And then came one of the interesting events of this eventful night.  We turned into the main road to Monterey Centre, just where Duncan McAlpine’s barn now stands, and I thought I saw down in the hollow where it was still dark, though the light was beginning to dawn in the east, a clump of dark objects like cattle or horses—­or horsemen.  As I looked, they moved into the road as if to stop us.  I drew my pistol, fired it over their heads, and they scattered.  Then, I was scared still more, by a sound as of a cavalry or a battery of artillery coming behind us.  It was three loads of people on the hayracks, who had overtaken us on account of our having gone by the roundabout way; coming at a keen gallop down the hill to have the credit of passing a fancy carriage.  They passed us like a tornado; shouting as they went by, asking what I had shot at, and telling us to hurry up so as to get home by breakfast time.  The horsemen ahead, whatever might have been their plans, did not seem to care to argue matters with so large a force, and rode off in several directions, while I pressed close to the rear of the last hayrack.  Thus we drove into Monterey Centre.

“What did you shoot for?” asked the judge as we stopped at his house.

“I wanted to warn a lot of men on horseback that were heading us off, that there’d be trouble if they tried to stop us,” I answered.

“Damned foolishness,” said the judge.  “Well, come in and let’s have a bite to eat.”

7

Virginia was staying with them the rest of the night; but as I helped her out, feeling in her stiffness that she was offended with me, I insisted that I would go on home.  The judge, who had been ready to abuse me a moment before, now took hold of me and forced me into the house.  As we went in carrying the satchel, he lifted it up on the table.

“We may as well take a look at it,” said he.

Mrs. Stone and Virginia and I all stood by the table as he unsnapped the catch and opened the bag.  It was full almost to the top.

“That ain’t the way I packed that money!” said the judge.

His hands trembled as he pulled the contents out.  It was full of the bags and wrappers in which the money had been packed, according to the judge’s tell; but there was no money in the wrappers, and the bags were full, not of coins, but of common salt.  That was what made it so heavy; and that was what always made it such a mystery:  for all the salt used in Monterey County then was common barrel salt.  It was the same kind, whether it was got from the barrel from which the farmer salted his cattle, or from the supply in the kitchen of the dweller in the town.  There was no clue in it.  It was just salt!  We all cried out in surprise, not understanding that we were looking at the thing which was to be fought over until either Judge Stone or Governor Wade was destroyed.

“I am ruined!” Judge Stone fell back into a chair groaning.  Then he jumped to his feet.  “They’ve taken it out while we were at the party!” he shouted.  “The damned, canting, sniveling old thief!  No wonder he’s got money!  He probably stole it where he came from!  Jake, we’ve got to go back and make him give this money back—­come on!”