" Then
she adjusted the noose to her own neck, raising her long, loose tresses
carefully in order to fix the rope firmly in its place, and then, with a
smile and wave of her hand to the bloodthirsty crowd present, she
stepped calmly from the plank into eternity. Singular enough, her body
rests side by side, in the cemetery on the hill, with that of the man
whose life she had taken.
On Sundays Downieville was full of men, none very old, and none very
young, but almost every one of middle age. Nearly every man was coarsely
dressed, with beard unshaved and many with long hair, but on any
occasion of excitement it was not at all strange to see the coarsest,
roughest looking one of all the party mount a stump and deliver as
eloquent an address as one could wish to hear. On Sunday it was not at
all unusual for some preacher to address the moving crowd, while a few
feet behind him would be a saloon in full blast, and drinking, gambling,
swearing and vulgar language could be plainly seen and heard at the same
time, and this class of people seemed to respect the Sunday preacher
very little. The big saloon was owned by John Craycroft, formerly a mate
on a Mississippi River steamboat, who gained most of his money by
marrying a Spanish woman and making her a silent partner.
One enterprising man who was anxious to make money easily, took a notion
to try his luck in trade, so, as rats and mice were troublesome in shops
and stores, he went down to the valley and brought up a cargo of cats
which he disposed of at prices varying from fifty to one hundred dollars
each, according to the buyer's fancy.
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