As he extracted it, there came also from his pocket a copy of the poster, which he had abstracted from a tree _en route_. "Thar 'tis again!" he exclaimed, angrily. "Can't be satisfied showin' itself ev'rywhar, but must come out of my pocket without bein' axed. Let's see, p'r'aps it don't mean me, after all--'One eye gone, broken nose, scar on right cheek, powder-marks on left, stumpy beard, sallow complexion, hangdog look.' _I'd_ give a thousand ef I had it to git the feller that writ that; an' yit it means me, an' no dodgin'. Lord, Lord! what 'ud the old woman say ef she wuz to see me nowadays?" He looked intently at the flask for a moment or two, as if expecting an answer therefrom, then he extracted the cork, and took a generous drink. But even the liquor failed to help him to a more cheerful view of the situation, for he continued: "Nobody knows me--nobody sez, 'Hello!'--nobody axes me to name my bitters--nobody even cusses me. They let me stake a claim, but nobody offers to lend me a pick or a shovel, an' nobody ever comes to the shanty to spend the evenin', 'less it's a greenhorn. Curse 'em all! I'll make some of 'em bleed fur it. I'll git their dust, an' go back East; ther's plenty of folks _thar_ that'll be glad to see me, ef I've got the dust. An' mebbe 'twould comfort the old woman some, after all the trouble I've made her. Offer rewards fur me, do they? I'll give 'em some reason to do it. I hain't afeard of the hull State of Californy, an'--Good Lord! what's that?" The gentleman who was not afraid of the whole State of California sprang hastily to his feet, turned very pale, and felt for his revolver, for he heard rapid footsteps approaching by a little path in the bushes. But though the footsteps seemed to come nearer, and very rapidly, he slowly took his hand from his pistol, and changed his scared look for a puzzled one. "Cryin'! Reckon I ain't in danger from anybody that's bellerin'; but it's the fust time I've heerd that kind of a noise in _these_ parts. Must be a woman. Sounds like what I used to hear to home when I got on a tear; _'tis_ a woman!" As he concluded, there emerged from the path a woman, who was neither very young nor very pretty, but her face was full of pain, and her eyes full of tears, which signs of sorrow were augmented by a considerable scare, as she suddenly found herself face to face with the unhandsome Jude. "Don't be afeard of me, marm," said Jude, as the woman retreated a step or two. "I'm durned sorry for yer, whatever's the matter. I've got a wife to home, an' it makes me so sorry to hear her cry, that I get blind drunk ez quick ez I ken." This tender statement seemed to reassure the woman, for she looked inquiringly at Jude, and asked: "Have ye seen a man and woman go 'long with a young one? "Nary," replied Jude. "Young one lost?"