n shiver
themselves warm!

"Why, these natives wouldn't walk across a street," he said. "They all
rode--that is, the men. And why not, when horses were to be had for
nothing. Ten dollars would buy the best horse in the territory."

Considerable of a crowd had gathered in front of the town hall,
clustered and craning and gazing at some object in their midst. Mr.
Grigsby, stalwart and proud in his Fremont shirt, sauntered to see.
Presently he called and beckoned.

"Here you are. Here's what you're looking for."

So Mr. Adams and Charley crossed, also. The crowd gave way
courteously, exposing a smiling, good-looking Californian, leaning
against the heavy saddle of his horse.

"Here you are," repeated Mr. Grigsby, who was fingering the contents of
a small canvas sack, evidently the property of the horseman. "You want
to see gold? Take a look at it."

Following his father, Charley peeped within. The canvas sack was half
full of dull yellow--a yellow like the yellow which the buckskin sack
had contained, in St. Louis. However, this yellow was coarser.

"Flake gold," announced Mr. Grigsby. "Straight from the mines. Is
that not so, amigo?"

"Si, senors," smilingly answered the native. And continued, in good
English: "From the American River."

"Did you get--find it?" queried Charley, eagerly.

"Yes, and more. Everybody finds it who looks."

"How long were you gone?" asked Mr. Adams.

"Who knows, senor? Coming and going, perhaps two weeks, but I stopped
with friends along the way."

"How long were you in finding this, then?"

"Four, maybe five, days. It is easy."

"What will you do with it, senor?" inquired Mr. Grigsby.

The man shrugged his shoulders.

"Who knows? When one has money he has friends. For a few days I can
be rich. When I am poor again, there is plenty more gold to be had."

"Were there many other people searching?" asked Mr. Adams.

"An army, senor. They are working like ants."

They thanked the man for his courtesy, and returning him his treasure
started on, for the town hall doorway.

"He'll spend that before another morning," declared Mr. Grigsby.
"That's the curse of easy money--especially out here, where the natives
can get along on a little. Wait a minute. I'll go in and find the
alcalde--he's the mayor. Colton's his name. He was chaplain on the
frigate _Congress_, and was appointed alcalde after Monterey was
captured. I knew him in Forty-six. Fine man. M