had heard of Coleman, of Terry, of Broderick, Brannan, Gwin, Geary, as he had heard of the worthies of ancient history; he had visualized the fabled splendours of San Francisco's great gambling houses, of the excitements of her fervid, fevered life, as he might have visualized the magnificences of pagan Rome; he had listened to tales of her street brawls, her vast projects, the buccaneering raids of her big men, her Vigilance Committee of the year before, as he would have listened to the stories of one of Napoleon's veterans. Now, by the simple process of a voyage that had seemed literally interminable but now was past, he had landed in the very midst of fable. It was like dying, he told Sherwood eagerly, like going irretrievably to a new planet. All his old world now seemed as remote, as insubstantial, as phantomlike, as this had seemed. "Even yet I can't believe it's all so," he cried, walking excitedly back and forth, and waving an extinct cigar. "I've got to see it, touch it! Why, I know it all in advance. That must be where the Jenny Lind Theatre stood--before the fire--just opposite? I thought so! And the bay used to come up to Montgomery Street, only a block down! You see, I know it all! And when we came in, and I saw all those idle ships lying at anchor, just as they have lain since their crews deserted them in '49 to go to the mines--and I know why they haven't been used since, why they will continue to lie there at anchor until they rot or sink--" "Do you?" said Sherwood, who was vastly amused and greatly taken by this fresh enthusiasm. "Yes, the clipper ships!" Keith swept on. "The first cargoes in this new market make the money--the fastest clippers--poor old hulks--but you brought in the argonauts!" So he ran on, venting his impatience, so plainly divided between his sense of duty in staying near his wife and his great desire to slip the leash, that Sherwood smiled to himself. Once again he mentioned Coleman and the Vigilantes of '51. "I suppose he's around here? I may see him?" "Oh, yes," said Sherwood, "you'll see him. But if you would accept a bit of advice, go slow. You must remember that such a movement makes enemies, arouses opposition. A great many excellent people--whom you will know--are a little doubtful about all that." Keith mentioned other names. "I know them all. They are among the most influential members of the bar." He glanced at a large watch. "Just at this hour we might find them at the Monumental engine house. What do you say?" "I should like nothing better!" cried Keith. "Your wife's illness is not likely to require immediate attendance?" suggested Sherwood inquiringly. "She's only seasick--horrible voyage--she's always under the weather on shipboard--three weeks of it from Panama--Nan's as strong as a horse," replied Keith, with obvious impatience.