can about this affair and let me know. What's your balance at the Gulch, Mr. Peebles?—never mind the exact figures!"
"Larger than usual, sir, some heavy deposits!"
"Increase your balance, then, if there should be any infernal fools who connect the Bank with this matter."
"I suppose," said Mr. Fitch, respectfully, "we're to look after your foreman, Mr. Conroy, sir?"
"You are to take your orders from my correspondents, Mr. Fitch, and not to interfere in any way with public sentiment. We have nothing to do with the private acts of anybody. Justice will probably be done to Conroy. It is time that these outrages upon the reputation of the California miner should be stopped. When the fame of a whole community is prejudiced and business injured by the rowdyism of a single ruffian," said Mr. Dumphy, raising his voice slightly as he discovered the interested and absorbed presence of some of his most respectable customers, "it is time that prompt action should be taken." In fact he would have left behind him a strong Roman flavor and a general suggestion of Brutus, had he not unfortunately effected an anti-climax by adding, "That's business, sir," as he retired to his private office.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
MR. HAMLIN IS OFF WITH AN OLD LOVE.
Mr. Jack Hamlin did not lose much time on the road from Wingdam to Sacramento. His rapid driving, his dust-bespattered vehicle, and the exhausted condition of his horse on arrival, excited but little comment from those who knew his habits, and for other criticism he had a supreme indifference. He was prudent enough, however, to leave his horse at a stable on the outskirts, and having reconstructed his toilet at a neighboring hotel, he walked briskly toward the address given him by Maxwell. When he reached the corner of the street and was within a few paces of the massive shining door-plate of Mme. Eclair's Pensionnat, he stopped with a sudden ejaculation, and after a moment's hesitation, turned on his heel deliberately and began to retrace his steps.
To explain Mr. Hamlin's singular conduct, I shall be obliged to disclose a secret of his, which I would fain keep from the fair reader. On receiving Olly's address from Maxwell, Mr. Hamlin had only cursorily glanced at it, and it was only on arriving before the house that he recognized to his horror that it was a boarding-school, with one of whose impulsive inmates he had whiled away his idleness a few months before in a heart-breaking but innocent flirtation, and a soul-subduing but clandestine correspondence, much to the distaste of the correct Principal. To have presented himself there in his proper person would to have been refused admittance or subjected to a suspicion that would have kept Olly from his hands. For once, Mr. Hamlin severely regretted his infelix reputation among the sex. But he did not turn his back on his enterprise. He retraced his steps only to the main street, visited a barber's shop and a jeweler's, and re-appeared on the street again with a pair of enormous green goggles and all traces of his long distinguishing silken black mustache shaven from his lip. When it is remembered that this rascal was somewhat vain of his personal appearance, the reader will appreciate his earnestness and the extent of his sacrifice.
Nevertheless, he was a little nervous as he was ushered into the formal reception room of the Pensionnat, and waited until his credentials, countersigned by Maxwell, were submitted to Mme. Eclair. Mr. Hamlin had no fear of being detected by his real name; in the brief halcyon days of his romance he had been known as Clarence Spifflington,—an ingenious combination of the sentimental and humorous which suited his fancy, and to some extent he felt expressed the character of his affection. Fate was propitious; the servant returned saying that Miss Conroy would be down in a moment, and Mr. Hamlin looked at his watch. Every moment was precious; he was beginning to get impatient when the door opened again and Olly slipped into the room.
She was a pretty child, with a peculiar boyish frankness of glance and manner, and a refinement of feature that fascinated Mr. Hamlin, who, fond as he was of all childhood, had certain masculine preferences for good looks. She seemed to be struggling with a desire to laugh when she entered, and when Jack turned toward her with extended hands she held up her own warningly, and closing the door behind her cautiously, said, in a demure whisper:
"She'll come down as soon as she can slip past Madam's door."
"Who?" asked Jack.
"Sophy."
