sheriff," said one of the loungers.
Mrs. Tucker was not aware of it.
"Well, I don't know any one who's a better right to know than Spence
Tucker's wife," said another with a coarse laugh. The laugh was echoed
by the others. Mrs. Tucker saw the pit into which she had deliberately
walked, but did not flinch.
"Is there any one to serve here?" she asked, turning her clear eyes full
upon the bystanders.
"You'd better ask the sheriff. He was the last one to SARVE here.
He sarved an attachment," replied the inevitable humorist of all
Californian assemblages.
"Is he here?" asked Mrs. Tucker, disregarding the renewed laughter which
followed this subtle witticism.
The loungers at the door made way for one of their party, who was half
dragged, half pushed into the shop. "Here he is," said half a dozen
eager voices, in the fond belief that his presence might impart
additional humor to the situation. He cast a deprecating glance at Mrs.
Tucker and said, "It's so, madam! This yer place is attached; but if
there's anything you're wanting, why I reckon, boys,"--he turned half
appealingly to the crowd,--"we could oblige a lady." There was a vague
sound of angry opposition and remonstrance from the back door of
the shop, but the majority, partly overcome by Mrs. Tucker's beauty,
assented. "Only," continued the officer explanatorily, "ez these yer
goods are in the hands of the creditors, they ought to be represented by
an equivalent in money. If you're expecting they should be charged--"
"But I wish to PAY for them," interrupted Mrs. Tucker, with a slight
flush of indignation; "I have the money."
"Oh, I bet you have!" screamed a voice, as, overturning all opposition,
the malcontent at the back door, in the shape of an infuriated woman,
forced her way into the shop. "I'll bet you have the money! Look at her,
boys! Look at the wife of the thief, with the stolen money in diamonds
in her ears and rings on her fingers. SHE'S got money if WE'VE none.
SHE can pay for what she fancies, if we haven't a cent to redeem the bed
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