But those who watched Dawson saw that a change had come over him. Formerly there was a quiet waggery in his nature, much like that of Budge Isham, which led him to enjoy the rough pleasantries of his companions, though he rarely took part in them, except as an inciting cause. One of his greatest pleasures had been to sit in the Heavenly Bower and exchange reminiscences with his friends, but all that came to an end. Night after night passed without his face being seen in the place. Those who called at the cabin were treated hospitably, but he was reserved and moody, and often failed to hear the words addressed to him. It was evident that there was something on his mind, though he showed no disposition to make a confidant of any one.
"I KNOW the cause of Dawson's trouble," remarked Vose Adams, late one night at the Heavenly Bower.
"What is it?" asked Wade Ruggles, while the rest listened intently.
"On my last trip to Sacramento, two months ago, I brought him a thick letter: that's what is raising the mischief with him."
"But what was in the letter to make him act so queer?"
"How should I know? do you expect me to open and read all the letters I bring through the mountains?"
"Bein' as you couldn't read the big letters the parson has painted on the side of the rock a foot high," said Al Bidwell sarcastically, "there ain't much danger of your doin' that, which the same is lucky for them as gits love letters like myself regular by each mail."
"Which the same you won't git any more onless you sling your remarks a little more keerful," warned the mail carrier.
"And the same being that you can't read the directions writ onto them, I don't see how you're going to help yourself."
"The postmaster at Sacramento is very obligin'," was the significant comment of Vose.
Bidwell saw the dangerous ground on which he was treading, and made it safe by a jesting remark and an invitation to Adams and the rest to join him at the bar.
"We was on the subject of Dawson," remarked Ruggles from his seat, for all had learned long before of the uselessness of inviting him to drink; "and it's the opinion of Vose, I understand, that it was the letter that has made the change in him."
"There ain't any doubt about it," said Adams; "fur the attack took him right after; I noticed the difference in him the next day. He sets by himself these evenings after the little gal has gone to bed, smoking his pipe, without any light in his shanty, and thinking hard."