Really, it was much better here than up on the hot deck, and Charley was well satisfied with the change, when aloft, along the rail, a great hubbub sounded. Passengers were pointing and craning about, and most of them rushed away, to the other side. "The _Panama_!" they were calling. "That's she! Down from San Francisco. She's coming in. Now for some news." Even the natives were gazing. For the stairs swam the men who had jumped overboard, and for the stairs swam Charley also. The _Panama_? Sure! She was sister ship to the _California_, and by the talk she was coming in, bound down from California. When Charley gained the deck he, too, looked. He saw the thread of black smoke increased to a wide plume and very near. Beneath the plume was a large steamer, already headed into the harbor entrance. Great excitement reigned aboard the _California_. Majestically the _Panama_ glided into the harbor, and dropped anchor only a long stone's throw from the _California_. "Boom!" spoke her signal gun, and for her raced, again, the fleet of bumboats. Her rail was black-and-white with passengers, staring across at the passengers of the _California_. Men began to yell back and forth. "Where's your gold?" "Here! Where's yours?" and some of the _Panama's_ passengers held up round little buckskin sacks; others slapped their shirt bosoms; and one man, amidst laughter, even held, in both hands, a large gunny sack which probably contained potatoes or yams. "How are things at the mines?" "Booming. Better hurry or you'll be too late, stranger." "Plenty of gold?" "Millions of it." "How much can one man dig in a day?" And so forth, and so forth. Several of the _California_ passengers, who had been in the water before, plunged in again and daringly swam over to the _Panama_, so as better to get the news. Lighters, or scows, had been unloading live-stock and other supplies into the _California_, and what looked to be the ship's boat was putting out from the shore. Suddenly "Boom!" spoke the ship's gun, as signal that she was about to weigh anchor. Down to the beach hurried the passengers who had gone ashore. Charley knew that his father and Mr. Grigsby would be among them. The sun had set, and a little breeze blew coolly on his wet garments, so he scampered to the cabin, to change. Just as he reached the threshold he thought of his shoes. Shucks! He had never thought, when he had taken them off in such haste, and he had left them lying with the precious papers in one of them! In fact, he had not locked the door, had he? Anyway, the door was unlocked now--and in he hastened, his heart in his mouth. His shoes were lying there. He picked one up, but it contained no papers. He grabbed the other and explored it. It contained no papers. Maybe they had stuck to his stockings, then. He hoped so. But, alas, no papers were to be found, anywhere, on his stockings, or near his stockings, or under the bunk, or--anywhere.