Port O' Gold Part 3

Here the commander halted his men. "Lieutenant Watson," he addressed the senior subaltern, "be so good as to request attendance by the prefect or alcalde.... And for heaven's sake, fasten your coat, sir," he added in a whispered aside.

Saluting with one hand, fumbling at his b.u.t.tons with the other, Watson marched into the customs house, while the populace waited agape; but he returned very soon to report that the building was untenanted. Captain Montgomery frowned. He had counted on the pomp and punctilio of a formal surrender--a spectacular bit of history that would fashion gallant words for a report. "Haul down the flag of Mexico," he said to Lieutenant Misroon. "Run up the Stars and Stripes!"

Lieutenant Misroon gazed aloft, then down again, embarra.s.sed. "There is no flag, sir," he responded, and Montgomery verified his statement with a frowning glance. "Where the devil is it, then?" he asked explosively.

A frightened clerk appeared now at the doorway of the custom house. He bowed and sc.r.a.ped before the irate commander. "Pardon, Senor Commandante," he said, quaveringly, "the flag of Mexico reposes in a trunk with the official papers of the port. I, myself, have seen the receiver of customs, Don Rafael Pinto, place it there."

"And where is Don Rafael?"

"Some days ago he joined the Castro forces in the South, Senor."

"Well, well!" Montgomery's tone was sharp; "there must be someone in command. Who is he?"

"The Sub-Prefect has ridden to his rancho, Commandante."

"That disposes of the civil authorities," Montgomery reflected, "since Port-Captain Ridley is in jail with Fremont's captives." He turned to the clerk again. "Is there not a garrison at the Presidio?"

"They have joined the n.o.ble Castro," sighed the clerk, recovering his equanimity. "There is only the commander Sanchez, Senor. He is also at his rancho."

Despite his irritation, Captain Montgomery could not miss the humor of the situation. A dry chuckle escaped him. "Run up the flag," he said to Lieutenant Misroon, and the latter hastened to comply. An instant later the starry banner floated high above their heads. A cheer broke out.

Hats flew into the air and from the ship's band came the stirring strains of America's national air. Then, deep and thunderous, a gun spoke on the Portsmouth. Another and another.

Captain Montgomery, stiff and dignified, lifted his hand and amid an impressive silence read the proclamation of Commodore Sloat, in which all citizens of captured ports were a.s.sured of fair and friendly treatment and invited to become subjects of the United States. He suggested the immediate formation of a town militia. Leidesdorff came bustling forward.

"My house is at your service, gentlemen," he said. "And tonight," he removed his hat and bowed toward the ladies, "tonight I bid you all to be my guests and give our new friends welcome." He saluted Montgomery and his aids, who, somewhat nonplussed, returned the greeting.

Nathan Spear elbowed his way to the commander's side. With him came Senora Windham and the smiling Senorita Inez. Benito lingered rather diffidently in the background with a group of Spanish Californians, but was finally induced to bring them forward. There were general handshakings. Many other rancheros, now that the ice was broken, brought their wives and daughters for an introduction to the gringo commandante, and Montgomery, his good humor restored, kissed many a fair hand in response to a languishing smile. It seemed a happy and a friendly seizure. Inez said, eyes a-sparkle, "We shall see you at the ball this evening, Senor Commandante."

"I shall claim the first dance, Senorita," said the sailor, bowing low.

Her heart leaped as they left him, and she squeezed her brother's arm.

"He is a kindly man, Benito mio. I shall tell him of this interloper--this McTurpin. Have no fear."

Benito smiled a little dubiously. He had less faith than Inez in the future government of the Americans.

CHAPTER V

AN OFFER AND A THREAT

Aleck McTurpin, tired but exhilarated, rode toward the Windham rancho on the morning after Leidesdorff's ball. He had made a night of it and he was in high fettle. The Senorita Windham had granted him a dance despite her brother's scowling disapproval. Out of the charm of that brief a.s.sociation there had come into the gambler's mind a daring plan. To the Senorita Inez he had spoken of his claim upon the Windham rancho through her brother's note won on the gambling table. He had touched the matter very gently, for McTurpin knew the ways of women and was not without engaging qualities when they stood him in good stead.

Now he rode toward a tryst with Inez Windham and his heart leaped at the prospect of another sight of her; within him like a heady wine there was the memory of her sparkling eyes, the roguish, mischievous, half-pouting mouth. The consciousness of something finer than his life had known aroused in him strange devotional impulses, unfamiliar yearnings.

He and the Senorita were to meet and plan a settlement of McTurpin's claim against the rancho. He had asked her to come alone, and, after a swift look, half fearful, half desperate, she consented. It was an unheard-of thing in Spanish etiquette. But he believed she would fulfill the bargain. And if she did, he asked himself, what should he say--or do? For, perhaps, the first time in his life McTurpin was uncertain.

Suddenly the road turned and he came upon her. She stood beside her horse, the morning sunlight in her wondrous dark hair. The ride had brought fresh color to her face and sparkle to her eyes. McTurpin caught his breath before the wonder and beauty of her. Then he sprang from his horse and bowed low. The Senorita Inez nodded almost curtly.

"I have little time, Senor," she said, uneasily. "You are late. I may be missed." Her smile was all the more alluring for its hint of panic. "Can we not come to the point at once? I have here certain jewels which will pay a portion of the debt." She unclasped from her throat a necklace of pearls he had noted at the ball. She held them out toward him. "And here is a ring. Have you brought the paper?"

McTurpin held up a protesting hand. "You wrong me, Senorita," he declared. "I am a gambler. Yes ... I take my chance with men and win or lose according to the Fates. But I have yet to rob a woman of her trinkets."

"It is no robbery," she demurred, hastily. "Take them, I beseech you, and return the note. If it is not enough, we will pay more ... later ...

from the proceeds of the ranch."

"Senorita," said McTurpin eagerly, "let us compromise this matter more adroitly. Should I make no further claim upon your ranch than that which I possess, why may we not be neighbors--friends?"

She tried to protest, but he rushed on, giving her no opportunity.

"Senorita, I am not a man devoid of culture. I am not a sailor or a trapper like those ruffians below. Nor a keeper of shops. Senorita, I will give up gambling and become a ranchero. If--" he stammered, "If I--"

Inez Windham took a backward step. Her breath came sharply. In this man's absurd confusion there was written plainer than his uncompleted words could phrase it, what he meant.

"No, no," her little hands went out as if to ward off some repulsive thing. "Senor--that is quite impossible."

McTurpin saw the look of horror, of aversion. He felt as though someone had struck him in the face. There was a little silence. Then he laughed, shortly.

"Impossible?" the tone was cutting. "We shall see.... This is now a white man's country. I have offered to divide the rancho. What if I should take it all? Where would you go? You, the proud Senora and the shiftless young Benito?"

The Senorita Inez' lips curled. "When my father comes he will know how to answer you," she told him, hotly.

"If he were alive he would have come long since," McTurpin answered.

"Many perish on the northern trails." He took a step toward her. "Do you know that this morning 200 more Americans arrived on the ship Brooklyn?

They are armed and there is talk of 'running out the greasers.' Do you know what that means? It were well to have a friend at court, my little lady."

"Go!" the girl blazed at him. "Go, and quickly--liar that you are. My brother and his vaqueros will know how to protect my mother and me." She sprang upon her horse and galloped toward the rancho. McTurpin, red and angry, watched her disappearing in a whirl of dust.

"Look, my brother! He has spoken truly." Inez and Benito had ridden to the pueblo for a confirmation of McTurpin's words. They hitched their horses at the rack in Portsmouth Square and walked down toward the landing place. A large ship lay in the offing. Between her and the sh.o.r.e many small boats laden with pa.s.sengers and varied cargoes plied to and fro.

Inez, as they descended, noted many women clad in the exaggerated hoopskirts, the curious, short, gathered bodices and the low hats of the early forties. She thought this apparel oddly ugly, though the faces were not unattractive. They stood in knots, these women, some of them gazing rather helplessly about. The younger ones were surrounded by groups of admirers with whom they were chatting animatedly. There were also many children capering in the sand and pointing out to one another the strange sights of this new place. The men--hundreds of them it seemed to Inez--were busied with constructive tasks. Already there were many temporary habitations, mostly tents of varied shapes and sizes.

Bonfires blazed here and there. Stands of arms in ordered, regular stacks, gave the scene a martial air. Piles of bed-clothing, household effects, agricultural implements, lay upon the sand. A curious instrument having a large wheel on one side caught the girl's attention.

Near it were square, shallow boxes. A pale, broad-shouldered man with handsome regular features and brooding, poetic eyes stood beside the machine, turning the wheel now and then, and examining the boxes. He seemed to be a leader, for many people came to ask him questions which he answered with decision and authority.

"Who is that?" asked Inez of Nathan Spear and Leidesdorff as the two approached. "And what is the strange contrivance upon which he has his hand?"

"It is a printing press," Spear answered. "Yerba Buena is soon to have a paper for the chronicling of its metropolitan affairs. The man? Oh, that's Sam Brannan, the elder of this band of Mormons."

"Is it true that they have come to drive us from our homes?" asked Inez fearfully.

"Who, the Mormons? Lord forbid," retorted Spear. He beckoned to the elder, who approached and was presented. Inez, as she looked into his kindly eyes, forgot her fears. Brannan eagerly explained his printing press. She left him feeling that he was less enemy than friend.

CHAPTER VI

THE FIRST ELECTION

Captain John J. Vioget's house was the busiest place in Yerba Buena, and John Henry Brown its most important personage. The old frame dwelling built by a Swiss sailor in 1840 had become in turn a billiard hall and groggery, a sort of sailors' lodging house and a hotel. Now it was the scene of Yerba Buena's first election. About a large table sat the election inspectors guarding the ballot box, fashioned hastily from an empty jar of lemon syrup. Robert Ridley, recently released from Sutter's Fort, where he had been imprisoned by the Bear Flag party, was a candidate for office as alcalde. He opposed Lieutenant Washington Bartlett, appointed to officiate pro tem by Captain Montgomery. Brown was busy with his spirituous dispensing. It was made a rule, upon Brannan's advice, that none should be served until he had voted.