"'Washout,' says the man. 'Cloud burst up on the divide—worst we've ever had—your box is about high water mark—you see there was water enough for awhile—I reckon you're about the only thing that came through alive.'
"'Well, wouldn't that knock you?' says Scotty.
—"Whilst the rest of the folk at the mill was taking to the high ground for their lives, with the water roaring and tearing through the gulch, Scotty had peacefully gone off in his little boat, down the creek, and instead of going over the rapids, where he'd have been done, for all his luck, the box ambles through the flume they was building for the new mill. Of course there was the jounce over the tail race, but that hadn't hurt him much, and after, he rocked in the cradle of the deep, until he got beached at Placerville.
"'Come along, friend,' says Scotty to the feller, 'you and me are going to have a little drink on this, if it is the last act.' And I reckon probably they made it two, for when Scotty got back again he was in a condition that made everybody believe that he'd only guessed at the story he told. But they found out afterward it was a solemn fact. Mattie, give us some more coffee."
Thus abruptly recalled to Fairfield, Miss
Mattie started up.
"Well, Will, it does seem as if that was a dangerous country to live in," said she.
"Oh, not so awful!" said Red. "Just as many people die here as they do there—this world's a dangerous place to live in, wherever you strike it, Mattie."
"That's so," said she, thoughtfully.
"And now," said Red, pushing back his chair, "it's time I got to work and left you to do the housework undisturbed."
"What are you going to do, Will?"