THE SPHINX APPLETwenty miles out from Paradise, and fifteen miles short of
Sunrise City, Bildad Rose, the stage-driver, stopped his team. A
furious snow had been falling all day. Eight inches it measured
now, on a level. The remainder of the road was not without peril in
daylight, creeping along the ribs of a bijou range of ragged
mountains. Now, when both snow and night masked its dangers,
further travel was not to be thought of, said Bildad Rose. So he
pulled up his four stout horses, and delivered to his five
passengers oral deductions of his wisdom.
Judge Menefee, to whom men granted leadership and the initiatory
as upon a silver salver, sprang from the coach at once. Four of his
fellow-passengers followed, inspired by his example, ready to
explore, to objurgate, to resist,
