Port O' Gold: A History-Romance of the San Francisco Argonauts — John Shaqi
Port O' Gold: A History-Romance of the San Francisco ArgonautsStellman, Louis J. (Louis John)
General
Port O' Gold: A History-Romance of the San Francisco Argonauts
Stellman, Louis J. (Louis John)
Historical fiction; San Francisco (Calif.) -- Fiction
"His alleged prison record?" Sherman finished. "No. For many a good
man's served his term." He shrugged. "I can't just tell you why I feel
like that toward Jim Casey. He's no worse than the rest of his clan; the
city government's rotten straight through except for a few honest judges
and they're helpless before the quibbles and intricacies of law." He
took the long black cigar from his mouth and regarded Adrian with his
curious concentration--that force of purpose which was one day to list
William Tecumseh Sherman among the world's great generals. "There's
going to be the devil to pay, my young friend," he said, frowning,
"between corruption, sectional feuds and business depression ..."
"What about the report that Page, Bacon & Company's St. Louis house has
failed?" said Stanley in an undertone. Sherman eyed him sharply.
"Where'd you hear that?" he shot back. And then, ere Adrian could
answer, he inquired, "Have you much on deposit there?"
"Ten thousand," replied the young contractor.
For a moment Sherman remained silent, twisting the long cigar about
between grim lips. Then he put a hand abruptly on the other's shoulder.
"Take it out," he said, "today."
* * * * *
Somewhat later Sherman was summoned to a conference with Henry Haight,
manager of the banking house in question, and young Page of the
Sacramento branch. He emerged with a clouded brow, puffing furiously at
his cigar. As he passed through the bank, Sherman noted an unusual line
of men, interspersed with an occasional woman, waiting their turn for
the paying teller's service. The man was counting out gold and silver
feverishly. There was whispering among the file of waiters. To him the
thing had an ominous look.
He stopped for a moment at the bank of Adams & Company. There also the
number of people withdrawing deposits was unusual; the receiving
teller's window was neglected. James King of William, who, since the
closing of his own bank, had been Adams & Company's manager, came
forward and drew Sherman aside. "What do you think of the prospect?" he
asked. "Few of us can stand a run. We're perfectly solvent, but if this
excitement spreads it means ruin for the house--for every bank in
town perhaps."
"Haight's drunk," said Sherman tersely. "Page is silly with fear. I went
over to help them ... but it's no use. They're gone."
King's bearded face was pale, but his eyes were steady. "I'm sorry," he
said, "that makes it harder for us all." He smiled mirthlessly. "You're
better off than we ... with our country branches. If anything goes wrong
here, our agents will be blamed. There may be bloodshed even." He held
out his hand and Sherman gripped it. "Good luck," the latter said,
"we'll stand together, far as possible."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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