But more remarkable than all, around the
neck of each was a little steel chain, from which depended the regular
check and label of the powerful Express Company, Wells; Fargo & Co., and
the words: "To Richard Spindler." "Fragile." "With great care." "Collect
on delivery." Occasionally their little hands went up automatically and
touched their labels, as if to show them. They surveyed the crowd, the
floor, the gilded bar, and Yuba Bill without fear and without wonder.
There was a pathetic suggestion that they were accustomed to this
observation.
"Now, Bobby," said Yuba Bill, leaning back against the bar, with an air
half-paternal, half-managerial, "tell these gents how you came here."
"By Wellth, Fargoth Expreth," lisped Bobby.
"Whar from?"
"Wed Hill, Owegon."
"Red Hill, Oregon? Why, it's a thousand miles from here," said a
bystander.
"I reckon," said Yuba Bill coolly, "they kem by stage to Portland, by
steamer to 'Frisco, steamer again to Stockton, and then by stage over
the whole line.
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