It was his invariable custom to stand in front of the lobby of the Baldwin every evening, smoothly shaved, his moustaches nicely brushed and curled, and wearing his favorite black Prince Albert and silk hat. Probably few in the throng that came and went through the lobby of the Baldwin--in those days one of the most popular hostelries in San Francisco--would have paid any attention to Swiftwater. But Bill knew a trick or two and his old-time friends have told me that Swiftwater made it an unfailing custom to tip the bell-boys a dollar each a day to point to the dapper little man and have them tell both guests of the Baldwin and strangers: “There is Swiftwater Bill Gates, the King of the Klondike.” And Swiftwater would stand every evening, silk hat on his head, spick and span, and clean, and bow politely to everybody as they came in through the lobby to the dining hall. [Illustration: SWIFTWATER GREETS STRANGERS IN THE LOBBY OF THE BALDWIN HOTEL, WHOM HE HAD NEVER SEEN BEFORE.] Isn’t it curious, that with all his money, and his confidence in the purchasing power of gold, Swiftwater’s dream of love with Grace Lamore should have lasted scarcely more than a short three weeks? It was not that Swiftwater was parsimonious with is money--the very finest of silks and satins, millinery, diamonds at Shreve’s, cut glass and silverware, were Grace’s for the asking. They will tell you in San Francisco to this day that Swiftwater and his bride worked overtime in a carriage shopping in the most expensive houses in the city of the Golden Gate. Then came the break with Grace. I do not know the cause, but the girl threw Swiftwater overboard and left the bridal chamber of the Baldwin to return to her family, even before they had occupied the palatial home in Oakland. Swiftwater’s rage knew no bounds. In his heart he cursed the whole Lamore family and quickly took means to vent his spite. This is how it came about that scarcely a month after Swiftwater’s wedding bells had rung, the “Knight of the Golden Omelette” was seen to enter his Oakland home one evening and emerge therefrom a half hour later bearing on his back a heavy bundle wrapped in a bed sheet. [Illustration: SWIFTWATER BILL CARRYING $7,000 WORTH OF WEDDING PRESENTS FROM HIS BRIDE’S HOME IN OAKLAND.] The burden was all that Swiftwater’s-strength could manage. Laboriously he toiled his way to the house of a friend in Oakland and wearily deposited his bundle on the front porch, where he sat and waited the coming of his friend. When Swiftwater was finally admitted to the house, he untied the sheet and opened up the contents of the pack. There lay glittering on the floor $7,000 worth of solid silver plate and cut glass. “That’s what I gave my bride,” he said, “and now she’s quit me and I’m d----d if she’ll have that.” CHAPTER IV.