Jeff Briggss Love Story | Page 9

at the Summit this morning, aunty," he
began apologetically, "seein' we had sick folks, you know--you and the
young lady--and thinkin' it might save you trouble. I've got 'em here,"
and he shyly produced the basket.
"If ye kin afford it, Jeff," responded his aunt resignedly, "I'm thankful."
The reply was so unexpectedly mild for Aunt Sally, that Jeff put his
arms around her and kissed her hard cheek. "And I've got some quail,
aunty, knowin' you liked em."
"I reckoned you was up to some such foolishness," said Aunt Sally,
wiping her cheek with her apron," when I missed yer gun from the
hall." But the allusion was a dangerous one, and Jeff slipped away.
He breakfasted early with Yuba Bill that morning; the latter
gentleman's taciturnity being intensified at such moments through a
long habit of confining himself strictly to eating in the limited time
allowed his daily repasts, and it was not until they had taken the horses
from the stable and were harnessing them to the coach that Jeff
extracted from his companion some facts about his guests. They were
Mr. and Mrs. Mayfield, Eastern tourists, who had been to the Sandwich
Islands for the benefit of their daughter's health, and before returning to
New York, intended, under the advice of their physician, to further try

the effects of mountain air at the "Summit Hotel," on the invalid. They
were apparently rich people, the coach had been engaged for them
solely--even the mail and express had been sent on by a separate
conveyance, so that they might be more independent. It is hardly
necessary to say that this fact was by no means palatable to
Bill--debarring him not only the social contact and attentions of the
"Express Agent," but the selection of a box- seated passenger who
always "acted like a man."
"Ye kin kalkilate what kind of a pardner that 'ar yaller-livered Mayfield
would make up on that box, partik'ly ez I heard before we started that
he'd requested the kimpany's agent in Sacramento to select a driver ez
didn't cuss, smoke, or drink. He did, sir, by gum!"
"I reckon you were very careful, then, Bill," said Jeff.
"In course," returned Bill, with a perfectly diabolical wink. "In course!
You know that 'Blue Grass,'" pointing out a spirited leader; "she's a fair
horse ez horses go, but she's apt to feel her oats on a down grade, and
takes a pow'ful deal o' soothin' and explanation afore she buckles down
to her reg'lar work. Well, sir, I exhorted and labored in a Christian-like
way with that mare to that extent that I'm cussed if that chap didn't
want to get down afore we got to the level!"
"And the ladies?" asked Jeff, whose laugh--possibly from his morning's
experience--was not as ready as formerly.
"The ladies! Ef you mean that 'ar livin' skellington I packed up to yer
house," said Bill promptly, "it's a pair of them in size and color, and
ready for any first-class undertaker's team in the kintry. Why, you
remember that curve on Break Neck hill, where the leaders allus look
as if they was alongside o' the coach and faced the other way? Well,
that woman sticks her skull outer the window, and sez she,
confidential-like to old yaller-belly, sez she, 'William Henry,' sez she,
'tell that man his horses are running away!'"
"You didn't get to see the--the--daughter, Bill, did you?" asked Jeff,
whose laugh had become quite uneasy.

"No, I didn't," said Bill, with sudden and inexplicable vehemence, "and
the less you see of her, Jefferson Briggs, the better for you."
Too confounded and confused by Bill's manner to question further, Jeff
remained silent until they drew up at the door of the "Half-way House."
But here another surprise awaited him. Mr. Mayfield, erect and
dignified, stood upon the front porch as the coach drove up.
"Driver!" began Mr. Mayfield.
There was no reply.
"Driver," said Mr. Mayfield, slightly weakening under Bill's eye, "I
shall want you no longer. I have"-- "Is he speaking to me?" said Bill
audibly to Jeff, "'cause they call me 'Yuba Bill' yer abouts."
"He is," said Jeff hastily.
"Mebbee he's drunk," said Bill audibly; "a drop or two afore breakfast
sometimes upsets his kind."
"I was saying, Bill," said Mr. Mayfield, becoming utterly limp and
weak again under Bill's cold gray eyes, "that I've changed my mind,
and shall stop here awhile. My daughter seems already benefited by the
change. You can take my traps from the boot and leave them here."
Bill laid down his lines resignedly, coolly surveyed Mr. Mayfield, the
house, and the half-pleased, half-frightened Jeff, and then proceeded to
remove the luggage from the boot, all the while whistling loud and
offensive incredulity. Then he climbed back to his box.