"I'll help you carry him--somewhere," he said. He
raised the dead man's shoulders from the ground, and Brannan, following
his suggestion, took the other end of the grim burden, which they bore
to the City Hotel. Brannan, in the presence of Alcalde Hyde, searched
Burthen's clothing for the plan which Rosa had described. But they did
not find it; only a buckskin bag with a few grains of gold-dust at the
bottom, a jackknife, a plug of tobacco, a scratched daguerreotype of a
young girl with corkscrew curls and friendly eyes.

* * * * *

Next evening Nathan Spear chanced in to see the Stanleys. "Sam Brannan's
gone," he told them. "Said he'd let you know about Benito. And here's a
letter from Alcalde Colton of Monterey--who's at the gold-fields now."

"Has he seen my brother?" Inez questioned, eagerly.

Spear began to read: "Young Benito Windham has been near here for a
fortnight. I am told, without much luck, He had to sell his horse and
saddle, for the price of living is enormous; finally he paired off with
a man named Burthen--strapping, bearded Kansan with a little daughter,
about 17. They struck a claim, and Burthen's on the way to San Francisco
for supplies. I'll tell you more when I have seen the lad and had a talk
with him. The girl, I understand, was keeping house for them. A pretty,
wistful little thing, they tell me, so I'd better keep an eye on
Friend Benito."

"Have you seen this Burthen? Is he here?" asked Stanley.

"He was robbed--and killed last night at the Eldorado."

"Sanctissima!" cried the girl, and crossed herself. "Then the little
one's an orphan. And Benito--"

"Her guardian, no doubt."

Spear laughed. "He writes that a miner gave $24 in gold-dust for a box
of seidlitz powders; another paid a dollar a drop for laudanum to cure
his toothache. Flour is $400 per barrel, whisky $20 for a quart bottle,
and sugar $4 a pound. 'It's a mad world, my masters,' as Shakespeare
puts it, but a golden one. By and by this wealth will flow into your
coffers down in San Francisco. Just now there is little disturbance, but
it is bound to come. Several robberies and shootings have already taken
place. There is one man whom I'd call an evil genius--a gambler, a
handsome ruffian and a dead shot, so they tell me. It's rumored that he
has a fancy for the little Burthen girl. Lord save her! Perhaps you
know the rascal, for he hails, I understand, from San Francisco, one
Alexander McTurp