incredible that this imaginative and hopeful boy, forgetting all else,
the object of his visit, and even the fact that he considered this
money was not his own, actually put his hat a little on one side as he
strolled out on his way to the streets and prospective fortune?
Two hours later the banker had another visitor. It chanced to be the
farmer-looking man who had been Clarence's fellow-passenger. Evidently a
privileged person, he was at once ushered as "Captain Stevens" into the
presence of the banker. At the end of a familiar business interview the
captain asked carelessly--
"Any letters for me?"
The busy banker pointed with his pen to the letter "S" in a row of
alphabetically labeled pigeon-holes against the wall. The captain,
having selected his correspondence, paused with a letter in his hand.
"Look here, Carden, there are letters here for some chap called 'John
Silsbee.' They were here when I called, ten weeks ago."
"Well?"
"That's the name of that Pike County man who was killed by Injins in the
plains. The 'Frisco papers had all the particulars last night; may be
it's for that fellow. It hasn't got a postmark. Who left it here?"
Mr. Carden summoned a clerk. It appeared that the letter had been left
by a certain Brant Fauquier, to be called for.
Captain Stevens smiled. "Brant's been too busy dealin' faro to think of
'em agin, and since that shootin' affair at Angels' I hear he's skipped
to the southern coast somewhere. Cal Johnson, his old chum, was in the
up stage from Stockton this afternoon."
"Did you come by the up stage from Stockton this afternoon?" said
Carden, looking up.
"Yes, as far as Ten-mile Station--rode the rest of the way here."
"Did you notice a queer little old-fashioned kid--about so high--like a
runaway school-boy?"
"Did I? By G--d, sir, he treated me to drinks."
Carden jumped from his chair. "Then he wasn't lying!"
"No! We let him do it; but we made it good for the little chap
afterwards. Hello! What's up?"
But Mr. Carden was already in the outer office beside the clerk who had
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