Meanwhile, Mrs. Berryn remained in camp, where she was cared for in a manner which called out her astonishment equally with her gratitude. Buffle was hardly well out of the Gulch when Mrs. Berryn heard a knock at the door; she opened it, and a man handed her a frying-pan, with the remark, "Buffle is cracked," and hastily disappeared. In the morning she was awakened by a crash outside the door, and, on looking out, discovered a quantity of firewood ready cut; each morning thereafter found in the same place a fresh supply, which was usually decorated with offerings of different degrees of appropriateness--pieces of fresh meat, strings of dried ditto, blankets enough for a large hotel, little packages of gold dust, case knives and forks, cans of salt butter, and all sorts of provisions, in quantity. Each man in camp fondly believed his own particular revolver was better than any other, and, as a natural consequence, the camp became almost peaceful, by reason of the number of pistols that were left in front of Mrs. Berryn's door. But she carefully left them alone, and when this was discovered the boys sorrowfully removed them. Then old Griff, living up the Gulch, with a horrible bulldog for companion, brought his darling animal down late one dark night, and tied him near the lady's residence, where he discoursed sweet sounds for two hours, until, to Mrs. Berryn's delight, he broke his chain, and returned to his old home. Then Sandytop, the ace-thief, suddenly left camp. Many were the surmises and bets on the subject; and on the third day, when two men, one of whom believed he had gone to steal a mule, and the other believed he had rolled into the creek while drunk, were about to refer the whole matter to pistols, they were surprised at seeing Sandytop stagger into camp, under a large, unsightly bundle. The next day Mrs. Berryn ate from crockery instead of tin, and had a china wash-bowl and pitcher. Little Muggy, who sold out his claim the day after Buffle left, went to San Francisco, but reappeared in camp in a few days, with a large bundle, a handsaw and a plane. Some light was thrown on the contents of the bundle by sundry scraps of linen, cotton, and very soft flannel, that the wind occasionally blew from the direction of Mrs. Berryn's abode; but why Muggy suddenly needed a very large window in the only boarded side of his house; why he never staked another claim and went to "washing;" why his door always had to be unlocked from the inside before any one could get in, instead of being ajar, as was the usual custom with doors at Fat Pocket Gulch; why visitors always found the floor strewn with shavings and blocks, but were told to mind their business if they asked what he was making; and why Uppercrust, an aristocratic young reprobate, who had been a doctor in the States, had suddenly taken up his abode with Muggy, were mysteries unsolvable by the united intellects of Fat Pocket Gulch.