“Who?” said Jack quickly.

“Billy,—­my goat.”

Jack drew a long breath, and glanced back at the saloon.  “Ye ain’t goin’ back to class now, are ye?” he said hurriedly.  “Ef you ain’t, I’ll—­I’ll see ye home.”

“I don’t mind,” said Polly demurely, “if it ain’t takin’ ye outer y’ur way.”

Jack offered his arm, and hurrying past the saloon, the happy pair were soon on the road to Skinners Pass.

Jack did not, I regret to say, confess his blunder, but left the Reverend Mr. Withholder to remain under suspicion of having committed an unprovoked assault and battery.  It was characteristic of Rocky Canyon, however, that this suspicion, far from injuring his clerical reputation, incited a respect that had been hitherto denied him.  A man who could hit out straight from the shoulder had, in the language of the critics, “suthin’ in him.”  Oddly enough, the crowd that had at first sympathized with Jack now began to admit provocations.  His subsequent silence, a disposition when questioned on the subject to smile inanely, and, later, when insidiously asked if he had ever seen Polly dancing with the goat, his bursting into uproarious laughter completely turned the current of opinion against him.  The public mind, however, soon became engrossed by a more interesting incident.

The Reverend Mr. Withholder had organized a series of Biblical tableaux at Skinnerstown for the benefit of his church.  Illustrations were to be given of “Rebecca at the Well,” “The Finding of Moses,” “Joseph and his Brethren;” but Rocky Canyon was more particularly excited by the announcement that Polly Harkness would personate “Jephthah’s Daughter.”  On the evening of the performance, however, it was found that this tableau had been withdrawn and another substituted, for reasons not given.  Rocky Canyon, naturally indignant at this omission to represent native talent, indulged in a hundred wild surmises.  But it was generally believed that Jack Filgee’s revengeful animosity to the Reverend Mr. Withholder was at the bottom of it.  Jack, as usual, smiled inanely, but nothing was to be got from him.  It was not until a few days later, when another incident crowned the climax of these mysteries, that a full disclosure came from his lips.

One morning a flaming poster was displayed at Rocky Canyon, with a charming picture of the “Sacramento Pet” in the briefest of skirts, disporting with a tambourine before a goat garlanded with flowers, who bore, however, an undoubted likeness to Billy.  The text in enormous letters, and bristling with points of admiration, stated that the “Pet” would appear as “Esmeralda,” assisted by a performing goat, especially trained by the gifted actress.  The goat would dance, play cards, and perform those tricks of magic familiar to the readers of Victor Hugo’s beautiful story of the “Hunchback of Notre Dame,” and finally knock down and overthrow the designing seducer, Captain Phoebus.  The marvelous spectacle would be produced under the patronage of the Hon. Colonel Starbottle and the Mayor of Skinnerstown.