Beigh dropped his head.

"There _are_ men who would die daily for the sake of making her happy, but you've put it out of their power, seeing you've married her,"

continued Guzzy. "_I'm_ nothing to her, and can't be, but for her sake to-night I've broken open the gunsmith's shop, broken a jail, and"--here he stooped, and picked up a bundle--"robbed my own employer's store of a suit of clothes for you, so you mayn't be caught again in those prison stripes. If I've made myself a criminal for her sake: can't her husband be an honest man for the same reason?"

The convict wrung the hand of his preserver. He seemed to be trying to speak, but to have some great obstruction in his throat.

Suddenly a bright light shone on the two men, and a voice was heard exclaiming, in low but very ferocious tones:

"Do it, you scoundrel, or I'll put a bullet through your head!"

Both men looked up to the window of the cell, and saw a bull's-eye lantern, the muzzle of a pistol, and the face of the Bowerton constable.

The constable's right eye, the sights of his pistol and the breast of the convict were on the same visual line.

Without altering his position or that of his weapon, the constable whispered:

"I've had you covered for the last ten minutes. I only held in to find out who was helping you; but I heard too much for _my_ credit as a faithful officer. Now, what are you going to do?"

"Turn over a new leaf," said the convict, bursting into tears.

"Then get out," whispered the officer, "and be lively, too--it's almost daybreak."

"I'll tell you what to do," said little Guzzy, when the constable hurriedly whispered:

"Wait until _I_ get out of hearing."

The excitement which possessed Bowerton the next morning, when the events of the previous night were made public, was beyond the descriptive powers of the best linguists in the village.

Helen Wyett a burglar's wife!

At first the Bowertonians scarcely knew whether it would be proper to recognize her at all, and before they were able to arrive at a conclusion the intelligence of the convict's escape, the breaking open of the gunsmith's shop, the finding of the front door of Cashing's store ajar, and the discovery by Cashing that at least one suit of valuable clothing had been taken, came upon the astonished villagers and rendered them incapable of reason, and of every other mental attribute except wonder.

That the prisoner had an accomplice seemed certain, and some suspicious souls suggested that the prisoner's wife _might_ have been the person; but as one of the officers declared he had watched her house all night for fear of some such attempt, that theory was abandoned.

Under the guidance of the constable, who zealously assisted them in every possible manner, the officers searched every house in Bowerton that might seem likely to afford a hiding-place, and then departed on what they considered the prisoner's most likely route.

For some days Helen Wyett gave the Bowertonians no occasion to modify their conduct toward her, for she kept herself constantly out of sight.

When, however, she did appear in the street again, she met only the kindest looks and salutations, for the venerable Squire Jones had talked incessantly in praise of her courage and affection, and the Squire's fellow-townsmen knew that when their principal magistrate was affected to tenderness and mercy, it was from causes which would have simply overwhelmed any ordinary mortal.

It was months before Bowerton gossip descended again to its normal level; for a few weeks after the escape of Beigh, little Guzzy, who had never been supposed to have unusual credit, and whose family certainly hadn't any money, left his employer and started an opposition store.

Next to small scandal, finance was the favorite burden of conversation at Bowerton, so the source of Guzzy's sudden prosperity was so industriously sought and surmised that the gossips were soon at needles'

points about it.

Then it was suddenly noised abroad that Mrs. Baggs, Sr., who knew everybody, had given Guzzy a letter of introduction to the Governor of the State.

Bowerton was simply confounded. What _could_ he want? The Governor had very few appointments at his disposal, and none of them were fit for Guzzy, except those for which Guzzy was not fit.

Even the local politicians became excited, and both sides consulted Guzzy.

Finally, when Guzzy started for the State capital, and Helen Wyett, as people still called her, accompanied him, the people of Bowerton put on countenances of hopeless resignation, and of a mute expectation which nothing could astonish.

It might be an elopement--it might be that they were going as missionaries; but no one expressed a positive opinion, and every one expressed a perfect willingness to believe anything that was supported by even a shadow of proof.

Their mute agony was suddenly ended, for within forty-eight hours Guzzy and his traveling companion returned.

The latter seemed unusually happy for the wife of a convict, while the former went straight to Squire Jones and the constable's.

Half an hour later all Bowerton knew that William Beigh, _alias_ Bay Billy, _alias_ Handsome, had received a full and free pardon from the Governor.

The next day Bowerton saw a tall, handsome stranger, with downcast eyes, walk rapidly through the principal street and disappear behind Mrs.

Wyett's gate.

A day later, and Bowerton was electrified by the intelligence that the ex-burglar had been installed as a clerk in Guzzy's store.

People said that it was a shame--that nobody knew how soon Beigh might take to his old tricks again. Nevertheless, they crowded to Guzzy's store, to look at him, until shrewd people began to wonder whether Guzzy hadn't really taken Beigh as a sort of advertisement to draw trade.

A few months later, however, they changed their opinions, for the constable, after the expiration of his term of office, and while under the influence of a glass too much, related the whole history of the night of Beigh's first arrival at Bowerton.

The Bowertonians were law-abiding people; but, somehow, Guzzy's customers increased from that very day, and his prosperity did not decline even after "Guzzy & Beigh" was the sign over the door of the store which had been built and stocked with Mrs. Wyett's money.

A ROMANCE OF HAPPY REST.

Happy Rest is a village whose name has never appeared in gazetteer or census report. This remark should not cause any depreciation of the faithfulness of public and private statisticians, for Happy Rest belonged to a class of settlements which sprang up about as suddenly as did Jonah's Gourd, and, after a short existence, disappeared so quickly that the last inhabitant generally found himself alone before he knew that anything unusual was going on.

When the soil of Happy Rest supported nothing more artificial than a broken wagon wheel, left behind by some emigrants going overland to California, a deserter from a fort near by discovered that the soil was auriferous.

His statement to that effect, made in a bar-room in the first town he reached thereafter, led to his being invited to drink, which operation resulted in certain supplementary statements and drinks.

Within three hours every man within five miles of that barroom knew that the most paying dirt on the continent had been discovered not far away, and three hours later a large body of gold-hunters, guided by the deserter, were _en route_ for the auriferous locality; while a storekeeper and a liquor-dealer, with their respective stocks-in-trade, followed closely after.

The ground was found; it proved to be tolerably rich; tents went up, underground residences were burrowed, and the grateful miners ordered the barkeeper to give unlimited credit to the locality's discoverer. The barkeeper obeyed the order, and the ex-warrior speedily met his death in a short but glorious contest with John Barleycorn.

There was no available lumber from which to construct a coffin, and the storekeeper had no large boxes; but as the liquor-seller had already emptied two barrels, these were taken, neatly joined in the centre, and made to contain the remains of the founder of the hamlet. The method of his death and origin of his coffin led a spirituous miner to suggest that he rested happily, and from this remark the name of the town was elaborated.

Of course, no ladies accompanied the expedition. Men who went West for gold did not take their families with them, as a rule, and the settlers of new mining towns were all of the masculine gender.

When a town had attained to the dignity of a hotel, members of the gentler sex occasionally appeared, but--with the exception of an occasional washerwoman--their influence was decidedly the reverse of that usually attributed to woman's society.

For the privileges of their society, men fought with pistols and knives, and bought of them disgrace and sorrow for gold. But at first Happy Rest was unblessed and uncursed by the presence of any one who did not wear pantaloons.