“The treasures of Golconda, or Goldarnit,” said he, “or some of those foreign places.  Hear ’em jingle?  Protect them with your life, Jake.”

“All right,” I said, as glum as you please; for he had left the only vacant place in the carriage back with Mrs. Stone.  This was no way to treat me!  But I was almost glad when Virginia came out to the carriage wearing a pink silk dress, and looking so fearful to the eyes of her obscure adorer that he could scarcely speak to her—­she was so unutterably lovely and angelic-looking.

“How do you do, Teunis!” said she, and paused for some one to help her in.  Judge Stone waited a moment, and gave her a boost at the elbow as she skipped up the step.  I could have bitten myself.  I was the person who should have helped her in.  I was a lummox, a lunkhead, a lubber, a fool, a saphead—­I was everything that was awkward and clumsy and thumb-hand-sided!  To let an old married man get ahead of me in that way was a crime.  I slouched down into the seat, and the judge drove off, after handing me a revolver.  I slipped it into my pocket.

“Jake’s my body-guard to-night, Miss Royall,” said the judge.  “We’ve got the county’s money here.  Did you hear it jingle?”

“No, Judge, I didn’t,” said she, and she never could remember any jingle afterward.

“Aren’t you afraid, Teunis?”

“What of?” I inquired, looking around at her, just as she was spreading a beautiful Paisley shawl about her shoulders.  I dared now take a long look at her.  A silk dress and a Paisley shawl, even to my eyes, and I knew nothing about their value or rarity at that time and place, struck me all of a heap with their gorgeousness.  They reminded me of the fine ladies I had seen in Albany and Buffalo.

“Of the Bunker boys,” said she.  “If they knew that we were out with all this money, don’t you suppose they would be after it?  And what could you and Mr. Stone do against such robbers?”

“I’ve seen rougher customers than they are,” said I; and then I wondered if the man I had seen with the Bushyagers back in our Grove of Destiny had not been one of the Bunker boys.  They certainly had had a bunch of stolen horses.  If he was a member of the Bunker gang, weren’t the Bushyagers members of it also?  And was it not likely that they, being neighbors of ours, and acquainted with everything that went on in Monterey Centre, would know that we were out with the money, and be ready to pounce upon us?  I secretly drew my Colt from my pocket and looked to see that each of the five chambers was loaded, and that each tube had its percussion cap.  I wished, too, that I had had a little more practise in pistol shooting.

“What do you think of Virginia’s dress and shawl?” asked Mrs. Stone, as we drove along the trail which wound over the prairie, in disregard of section lines, as all roads did then.  The judge and I both looked at Virginia again.

“They’re old persimmons,” commented the judge.  “You’ll be the belle of the ball, Virginia.”