Port O' Gold Part 10

"To turn them loose ... upon their word not to trouble us further,"

said McTurpin. "I have merely a.s.sumed control of my property. I hold the conveyance of Benito Windham. It is all quite regular," he laughed shortly.

Antonio moved uneasily. His hand upon the lariat itched for a cast.

McTurpin saw it. "You'll do well to sit still in the saddle," he reminded, "all of you. We have you covered."

"What are your orders, master?" said the chief vaquero tensely. "Say the word and we will--"

"No," commanded Windham. "There shall be no fighting now. We will go.

Tomorrow we shall visit the Alcalde. I can promise no more than this."

"It's enough," McTurpin answered. "I've possession. I've a deed with your son's signature. And a dozen good friends to uphold me." He turned.

"Take their pistols, friends, and let them go."

George Hyde looked up from a sheaf of drawing which lay on the table before him and which represented the new survey of San Francisco. A boy with a bundle of papers under his arm entered unannounced, tossed a copy of "The California Star" toward him and departed. Hyde picked it up and read:

"GREAT SALE OF VALUABLE REAL ESTATE IN THE TOWN OF SAN FRANCISCO, UPPER CALIFORNIA.

"By the following decree of His Excellency, General S.W.

Kearny, Governor of California, all the right, t.i.tle and interest of the United States and of the territory of California to the BEACH AND WATER lots on the east front of the town of San Francisco have been granted, conveyed and released to the people or corporate authorities of said town--"

Hyde read on. There was a post-script by Edwin Bryant, his predecessor as alcalde, calling a public sale for June 29. That was rather soon.

But he would see. Hyde had an antipathy to any rule or circ.u.mstance fixed by another. His enemies called him "pig-headed"; his friends "forceful," though with a sigh. There was something highhanded in the look and manner of him, though few men had better intent. Now his glance fell on another, smaller item in the newspaper.

"SYDNEY DUCKS ARRIVE."

"In recent vessels from the antipodes have come numerous men from Australia who, according to rumor, are deported English criminals, known as 'Sydney Ducks.' It is said that the English government winks at the escape of these birds of ill omen, who are lured hither by tales of our lawlessness carried by sailormen. It is high time we had a little more law in San Francisco."

That was another of his problems, Hyde reflected irritably. "Sydney Ducks." There would be many more no doubt, for San Francisco was growing. It had 500 citizens, irrespective of the New York volunteers; 157 buildings. He would need helpers in the task of city-governing. Half idly he jotted down the names of men that would prove good henchmen:

"William A. Leidesdorff, Robert A. Parker, Jose P. Thompson, Pedro Sherreback, John Rose, Benjamin Buckalew."

It had a cosmopolitan smack, though it ignored some prominent and capable San Franciscans. William Clark, for instance, with whom Washington Bartlett had quarreled over town lots, Dr. Elbert Jones and William Howard. Hyde was not certain whether they would be amenable to his program. Well, he would see.

A shadow loomed in his doorway. He looked up to see Adrian Stanley and Robert Windham.

"Come in. Come in." He tried to speak cordially, but there was a shade of irritation in his tone. They, too, were a problem.

"Be seated," he invited, as the two men entered. But they stood before him rather stiffly.

"Is there any--news?" asked Adrian.

"Nothing favorable," said Hyde uneasily. He made an impatient gesture.

"You can see for yourselves, gentlemen, that my hands are tied. The man--what's-his-name?--McTurpin, has a perfectly correct conveyance signed by your son. Benito, I understand, does not deny his signature.

And his right is unquestioned, for the property came to him direct from his uncle, who was Francisco Garvez' only son."

"But--" began Adrian hotly.

"Yes, yes, I know," Hyde interrupted. "The man is a rascal. But what of that? It does not help us; I have no power to aid you, gentlemen."

CHAPTER XIV

THE AUCTION ON THE BEACH

It was the morning of July 20. Fog drifts rode the bay like huge white swans, shrouding the Island of Alcatraz with a rise and fall of impalpable wings and casting many a whilom plume over the tents and adobe houses nestling between sandhills and scrub-oaks in the cove of San Francisco.

Robert and Benito Windham, on the hill above Clark's Point, looked down toward the beach, where a crowd was gathering for the auction of tidewater lots. The Windhams, since their dispossession by McTurpin, had been guests of hospitable Juana Briones. Through the Alcalde's order they had secured their personal effects. But the former gambler still held right and t.i.tle to the Windham acres. Adrian Stanley made his home at the City Hotel and had been occupied with an impromptu school where some four score children and half a dozen illiterates were daily taught the mysteries of the "Three Rs."

"Adrian has determined to buy some of these mud-lots," said Windham to his son. "He believes some day they will be valuable and that he will make his fortune." He sighed. "I fear my son-to-be is something of a visionary."

Benito gave his father a quick, almost furtive glance. "Do not condemn him for that," he said, with a hint of reproach. "Adrian is far-sighted, yes; but not a dreamer."

"What can he do with a square of bog that is covered half of the time by water?" asked Windham.

"Ah," Benito said, "we've talked that over, Adrian and I. Adrian has a plan of reclamation. An engineering project for leveling sandhills by contract and using the waste to cover his land. He has already arranged for ox-teams and wagons. It is perfectly feasible, my father."

Robert Windham smiled at the other's enthusiasm. "Perhaps you are right," he said. "G.o.d grant it--and justify your faith in that huddle of huts below."

Below them a man had mounted an improvised platform. He was waving his arms, haranguing an ever-growing audience. Benito stirred uneasily. "I must go," he said. "I promised Adrian to join him."

"Very well," returned his father. He watched the slight and supple figure riding down the slope.

Slowly he made his way back to the Rancho Briones. His wife met him at the gate.

"Juana and Inez have gone to the sale," she announced. "Shall we join them in the pueblo later on?"

"Nay, Anita," he said, "unless you wish it.... I have no faith in mire."

She looked up at him anxiously. "Roberto! I grieve to hear it. They--"

she checked herself.

"They--what, my love?" he asked curiously.

"They have gone to buy," said Anita. "Juana has great faith. She has considerable money. And Inez has taken her jewels--even a few of mine.

The Senor O'Farrell whispered to her at the ball that the lots would sell for little and their value would increase immensely."

"So, that is why Benito has his silver-mounted harness," Windham spoke half to himself. He smiled a little ruefully. "You are all gamblers, dreamers.... You dear ones of Spanish heritage."

On the beach a strangely varied human herd pressed close around a platform upon which stood Samuel Brannan and Alcalde Hyde. The former had promised to act as auctioneer and looked over a sheaf of notes while Hyde in his dry, precise and positive tone read the details of the forthcoming sale. It would last three days, Hyde informed his hearers, and 450 lots would be sold. North of the broad street paralleling the Mission Camino lots were sixteen and a half varas wide and fifty varas deep. All were between the limits of low and high water mark.

"What's a vara?" shouted a new arrival.

"A Spanish yard," explained Hyde, "about thirty-three and a third inches of English measure. Gentlemen, you are required to fence your lots and build a house within a year. The fees for recording and deed will be $3.62, and the terms of payment are a fourth down, the balance in equal payments during a period of eighteen months."