structures in town, that the population was only about five hundred--there
are thirty-five thousand now, that--" he rattled on, detailing his recently
acquired statistics. Oh, potent influence of the Western spirit--already,
eight hours after his landing on California's shores, Milton Keith was a
"booster."

With an expansion of relief that only a woman could fully appreciate, Nan
unpacked and put on a frock that had nothing whatever to do with the sea
voyage, and which she had not for some time seen. In ordinary accustomed
circumstances she would never have thought of donning so elaborate a
toilette for a hotel dining-room, but she was yielding to reaction. In her
way she was "celebrating," just as was Keith. Her hair she did low after
the fashion of the time, and bound it to her brow by a bandeau of pearls.
The gown itself was pale green and filmy. It lent her a flowerlike
semblance that was very fresh and lovely.

"By Jove, Nan, you certainly have recovered from the sea!" cried Keith, and
insisted on kissing her.

"Look how you've mussed me all up!" chided Nan, but without irritation.

They found the other three waiting for them, and without delay entered the
dining-room. This, as indeed all the lower story, was in marked contrast of
luxury with the bare pine bedrooms upstairs. Long red velvet curtains, held
back by tasselled silken cords, draped the long windows; fluted columns at
regular intervals upheld the ceiling; the floor was polished and slippery;
the tables shone with white and silver. An obese and tremendous darkey in
swallowtail waved a white-gloved hand at them, turned ponderously, and
preceded them down the aisle with the pomp of a drum major. His dignity was
colossal, awe inspiring, remote. Their progress became a procession, a