Sam Rice's Romance [pp. 372-381]

SAM RICE'S ROMANCE.
bring, and always faithful to their duties,
in storm or shine."
"I shall like my profession better after what you have said of it," answered
Sam, giving his whip a curl to make it
touch the off-leader's right ear. "I've
done my duty mostly, and not complained of the hardslhips, though once or twice
I've been too beat out to get off the box
at the end of my drive; but that was in
a long spell of bad weather, when the
roads was just awful, and the rain as cold
as snow."
"Would you mind letting me. hold the
lines awhile?" asked the cooing voice,
at last. "I've driven a six-in-hand before."
Though decidedly startled, and averse
to trusting his team to such a pair of
hands, Sam was compelled, bythe psychic
force of the little woman, to yield up the
reins. It was with fear and trembling
that he watched her handling of them
for the first mile; but, as she really
seemed to know what she was about,
his confidence increased, and he watched her with admiration. Her veil was
now up, her eyes were sparkling, and
cheeks glowing. She did not speak
often, but, when she did, it was always
something piquant and graceful that she
uttered. At last, just as the station was
in sight, she yielded up the lines with a
deep-drawn sigh of satisfaction, apologizing for it by saying that her hands,
not being used to it, were tired. "I'm
not sure," she added, "but I shall take
to the box, at last, as a steady thing."
"If you do," responded Sam, gallant ly, "I hope you will drive on my line."
"Thanks. I shall ask you for a ref erence, when I apply for the situa tion."
There was then a halt, a supply of
fresh horses, and a prompt, lively start.
But the afternoon was intensely hot, and
the team soon sobered down. Mrs. Page
did not offer again to take the lines. She
was overwarm and weary, perhaps; quiet
and a little sad, at any rate. Mr. Rice
was quiet, too, and thoughtful. The passengers inside were asleep. The coach
rattled along at a steady pace, with the
dust so deep under the wheels as to still
their rumble. At intervals, a freightwagon was passed, drawn to one side,
at a "turn - out," or a rabbit skipped
across the road, or a solitary horseman
suggested alternately a "road-agent," or
one of James' heroes. Grand views presented themselves of wooded cliffs and
wild ravines. Tall pines threw lengthening shadows across the open spaces
on the mountain-sides. And so the afternoon wore away; and, when the sun
was setting, the passengers alighted for
their supper at the principal hotel of
Lucky-dog-a mining-camp, pretty well
up in the Sierras.
"We both stop here," said Sam, as he
helped the lady down from her high
position; letting her know by this remark that her destination was known to
him.
"I'm rather glad of that," she answered, frankly, with a little smile; and,
considering all that had transpired on
that long drive, Sam was certainly pardonable if he felt almost sure that her
reason for being glad was identical with
his own.
Lucky-dog was one of those sham bling, new camps, where one street
serves for a string on which two or
three dozen ill-assorted tenements are
strung, every fifth one being a place in tended for the relief of the universal
American thirst, though the liquids dis pensed at these beneficent institutions
were observed rather to provoke than to
abate the dryness of their patrons. Eat ing-houses were even more frequent than
those which dispensed moisture to parch ed throats; so that, taking a cursory view
of the windows fronting on the street, the
impression was inevitably conveyed of
an expected rush of famrished armies,
whose wants this charitable communi
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