irs
that would creak, for I could hear Lee, the China boy, stirring in the
kitchen, and it would have spoiled everything to be caught going out
with my empty basket. When I had let myself into the street I felt
very naughty and festive in my furbelows at such an hour of the
morning. The city seemed so dim and still and empty that the rustle of
my petticoats sounded loud as I walked along.

The Washington Street market was fully six blocks away, and they seemed
the longer for being so quiet. When I got there the men were still
taking the crates off the carts, and the stalls were not set out yet.
It took me a long time to find what I wanted, so that when I came out
the wagons were clattering on Montgomery Street, and in one or two
shops the shutters were already down. That made me hurry, for I was
afraid of being late. I flew along with my basket in one hand and my
flounces in the other. The sunlight had caught the gilt ball on the
flagstaff of the Alta California building, and the sky that had been
misty was now broad blue above the gray housetops. In my flurry I
found myself on Dupont Street before I knew it; but after all it was
the shortest way, and everything was quiet, not a blind turned. The
houses on either hand were locked and silent, and nothing moved in the
steep little street but the top of the green-leafed tree half-way up
the block.

I was walking on the upper side of the street, and drawing near the
corner. I was opposite Mr. Rood's gambling-house, which was shuttered
tight, and looked as blank as the rest, with only the slatted
half-doors of the bar and the dark spaces above and below them to
suggest that it had an inside. I was just thinking I heard people
talking there, when suddenly a sharp splitting noise seemed to ring
inside my head, the slatted doors flew open and a man fell out
backward. He fell in a heap on the sidewalk; and over him, almost upon
him, leaped another man, with such a rush, such a face, and such a wild
look, that he filled the street with terror.

I stood there, staring stupidly, too stunned to realize what had
happened. He saw me, and for an instant he stood, with the pistol
smoking in his hand--the handsomest man I ever saw in my life, and the
most terrible. Then he flung the pistol into the street and ran.

He ran down Dupont, and disappeared into Washington; and all the while
I stood there, listening to the terrible loud clatter his feet made in
the silence. I