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
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