on an outing, and no man is loudlier welcomed; he is their family
friend, the director of their business, and, to a degree elsewhere
unknown in modern days, their king.

For some reason, Kelmar always shook his head at the mention of
Pine Flat, and for some days I thought he disapproved of the whole
scheme and was proportionately sad. One fine morning, however, he
met me, wreathed in smiles. He had found the very place for me--
Silverado, another old mining town, right up the mountain. Rufe
Hanson, the hunter, could take care of us--fine people the Hansons;
we should be close to the Toll House, where the Lakeport stage
called daily; it was the best place for my health, besides. Rufe
had been consumptive, and was now quite a strong man, ain't it? In
short, the place and all its accompaniments seemed made for us on
purpose.

He took me to his back door, whence, as from every point of
Calistoga, Mount Saint Helena could be seen towering in the air.
There, in the nick, just where the eastern foothills joined the
mountain, and she herself began to rise above the zone of forest--
there was Silverado. The name had already pleased me; the high
station pleased me still more. I began to inquire with some
eagerness. It was but a little while ago that Silverado was a
great place. The mine--a silver mine, of course--had promised
great things. There was quite a lively population, with several
hotels and boarding-houses; and Kelmar himself had opened a branch
store, and done extremely well--"Ain't it?" he said, appealing to
his wife. And she said, "Yes; extremely well." Now there was no
one living in the town but Rufe the hunter; and once more I heard
Rufe's praises by the yard, and this time sung in chorus.