He gave a long sigh as he reflected upon the quantity of "bright lights" a million would purchase. "I'd have three houses, a hundred suits, a footman with a powdered wig like I seen in the magazine pictures. I'd have a bath each night in eau-de-Cologne, and go to roost in real silk peejamas. I'd larn to dance, and have a valee to dress me and shave me...." "Yep," mused Jim, "and then you'd wake up, Dan. Here, where's that bill? You talk too much. What in hell is that?" A terrific hullabaloo came up from below. A roar of laughter and the babble of male voices was mixed with the rumble of wheels and the pistol-like crack of a whip. "Looks like a celebration," said Dan. Jim sauntered to the window. Underneath was Rob's coach, packed full of miners. They slid from the roof of the vehicle and from inside, and began to fire revolvers and dance around like niggers. Then one of them saw Jim. "Hi, Colorado Jim, come out of that!" he bawled. Jim ducked back from the window as a roar came up from below. "Looks like they're for giving you a send-off," said Dan. "Who told them? I kept it quiet--can't stand ceremonies." "It must have been Rob." "Confound him! There's no time for kissing. It's fifty miles to Graymount, and the train is scheduled for noon. Send 'em away." Dan opened his eyes with horror at the suggestion. "I ain't takin' risks. You got heaps of time. It's only five o'clock and the road is good to Graymount." "More'n Rob's hosses are. That off-side mare's like a sausage on four crooked sticks." "Jim! We want Colorado Jim!" was howled up from below. The much desired went to the window. "Boys," he bawled, "you all run along home. I gotta catch a train." His voice was drowned by horrible threats of what they would do if he didn't hike down immediately. He turned to Dan. "They're a darn fine lot of boys, but I wish they wouldn't git so worked up. Where's Emily?" Emily, who was standing in the doorway, ogling him unseen, came forward. "There's something to buy a dress with, and see here, don't get a draughtboard pattern. If there's any money over, buy soap--scented soap." Emily's eyes almost fell from her head at the sight of the fifty-dollar note. She rubbed her hands down her dress and took it. Jim had grabbed the heavy bag and was half-way down the stairs before she could summon enough breath to murmur the incessant refrain, "Ain't he jest wonderful!" At the door Jim was grabbed by a dozen hefty pairs of hands and hoisted on to shoulders. One man took the big bag, and with remarkable skill flung it clean on the top of the waiting coach, much to Rob's disgust. The hurtling missile came down like a thunderbolt, and nearly went through the roof. "Don't get fresh, boys," pleaded Jim. "These are my Sunday clothes."