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balance unaccounted for was forty dollars。 He laid it on the desk before
the man； who； still looking at him； rose and opened the door。
〃Mr。 Reed。〃
The clerk who had shown Clarence in appeared。
〃Open an account with〃 He stopped and turned interrogatively to
Clarence。
〃Clarence Brant；〃 said Clarence； coloring with excitement。
〃With Clarence Brant。 Take that deposit〃pointing to the money
〃and give him a receipt。〃 He paused as the clerk retired with a
wondering gaze at the money； looked again at Clarence； said； 〃I think
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YOU'LL do；〃 and reentered the private office； closing the door behind
him。
I hope it will not be deemed inconceivable that Clarence； only a few
moments before crushed with bitter disappointment and the hopeless
revelation of his abandonment by his relatives； now felt himself lifted up
suddenly into an imaginary height of independence and manhood。 He
was leaving the bank； in which he stood a minute before a friendless boy；
not as a successful beggar； for this important man had disclaimed the idea；
but absolutely as a customer！ a depositor！ a business man like the grown…
up clients who were thronging the outer office； and before the eyes of the
clerk who had pitied him！ And he； Clarence； had been spoken to by this
man； whose name he now recognized as the one that was on the door of
the buildinga man of whom his fellow…passengers had spoken with
admiring envya banker famous in all California！ Will it be deemed
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
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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 Stationrode the rest of the way here。〃
〃Did you notice a queer little old…fashioned kidabout so high like a
runaway school…boy？〃
〃Did I？ By Gd； 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 admitted Clarence。
〃You remember that boy Brant who was here？〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
〃Where did he go？〃
〃Don't know； sir。〃
〃Go and find him somewhere and somehow。 Go to all the hotels；
restaurants； and gin…mills near here； and hunt him up。 Take some one
with you； if you can't do it alone。 Bring him back here； quick！〃
It was nearly midnight when the clerk fruitlessly returned。 It was the
fierce high noon of 〃steamer nights〃； light flashed brilliantly from shops；
counting…houses； drinking…saloons； and gambling…hells。 The streets were
yet full of eager； hurrying feetswift of fortune； ambition； pleasure； or
crime。 But from among these deeper harsher footfalls the echo of the
home less boy's light； innocent tread seemed to have died out forever。
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CHAPTER VIII
When Clarence was once more in the busy street before the bank； it
seemed clear to his boyish mind that； being now cast adrift upon the world
and responsible to no one； there was no reason why he should not at once
proceed to the nearest gold mines！ The idea of returning to Mr。 Peyton
and Susy； as a disowned and abandoned outcast； was not to be thought of。
He would purchase some kind of an outfit； such as he had seen the miners
carry； and start off as soon as he had got his supper。 But although one of
his most delightful anticipations had been the unfettered freedom of
ordering a meal at a restaurant； on entering the first one he found himself
the object of so much curiosity； partly from his size and partly from his
dress； which the unfortunate boy was beginning to suspect was really
preposterous； and he turned away with a stammered excuse； and did not
try another。 Further on he found a baker's shop； where he refreshed
himself with some gingerbread and lemon soda。 At an adjacent grocery
he purchased some herrings； smoked beef； and biscuits； as future
provisions for his 〃pack〃 or kit。 Then began his real quest for an outfit。
In an hour he had securedostensibly for some friend； to avoid curious
inquirya pan； a blanket； a shovel and pick； all of which he deposited at
the baker's； his unostentatious headquarters； with the exception of a pair of
disguising high boots that half hid his sailor trousers； which he kept to put
on at the last。 Even to his inexperience the cost of these articles seemed
enormous； when his purchases were complete； of his entire capital
scarcely four dollars remained！ Yet in the fond illusions of boyhood these
rude appointments seemed possessed of far more value than the gold he
had given in exchange for them； and he had enjoyed a child's delight in
testing the transforming magic of money。
Meanwhile； the feverish contact of the crowded street had； strange to
say； increased his loneliness； while the ruder joviality of its dissipations
began to fill him with vague uneasiness。 The passing glimpse of dancing
halls and gaudily whirled figures that seemed only feminine in their
apparel； the shouts and boisterous choruses from concert rooms； the
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groups of drunken roisterers that congregated around the doors of saloons
or； hilariously charging down the streets； elbowed him against the wall； or
humorously insisted on his company； discomposed and frightened him。
He had known rude companionship before； but it was serious； practical；
and under control。 There was something in this vulgar degradation of
intellect and powerqualities that Clarence had always boyishly
worshipedwhich sickened and disillusioned him。 Later on a pistol shot
in a crowd beyond； the rush of eager men past him； the disclosure of a
limp and helpless figure against the wall； the closing of the crowd again
around it； although it stirred him with a fearful curiosity； actually shocked
him less hopelessly than their bruti