That Cummins was leaving California, probably with gold, was a
well-known fact. That he would go armed, considering the character of
the man, was almost certain. And this was a good reason why bankers at
Moore's Flat or Lake City might ship bullion that fatal day. Mat Bailey
nodded solemn assent, for he knew that this was sound logic.
It was now his turn to offer suggestions. A stage-driver is always a
person of importance, especially in California. For the past six days
Mat had found his public importance rather embarrassing. Every trip past
the robbers' hiding-place had brought an avalanche of questions from
curious passengers. Probably Mat Bailey had been forced to think of the
tragedy more constantly than had any other person. His opinion ought to
be valuable.
He hesitated, and seemed loath to speak his mind.
"Out with it, Mat," said Francis. "This hearing is among friends, not
official. Tell us just what you think."
"Well," replied Mat, "there is one circumstance you gentlemen ought to
know. Up to this time nobody has mentioned it; and I hate to be the
first to speak of it."
Everybody's interest was aroused.
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