well not to dis- 
 oblige an old friend. He had heard they 
 
Devil's Ford. 133 
 
 had a pleasant visit to Mr Prince's place, 
 and that a certain young banker had been , 
 very attentive to Christie. 
 
 1 Do you know what all this means, 
 dear ? ' asked Jessie, who had been watch- 
 ing her sister with an unusually grave 
 face. 
 
 Christie, whose thoughts had wandered 
 from the letter, replied carelessly, — 
 
 1 I suppose it means that we are to wait 
 here until father sends for us.' 
 
 1 It means a good deal more. It means 
 that papa has had another reverse ; it 
 means that the assay has turned out badly 
 for the mine; — that the further they go 
 from the flat the worse it gets; — that all 
 the gold they will probably ever see at 
 Devil's Ford is what they have already 
 found or will find on the flat; it means 
 that all Devil's Ford is only a " pocket," 
 
134 Devil's Ford. 
 
 and not a " lead." ' She stopped, with un- 
 expected tears in her eyes. 
 
 * Who told you this ? ' asked Christie 
 breathlessly. 
 
 1 Fairfax — Mr Munroe/ stammered her 
 sister, ' writes to me as if we already 
 knew it, — tells me not to be alarmed, 
 that it isn't so bad — and all that.' 
 
 * How long has this happened, Jessie"? ' 
 said Christie, taking her hand with a 
 white but calm face. 
 
 ■ Nearly ever since we've been here, I 
 suppose. It must be so, for he says poor 
 papa is still hopeful of doing something yet.' 
 
 1 And Mr Munroe writes to you ? ' said 
 Christie abstractedly. 
 
 ' Of course,' said Jessie quickly. * He 
 feels interested in — us.' 
 
 * Nobody tells me anything,' said 
 Christie. 
 
Devil's Ford. 135 
 
 1 Didn't— ' 
 
 * No,' said Christie bitterly. 
 
 1 What on earth did you talk about ? 
 But people don't confide in you because 
 they're afraid of you. You're so — ' 
 
 ' So what ? ' 
 
 ' So gently patronising, and so " I-don't- 
 suppose - you - can - help-it,-poor-thing," in 
 your general style/ said Jessie, kissing her. 
 ' There ! I only wish I was like you. 
 What do you say if we wrote to father 
 that we'll go back to Devil's Ford ? Mr 
 Munroe thinks we will be of service there 
 just now. If the men are dissatisfied, and 
 think we're spending money — ' 
 
 1 I'm afraid Mr Munroe is hardly a 
 disinterested adviser. At least, I don't 
 think it would look quite decent for you 
 to fly back without your father, at his sug- 
 gestion,' said Christie coldly. ' He is not 
 
136 Devil's Ford. 
 
 the only partner. We are spending no 
 money. Besides, we have engaged to go 
 to Mr Prince's again next week.' 
 
 ' As you like, dear,' said Jessie, turning 
 away to hide a faint smile. 
 
 Nevertheless, when they returned from 
 their visit to Mr Prince's, and one or two 
 uneventful rides, Christie looked grave. 
 It was only a few days later that Jessie 
 burst upon her one morning. 
 
 ■ You were saying that nobody ever 
 tells you anything. Well, here's your 
 chance. Whisky Dick is below.' 
 
 * Whisky Dick ! ' repeated Christie. 
 ' What does he want ? ' 
 
 ' You, love. Who else ? You know 
 he always scorns me as not being high- 
 toned and elegant enough for his social 
 confidences. He asked for you only.' 
 
 With an uneasy sense of some impend- 
 
Devil 's Ford. 137 
 
 ing revelation, Christie descended to the 
 drawing-room. As she opened the door, 
 a strong flavour of that toilet soap and 
 eau de Cologne with which Whisky Dick 
 was in the habit of gracefully effacing the 
 traces of dissipation, made known his 
 presence. In spite of a new suit of 
 clothes, whose pristine folds refused to 
 adapt themselves entirely to the contour 
 of his figure, he was somewhat subdued 
 by the unexpected elegance of the drawing- 
 room of Christie's host. But a glance at 
 Christie's sad but gracious face quickly 
 reassured him. Taking from his hat a 
 three-cornered parcel, he unfolded a hand- 
 some saffrona rose, which he gravely pre- 
 sented to her. Having thus re-established 
 his position, he sank elegantly into a 
 tete-a-t£te ottoman. Finding the position 
 inconvenient to face Christie, who had 
 
138 Devils Ford. 
 
 seated herself on a chair, he transferred 
 himself to the other side of the ottoman, 
 and addressed her over its back as from 
 a pulpit. 
 
 ' Is this really a fortunate accident, Mr 
 Hall, or did you try to find us ? ' said 
 Christie pleasantly. 
 
 ' Partly promiskuss, and partly coinci- 
 dent, Miss Christie, one up and t'other 
 down,' said Dick lightly. ' Work being 
 slack at present at Devil's Ford, I 
 reck'ned I'd take a pasear down to 
 'Frisco, and dip into the vortex o r 
 fash'nable society and out again.' He 
 lightly waved a new handkerchief to illus- 
 trate his swallow-like intrusion. 'This 
 yer minglin' with the ho-tong is apt to 
 be wearisome, ez you and me knows, 
 unless combined with experience and 
 judgment. So when them boys up there 
 
Devil's Ford. 139 
 
 allows that there's a little too much 
 fash'nable society and San Francisco 
 capital and high-falutin' about the future 
 goin' on fer square surface mining, I sez, 
 " Look yere, gentlemen," sez I, "you 
 don't see the pint. The pint is, to get 
 the pop'lar eye fixed, so to speak, on 
 Devil's Ford. When a fash'nable star 
 rises above the 'Frisco horizon — like 
 Miss Carr — and, so to speak, dazzles the 
 giniral eye, people want to know who she 
 is. And when people say that's the ac- 
 complished daughter o' the accomplished 
 superintendent of the Devil's Ford claim 
 — otherwise known as the Star - eyed 
 Goddess o' Devil's Ford — every eye is 
 fixed on the mine, and Capital, so to 
 speak, tumbles to her." And when they 
 sez that the old man — excuse my freedom, 
 but that's the way the boys talk of your 
 
140 Devil's Ford, 
 
 father, meaning no harm — the old man, 
 instead o' trying to corral rich widders — 
 grass or otherwise — to spend their money 
 on the big works for the gold that ain't 
 there yet — should stay in Devil's Ford 
 and put all his sabe and genius into 
 grindin' out the little gold that is there, 
 I sez to them that it ain't your father's 
 style. " His style," sez I, " ez to go in 
 and build them works." When they're 
 done he turns round to Capital, and sez 
 he, — " Look yer," sez he, " thar's all the 
 works you want, first quality — cost a 
 million ; thar's all the water you want, 
 onlimited — cost another million ; thar's 
 all the pay gravel you want in and outer 
 the ground — call it two millions more. 
 Now my time's too vally'ble ; my pro- 
 fession's too high-toned, to work mines. 
 I make 'em. Hand me over a cheque for 
 
Devil's Ford. 141 
 
 ten millions and call it square, and work 
 it for yourself." So Capital hands over 
 the money and waltzes down to run the 
 mine, and you original locators walks round 
 with yer hands in yer pockets a-top of your 
 six million profit, and you let's Capital take 
 the work and the responsibility/ 
 
 Preposterous as this seemed from the 
 lips of Whisky Dick, Christie had a 
 haunting suspicion that it was not greatly 
 unlike the theories expounded by the 
 clever young banker who had been her 
 escort. She did not interrupt his flow 
 of reminiscent criticism ; when he paused 
 for breath, she said quietly, — 
 
 ' I met Mr George Kearney the other 
 day in the country.' 
 
 Whisky Dick stopped awkwardly, 
 glanced hurriedly at Christie, and coughed 
 behind his handkerchief. 
 
142 Devil's Ford. 
 
 ' Mr Kearney — eh — er — certengly — yes 
 — er — met him you say. Was he — er — er 
 —well?' 
 
 1 In health, yes ; but otherwise he has 
 lost everything/ said Christie, fixing her 
 eyes on the embarrassed Dick. 
 
 1 Yes — er — in course — in course — ' con- 
 tinued Dick, nervously glancing round the 
 apartment as if endeavouring to find an 
 opening to some less abrupt statement of 
 the fact. 
 
 ' And actually reduced to take some 
 menial employment/ added Christie, still 
 regarding Dick with her clear glance. 
 
 * That's it — that's just it/ said Dick, 
 beaming as he suddenly found his delicate 
 and confidential opportunity. ' That's it, 
 Miss Christie ; that's just what I was 
 sayin' to the boys. " Ez it the square 
 thing," sez I, "just because George hez 
 
Devil's Ford. 143 
 
 happened to hypothecate every dollar he 
 has, or expects to hev, to put into them 
 works, only to please Mr Carr, and just 
 because he don't want to distress that 
 intelligent gentleman by letting him see 
 he's dead broke — for him to go and 
 demean himself and Devil's Ford by 
 rushing away and hiring out as a Mexican 
 vaquero on Mexican wages ? Look," sez 
 I, "at the disgrace he brings upon a high- 
 toned, fash'nable girl, at whose side he's 
 walked and danced and passed rings, and 
 sentiments, and bokays in the changes o' 
 the cotillion and the mizzourka. And 
 wot," sez I, "if some day, prancing along 
 in a fash'nable cavalcade, she all of a sud- 
 dents comes across him drivin' a Mexican 
 steer ? " That's what I said to the boys. 
 And so you met him, Miss Christie, as 
 usual,' continued Dick, endeavouring, 
 
144 Devil's Ford. 
 
 under the appearance of a large social 
 experience, to conceal an eager anxiety to 
 know the details, ' so you met him ; and, 
 in course, you didn't let on yer knew 
 him, so to speak, nat' rally, or p'raps you 
 kinder like asked him to fix your saddle- 
 girth, and give him a five-dollar piece — 
 eh?' 
 
 Christie, who had risen and gone to the 
 window, suddenly turned a very pale face 
 and shining eyes on Dick. 
 
 4 Mr Hall,' she said, with a faint attempt 
 at a smile, ' we are old friends, and I feel I 
 can ask you a favour. You once before 
 acted as our escort — it was for a short but 
 a happy time — will you accept a larger 
 trust ? My father is busy in Sacramento 
 for the mine ; will you, without saying 
 anything to anybody, take Jessie and me 
 back at once to Devil's Ford ? ' 
 
Devil's Ford. 145 
 
 'Will I? Miss Christie/ said Dick, 
 choking between an intense gratification 
 and a desire to keep back its vulgar ex- 
 hibition, ' I shall be proud ! ' 
 
 'When I say keep it a secret' — she 
 hesitated, — ' I don't mean that I object 
 to your letting Mr Kearney, if you 
 happen to know where he is, under- 
 stand that we are going back to Devil's 
 Ford.' 
 
 ' Cert'nly — nat'rally,' said Dick, waving 
 his hand gracefully ; ' sorter drop him a 
 line, saying that bizness of a social and 
 delicate nature — being the escort of Miss 
 Christie and Jessie Carr to Devil's Ford 
 — prevents my having the pleasure of 
 calling.' 
 
 'That will do very well, Mr Hall,' said 
 Christie, faintly smiling through her moist 
 eyelashes. ' Then will you go at once 
 K 
 
1 46 Devil's Ford. 
 
 and secure tickets for to-night's boat and 
 bring them here. Jessie and I will ar- 
 range everything else.' 
 
 ' Cert'nly,' said Dick impulsively, and 
 preparing to take a graceful leave. 
 
 ' We'll be impatient until you return 
 with the tickets,' said Christie graci- 
 ously. 
 
 Dick shook hands gravely, got as far as 
 the door, and paused. 
 
 ' You think it better to take the tickets 
 now ? ' he said dubiously. 
 
 ' By all means,' said Christie impetu- 
 ously. ' I've set my heart on going 
 to-night — and unless you secure berths 
 early — ' 
 
 'In course — in course,' interrupted Dick 
 nervously. ' Bat — ' 
 
 1 But what ? ' said Christie impatiently. 
 
 Dick hesitated, shut the door care- 
 
Devil's Ford. 147 
 
 fully, and, looking round the room, 
 lightly shook out his handkerchief, 
 apparently flicked away an embarrass- 
 ing suggestion, and said, with a little 
 laugh,— 
 
 ' It's ridiklous, perfectly ridiklous, Miss 
 Christie ; but not bein' in the habit of 
 carryin' ready money, and havin' omitted 
 to cash a draft on Walls, Fargo & 
 Co.— ' 
 
 ' Of course,' said Christie rapidly. 
 ' How forgetful I am. Pray forgive me, 
 Mr Hall. I didn't think. I'll run up 
 and get it from our host; he will be glad 
 to be our banker.' 
 
 ' One moment, Miss Christie,' said Dick 
 lightly, as his thumb and finger relaxed in 
 his waistcoat pocket over the only piece 
 of money in the world that had remained 
 to him after his extravagant purchase of 
 
148 Devil's Ford. 
 
 Christie's saffrona rose, ' one moment ; 
 in this yer monetary transaction, if you 
 like, you are at liberty to use my 
 
 name/ 
 
CHAPTER VIII, 
 
 S Christie and Jessie Carr looked 
 from the windows of the coach 
 whose dust-clogged wheels were 
 slowly dragging them, as if reluctant, 
 nearer the last stage of their journey to 
 Devil's Ford, they were conscious of 
 a change in the landscape, which they 
 could not entirely charge upon their 
 changed feelings. The few bared open 
 spaces on the upland, the long stretch 
 of rocky ridge near the summit, so vivid 
 and so velvety during their first journey, 
 
150 Devil's Ford. 
 
 were now burnt and yellow ; even the 
 brief openings in the forest were seared 
 as if by a hot iron in the scorching rays 
 of a half year's sun. The pastoral slopes 
 of the valley below were cloaked in 
 lustreless leather ; the rare water-courses 
 along the road had faded from the wait- 
 ing eye and ear ; it seemed as if the 
 long and dry summer had even invaded 
 the close set ranks of pines, and had 
 blown a simoon breath through the dens- 
 est woods, leaving its charred red ashes 
 on every leaf and spray along the tun- 
 nelled shade. As they leaned out of 
 the window and inhaled the half-dead 
 spices of the evergreens, they seemed 
 to have entered the atmosphere of some 
 exhausted passion — of some fierce excite- 
 ment that was even now slowly burning 
 itself out. 
 
Devil's Ford. 151 
 
 It was a relief at last to see the strag- 
 gling houses of Devil's Ford far below 
 come once more into view as they rounded 
 the shoulder of Devil's Spur and began the 
 long descent. But as they entered the 
 town a change more ominous and startling 
 than the desiccation of the landscape forced 
 itself upon them. The town was still 
 there, but where were the inhabitants ? 
 Four months ago they had left the strag- 
 gling street thronged with busy citizens, — 
 groups at every corner, and a chaos of 
 merchandise and traders in ths open plaza 
 or square beside the Presbyterian church. 
 Now all was changed. Only a few way- 
 farers lifted their heads lazily as the 
 coach rattled by, crossing the deserted 
 square littered with empty boxes and 
 gliding past empty cabins or vacant shop 
 windows, from which not only familiar 
 
152 Devil s Ford. 
 
 faces but even the window sashes them- 
 selves were gone. The great unfinished 
 serpent-like flume crossing the river on 
 gigantic trestles had advanced as far as the 
 town, stooping over it like some enormous 
 reptile that had sucked its life blood and 
 was gorged with its prey. 
 
 Whisky Dick, who had left the stage 
 on the summit to avail himself of a shorter 
 foot trail to the house that would give him 
 half-an-hour's grace to make preparations, 
 met them at the stage office with a buggy. 
 A glance at the young girls, perhaps, con- 
 vinced him that the graces of elegant 
 worldly conversation were out of place with 
 the revelation he read on their faces. Per- 
 haps he, too, was a trifle indisposed. The 
 short journey to the house was made in 
 profound silence. 
 
 The villa had been repainted and 
 
Devil's Ford. 153 
 
 decorated, and it looked fresher, and even, 
 to their preoccupied minds, appeared more 
 attractive than ever. Thoughtful hands 
 had taken care of the vines and rose 
 bushes on the trellises ; water — that 
 precious element in Devil's Ford — had 
 not been spared in keeping green through 
 the long drought the plants which the 
 girls had so tenderly nurtured. It was 
 the one oasis in which the summer still 
 lingered ; and yet a singular sense of 
 loss came over the girls as they once 
 more crossed its threshold. It seemed 
 no longer their own. 
 
 ' Ef I was you, Miss Christie, I'd keep 
 close to the house for a day or two, until 
 — until — things is settled,' said Dick ; 
 ' there's a heap o' tramps and sich cattle 
 trapsin' round. P'raps you wouldn't 
 feel so lonesome if you was nearer town 
 
154 Devil's Ford. 
 
 — for instance, 'bout wher' you uster 
 live.' 
 
 ' In the dear old cabin,' said Christie 
 quickly ; * I remember it : I wish we were 
 there now.' 
 
 \ Do you really ? Do you ? ' said 
 Whisky Dick, with suddenly twinkling 
 eyes. ' That's like you to say it. That's 
 what I alius said,' continued Dick, ad- 
 dressing space generally ; ' if there's any 
 one ez knows how to come square down to 
 the bottom rock without flinchin', it's your 
 high-toned, fash'nable gals. But I must 
 meander back to town and let the boys 
 know you're in possession safe and sound. 
 It's right mean that Fairfax and Mattingly 
 had to go down to Lagrange on some low 
 business yesterday, but they'll be back to- 
 morrow. So long.' 
 
 Left alone, the girls began to realise 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 5 5 
 
 their strange position. They had con- 
 ceived no settled plan. The night they 
 left San Francisco they had written an 
 earnest letter to their father, telling him 
 that on learning the truth about the 
 reverses of Devil's Ford, they thought it 
 their duty to return and share them with 
 others, without obliging him to prefer the 
 request, and with as little worry to him 
 as possible. He would find then ready 
 to share his trials, and in what must be 
 the scene of their work hereafter. 
 
 ' It will bring father back,' said Christie ; 
 ' he won't leave us here alone ; and then 
 together we must come to some under- 
 standing with him — with them — for some- 
 how I feel as if this house belonged to us 
 no longer/ 
 
 Her surmise was not far wrong. When 
 Mr Carr arrived hurriedly from Sacra- 
 
156 Devil's Ford. 
 
 mento the next evening, he found the 
 house deserted. His daughters were 
 gone ; there were indications that they 
 had arrived, and, for some reason, sud- 
 denly departed. The vague fear that 
 had haunted his guilty soul after receiv- 
 ing their letter, and during his breathless 
 journey, now seemed to be realised. He 
 was turning from the empty house, whose 
 reproachful solitude frightened him, when 
 he was confronted on the threshold by 
 the figure of Fairfax Munroe. 
 
 * I came to the stage office to meet you,' 
 he said ; g you must have left the stage at 
 the summit.' 
 
 1 I did,' said Carr angrily. ' I was 
 anxious to meet my daughters quickly, 
 to know the reason of their foolish alarm 
 and to know also who had been frighten- 
 ing them. Where are they ? ' 
 
Devil's Ford. 157 
 
 1 They are safe in the old cabin beyond, 
 that has been put up ready to receive 
 them again,' said Fairfax quietly. 
 
 ' But what is the meaning of this ? 
 Why are they not here ? ' demanded 
 Carr, hiding his agitation in a burst of 
 querulous rage. 
 
 ' Do you ask, Mr Carr?' said Fairfax 
 sadly. \ Did you expect them to remain 
 here until the sheriff took possession ? 
 No one knows better than yourself that 
 the money advanced you on the deeds 
 of this homestead has never been repaid.' 
 
 Carr staggered, but recovered himself 
 with feeble violence. 
 
 1 Since you know so much of my affairs, 
 how do you know that this claim will 
 ever be pressed for payment ? How do 
 you know it is not the advance of a — a 
 —friend ? ! 
 
158 Devil's Ford. 
 
 ' Because I have seen the woman who 
 advanced it,' said Fairfax hopelessly. 
 ' She was here to look at the property 
 before your daughters came.' 
 
 * Well ? ' said Carr nervously. 
 
 1 Well ! You force me to tell you some- 
 thing I should like to forget. You force 
 me to anticipate a disclosure I expected 
 to make to you only when I came to ask 
 permission to woo your daughter Jessie ; 
 and when I tell you what it is, you will 
 understand that I have no right to criti- 
 cise your conduct. I am only explaining 
 my own.' 
 
 * Go on,' said Carr impatiently. 
 'When I first came to this country, 
 
 there was a woman I loved passionately. 
 She treated me as women of her kind 
 only treat men like me, she ruined me, 
 and left me. That was four years ago. 
 
DeviPs Ford. 159 
 
 I love your daughter, Mr Carr, but she 
 has never heard it from my lips. I would 
 not woo her until I had told you all. I 
 have tried to do it ere this, and failed. 
 Perhaps I should not now, but — ' 
 
 ' But what ? ' said Carr furiously ; 
 ' speak out ! ' 
 
 ' But this. Look ! ' said Fairfax, pro- 
 ducing from his pocket the packet of 
 letters Jessie had found ; ' perhaps you 
 know the handwriting ? ' 
 
 1 What do you mean ? ' gasped Carr. 
 
 1 That woman — my mistress — is the 
 woman who advanced you money, and 
 who claims this house.' 
 
 The interview, and whatever came of 
 it, remained a secret with the two men. 
 When Mr Carr accepted the hospitality 
 of the old cabin again, it was understood 
 
1 60 Devil's Ford. 
 
 that he had sacrificed the new house and 
 its furniture to some of the more pressing 
 debts of the mine, and the act went far 
 to restore his waning popularity. But a 
 more genuine feeling of relief was ex- 
 perienced by Devil's Ford when it was 
 rumoured that Fairfax Munroe had asked 
 for the hand of Jessie Carr, and that some 
 promise, contingent upon the equitable ad- 
 justment of the affairs of the mine, had 
 been given by Mr Carr. To the super- 
 stitious mind of Devil's Ford and its few 
 remaining locators, this new partnership 
 seemed to promise that unity of interest 
 and stability of fortune that Devil's Ford 
 had lacked. But nothing could be done 
 until the racing season had set fairly in ; 
 until the long-looked-for element that was 
 to magically separate the gold from the 
 dross in those dull mounds of dust and 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 6 1 
 
 gravel, had come of its own free will, 
 and in its own appointed channels, in- 
 dependent of the feeble auxiliaries that 
 had hopelessly riven the rocks on the 
 hillside, or hung incomplete and un- 
 finished in lofty scaffoldings above the 
 settlement. 
 
 The rainy season came early. At first 
 in gathered mists on the higher peaks 
 that were lifted in the morning sun only 
 to show a fresher field of dazzling white 
 below ; in white clouds that at first seemed 
 to be mere drifts blown across from those 
 fresh snowfields, and obscuring the clear 
 blue above ; in far-oft murmurs in the 
 hollow hills and gulches ; in nearer tink- 
 ling melody and baby prattling in the 
 leaves. It came with bright flashes of 
 sunlight by day, with deep, monotonous 
 shadow at night ; with the onset of heavy 
 
1 62 Devil's Ford. 
 
 winds, the roar of turbulent woods, the 
 tumultuous tossing of leafy arms, and with 
 what seemed the silent dissolution of the 
 whole landscape in days of steady and 
 uninterrupted downfall. It came extrava- 
 gantly, for every canon had grown into a 
 torrent, every gulch a waterspout, every 
 water-course a river, and all pouring into 
 tne North Fork, that rushing past the 
 settlement seemed to threaten it with 
 lifted crest and flying mane. It came 
 dangerously, for one night the river, leap- 
 ing the feeble barrier of Devil's Ford, 
 swept away houses and banks, scattered 
 with unconscious irony the laboriously 
 collected heaps of gravel left for hy- 
 draulic machinery, and spread out a 
 vast and silent lake across the submerged 
 flat. 
 
 In the hurry and confusion of that 
 
Devil's Ford. 163 
 
 night, the girls had thrown open their 
 cabin to the escaping miners, who hurried 
 along the slope that was now the bank 
 of the river. Suddenly Christie felt her 
 arm grasped, and she was half led, half 
 dragged into the inner room. Her father 
 stood before her. 
 
 ' Where is George Kearney ? ' he asked 
 tremulously. 
 
 ' George Kearney ! ' echoed Christie, 
 for a moment believing the excitement 
 had turned her father's brain ; ' you 
 know he is not here, he is in San 
 Francisco.' 
 
 ' He is here — I tell you/ said Carr im- 
 patiently ; ' he has been here ever since 
 the high water, trying to save the flume 
 and reservoir.' 
 
 ' George — here ! ' Christie could only 
 gasp. 
 
164 Devil's Ford. 
 
 ■ Yes! He passed here a few moments 
 ago, to see if you were all safe, and he 
 has gone on towards the flume. But 
 what he is trying to do is madness. If 
 you see him, implore him to do no more. 
 Let him abandon the accursed flume to 
 its fate. It has worked already too 
 much woe upon us all ; why should 
 it carry his brave and youthful soul down 
 with it ? ' 
 
 The words were still ringing in her 
 ears, when he suddenly passed away 
 with the hurrying crowd. Scarcely 
 knowing what she did, she ran out, 
 vaguely intent only on one thought, 
 seeking only the one face lately so 
 dear in recollection that she felt she 
 would die if she never saw it again. 
 Perplexed by confused voices in the 
 woods, she lost track of the crowd, 
 
Devil's Ford. 165 
 
 until the voices suddenly were raised in 
 one loud outcry, followed by the crash- 
 ing of timber, the splashing of water, 
 a silence, and then a dull, continuous 
 roar. She ran vaguely on in the direc- 
 tion of the reservoir, with her fathers 
 injunction still in her mind, until a ter- 
 rible idea displaced it, and she turned 
 at right angles suddenly, and ran towards 
 the slope leading down to the submerged 
 flat. She had barely left the shelter of 
 the trees behind her, before the roar of 
 water seemed to rise at her very feet 
 She stopped, dazed, bewildered, and hor- 
 ror-stricken, on the edge of the slope. It 
 was the slope no longer, but the, bank of 
 the river itself! 
 
 Even in the grey light of early morn- 
 ing, and with inexperienced eyes, she 
 saw all too clearly now. The trestle 
 
1 66 Devil's Ford. 
 
 work had given way ; the curving mile 
 of flume fallen into the stream, and, 
 crushed and dammed against the op- 
 posite shore, had absolutely turned the 
 whole river through the half - finished 
 ditch and partly excavated mine in its 
 way, a few rods further on to join the 
 old familiar channel. The bank of the 
 river was changed ; the flat had become 
 an island, between which and the slope 
 where she stood the North Fork was 
 rolling its resistless yellow torrent. As 
 she gazed spell-bound, a portion of the 
 slope beneath her suddenly seemed to 
 sink and crumble, and was swallowed up 
 in the rushing stream. She heard a cry 
 of warning behind her, but, rooted to 
 the spot by a fearful fascination, she 
 heeded it not. Again there was a 
 sudden disruption, and another part of 
 
Devil's Ford. 167 
 
 the slope sank to rise no more ; but this 
 time she felt herself seized by the waist 
 and dragged back. It was her father 
 standing by her side. 
 
 He was flushed and excited, gaz- 
 ing at the water with a strange ex- 
 ultation. 
 
 ' Do you see it ? Do you know what 
 has happened ? ' he asked quickly. 
 
 ' The flume has fallen and turned 
 the river,' said Christie hurriedly. 
 ' But — you have seen him — is he 
 safe ? ' 
 
 1 He — who ? ' he answered vacantly. 
 
 1 George Kearney ! ' 
 
 ' He is safe,' he said impatiently. ' But, 
 do you see, Christie, do you know what 
 this means ? ' 
 
 He pointed with his tremulous hand to 
 the stream before him. 
 
1 68 Devus Ford. 
 
 1 It means we are ruined,' said Christie 
 coldly. 
 
 ' Nothing of the kind ! It means that 
 the river is doing the work of the flume. 
 It is sluicing off the gravel, deepening 
 the ditch, and altering the slope which 
 was the old bend of the river. It will 
 do in ten minutes the work that would 
 take us a year. If we can stop it in 
 time, or control it, we are safe ; but if 
 we cannot, it will carry away the bed 
 deposit with the rest, and we are ruined 
 again.' 
 
 With a gesture of impotent fury, he 
 dashed away in the direction of an 
 equally excited crowd, that on a point 
 of the slope nearer the island were ges- 
 ticulating and shouting to a second group 
 of men, who on the opposite shore were 
 clambering on over the choked debris 
 
Devil's Ford. 169 
 
 of the flume that had dammed and 
 diverted the current. It was evident 
 that the same idea had occurred to 
 them, and they were risking their lives 
 in the attempt to set free the impedi- 
 ments. Shocked and indignant as Christie 
 had been at the degrading absorption of 
 material interests at such a moment, the 
 element of danger lifted the labours of 
 these men into heroism, and she began 
 to feel a strange exultation as she watched 
 them. Under the skilful blows of their 
 axes, in a few moments the vast body 
 of drift began to disintegrate, and then 
 to swing round and move towards the 
 old channel. A cheer went up, but as 
 suddenly died away again. An over- 
 lapping fringe of wreckage had caught 
 on the point of the island, and arrested 
 the whole mass. 
 
1 70 Devil's Ford. 
 
 The men who had gained the shore 
 with difficulty looked back with a cry of 
 despair. But the next moment from 
 among them leaped a figure, alert, buoyant, 
 invincible, and, axe in hand, once more 
 essayed the passage. Springing from 
 timber to timber he at last reached the 
 point of obstruction. A few strokes of 
 the axe were sufficient to clear it ; but 
 at the first stroke it was apparent that 
 the striker was also loosing his hold 
 upon the shore, and that he must in- 
 evitably be carried away with the toss- 
 ng ddbris. But this consideration did 
 not seem to affect him ; the last blow 
 was struck, and as the freed timbers 
 rolled on over and over, he boldly 
 plunged into the flood. Christie gave 
 a little cry — her heart had bounded 
 with him ; it seemed as if his plunge 
 
Devil's Ford. 1 7 1 
 
 had splashed the water in her eyes. 
 He did not come to the surface until 
 he had passed the point below where 
 her father stood, and then struggling 
 feebly, as if stunned or disabled by a 
 blow. It seemed to her that he was 
 trying to approach the side of the 
 river where she was. Would he do 
 it ? Could she help him ? She was 
 alone ; he was hidden from the view 
 of the men on the point, and no succour 
 could come from them. There was a 
 fringe of alder nearly opposite their 
 cabin that almost overhung the stream. 
 She ran to it, clutched it with a frantic 
 hand, and leaning over the boiling water, 
 uttered for the first time his name. 
 
 1 George ! ' 
 
 As if called to the surface by the 
 magic of her voice, he rose a few 
 
172 Devil's Forci. 
 
 yards from her in mid current, and 
 turned his fading eyes towards the 
 bank. In another moment he would 
 have been swept beyond her reach, but 
 with a supreme effort he turned on one 
 side, the current striking him sideways, 
 threw him towards the bank, and she 
 caught him by his sleeve. For an instant 
 it seemed as if she would be dragged 
 down with him. For one dangerous 
 moment she did not care, and almost 
 yielded to the spell ; but as the rush 
 of water pressed him against the bank, 
 she recovered herself, and managed to 
 lift him beyond its reach. And then 
 she sat down half fainting, with his 
 white face and damp curls upon her 
 breast. 
 
 1 George, darling, speak to me ! Only 
 one word ! Tell me have I saved you ? ' 
 
Devil's Ford. 173 
 
 His eyes opened. A faint twinkle of 
 the old days came to them — a boyish 
 smile played upon his lips. 
 
 ' For yourself — or Jessie ? ' 
 
 She looked around her with a little 
 frightened air. They were alone. There 
 was but one way of sealing those mis- 
 chievous lips, and she found it ! 
 
 * That's what I alius said, gentle- 
 men,' lazily remarked Whisky Dick, a 
 few weeks later, leaning back against 
 the bar, with his glass in his hand ; 
 'George,' sez I, 'it ain't what you 
 say to a fash'nable, high-toned young 
 lady — it's what you does ez makes 
 or breaks you. And that's what I sez 
 gin'rally o' things in the Ford. It 
 ain't what Carr and you boys allows to 
 
1 74 Devil's Ford. 
 
 do — it's the gin'ral average o' things ez 
 iz done that gives tone to the hull, and 
 hez brought this yer new luck to you 
 all!' 
 
 THE END. 
 
 COLSTON AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. 
 
SING AND SPEAK WELL. 
 
 Render the Voice Melodious, Strong, 
 and Clear f or H 'ours ^without Fatigue. 
 
 The wear and tear that Pub- 
 lic Speakers and Vocalists are 
 subjected to is removed, and 
 strength and purity of voice 
 are retained as rich and melo- 
 dious in after-life as they may 
 have exhibited at the onset of 
 their career. These delightfully- 
 flavoured lozenges may be ad- 
 ministered to the youngest child 
 ad libitum, and do not disorder 
 the head, stomach, or bowels. 
 JENNY LIND.— " I have much pleasure in confirming, as far as my experience 
 extends, the testimony already so general in favour of the (Miles Doughty's) 
 Lozenges prepared by you." 
 
 See Testimonials also from Signor Tommaso Salvini (Tragedian), Theatre 
 Royal, Drury Lane ; Heir Theodor Wachtel, Sir Michael Costa, Sir William 
 Sterndale Bennett, and upwards of five thousand others. The Lozenges are 
 sold by all Chemists. Boxes, 6d., Is., 2s. 6d., 5s.. and lis., or post free, 
 7d., Is. 2d., 2s. 9d., 5s. 4d., and lis. 6d. ; and by the Proprietors, 
 
 F. NEWBERY & SONS, 
 
 1 KING EDWARD STREET, Newgate Street, LONDON, E.C. 
 
 YE OLD ENGLYSSGHE "CHERRYE" TOOTH PASTE 
 
 (Trade Mark Registered), 
 An Elegant Toilet Requisite, imparting a delightful fragrance to the breath. 
 The cover of the porcelain box forms a tasteful pictorial souvenir of Old 
 London in the Health Exhibition of 1884. 
 Post free Is. 3d. , or may be ordered of any Chemist. 
 
 F. NEWBERY & SONS (Established 1746), 
 1 KING EDWARD STREET, Newgate Street, LONDON, E.C. 
 
 J. J. BELL & SONS 1 SECRETE OIL FOR THE HAIR. 
 
 (Registered under the Trade Marks Act, 1875). 
 
 (ESTABLISHED UPWARDS OF 40 TEARS). 
 
 Effectually promotes the growth and beauty of the Hair, and by exerting 
 vigorous action in the capillary vessels prevents its falling, or becoming 
 grey. It contains nothing but what is beneficial to the Preservation of the 
 Hair. The modern fashion of applying to the Hair thin and (literally) 
 watery washes, which have frequently been proved to contain admixtures of 
 lead or other objectionable ingredients, is pernicious and injurious to an 
 extent frequently unsuspected. "BELL'S SECRETE OIL" is neither a 
 11 Dye" nor a " Wash," but merely a superior " Hair Oil," and probably no 
 better, cleaner, or purer combination for general use has ever been discovered. 
 
 Of Chemists and Perfumers, per bottle, Is., 2s., and 5s. 
 
 Post free, carefully packed, for Is. 3d., 2s. 3d,, or 5s. 3d., from the Sole 
 Proprietors, 
 
 F. NEWBERY & SONS, 
 
 1 KING EDWARD STREET, Newgate Street, LONDON, E.O. 
 (Established a. d. 1746.) 
 
v PSIU5 
 1$%7