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Page 37
"You bet," said a surly but decided voice in the crowd.
"And," said another voice, "Mrs. Price didn't live in 'Bleeding
Kansas' for nothing."
"Wot's the programme you've settled on, Uncle Jim?" said the
barkeeper lightly, to check what seemed to promise a dangerous
discussion.
"Well," said Starbuck, "we kalkilate to gather early Christmas
night in Hooper's Hollow and rig ourselves up Injun fashion, and
then start for Spindler's with pitch-pine torches, and have a
'torchlight dance' around the house; them who does the dancin' and
yellin' outside takin' their turn at goin' in and hevin' refreshment.
Jake Cooledge, of Boston, sez if anybody objects to it, we've only
got to say we're 'Mummers of the Olden Times,' sabe? Then, later,
we'll have 'Them Sabbath Evening Bells' performed on prospectin'
pans by the band. Then, at the finish, Jake Cooledge is goin' to
give one of his surkastic speeches,--kinder welcomin' Spindler's
family to the Free Openin' o' Spindler's Almshouse and Reformatory."
He paused, possibly for that approbation which, however, did not
seem to come spontaneously. "It ain't much," he added apologetically,
"for we're hampered by women; but we'll add to the programme ez we
see how things pan out. Ye see, from what we can hear, all of
Spindler's relations ain't on hand yet! We've got to wait, like in
elckshun times, for 'returns from the back counties.' Hello! What's
that?"
It was the swish and splutter of hoofs on the road before the door.
The Sacramento coach! In an instant every man was expectant, and
Starbuck darted outside on the platform. Then there was the usual
greeting and bustle, the hurried ingress of thirsty passengers into
the saloon, and a pause. Uncle Jim returned, excitedly and
pantingly. "Look yer, boys! Ef this ain't the richest thing out!
They say there's two more relations o' Spindler's on the coach,
come down as express freight, consigned,--d'ye hear?--consigned to
Spindler!"
"Stiffs, in coffins?" suggested an eager voice.
"I didn't get to hear more. But here they are."
There was the sudden irruption of a laughing, curious crowd into
the bar-room, led by Yuba Bill, the driver. Then the crowd parted,
and out of their midst stepped two children, a boy and a girl, the
oldest apparently of not more than six years, holding each other's
hands. They were coarsely yet cleanly dressed, and with a certain
uniform precision that suggested formal charity. But more
remarkable than all, around the neck of each was a little steel
chain, from which depended the regular check and label of the
powerful Express Company, Wells; Fargo & Co., and the words: "To
Richard Spindler." "Fragile." "With great care." "Collect on
delivery." Occasionally their little hands went up automatically
and touched their labels, as if to show them. They surveyed the
crowd, the floor, the gilded bar, and Yuba Bill without fear and
without wonder. There was a pathetic suggestion that they were
accustomed to this observation.
"Now, Bobby," said Yuba Bill, leaning back against the bar, with an
air half-paternal, half-managerial, "tell these gents how you came
here."
"By Wellth, Fargoth Expreth," lisped Bobby.
"Whar from?"
"Wed Hill, Owegon."
"Red Hill, Oregon? Why, it's a thousand miles from here," said a
bystander.
"I reckon," said Yuba Bill coolly, "they kem by stage to Portland,
by steamer to 'Frisco, steamer again to Stockton, and then by stage
over the whole line. Allers by Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express, from
agent to agent, and from messenger to messenger. Fact! They ain't
bin tetched or handled by any one but the Kempany's agents; they
ain't had a line or direction except them checks around their necks!
And they've wanted for nothin' else. Why, I've carried heaps o'
treasure before, gentlemen, and once a hundred thousand dollars in
greenbacks, but I never carried anythin' that was watched and
guarded as them kids! Why, the division inspector at Stockton
wanted to go with 'em over the line; but Jim Bracy, the messenger,
said he'd call it a reflection on himself and resign, ef they
didn't give 'em to him with the other packages! Ye had a pretty
good time, Bobby, didn't ye? Plenty to eat and drink, eh?"
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