They
discussed our 'portable property' which was nil; one decided,
while the other believed, that we must have money in our
pockets. The first remarked that, whether or no, we were
unarmed; the other wasn't so sure about that - it wasn't
likely we'd come there to be skinned for the asking. Then
arose the question of consequences, and it transpired that
neither of them had the courage of his rascality. After a
bit, both agreed they had better turn in. Tired as we were,
we fell asleep. How long we had slumbered I know not, but
all of a sudden I was seized by the beard, and was conscious
of a report which in my dreams I took for a pistol-shot. I
found myself on the ground amid the wrecks of the trestle.
Its joints had given way under the extra weight, and Fred's
first impulse had been to clutch at my throat.
On the way back to San Francisco we stayed for a couple of
nights at Sacramento. It was a miserable place, with nothing
but a few temporary buildings except those of the Spanish
settlers. In the course of a walk round the town I noticed a
crowd collected under a large elm-tree in the horse-market.
On inquiry I was informed that a man had been lynched on one
of its boughs the night before last. A piece of the rope was
still hanging from the tree. When I got back to the 'hotel'
- a place not much better than the shed at Yuba Forks - I
found a newspaper with an account of the affair. Drawing a
chair up to the stove, I was deep in the story, when a huge
rowdy-looking fellow in digger-costume interrupted me with:
'Say, stranger, let's have a look at that paper, will ye?'
'When I've done with it,' said I, and continued reading. He
lent over the back of my chair, put one hand on my shoulder,
and with the other raised the paper so that he could read.
'Caint see rightly. Ah, reckon you're readen 'baout Jim,
ain't yer?'
'Who's Jim?'
'Him as they sus-spended yesterday mornin'. Jim was a
purticler friend o' mine, and I help'd to hang him.'
'A friendly act! What was he hanged for?'
'When did you come to Sacramenty City?'
'Day before yesterday.'
'Wal, I'll tell yer haow't was then. Yer see, Jim was a
Britisher, he come from a place they call Botany Bay, which
belongs to Victoria, but ain't 'xactly in the Old Country. I
judge, when he first come to Californy, 'baout six months
back, he warn't acquainted none with any boys hereaway, so he
took to diggin' by hisself.
