The operator, accustomed to all kinds of extravagant outlay for expedition, replied that he would lay this proposition with the despatch, before the San Francisco office. He then took it and read it--and re-read it. He preserved the usual professional apathy,--had doubtless sent many more enigmatical and mysterious messages,--but nevertheless, when he finished, he raised his eyes inquiringly to his customer. That gentleman, who enjoyed a reputation for equal spontaneity of temper and revolver, met his gaze a little impatiently. The operator had recourse to a trick. Under the pretence of misunderstanding the message, he obliged the sender to repeat it aloud for the sake of accuracy, and even suggested a few verbal alterations, ostensibly to insure correctness, but really to extract further information. Nevertheless, the man doggedly persisted in a literal transcript of his message. The operator went to his instrument hesitatingly. “I suppose,” he added half-questioningly, “there ain't no chance of a mistake. This address is Rightbody, that rich old Bostonian that everybody knows. There ain't but one?” “That's the address,” responded the first speaker coolly. “Didn't know the old chap had investments out here,” suggested the operator, lingering at his instrument. “No more did I,” was the insufficient reply. For some few moments nothing was heard but the click of the instrument, as the operator worked the key, with the usual appearance of imparting confidence to a somewhat reluctant hearer who preferred to talk himself. The two men stood by, watching his motions with the usual awe of the unprofessional. When he had finished, they laid before him two gold-pieces. As the operator took them up, he could not help saying,-- “The old man went off kinder sudden, didn't he? Had no time to write?” “Not sudden for that kind o' man,” was the exasperating reply. But the speaker was not to be disconcerted. “If there is an answer--” he began. “There ain't any,” replied the first speaker quietly. “Why?” “Because the man ez sent the message is dead.” “But it's signed by you two.” “On'y ez witnesses--eh?” appealed the first speaker to his comrade. “On'y ez witnesses,” responded the other. The operator shrugged his shoulders. The business concluded, the first speaker slightly relaxed. He nodded to the operator, and turned to the bar-room with a pleasing social impulse. When their glasses were set down empty, the first speaker, with a cheerful condemnation of the hard times and the weather, apparently dismissed all previous proceedings from his mind, and lounged out with his companion. At the corner of the street they stopped. “Well, that job's done,” said the first speaker, by way of relieving the slight social embarrassment of parting. “Thet's so,” responded his companion, and shook his hand.