“The greatest assistance was rendered by Hiram Tarbox, Esq., a resident of the vicinity, in removing the obstruction, which was, no doubt, the preliminary work of some of the robber gang, and in providing hospitality for the delayed passengers. In fact, but for the timely warning of Yuba Bill by Mr. Tarbox, the coach might have crashed into the tree at that dangerous point, and an accident ensued more disastrous to life and limb than the robbery itself.” The sudden and unmistakable delight that expanded the old woman's mouth was so convincing that it might have given Brice a tinge of remorse over the success of his stratagem, had he not been utterly absorbed in his purpose. “Hiram!” she shouted suddenly. The old man appeared from some back door with a promptness that proved his near proximity, and glanced angrily at Brice until he caught sight of his wife's face. Then his anger changed to wonder. “Read that again, young feller,” she said exultingly. Brice re-read the paragraph aloud for Mr. Tarbox's benefit. “That 'ar 'Hiram Tarbox, Esquire,' means YOU, Hiram,” she gasped, in delighted explanation. Hiram seized the paper, read the paragraph himself, spread out the whole page, examined it carefully, and then a fatuous grin began slowly to extend itself over his whole face, invading his eyes and ears, until the heavy, harsh, dogged lines of his nostrils and jaws had utterly disappeared. “B'gosh!” he said, “that's square! Kin I keep it?” “Certainly,” said Brice. “I brought it for you.” “Is that all ye came for?” said Hiram, with sudden suspicion. “No,” said the young man frankly. Yet he hesitated a moment as he added, “I would like to see Miss Flora.” His hesitation and heightened color were more disarming to suspicion than the most elaborate and carefully prepared indifference. With their knowledge and pride in their relative's fascinations they felt it could have but one meaning! Hiram wiped his mouth with his hand, assumed a demure expression, glanced at his wife, and answered:-- “She ain't here now.” Mr. Brice's face displayed his disappointment. But the true lover holds a talisman potent with old and young. Mrs. Tarbox felt a sneaking maternal pity for this suddenly stricken Strephon. “She's gone home,” she added more gently--“went at sun-up this mornin'.” “Home,” repeated Brice. “Where's that?” Mrs. Tarbox looked at her husband and hesitated. Then she said--a little in her old manner--“Her uncle's.” “Can you direct me the way there?” asked Brice simply. The astonishment in their faces presently darkened into suspicion again. “Ef that's your little game,” began Hiram, with a lowering brow--