ms of payment are a fourth down, the balance in equal
payments during a period of eighteen months."

"How about the lots that lie south?" cried a voice.

"They are one hundred varas square, same terms, same fees," replied
Hyde. He stepped down and Brannan began his address.

"The site of San Francisco is known to all navigators and mercantile men
to be the most commanding commercial position on the entire eastern
coast of the Pacific Ocean," he shouted, quoting from former Alcalde
Bryant's announcement of three months previous. "The town itself is
destined to become the commercial emporium of western America."

"Bravo!" supplemented the Dona Briones, waving her fan. She was the
center of a little group composed of Benito and Inez Windham, Adrian
Stanley and Nathan Spear. Near them, keeping out of their observance,
stood Aleck McTurpin.

"The property offered for sale is the most valuable in or belonging to
the town," Brannan went on, enthusiastically; "it will require work to
make it tenable. You'll have to wrest it from the waves, gentlemen ...
and ladies," he bowed to Juana and her companion, "but, take my word for
it--and I've never deceived you--everyone who buys will bless my memory
half a dozen years from now...."

"Why don't ye get in yerself and practice what ye preach?" cried a
scoffing sailor.

Brannan looked him up and down. "Because I'm trying to serve the
commonwealth--which is more than a drunken deserter from his ship can
claim," he shot back hotly, "but I'm going to buy my share, never fear.
Bill Leidesdorff's my agent. He has $5,000 and my power of attorney.
That's fair enough, isn't it boys? Or, shall we let the sailor act as
auctioneer?"

"No! No!" a dozen cried. "'Rah for Sam. Go on! You're doin' fine!"

"Thank you," Brannan acknowledged. "Who's to make the first bid? Speak
up, now, don't be bashful."

"Twenty-five dollars," called Juana Briones.

"Thirty," said a voice behind her, a voice that caused young Windham and
his sister to start, involuntarily. "McTurpin," whispered Inez
to Adrian.

"Thirty-five," spoke Juana, imperturbably.

"Forty."

Brannan looked straight into McTurpin's eyes. "Sold to Juana Briones for
thirty-five dollars," he said, as his improvised gavel fell on the table
before him.

"I bid forty!" stormed McTurpin. All eyes turned to him. But Brannan
paid him no attention. Someone laughed.

"Next! Who bids?" invited the auctioneer.

"Twenty-five," began Benit