Connecticut western news., 1884-07-30
Sacramento.

It was an odd name for girl-Sacra- mento.
 So the girl herself thought as she stopped down beside a spring at the foot of cottonwood tree and lazily dropped her pail into the water.
 ''It ought to have been given to boy, if it was fit name to give to anybody, !" she said quite aloud. "But I'm more boy than girl, anyway"
 This fact was added rather bitterly, as she looked at her brown, rough hands and her bare ankle, and thought of the "boy's work" she had to do.
 And it was hard to believe that this was the best kind of life for a young girl like Sacramento. Here she lived alone, for her father was down at the mouth of the canyon all day. The gar den work she was obliged to do, and the care of the garden fell upon her. It was not often that she saw any person but her father, although now and then, in spite of herself, she came in contact with the rude men of the mining camp mp above.
 Yet Sacramento had her dream, one that she scarcely dared to own" but it came to her often as she went about her work.
 She knew that down at Santa Barbara and in the towns along the coast, and far, far away across wide stretches of continent to the great East, there were girls who lived very different from her life, and she dreamed of such life for herself.
 'Oh, if could only go away from here '" she cried out, almost as one cries out for help. "If could only go down to San Francisco and go to school there for single year. An, if I had $500"
 Suddenly there was 8 step-not a man, but of 8 horse-on the bank be- hind her, and then some one spoke. She knew the voice without looking up. It was Pete Larrabee, fellow who lived down on Hahneman's plantation, two miles along the trail. He some times rode by. He had not heard her last words at all; yet, strangely enough his own words were a repetition of them.
 "Fiye hundred dollars, Sac, " said he; ''$5O0 in gold Dye want ter earn it Ther's yer chance" and he threw down to her a bit of paper crumpled into ball.
 She picked it up, and, slowly unfold ing it, ran her eyes over the contents.
 $500 REWARD. The above amount will be paid for in- formation leading to the arrest, dead or alive, of Walter Somers, who has worked for some time past on Maxwell's ranch. Said Somers is about IS years old and five and half feet high, rather good looking, with light, curly hair. blue eyes and light mustache. When last seen he had on black slouch hat, gray busi- ness suit and blue flannel shirt and boots with red tops marked with the makers name.
 The name of the county sheriff was signed at the bottom of the bill. Sacra- mento, having glanced it through, booked up.
 "Heis been a stealth horses p ex- claimed Pete. 'Got off last night with four of Maxwell's best, somewheres. That reward won't do much good, though. The regulators'll lasso him and string him up fore the law'll git started. They are havin' meetin' now up at the gulch. l tell ye they are mad. They'll make quick work if they ketch him. Yel fathers there. Ye needn't look for him home afore night, much"
 Then, after word or two more the man rode on, and presently Sacramento took up her pail, and with the sheriff's bill still in her hand, went slowly up the bank and across the trail toward the house, thinking very seriously about the $500 all the while.
 It was some hours after this, and the afternoon sun was going down behind the tops of the mountains, that Saera mento, having finished her housework was preparing to sit down on the porch to do her sewing, when she was met il the doorway by young man whom she had never seen before. And yet he was no stranger. The girl knew him instant. ly, although the slouch hat was pulled down over the faxen hair and blue eyes and the gray pants, torn and muddy had been drawn out of the boot legs SC as to no longer allow the red tops of the boots with the makers name to be seen It was the horse thief.
 She did not, however, express an, surprise as she saw him. She was ac customed to the sight of rough, evi men; and at the first glance she had feI that this one could not be either yer, wicked or very dangerous. He was no very much more than lad and had al air of gentleness and good breedinl about him that six months of Westerl life and the plight he was in at that mo ment had by no means destroyed. Fl seemed to be short of breath, too, an was trembling as if he had been run ming.
 Inst;nctiyely he raised his hand to ward his head, and then, bethinkin himself, dropped 1t again.