Bob made up his mind that the gun-man
would shortly try to threaten him into a temporary secrecy as to the
condition of affairs. This Bob instantly resolved to refuse.
[Illustration: Bob found it two hours' journey down]
Saleratus Bill, however, rode on in an unbroken silence. Long after the
brawl of the river had become deafening, the road continued to dip and
descend. It is a peculiar phenomenon incidental to the descent of the
sheer canons of the Sierra Nevada that the last few hundred feet down
seem longer than the thousands already passed. This is probably because,
having gained close to the level of the tree-tops, the mind, strung taut
to the long descent, allows itself prematurely to relax its attention.
Bob turned in his saddle to look back at the grade. He could not fail to
reflect on how lucky it was that the inhabitants of this village could
haul their materials and supplies _down_ the road. It would have been
prohibitively difficult to drag anything up.
After a wearisome time the road at last swung out on the flat, and so
across the meadow to the bridge. Feed was belly deep to the horses.
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