The boy seated himself upon the box and rubbed his eyes and scratched his head to satisfy himself ’twas not all a dream. He said to himself:
“Now here is an opportunity come to me that I never dreamed or thought of before. Is it my destiny? Now shall I be a good little boy, take back the box and tell ’em that I only done it for fun, or shall I keep on jest as them bank cashiers and other fellers do sometimes, and make the most of such opportunities that come without huntin’ for um?”
He concluded that if it was only done for a joke, he had carried it a little too far, but if it was done in dead earnest, he hadn’t quite finished the job. While thus meditating between the two opposite courses and upon the future possibilities, he finally decided that he would finish the job, and adopt the profession of a road agent, conscious of the ability to make it a complete success, and even rival Black Bart himself in the profession of a stage inspector. He also thought how he could jest make Jime Hume hump himself a-trying to follow his trail.
The boy was, perhaps, justified in this conclusion by what he had accomplished with the aid of a single picket, and therefore judged of what he might be able to do if backed by an entire fence. With such thoughts running through his mind, and which, no doubt, he had acquired from the perusal of certain papers published exclusively for the benefit of such boys, giving very graphic accounts of the exploits of “Three-Fingered Jack,” “The Bandit’s Bride,” as well as others of a similar character, and with such bright visions of future notoriety looming up before him, he wrestled with the treasure box for a few minutes, the latter soon looking as though it had been chasing a cyclone, and had caught it. By means of a big rock he had turned the box wrong side out, and the golden coin was scattered about among the grass, glistening in the starlight. But unfortunately for our infant hero his career was short, and for the same reasons, perhaps, that other great enterprises often end in failure; he had engaged in a profession that he had not the capacity, experience, or the necessary qualities to fill, and it therefore ended by his being locked up.
It was about the year ’66 that an Irishman drove ahead of him into the town of Placerville a road agent, whom he had captured out on the toll-road a few miles above.
When asked by Mr. Griffith, the sheriff, how he had managed to capture such a man, who, by the way, was much the larger as well as the younger of the two, Pat replied:
“Indade, thin, I was jist a thraveling along the road alone by meself, do yez moind; attinding to me own business and havin’ no thought of harum at all, whin, all to onct, this dirthy spallpeen came out from behoind a bush, and, pinting his gun at me hid, says to me, ‘An’ will yez plase be afther handing me ther kine that yez are carryin’ about with yez, and be hasty about it, too, or darmed if Oi don’t blow the hid off av yez.’
“Says Oi: ‘Yez will, thin?’ Says he: ‘Indeed thin Oi will.’ ‘But hold aisy, now,’ says Oi, ‘divil a bit will yez do that same,’ and I comminced to fale about in me pockets to say if Oi cud sthrike some kine, but divil a bit cud Oi sthrike ther color of it at all at all. An’ so says Oi: ‘Bad luck to it, thin, but Oi have left me purse with me agent in town.’ ‘An’ who’s yer agent in town,’ says he. ‘Indade, thin, would yez loike to make his acquaintance?’ says Oi. ‘Oi would,’ says he. ‘An’ yez shall, thin,’ says Oi. An’ jist at this pint, do yez moind, Oi extinded out me lift hand an’ saized his gun, an’ thin yez cud say nothin’ at all fer the dust that was afther continually risin’ from the ground, begorrah. An’ be jabers it seemed to me that two of thim cyclones had met at ther spot, and was afther havin’ a wrestlin’ match, do yez see? Prisintly there was a dull sound, do yez moind, and thin all was quiet. The dust clared away, and jist there in front of me, be jabers, was sthanding ther chap who wanted me kine. But phawt was Oi a doin’ mesilf dooring the toime, do yez ask? Indade, thin, it was doorin’ ther great commotion of the illimints, do yez moid, thet Oi succaded in turnin’ his right flank, be jabers, an’ gittin’ aroun’ to ther rear of me inimy and climbin’ up over his shoulder to ther top av him, do yez see. Oi was jist afther holding him at bay, and wid dee phunny end of me gun jist a swaiping the flois from his oibrows, do yez see. Thin says Oi: ’ ’Tis me agent yez would loike to see?’ ‘No, not to-day,’ says he, ‘for Oi’m busy.’ ‘Indade, thin, but Oi’m sure thet yez do,’ says Oi, ‘an’ we’ll be afther thraveling to*-gither to say Mr. Griffith, me agent in town, sor. He is a foine gintleman, and the latch-sthring av his hotel is continually hangin’ handy to raich for ther loikes of yez. He’ll be afther tinderin’ to yez the hospitality av his foine manshun, an’ indade, thin, it will not cost yez a cent. Now forward, march, and Oi’ll follow yez, an’ ’twill be an honor to yez, too, to be sane thraveling the road wid an honest gintleman loike meself a followin’ afther yez, as a varlet o’ chamber, begorra.’”