"Maybe they're for stealin' a ride," said Abe. The mail and baggage cars had passed, and the women watched the smoking-car that drew up opposite them. Mrs. Campbell had informed her friends that the sheriff always went in the smoker; but on this occasion, for some reason, he had brought his prisoner in the Pullman sleeper at the rear, some way down the track, and Amanda's vigilant eye suddenly caught the group, already descended and walking away. The platoon of sympathy set off, and rapidly came up with the sheriff, while Bill, Abe, the train conductor, the Pullman conductor, the engineer, and the fireman abandoned their duty, and stared, in company with the brakemen and many passengers. There was perfect silence but for the pumping of the air-brake on the engine. The sheriff, not understanding what was coming, had half drawn his pistol; but now, surrounded by universal petticoats, he pulled off his hat and grinned doubtfully. The friend with him also stood bareheaded and grinning. He was young Jim Hornbrook, the muscular betrothed of Miss Sissons. The prisoner could not remove his hat, or he would have done so. Miss Sissons, who had come to the train to meet her lover, was laughing extremely in the middle of the road. "Take these violets," faltered Mrs. Day, and held out the bunch, backing away slightly at the same time. "Nonsense," said Amanda, stepping forward and grasping the flowers. "The women of Siskiyou are with you," she said, "as we are with all the afflicted." Then she pinned the violets firmly to the prisoner's flannel shirt. His face, at first amazed as the sheriff's and Hornbrook's, smoothed into cunning and vanity, while Hornbrook's turned an angry red, and the sheriff stopped grinning. "Them flowers would look better on Buck Montgomery's grave, madam," said the officer. "Maybe you'll let us pass now." They went on to the jail. "Waal," said Abe, on the platform, "that's the most disgustin' fool thing I ever did see." "All aboa-rd!" said the conductor, and the long train continued its way to Portland. The platoon, well content, dispersed homeward to supper, and Jim Hornbrook walked home with his girl. "For Lord's sake, Louise," he said, "who started that move?" She told him the history of the morning. "Well," he said, "you tell Mrs. Campbell, with my respects, that she's just playing with fire. A good woman like her ought to have more sense. Those men are going to have a fair trial." "She wouldn't listen to me, Jim, not a bit. And, do you know, she really didn't seem to feel sorry--except just for a minute--about that poor woman." "Louise, why don't you quit her outfit?" "Resign from the Lyceum? That's so silly of you, Jim. We're not all crazy there; and that," said Miss Sissons, demurely, "is what makes a girl like me so valuable!" "Well, I'm not stuck on having you travel with that lot." "They speak better English than you do, Jim dear. Don't! in the street!"