Nevertheless in the conversation that broke out again with the relighting of the lamps, and the comments, congratulations, and reminiscences that were freely exchanged, Yuba Bill preserved a dissatisfied and even resentful silence. The most generous praise of his skill and courage awoke no response. “I reckon the old man waz just spilin' for a fight, and is feelin' disappointed,” said a passenger. But those who knew that Bill had the true fighter's scorn for any purely purposeless conflict were more or less concerned and watchful of him. He would drive steadily for four or five minutes with thoughtfully knitted brows, but eyes still keenly observant under his slouched hat, and then, relaxing his strained attitude, would give way to a movement of impatience. “You ain't uneasy about anything, Bill, are you?” asked the Expressman confidentially. Bill lifted his eyes with a slightly contemptuous surprise. “Not about anything ter COME. It's what HEZ happened that I don't exackly sabe. I don't see no signs of Ramon's gang ever havin' been out at all, and ef they were out I don't see why they didn't go for us.” “The simple fact is that our ruse was successful,” said an outside passenger. “They waited to see our lights on the ridge, and, not seeing them, missed us until we had passed. That's my opinion.” “You ain't puttin' any price on that opinion, air ye?” inquired Bill politely. “No.” “'Cos thar's a comic paper in 'Frisco pays for them things, and I've seen worse things in it.” “Come off, Bill,” retorted the passenger, slightly nettled by the tittering of his companions. “Then what did you put out the lights for?” “Well,” returned Bill grimly, “it mout have been because I didn't keer to hev you chaps blazin' away at the first bush you THOUGHT you saw move in your skeer, and bringin' down their fire on us.” The explanation, though unsatisfactory, was by no means an improbable one, and we thought it better to accept it with a laugh. Bill, however, resumed his abstracted manner. “Who got in at the Summit?” he at last asked abruptly of the Expressman. “Derrick and Simpson of Cold Spring, and one of the 'Excelsior' boys,” responded the Expressman. “And that Pike County girl from Dow's Flat, with her bundles. Don't forget her,” added the outside passenger ironically. “Does anybody here know her?” continued Bill, ignoring the irony. “You'd better ask Judge Thompson; he was mighty attentive to her; gettin' her a seat by the off window, and lookin' after her bundles and things.” “Gettin' her a seat by the WINDOW?” repeated Bill. “Yes, she wanted to see everything, and wasn't afraid of the shooting.”