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sublime simplicity； 〃I had done 'em good； and they could get on
alone。 Don't it？〃
〃It does；〃 responded Lance grimly。 〃Have you any other friends
that come？〃
〃Only the Postmaster at the Crossing。〃
〃The Postmaster？〃
〃Yes； he's reckonin' to marry me next year； if I'm big enough。〃
〃And what do you reckon？〃 asked Lance earnestly。
Flip began a series of distortions with her shoulders； ran on
ahead； picked up a few pebbles and threw them into the wood；
glanced back at Lance with swimming mottled eyes； that seemed a
piquant incarnation of everything suggestive and tantalizing； and
said；
〃That's telling。〃
They had by this time reached the spot where they were to separate。
〃Look；〃 said Flip； pointing to a faint deflection of their path；
which seemed； however； to lose itself in the underbrush a dozen
yards away； 〃ther's your trail。 It gets plainer and broader the
further you get on； but you must use your eyes here； and get to
know it well afore you get into the fog。 Good…by。〃
〃Good…by。〃 Lance took her hand and drew her beside him。 She was
still redolent of the spices of the thicket； and to the young man's
excited fancy seemed at that moment to personify the perfume and
intoxication of her native woods。 Half laughingly； half earnestly；
he tried to kiss her； she struggled for some time strongly； but at
the last moment yielded； with a slight return and the exchange of a
subtle fire that thrilled him； and left him standing confused and
astounded as she ran away。 He watched her lithe； nymph…like figure
disappear in the checkered shadows of the wood； and then he turned
briskly down the half…hidden trail。 His eyesight was keen； he made
good progress； and was soon well on his way toward the distant
ridge。
But Flip's return had not been as rapid。 When she reached the wood
she crept to its beetling verge； and； looking across the canyon；
watched Lance's figure as it vanished and reappeared in the shadows
and sinuosities of the ascent。 When he reached the ridge the
outlying fog crept across the summit； caught him in its embrace；
and wrapped him from her gaze。 Flip sighed； raised herself； put
her alternate foot on a stump； and took a long pull at her too…
brief stockings。 When she had pulled down her skirt and endeavored
once more to renew the intimacy that had existed in previous years
between the edge of her petticoat and the top of her stockings； she
sighed again； and went home。
CHAPTER III。
For six months the sea fogs monotonously came and went along the
Monterey coast； for six months they beleaguered the Coast Range
with afternoon sorties of white hosts that regularly swept over the
mountain crest； and were as regularly beaten back again by the
leveled lances of the morning sun。 For six months that white veil
which had once hidden Lance Harriott in its folds returned without
him。 For that amiable outlaw no longer needed disguise or hiding…
place。 The swift wave of pursuit that had dashed him on the summit
had fallen back； and the next day was broken and scattered。 Before
the week had passed； a regular judicial inquiry relieved his crime
of premeditation； and showed it to be a rude duel of two armed and
equally desperate men。 From a secure vantage in a seacoast town
Lance challenged a trial by his peers； and； as an already prejudged
man escaping from his executioners； obtained a change of venue。
Regular justice； seated by the calm Pacific； found the action of an
interior； irregular jury rash and hasty。 Lance was liberated on
bail。
The Postmaster at Fisher's Crossing had just received the weekly
mail and express from San Francisco； and was engaged in examining
it。 It consisted of five letters and two parcels。 Of these； three
of the letters and the two parcels were directed to Flip。 It was
not the first time during the last six months that this extraordinary
event had occurred； and the curiosity of the Crossing was duly
excited。 As Flip had never called personally for the letters or
parcels； but had sent one of her wild； irregular scouts or henchmen
to bring them； and as she was seldom seen at the Crossing or on the
stage road； that curiosity was never satisfied。 The disappointment
to the Postmastera man past the middle agepartook of a
sentimental nature。 He looked at the letters and parcels； he looked
at his watch； it was yet early； he could return by noon。 He again
examined the addresses； they were in the same handwriting as the
previous letters。 His mind was made up； he would deliver them
himself。 The poetic； soulful side of his mission was delicately
indicated by a pale blue necktie； a clean shirt； and a small package
of gingernuts； of which Flip was extravagantly fond。
The common road to Fairley's Ranch was by the stage turnpike to a
point below the Gin and Ginger Woods； where the prudent horseman
usually left his beast and followed the intersecting trail afoot。
It was here that the Postmaster suddenly observed on the edge of
the wood the figure of an elegantly…dressed woman； she was walking
slowly； and apparently at her ease； one hand held her skirts
lightly gathered between her gloved fingers； the other slowly swung
a riding whip。 Was it a picnic of some people from Monterey or
Santa Cruz？ The spectacle was novel enough to justify his coming
nearer。 Suddenly she withdrew into the wood； he lost sight of her；
she was gone。 He remembered； however； that Flip was still to be
seen； and as the steep trail was beginning to tax all his energies；
he was fain to hurry forward。 The sun was nearly vertical when he
turned into the canyon； and saw the bark roof of the cabin beyond。
At almost the same moment Flip appeared； flushed and panting； in
the road before him。
〃You've got something for me；〃 she said； pointing to the parcel and
letters。 Completely taken by surprise； the Postmaster mechanically
yielded them up； and as instantly regretted it。 〃They're paid
for；〃 continued Flip； observing his hesitation。
〃That's so；〃 stammered the official of the Crossing； seeing his
last chance of knowing the contents of the parcel vanish； 〃but I
thought ez it's a valooable package； maybe ye might want to examine
it to see that it was all right afore ye receipted for it。〃
〃I'll risk it；〃 said Flip； coolly； 〃and if it ain't right I'll let
ye know。〃
As the girl seemed inclined to retire with her property； the
Postmaster was driven to other conversation。 〃We ain't had the
pleasure of seeing you down at the Crossing for a month o'
Sundays；〃 he began； with airy yet pronounced gallantry。 〃Some
folks let on you was keepin' company with some feller like Bijah
Brown； and you were getting a little too set up for the Crossing。〃
The individual here mentioned being the county butcher； and
supposed to exhibit his hopeless affection for Flip by making a
long and useless divergence from his weekly route to enter the
canyon for 〃orders；〃 Flip did not deem it necessary to reply。
〃Then I allowed how ez you might have company；〃 he continued； 〃I
reckon there's some city folks up at the summit。 I saw a mighty
smart； fash'n'ble gal cavorting round。 Had no end o' style and
fancy fixin's。 That's my kind； I tell you。 I just weaken on that
sort o' gal；〃 he continued； in the firm belief that he had awakened
Flip's jealousy； as he glanced at her well…worn homespun frock； and
found her eyes suddenly fixed on his own。
〃Strange I ain't got to see her yet；〃 she replied coolly；
shouldering her parcel； and quite ignoring any sense of obligation
to him for his extra…official act。
〃But you might get to see her at the edge of the Gin and Ginger
Woods；〃 he persisted feebly； in a last effort to detain her； 〃if
you'll take a pasear there with me。〃 Flip's only response was to
walk on toward the cabin； whence； with a vague complimentary
suggestion of 〃droppin' in to pass the time o' day〃 with her
father； the Postmaster meekly followed。
The paternal Fairley； once convinced that his daughter's new
companion required no pecuniary or material assistance from his
hands； relaxed to the extent of entering into a querulous
confidence with him； during which Flip took the opportunity of
slipping away。 As Fairley had that infelicitous tendency of most
weak natures； to unconsciously exaggerate unimportant details in
their talk； the Postmaster presently became convinced that the
butcher was a constant and assiduous suitor of Flip's。 The
absurdity of his sending parcels and letters by post when he might
bring them himself did not strike the official。 On the contrary；
he believed it to be a master stroke of cunning。 Fired by jealousy
and Flip's indifference； he 〃deemed it his duty〃using that facile
form of cowardly offensivenessto betray Flip。
Of which she was happily oblivious。 Once away from the cabin； she
plunged into the woods； with the parcel swung behind her like a