“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?”
The two children laughed a little weak laugh, turned each other bashfully around, and then looked up shyly at Yuba Bill and said, “Yeth.”
“Do you know where you are goin'?” asked Starbuck, in a constrained voice.
It was the little girl who answered quickly and eagerly:—
“Yes, to Krissmass and Sandy Claus.”
“To what?” asked Starbuck.
Here the boy interposed with a superior air:—
“Thee meanth Couthin Dick. He'th got Krithmath.”