Port O' Gold Part 46

"Hullo, Windham!" he greeted. "You don't look very fit.... Been ill?"

"Yes," Benito told him. "Laid up since the last of May. What's new?"

"Nothing much--since the bottom dropped out of Comstock."

Instinctively Benito's hand went out toward a chair. He sank into it weakly. So that was the explanation of Ralston's swift departure.

He felt the men's eyes upon him as he walked unsteadily to the files and scanned them. Ophir stock had dropped 50 per cent. Gould and Curry was even lower. Benito closed the book and walked blindly out of the exchange.

After a time he heard footsteps following. Harpending's voice came, "Hey, there, Windham." Benito turned.

"Cleaned out?" asked the other sympathetically.

"Not--quite."

"Then forget the stocks. They're tricky things at best.... I've a proposition that's a winner. Positively.... There's law work to be done.

We need you."

"Montgomery Street Straight" was the plan. It was to be extended across Market street either in a straight line or at an easy angle--over all obstructions to the bay.

"But such a scheme would involve millions," Benito objected. "It would cut through the Latham and Parrott homes for instance.... Old Senator Latham would hold you up for a prohibitive price. And Parrott would fight you to a finish."

"Quite right," returned Harpending. "That's where you come in, Benito.

We want you to draw us a bill and lobby it through the Legislature...."

"The thing is to make it a law. Then the Governor must appoint a commission. The Latham and Parrott properties will be condemned and we can acquire them at a fair price."

"Very well," Benito answered. "It's a go."

Several days after his talk with Harpending, Benito met Adrian and Francisco, the latter a tall, gangling lad of sixteen. Father and son were talking animatedly, discussing some point on which Francisco seemed determined to have his way.

"What d'ye think of this youngster of mine?" Stanley questioned.

"Scarcely out of short pants and wants to be a newspaper man! I say he should go to school a few years more ... to one of those Eastern colleges you hear so much about. I've the money. He doesn't need to work.... Talk to him, Benito. Make him listen to sense."

"I don't wish to go East, Uncle Ben," said Francisco. "What good will it do me to learn Latin and Greek.... Higher mathematics and social sn.o.bbery? I want to get to work. Calvin McDonald's offered me a job on The American Flag."

"What will you do? Write editorials or poetry?" his father asked.

Francisco flushed. "I'll be a copy boy to start with.... And there's no harm in writing poetry. Uncle Ben does it himself."

It was Benito's turn to redden. "Better let the boy have his way," he said hastily. "Journalism's quite an education in itself."

"So, you're against me, too! Well, well. I'll see about it."

They shook hands good-humoredly, the boy beaming. Afterward news reached Benito that young Stanley was a member of McDonald's staff.

In 1865 there came the joyous news of victory and peace. The Democratic Press accepted Lee's surrender sullenly, printing now and then a covert sneer at Grant or Lincoln. Enmity died hard in Southern b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

One morning as he came to town Benito saw a crowd of angry and excited men running down Montgomery street. Some of them brandished canes. "Down with Copperheads," they were shouting. Presently he heard a crash of gla.s.s, a cry of protest. Then a door gave with a splintering sound. The crowd rushed through, into the offices and print rooms of the Democratic Press.

There was more noise of wreckage and destruction. Broken chairs, tables, typecases, bits of machinery hurtled into the street. Benito grasped the arm of a man who was hurrying by. "What's wrong?" he asked.

The other turned a flushed and angry mien toward him. "G.o.d Almighty!

Haven't you heard? President Lincoln was shot last night ... by a brother of Ed Booth, the actor.... They say he's dying." He picked up a stone and hurled it at an upper window of the Press.

"We'll show these traitor-dogs a thing or two," he called. "Come on, boys, let's wreck the place!"

CHAPTER LXI

DESPERATE FINANCE

The publishers of the Democratic Press had their lesson. In a city draped with black for a beloved President, they swept up the gla.s.s of their shattered windows, picked up what remained of scattered type, rea.s.sembled machinery and furniture--and experienced a change of heart.

Presently The Examiner burgeoned from that stricken journalistic root.

Francisco was now a member of the Alta staff, the aggressive but short-lived American Flag, having ceased publication several years after the war. Adrian admitted to Benito that the boy had justified his bent for journalistic work.

"The young rascal's articles are attracting attention. He even signs some of them; now and then they print one of his verses--generally a satire on local events. And he gets pa.s.ses to all of the theaters. Inez and I are going to 'Camille' tonight."

"So are Alice and myself, by a coincidence." Benito lighted a cigar and puffed a moment; then he added, "Do you know what that boy of mine proposes to do?"

"No," said Adrian. "Become an actor--or a politician?"

"Well, it's almost as bad.... He wants to be a letter carrier.... The new free delivery routes will be established soon, you know."

"Yes, the town's growing," commented Stanley. "Well, you'd better let young Robert have his way. He's almost as big as you.... How is 'Montgomery Straight' progressing?"

"Fairly well," returned Benito. "Latham and Parrott are fighting us as we expected. But Harpending's acquired Selim Woodworth's lot on Market street, just where Montgomery will cut through." He laughed. "Selim wanted half a million for it.... He'd have got it in a day or two because we had to have the property. But along comes an earthquake and literally shakes $350,000 out of Woodworth's pockets. Frightened him so badly that he sold for $150,000 and was glad to get it."

"Well, even earthquakes have their uses," Adrian smiled. "Here comes Francisco. I'll have him see Maguire and arrange it so that we can sit together at the show."

"Who is the lanky fellow with him?" asked Benito. "Looks as if he would appreciate a joke."

"Oh, that's his friend, Sam Clemens," Adrian answered. "An improvident cuss but good company. He writes for the Carson Appeal under the name of Mark Twain."

Benito, that afternoon, was closeted with Harpending and Ralston in the Bank of California. The financier, who was backing the Montgomery street venture, regarded Harpending a trifle quizzically. "Once," he said, "you tried to be a pirate, Asbury.... Oh, no offense," he laid a soothing hand upon the other's knee. "But tonight I need a desperate man such as you. Another like Benito. We're going to raid the Mint."

"What?" cried Windham, startled.

"You'll need steadier nerves than that for our enterprise." Ralston pa.s.sed his cigar case to the two men, saw them puffing equably ere he continued. "You know how tight the money situation has become because President Grant declines to let us exchange our gold bars for coin. With eight tons of gold in our vault we almost had a run this afternoon....

Now, that's ridiculous." His fist smote the table. "Grant doesn't know the ropes.... But that's no reason why h.e.l.l should break loose tomorrow morning."

"What are you going to do?" Benito asked.