“No,” said the miner; “leave that to the persons who may find him. If he has money about him, leave it to others. I have been the instrument of Heaven’s retribution. Should I take anything of value from him, I would be degraded to his own level.”
This remark seemed to voice the general sentiment, and, after an interval of only ten minutes, the stage was again on its way to San Francisco.
Grant and Robert were strongly impressed by what had happened. Neither of them had ever seen a death by violence before.
“It’s awful!” said Robert, shuddering.
“But he deserved his fate,” returned Grant.
“So he did; but it is terrible to have death come so suddenly.”
“You are right, lad!” said the miner. “I feel entirely justified in what I did, but it was a fearful necessity. It is something I shall never be able to forget.”
There was no further adventure to record in the two days’ ride. Toward nightfall of the second day they reached the city of the Golden Gate, and the passengers separated. Grant regretted parting with Robert Campbell, to whom he had become warmly attached, but was glad to think they would have opportunities of meeting in San Francisco.
Before separating, he undeceived Robert as to his circumstances.
“I suppose,” he said, “you think me very poor?”