THE ROBERT E. COWAN COLLECT! 
 
 RESENTED TO Till 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 BV 
 
 C. P. HUNTINGTON 
 
 dUNE. 18Q7. 
 
 Accession N, 7 30$ Class No, 
 
 ?S* 
 
I 
 

 ^*5^z/ .if mv^j,.^^ 
 
 EARLY. OlLiFORNiA; 
 
 A DRAMA, 
 
 I1ST 
 
 WILLIAM BAUSMAN 
 
 Period, 1855. 
 
 S A X F H AN C I S C O 
 
 1872. 
 
JC 3d 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, 
 
 By WILLIAM BAUSMAN, 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
 

 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PEESS. 
 
 _ M 
 
 We have to congratulate Mr. Bailsman upon the success of his drama of 
 ** Early California." It was produced to one of the largest and most intelligent 
 audiences ever seen in a San Francisco theater, and received with a degree of 
 favor flattering to the author. It was put on the stage in very good style. 
 Much of the scenery is elective. * 
 
 As a picture of California life in the early days, it is generally accurate. We 
 know of no one, not even Bret Harte, who has more faithfully depicted the 
 wild life of the mining camp, than Mr. Bausman. The scene of the examina 
 tion on the accusation for murder, and that of the lynching, were admirably 
 well done. Indeed the third and fourth acts altogether the best in the play 
 have been worked up with scrupulous art and conscientious fidelity to life. 
 The piece, as before remarked, ranks high as a literary production. There are 
 passages of great power and beauty for instance, the apostrophe to the Pen, 
 in the opening scene; touches of genuine humor and flashes of wit. The 
 dialogues are generally lively and sometimes brilliant. an Francisco Bulletin, 
 Feb. 15, 1872. 
 
 Mr. Bausman s maiden drama, in five acts, entitled "Early California," 
 which was played at this theater last night for the first time, possesses decided 
 literary and dramatic merit. Following so quickly on the unusually meritorious 
 drama of the Red Pocket Book, any production, whether domestic or foreign, 
 must undergo the crucial test of severe comparison on the same stage. The 
 fact, therefore, that Mr. Bausman s play was witnessed on its first representa 
 tion by a crowded audience who repeatedly expressed their satisfaction in loud 
 applause, is the best evidence that can be furnished of its excellence. * * "* 
 At the close of the performance Mr. Bausman, being loudly called for, addressed 
 the audience from the front of the dress circle, thanking all present for the 
 flattering reception they had given to his maiden dramatic effort, and express 
 ing a hope that at some future time he might produce something more deserv 
 ing of their approval.- -A Zta, Feb, 15. 
 
 Mr. Bausman s new play, entitled "Early California," was produced last 
 evening at the Metropolitan, to such an audience as the most brilliant opera 
 night could never excel. It was an audience capable of fair and judicious 
 criticism whose dictum, favorable or otherwise, an author would be bound to 
 respect. But the decision was such a one as Mr. Bausman, we feel sure, will 
 not or\ly respect but honor. It was decidedly favorable. " Early California," 
 is really a tale of early California. It is well written and arranged, and has 
 that much literary merit about it, that though there are no railroad accidents, 
 scalping soirees or violent explosions, save in the denouement, the interest is 
 well preserved and led up to the finale from the very first scene. It is also 
 singularly devoid of that namby-pamby stuff which most playwrights are wont 
 to put into the mouths of their young lady and gentlemen characters. There 
 are also some original ideas expressed in the bright and rapid dialogue, which 
 have the true ring of manhood about them. But the play is, throughout, one 
 of the most original performances we have ever had presented. ***** 
 " Early California" is assuredly a success, and we are glad of it, not only for 
 its author s sake, but because we wish to see one play, of home manufacture , 
 of which we can be justly proud. Examiner, Feb. 15. 
 
4 OPINIONS OF THE TRESS. 
 
 Quite a number of plays have teen written and represented in this city, pur 
 porting to delineate Calif oruia life, but so far as the characters and incidents of 
 most of them are concerned, their scenes might nearly as well have been laid in 
 almost any other country, the only peculiarities to render them consistent with 
 what they were announced to be, consisting of a few local allusions and the 
 scenery with which they were illustrated. The new drama of "Early Cali 
 fornia," however, from the pen of Mr. Bausman, produced at the theater last 
 evening, is essentially of a different character from the class alluded to, and is 
 deserving of special praise, in many respects, as being not only a literary pro 
 duction of more than ordinary merit, but a dramatic story with the scenes, 
 incidents and personages essentially Californian, it being evident that the 
 author is fully conversant with what he describes, and is capable of depicting 
 the elegant and refined, as well as the coarser elements ot the manners and 
 peculiarities of the people of the pioneer days in th^ Golden State. The author 
 has shown his taste and versatility, in addition to his correct knowledge and 
 appreciation of his subject, by a number of thoughtful and elegant passages, 
 intermingled here and there with the necessarily ordinary dialogue that enters 
 into the construction of his play, and he has in a remarkable degree avoided the 
 prosy verbiage with which the efforts of novices are usually encumbered. The 
 language is generally suited to the characters to which it is attributed, and 
 contains nothing, even in the occasional sla.ng unavoidable, that appeals disa- 
 agreeably to the taste and interest of a refined audience. Morning C all, Ftb. 15. 
 
 At the-Metropolitan we have to chronicle a real success, all the more pleasing 
 that the piece is written by a pretty good boy, Billy Bausman, "one of our 
 selves." There are individual scenes in early California worthy of the hand of 
 a practiced dramatist, and the plot is quite up to the average. Whatever 
 faults it may have, it is a true picture of life on this coast in the good old times, 
 while several of the characters are individually excellent. The Court in the 
 bar-room is, of itself, a capital scene. The piece has been well mounted, and 
 Mr. Bert deserves the success he has earned, and deserved for the production of 
 a home-made novelty. News Letter, Feb. 17. 
 
 " Early California," the local play written by Mr. Bausman, which has run 
 successfully for the past week against all attractions elsewhere, arid even a little 
 bad weather thrown in, will be given at the "matinee" to-day and in the even 
 ing, and then will, probably, be withdrawn, though the management might 
 
 nians;" even at this day they have their counterparts in other new mining 
 countries on the coast. " Early California " has brought into notice a rich lead 
 to be worked by dramatists, and is suggestive of some startling sensations. -- 
 AUa, Feb. 22. 
 
 " Early California " has proved a winning card, drawing the largest houses 
 of the season, and continues to pan out handsomely. It is on the bills for this 
 evening, and will be run a few nights longer. But those who want to see it 
 and every old Californian ought to see it, as well as those who know <^f the 
 early days only by tradition, ought to witness the graphic picture of the flush 
 times portrayed by one who has oeen there and can faithfully reproduce the 
 most startling drama in real life of this era should not fail to secure seats 
 early. Post, Feb. 19. 
 
 Mr. Bausman s local drama, entitled " Early California," has had an almost 
 unprecedented run, having kept its place on the Metropolitan boards four 
 teen consecutive representations always drawing full houses when the we-ither 
 would admit. This is encouraging to the author and creditable to home talent, 
 which can produce a drama that contains merit and receives the applause of the 
 most discriminating audiences in the world. " Early California " is infinitely 
 superior to most of the trashy sensational plays that have been brought to this 
 city from the East, and will be more popular abroad than at home, on account 
 of its faithful portraiture of pioneer California history. May it prove a fortune 
 to its author. Examiner, Feb. 24. 
 
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 5 
 
 For two weeks " Early California " has held the boards at this house to a 
 good paying- business, showing- that, notwithstanding the circumstances under 
 which it was produced, the drama possessed sufficient intrinsic merit to gain a 
 strong holl on the public. All honor to Mr. Bailsman for his contribution to 
 our local dramatic literature. Chronicle, Feb. 24. 
 
 Bailsman s play, " Early California," held the boards at the Metropolitan 
 for ten nights. Considering the limited theater-going population of this city, 
 this is a grand success -the more noteworthy, when if, is remembered that the 
 Metropolitan, being closed so long, has grown somewhat out of fashion, and 
 that Wheatleigh, always a great favorite on this coast, was playing at the 
 California. A run of ten nights is in fact equivalent to a run of two hundred 
 in New York. We rejoice at this success, not merely because it has been won 
 by one of the most deserving and hard working gentlemen of the editorial pro 
 fession, but because it shows that California audiences can appreciate a good 
 play by a California author. " Early California " ought to be brought out in 
 the East; it would take there. In the meantime we congratulate "Mr. Baus- 
 miUL. Poft, Feb. 27. 
 
 Mr. Proctor has undoubtedly made another hit with Bailsman s play of 
 "Early California," Last evening it was introduced to an excellent house, 
 and the audience was enthusiastic in its expressions of commendation. The 
 play of itself possesses considerable merit. One of the virtues of the play is 
 that the dialogues are crisp and lively, and the scenes short. It contains many 
 natural situations, and is quite a correct picture of old times in California. 
 California Kccord, March 7. 
 
 Bausman s " Early California" is still running 1 , and already achieved the 
 greatest success of the season at this house. Post, Feb. 22. 
 
 Mr. Bausman s local drama of "Early California," has had an almost un 
 precedented run, having kept its place on the Metropolitan boards for fourteen 
 consecutive representations, always drawing full houses when the weather 
 would admit. Post, Ftb. 28. 
 
 -Mr. Bausman s meritorious local sensational drama continues to draw at 
 this house. Its clever dialogue, sharp pictures of mining scenes and incidents, 
 well-marked characters" Missouri Bill," " Tim O Donnell and " Uncle 
 Charley," in particular drew amused audiences nightly. Bulletin, Feb. 21. 
 
 Mr. Bausman s local drama of "Early California" has met with a very 
 decided success at the hands of the public. Produced before a large and critical 
 audience, it has held the boards for thirteen nights, and could have been con 
 tinued if other engagements had permitted. ******* 
 The literary merits of the play began to appear when the actors became familiar 
 with the author s language. The many sensational scenes were well played. 
 Golden Era, Feb. 26. 
 
 A large and fashion able audience was in attendance at this house last night, 
 on which occasion Bausman s new play, entitled " Early California," was pro 
 duced for the first time in this city. The piece was placed on the stage in a 
 superior manner, and for a first performance was creditable alike to author, 
 performers, artists and machinists. * * * * 
 
 "Early California" is a good play, superior to the Red Pocket Book, and is 
 deserving of a long and successful run. Sacramento Reporter, March 7. 
 
 The new play, by Bausman, was produced last night by Proctor. The name 
 suggests that the play would be, as it is, sensational; and the plot is sufficient 
 to introduce representations of the most exciting scenes in early California life. 
 The long run it had at San Francisco, and the very full house which witnessed 
 its advent here and which will, doubtless, be often repeated, attest its success. 
 Sacramento Bee, Marck 7. 
 
 11 Early California " proves to be a great success, and improves on acquaint 
 ance. There was another large and fashionable audience present last night, 
 
D OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 and the piece went off splendidly. The beautiful scenery of the drama was the 
 subject of much commendation, particularly that portion of the fourth act de 
 lineating the mining operations of former days. Everybody should see " Early 
 California. Sacramento Reporter, March 8. 
 
 " Early California " at each successive representation increases in attract 
 iveness. An immense house witnessed it last night and again this afternoon. 
 To-night is the last announced representation, but there are so many still 
 anxious to see it or see it over again, that the management may be compelled 
 to reproduce it next week. Sacramento Bee, March 9. 
 
 The drama of " Early California," on its production last evening, was much 
 better performed than on Wednesday night, and was received with great favor 
 by the audience. There is much in it that appeals to the sympathies and recol 
 lections of the California public, and therefore it will continue to draw good 
 houses for many nights. The attendance last night was very large. Sacra- 
 ynento Union, March 8. 
 
 The attendance at this house, Saturday afternoon and evening, was large 
 and fashionable. The play of "Early California" seems to have taken the 
 people by storm, and certainly is a praiseworthy production, reflecting the 
 highest credit on manager Proctor, for the very liberal manner in which he has 
 placed it on the stage. It will be performed for the last time this (Sunday) 
 evening, and all those who have not seen it should attend. Saeramcnto 
 Reporter, March 10. 
 
 Manager Proctor has made Bailsman s drama of " Early California " a 
 grand success at the Metropolitan. The house is crowded every evening. It is 
 put upon the stage with taste and liberality, while the cast of characters is 
 excellent, and the parts well sustained. Sacramento Free Press, March 9. 
 
 At the Metropolitan, " Early California " has proved a winning card, and 
 has filled the house nightly since it was produced. It is highly sensational, 
 and many of the characters drawn to the life. , F. far, Virginia Jnterprsf t 
 Feb. 16, 
 
CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 The Drama of EARLY CALIFORNIA was produced at the Metropolitan 
 Theater, San Franciaco, under the management of MR. E. G. BERT, on the 
 night of the 14th February, 1872. and had a run of sixteen successive repre 
 sentations. Following was the cast of characters : 
 
 ERRANT MR. JAMES M. HARDIE. 
 
 MISSOURI BILL MR. JOHN WOODARD. 
 
 COATES MR. PIERPONT THAYER. 
 
 MANGEL GARCIA MR. HARRY COLTON. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY MR. J. H. VINSON. 
 
 MR. MILTON MR. J. H. McCABE. 
 
 JEFF MIKS MAGGIE MOORE. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER MR. WILLIE SIMMS. 
 
 DR. AMHEBST MR. R. BELMOUR, 
 
 TIM O DONNELL MR. T. E. JACKSON. 
 
 MIKE MR. E. KELLY. 
 
 PRESTON MR. J. CROWELL. 
 
 MB. JONES MR. L. HAVEN. 
 
 STEVE RIPPLES MR. GEO. HINCKLEY. 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE MR. ORVILLE WILSON. 
 
 MATE OF THE STEAMER MR. J. WALTERS. 
 
 CARLOTTA Miss HENRIETTA OSBORNE. 
 
 MRS. GRUBBS MRS. FRANK RAE. 
 
 MAGGIE. . . , ... Miss ADA DBA YES. 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE FIKST An Editor s office, well furnished, with carpel. 
 
 ERRANT. (Discovered at editorial desk.} Another contribution to 
 the greedy maw of public expectation. (Advances to footlights, and 
 holds up pen.} Ah, thou little implement, how much of undeserved 
 reputation hast thou blazoned ! How many noble thoughts depicted ! 
 How many philosophical reflections embodied. The tomes of his 
 tory are thy biography ! Without thee tradition perishes. The 
 troubadors who despised thee are extjnct, and their improvised 
 sonnets forgotten. With thy aid, the epics and heroics of the dead 
 poets still survive to crown their names with immortality ! " The 
 pen," saith the dramatist, " is mightier than the sword ;" and the 
 dramatist has said truly. It is the architect of mind that molds its 
 language into form, and frescoes it with the word-limning of the 
 scholar. It rescues, preserves, transmits and fixes its subject like 
 the granite base, for the building of a structure of fame. It stim 
 ulates the prosperity of States, and secures the triumph of diplomacy. 
 Heroes depend upon it for their ovations. To literature it is the 
 galleon, with flowing sails freighted with intellectual treasures. 
 The down-hearted take courage from the fearlessness of its stric 
 tures, and tyrants tremble at its power. This is thy eulogy, my 
 companion, and my friend. Plucked though thou be from an igno 
 ble wing, the Damacus steel can make no deeper or surer incision. 
 The sword has no such panegyric. The phrase, " It destroys," 
 is at once its history and its epitaph and for the record of even 
 this brief sentence, it is indebted to thee. Yes, thou art much 
 greater than the sword ; and so let the thesis and the antithesis 
 of thy measurement go together. (A rap at door.} Come in. No 
 need of ceremony here. 
 
 MR. MILTON. Is this the editorial office? 
 
 ERRANT. It is. Be seated. Can I serve you ? 
 
 MR. Mu/roN. My business is with the editor. You are not, I 
 perceive, that gentleman. 
 
 ERRANT. No, the editor will be absent to a late hour of the 
 night. 
 
 MR. MiLTON. And how long will his duties then continue ? 
 
 ERRANT. Bless you, sir; ask, rather, when will they end. The 
 quarry-slave has moments of recreation ; the factory operative a 
 time to retire from his loom ; the cart-horse is relieved of his har- 
 
10 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ness afc night-fall ; but the newspaper-man has no respite. His 
 duties are arduous and never-ending. 
 
 MR. MILTON. In an affair of business I suppose you could rep 
 resent Mr. Quod ? 
 
 ERRANT. Yes, if it is not strictly personal. 
 
 MR. MILTON. You are connected with the office, then? How 
 may I class you ? 
 
 ERRANT. I am a city reporter. 
 
 MR. MILTON. And what is the line of your duties ? 
 
 ERRANT. That phrase is too conventional. A reporter has no 
 line. Like the comet, he is eccentric. His orbit is all across the 
 intellectual sky, and he has a brilliancy entirely his own. His in 
 dependence is so well assured, that he regards neither Papal bull 
 nor Imperial rescript. He is, in a sense, ubiquitous " here, there, 
 everywhere to-day taking notes of a suit at law ; to-morrow 
 writing letters from the capital next day gathering information 
 in the mines always employed, sketching, gleaning and ampli 
 fying. 
 
 MR. MILTON. And the editor ? 
 
 ERRANT. He is the throttle-valve to the machine, that regulates 
 its pressure of steam ; a mere constructor of dreamy vaporings, 
 called "leaders," which nobody cares for, and but few read. He 
 is used by the politicians as a ladder, to climb into office, and when 
 they are done with him, they kick him over, in gratitude for his 
 favors. But your business, sir ? Now to attend to that. 
 
 MR. MILTON. Hei-e, sir, is a small box, containing deeds and 
 other valuable papers. I am something of a stranger in the city, 
 but well acquainted with Mr. Quod. Into his hands I knew I 
 could entrust it for safe keeping. My business h-as been interrupted 
 by a note received only an hour ago, which summons me immedi 
 ately back to the mountains. I expected my wife and daughter to 
 arrive on the steamer, but they have not come. I must leave on. 
 the afternoon boat, and there is no time left to seek a different place 
 of deposit for the box if I desired to. I will trouble you, if you 
 please, to take charge of it in the absence of Mr. Quod. Say to 
 him that I expect to return to the city in a short time, and will 
 then relieve him of its care. 
 
 ERRANT. Rely upon my fidelity, and rest assured your confi 
 dence shall not be betrayed. Come with me it is but a step and 
 see where the box is bestowed. 
 
 SCENE SECOND. A street (Enter Dr. Amherst and Tim 
 O DonneU.) 
 
 DR. AMHERST. I tell you, I ve nothing for you to do unless 
 you can play. 
 
 TIM. Play, is it? Be jabers that s just to my hand, when the 
 hand s a good un. When I was in practice, divil a one of thiin 
 could bate me, from Slippery Mike to the ould man that tossed the 
 coppers at Kerry. 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 11 
 
 DR. AMIIERST. But, my good man, the parts in a theatre are 
 not performed with cards. They are dramatic. 
 
 TIM. The mattock, or the shovel, aither. It s all the same, as 
 I m aiqually good at both. 
 
 DR. AMIIEKST. You don t seem to understand. Have you ever 
 been on the stage ? 
 
 TIM. Av coorse I have \ inside and on the boot. Be gorra, for 
 the matter o that, I ve worn the livery, too, wid a cape and brass 
 buttons on my coat. 
 
 DR. AMIIERST. No, no ; not that. Have you ever done any 
 thing in a theatre ? 
 
 TIM. To be sure ; I helped to bate the carpets. 
 
 DR. AMHERST. Call at the box-office and ask for employment. 
 Maybe you can get occupation as a supe. 
 
 TIM. Divil take your soups. I can buy my own bread and per- 
 taters. 
 
 DR. AMIIERST. There s no use parleying farther. You will 
 not suit. 
 
 TIM. How do you know that, until you try me ? 
 
 DR. AMIIERST. You must excuse me now. I see a friend coming 
 with whom I have a little business. Good day. 
 
 TIM. Good day to, yez. (Aside.} Yer a gintleman, onyhoW 
 in yer own concait, but I ve seed yer batters. G-ood day to vez. 
 (Exit.} 
 
 (Enter Mr. Milton.} 
 
 DR. AMIIERST. Ah, Mr. Milton, I m glad to meet you again. 
 I want more explicit instructions about the mansion. It is to be 
 suitable for your wife and daughter ? the house to be purchased in 
 the name of the latter, and well furnished throughout ? 
 
 MR. MILTON. That is my wish. The sum I gave you is it 
 sufficient ? 
 
 DR. AMHERST. More than necessary. There will be a balance ; 
 what shall I do with it ? 
 
 MR. MILTON. Bank it to my credit, or keep it till we meet 
 again. But come ; I am on my way to the Sacramento boat, and 
 have no time to spare. "We can speak of this matter as we pass 
 along. (Exeunt.} 
 
 Enter Coates and Garcia. 
 
 COATES. You are certain he received the note ? 
 
 GARCIA. Positive. Mike delivered it into his own hand. 
 
 COATES. How did he receive the news ? 
 
 GARCIA. With some surprise, and a certain amount of agitation. 
 " A piece of villainy," said he, " and I must attend to the affair at 
 onoe." This language, you must know, referred not to the author 
 of the note, but the news it communicated. 
 
 COATES., (Looking at his watch.} It is now after three o clock. 
 At four the old man will be on his way to Sacramento. To-morrow, 
 at daylight,, the coach will leave for Shasta. Next night, if he is 
 
12 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 fortunate in his connections, he will be at the bar. He had no sus 
 picion, then, that the letter was a forgery ? 
 
 GARCIA. Not the slightest, but swallowed the bait as if it had 
 been sugar-coated. 
 
 COATES. Now for a departiire. It is necessary we should be at 
 the bar as soon as he before, if possible. 
 
 GARCIA. Why so much hurry? We re having a jolly time, 
 and the purse will hold out a week longer. 
 
 COATES. And what then ? 
 
 GARCIA. We ve been in tighter places, and always managed to 
 pull through. 
 
 COATES. Garcia, I fear you have no heart in this affair. 
 
 GARCIA. Why should I have ? It s nothing that concerns me. 
 
 COATES. True. I had not thought of that. With you it is the 
 adventure of a chevalier with me, a motive of revenge. Had you 
 been insulted, rejected, spurned, as I have been, it might be differ 
 ent. It was hard to crush out the yearnings of a loving heart to 
 stifle an honorable ambition that gilded my sky of future promise. 
 Look ye, Garcia, it has not been said to you, in this case, as to me 
 " The convicted forger shall never mingle his blood with the current 
 that flows in offspring of mine !" They were bitter words, Garcia, 
 bilfter words, and did much towards making me the outcast I am. 
 
 GARCIA. How did the old man hear of your mishap ? You told 
 me it occurred somewhere out West. 
 
 COATES. Can crime flatter itself with the hope of concealment ? 
 There were observing eyes upon me, and tattling tongues, to pub 
 lish the story of my disgrace. I might have reformed and become 
 a good citizen , if the world had not hunted me down. Now I live 
 only for revenge. The highest ambition I cherish is, to get even. 
 
 GARCIA. It is to be simply a case of robbery, eh ? No violence, 
 or bloodshed, or anything of that sort ? 
 
 COATES. Enterprises of the kind must be conducted according 
 to the circumstances that surround them. I want his money first, 
 and his daughter next. Do you understand ? The surest will be 
 the best method to obtain both. 
 
 GARCIA. Well, our destinies are blended, and we will follow 
 them out together. 
 
 COATES. Remember, the affair is one that demands coolness and 
 resolution. 
 
 GARCIA. Perform your part as well as I shall mine, and there 
 will be no cause for recrimination. (Exeunt.} 
 
 (Enter Mrs. Grubbs and Maggie, meeting Mike.) 
 
 MRS. GRUBBS. Can you tell us, sir, is it far to the mines ? 
 
 MIKE. I might, if I knew where you wanted to go. What mines, 
 good woman? 
 
 MRS. GRUBBS. Oh, to be sure. I spose there is more than one 
 of them. 
 
 MIKE. I should think so. 
 
EAKLY CALIFORNIA. 13 
 
 MRS. GRUBBS. Where is it we are to go, Maggie ? 
 
 MAGGIE. To Texas Bar, he said. 
 
 MRS. G-RUBBS. Yes, to Texas Bar. Do you know where that is ? 
 
 MIKE. I could tell you better if I heard the county. 
 
 MAGGIE. Here, Aunt, is the paper. It reads, " Texas Bar, 
 Trinity County." We must inquire for Missouri Bill, who keeps 
 a trading post there. 
 
 MRS. GRUBBS. I remember now. That s the direction. A 
 young m-an calling himself Jeff., who said he was clerk at the post, 
 engaged us. He took a fancy to my niece here, and told her she 
 could make her fortune in the mines. You see, she has been 
 brought up on the boards, as they call it, and can dance, and sing, 
 and do chores. I am to wash and attend to the cooking, 
 
 MIKE. Have you any money ? 
 
 MRS. GRUBBS. A little. We ve never lacked* for that, since 
 we ve been in California. 
 
 MIKE. The boat will leave in a few minutes, and you ll be left 
 if you don t ride. My hack s at the corner. I rather like the looks 
 of the gal myself, and I ll take you both down to the wharf for six 
 dollars. So, hurry up, if you re going. 
 
 MRS. GRUBBS. We must be there certain, Maggie, to make 
 them rangements. Here s the money, sir. O, dear ; 0, dear ! 
 (Exeunt.} 
 
 (Enter Tim O Donnell.} 
 
 TIM. That last chap that I met at Martin & Horton s is a purty 
 speciment of human nathur. A Mohamedown, I think they tould 
 me he was, who wears a red cap and worships the murtherin im- 
 posther. He carries pies and things on a boord before him, and 
 clanks a couple of sthicks together, bawling out, " Cakes! cakes!" 
 And divil the more Inglish than that does he know. Howly St. 
 Pathrick ! if an Irishman is to be schandalized by associating wid 
 such scum, it s a penance he ll have to do to get the odor from his 
 garments. But it s a fra counthry , cushla, and there s no tellin but 
 I ll come to cake-sellin one of tham days meself. Mrs. O Donnell 
 would niver object to thot, for she has a swate tooth in her head ; 
 and thot s where the difficulty might be ; for be my sowl ! she 
 would ait up all the profits. 
 
 (Enter Mike.} 
 
 MIKE. Good day to you, Pat. 
 
 TIM. Pat and be d d to you, ye spalpeeu. 
 
 MIKE. No offence. Dennis will do as well. 
 
 TIM. Nor Dennis, aither. If ye would be civil to a gintleman, 
 ye may call me Tim. 
 
 MIKE. A very good name. 
 
 TIM. Ye may well say thot. Me forefaders honored it in the 
 wearin of it, and it came down to me by the right of family dis- 
 cint. 
 
 MIKE. How else shall I call you? 
 
14 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 TIM. O Donnell Tim. O Donnell, from the County Clare ; by 
 occupation master of my profession. 
 
 MIKE. And what is that ? 
 
 TlM. You ll niver find out till ye employ me. 
 
 MiKB. You reside in the city, I suppose P 
 
 TlM. Don t be too hasty in your suppositions, for the questions 
 a difficult one to answer. 
 
 MIKE. How long have you been in the State ? 
 
 TIM. Bedad, not long ; and it s work I must be afther doin if 
 I live in it much longer. 
 
 MIKE. Of course you re a Democrat? Your countrymen all 
 vote with our party, you know. 
 
 TlM. And is it a profitable business thot they foind it ? 
 
 MIKE. It may be made so. 
 
 TlM. Gro on ; for I m interested in yer conversation. 
 
 MIKE. You must be made a citizen at once. An election takes 
 place before long, and we shall want your vote. 
 
 TIM. Oh, ye will, eh ? 
 
 MIKE. There s a card containing directions where you can find 
 me. I have a job of work waiting for you. 
 
 TlM. And is it honest work ye mane ? 
 
 MIKE. Entirely honest, and good pay, at that. (Exit.} 
 
 TlM. Be me sowl, now, but that s the mon I ve been lookin for. 
 Hoop ! Tim yer in luck ! Work, and honest work, and good pay ! 
 That s what it is to be in a fra counthry, where whisky is plenty, 
 and lots of goold to buy it with, and they call it Californy ! (Exit.} 
 
 SCENE THIRD. Missouri Bill s trading post Miners seated round 
 a table Steve standing in front of Bar A song and jig. 
 
 MISSOURI BILL. How s the diggins a-payin , boys ? 
 
 STEVE. I ve struck it rich, Bill. 
 
 BILL. Thar, now ; I told yer that a ar blue streak war ent put 
 into the gravel for nothin . 
 
 STEVE. Three ounces to the pan. 
 
 BILL. Lord ! Why, that a ar almost comes up to Mr. Milton s 
 claim. But whar s the dust ? 
 
 STEVE. (Going to the door.} Jeff, bring in the pan. 
 
 BILL. Sich luck as that ll set yer up, shu , Steve. Yer needn t 
 ax For tin for nothin better. 
 
 (Jeff enters with pan, and exhibits gold to audience.} 
 
 STEVE. Almost good enough to stand treat on. Eh, Bill ? 
 
 BILL. Wa al, I keeps lickers, and thar for sale. Jeff got back 
 to-day with the train, and he s brought up the best that Frisco 
 could afford. Come boys ; yer a.11 wanted. (Miners advance to bar 
 and drink. } \ 
 
 STEVE. I say, Jeff, did you see Mr. Milton at the Bay ? 
 
 BILL. I ve heern that Mr. Milton a ar returned a-ready. 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 15 
 
 STEVE. Why, he expected to be gone a couple of weeks. Did 
 his family come on the steamer ? 
 
 BILL. Pears thar wa ar some failure in thar a-gettin of the 
 news. 
 
 STEVE. It s curious he shoxild be back so soon, when no one ex 
 pected him. But he s a man that s always welcome among men, 
 and I ll be right glad to see him. 
 
 BILL. And I too. He s allers straightfor ard and squar ; ready 
 at any time to help a nabor, and not a bit of ugliness in him. 
 
 STEVE. What say you, boys, to a friendly game of draw for the 
 liquors ? 
 
 ALL. Yes, a game. 
 
 STEVE. Shall we deal you a hand, Bill ? 
 
 BILL. No. Since Mr. Milton a ar back, I hev some bisness to 
 attend to with him. 
 
 STEVE. Very well. Jeff, hand us a deck of cards. 
 
 (Enter Mr. Milton.} 
 
 BILL. Bless me, ef thar a rnt Mr. Milton now. Ra al glad to 
 see ycr, Mr. Milton. Why, yer back sooner nor we expected ye d 
 be. (Miners flock round and shake hands with Mr. Milton, Jeff in 
 cluded.} 
 
 MR. MILTON. (Glancing furtively around.} Yes, much sooner 
 than I expected myself. A note containing certain information of 
 an unnecessarily alarming character, was placed in my hand at San 
 Francisco, summoning me to return to the mountains at once. But 
 as I was disappointed in not finding my family on the steamer, it is 
 just as well. I am brought all the sooner into companionship with 
 my good friends. Gentlemen (turning to miners at table] I am not 
 much of a drinker, as you know, but on this occasion, I should be 
 happy to have you join me in a glass. 
 
 ALL. Certainly, Mr. Milton, (advancing to bar.) 
 
 BILL. I ll wait on yer, Mr. Milton, myself. Here s ra al good 
 Sherry. (All drink.) Tend to yer game, boys, I hev somethin to 
 say to Mr. Milton. (Draws Milton to front.} I wa ar a comin 
 over to see yer, Mr. Milton. I hev bin to siderable spence lately, 
 luyin in stores, buy in a pack-train and buildin a dition to the 
 post, and I thought ef yer had it to spa ar for three months, or sich 
 a matter, that I d ask yer for the loan of six thousand dollars. 
 
 MR. MILTON. My old friend, the favor you ask shall willingly 
 be granted. And in return, I have a secret to confide to you, which 
 I would entrust to but few men but yourself. You are aware that 
 my claim has paid enormously of late. A considerable portion of 
 the money has been invested, and a part is in good hands for further 
 outlay ; but there is still a large balance left. This, as you may 
 suspect, I have buried. It is to you, and you alone, that I wish to 
 point out the place of its concealment. Then, if any accident 
 should occur to me, you can restore it to my family. 
 
16 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 BILL. Lord, Mr. Milton ! Who d a-think of injurin you ? 
 
 MR. MILTON. It s hard to tell, Bill. The world is full of bad 
 people. And to confess the truth, the signs of danger have been 
 frequent of late. 
 
 BILL. Sho ! A ar that so? 
 
 MR. MILTON. (Close to Bill s ear, and glancing around.} Too 
 true, my friend. Listen. A letter was handed me in San Francisco, 
 informing me that my claim had been jumped, and that if I did 
 not return immediately, it would be lost to me. This, I found, on 
 reaching the Bar, was a base fabrication. But there was some mo 
 tive for the falsehood. Besides, other events have recently trans 
 pired to cause me despondency. However, let that pass. Your 
 business remains, and we will go at once and attend to it. 
 
 BILL. But the seurity, Mr. Milton ; the scurity. 
 
 MR. MILTON. Never mind that. Your honor shall stand in lieu 
 of writings. I would trust you for a much larger sum on your 
 mere word. 
 
 BILL. (Dashing a tear from his eye.} Now, that s what I 
 call partik lar manly. (Exeunt.} 
 
 STEVE. Boys, the game s getting dull. Jeff, let s have some 
 liquor. 
 
 (Enter Uncle CTuwley and Irippletopper.} 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. At it again, eh ? 
 
 STEVE. Only a game for the drinks, Uncle Charley. Won t 
 you take a hand ? 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Now, that d look well, wouldn t it, in a 
 magistrate of only two weeks standin ? Twouldn t do. Besides, 
 it s late, and I m on the way to the cabin. How s it bin with you 
 in the diggins to-day, boys ? Lucky ? 
 
 STEVE. Nothing to complain of but a scarcity of water. What ll 
 you take, Uncle Charley ? 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Bourbon straight. Don t git up ; I ll drink 
 at the bar. Here s to ye, lads ; and may ye sleep sounder nor I will 
 ter-night, for the skeeters is awful on the creek. 
 
 STEVE. (Pointing to Irippletopper.} That s the new-comer of a 
 pettifogger. He has his nose in everybody s business. 
 
 TRIPFLETOPPER. (Advancing to card table.} A pleasant game, . 
 I hope, gentlemen. Fine recreation after the labors of the day. 
 Harmless entirely harmless. The weary miner requires diversion 
 and a liquid stimulus before retiring to rest. Innocent sport, when 
 money is plenty, to decide who shall bear the expense. A mere 
 contest of friendship, in which the loser is but little out, and 
 achieves all the honor. 
 
 STEVE. (Aside.} Now he s fishing for a drink. (To Tripple- 
 topper.} I say, Mr. Lawyer, do you ever imbibe ? 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. On my word ! Ah ! I see your drift. You 
 would pose me. Capital ! I thank you. Mind, no less than 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 17 
 
 triiiscle wears. Both are rejuvenated by a social glass. (Advances 
 to bar.} 
 
 JEFF. I gues? not. This bar gives no credit. 
 
 TitirPL STOPPER. Do not misunderstand me, young man. I 
 made no demand. Your liquors are an abomination, and death 
 lingers in the cup. (Aside.} No chance for a drink here. (Aloud,} 
 Good night, gentlemen ; a very good night. (Aside.} The last 
 chance is a pull at Uncle Charley s flask. (Aloud.} A very good 
 night. I say a very good night. 
 
 UNCLE CHAIILEY. (Taking Irippletopper s arm.} Come along 
 Tripplecoffers ; I ve bin awaitin on ye. (Exeunt Uncle Charley and 
 Trippletopper.} 
 
 (Enter Coates and Garcia.} 
 
 COATES. (To G-arcia.} Let me do the talking, and there ll be 
 no conflict of stories. Gentlemen, we are strangers in these parts, 
 on our way to Scott Mountain. "We are without blankets, and 
 would like to have a night s lodging. 
 
 STEVE. Jeff, here s a little business for you to attend to. 
 
 JEFF. I suppose we can accommodate you in some way ; but you 
 must take it as it comes. The floor s the best we can do for you. 
 
 COATES. That will do. Any port in a storm, you know. Gen 
 tlemen, will you take something ? 
 
 STEVE. For myself, no. (Aside.) There s a look about that 
 fellow I don t like. ( Aloud.) WeVe had enough ; or, if we want 
 
 more, there s money in the pot to pay for it. Comej boys, let s .go 
 home. 
 
 ALL. Good night, Jeff. (Exeunt miners.) 
 
 JEFF. Good night, boys. 
 
 COATES. These miners are very particular, and not over-scrupu 
 lous about giving offence. But never mind. My friend here and I, 
 will test the quality of your liquors. 
 
 JEFF. (Going to door.) Joe, bring in the blankets. 
 
 COATES. Are you the proprietor here ? 
 
 (Enter Joe with blankets, and exit.} 
 
 JEFF. No. Missouri Bill runs this institution. 
 
 COATES. And where is he now ? 
 
 JEFF. He went off a while ago with Mr. Milton, but he ll be 
 back directly. (Coates and Garcia exchange glances.) 
 
 COATES. Then we ll wait for him. 
 
 JEFF. You needn t. When there s strangers here, me and him 
 sleeps on the hay in the corral. 
 
 COATES. I m glad of that, for my friend is troubled with ner 
 vous spells, and sometimes walks the floor at nights. It would be 
 no disturbance, I hope ? 
 
 JEFF. Not to us in the corral. We re used to worse noises nor 
 that. Here s yer " shake-down," and I m off to my roost. (Exit.} 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
18 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 COATES. (Looking out of door, slightly opened.} He disappears. 
 Everything works to a charm. (Another look.) All quiet. No one 
 stirring. Now to the object in hand. 
 
 GARCIA. ( Who has drank several times from bottle, and robbed the 
 pan.} I suppose you know the way ? 
 
 COATES. Perfectly ; but we must avoid the trail. The coast is 
 clear. Quick ; let us be off. A curse on the liquor. It burns in 
 my brain like a coal of fire. (A distant cry heard loithout. Tableau, 
 Coates and Garcia crouching.} 
 
 SCENE FOURTH In the mines. Enter Uncle Charley and 
 Trippletopper. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPEK. My dear sir, you are wrong. This is lex 
 terrae. The King may no more violate it than his humblest sub 
 ject. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Now, see here, Tripplecoffers 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Trippletopper, if you please. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Well, Tripplecoppers ; thar s no use argerin 
 agin justice. The law makes rogues of honest men, and pertects 
 scoundrels. Give a murderer or a thief money, and he kin go 
 through its sophistrees as easily as through a spider s web ; but with 
 out friends which can be bought, the law falls on and crushes him. 
 Don t talk to me about law. I despise it ; and I say that law, in a 
 gineral way, is a gineral humbug ; and bein a Justice of the Peace, 
 I orter to know. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. I m astounded, your honor. You a magis 
 trate, and use language like that. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. I hold thar should be right a-tween man and 
 man; and any law that says to the contrary, is agin the Constitu 
 tion and Declaration of Independence. Let no one dare to arger to 
 the contrary afore my Court, or I ll commit him for contempt, and 
 take pleasure in a-doin of it. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Erom the days of King John, when Magna 
 Charta 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Now, Tripplecoffers; them s words that 
 a ar a-hard for me to understand, and I Avant you to cut em short. 
 We re a-come to whar our roads divide ; and I ll jest say to yer, 
 afore partin. , that ef you practice afore me, thar must be more 
 strikin and less blowin . I ll not entertain yer tecknikalities. 
 Yer must come direct to the pint, and ef yer tempt to prove an 
 innocent man guilty, I ll send yer to jail for malice aforethought. 
 Ef I don t, may I be . (Exit.} 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Oh ! oh I He was about to say d n. Shades 
 of Blackstone, Story and Kent ! Venerable wearers of the ermine 
 and gown ! The comely structure of j urisprudence is overthrown ! 
 Dogberries have usurped thy temples, and the Daniels of legal lore 
 must now seek for occupation among the brutes ! (Exit.} 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 19 
 
 (Enter Jeff and Maggie.) 
 
 MAGGIE. Don t let us go any further, Jeff ; I m afraid in this 
 lonely region. 
 
 JEFF. Of what, Maggie ? 
 
 MAGGIE. I don t know; Indians, or grizzlies, or robbers. 
 
 JEFF. No danger, Maggie. The country, though new, is too 
 old for that. And then, ain t your Jeff by your side ? 
 
 MAGGIE. Well, if you think there s no danger, all right. I 
 love the moonlight, and to hear the rippling waters in the river. 
 And that reminds me, Jeff you promised to sing for me if I 
 walked. 
 
 JEFF. So I will, Maggie ; and dance too, if you like ; for I m in 
 excellent spirits. "What will you have ? 
 
 MAGGIE. The serenading song I admire so much. 
 
 JEFF. Very well ; here goes. 
 
 Open the Door to Me. 
 
 Open the door, love ; open to me ; 
 A zephyr of perfumes comes in from the sea ; 
 I ve kisses and vows for thee, ample in store. 
 Open the door to me open the door. 
 
 Open the door to me dim in the west, 
 Mid a cluster of stars, is the moon s fading crest ; 
 No longer in anger, the wave beats the shore 
 Open the door to me open the door. 
 
 Open the door to me; fondly I wait, 
 Like a bird that laments to be joined by its mate ; 
 The sorrow of parting shall pain us no more 
 Open the door to me open the door. 
 
 ENCORE SONG. 
 Three Thousand Miles Away, 
 
 I left my home in 49, 
 
 For California bound ; 
 When cash was low and ships were slow 
 
 That came the horn around ; 
 When ox-teams toiled the plains across 
 
 And made the journey gay-a-a. 
 And I found the land with the golden strand, 
 
 Three thousand miles away. 
 
 CHORUS: The iron horse is waiting, 
 
 He s snorting on the track ; 
 He paws the ground with a clicking sound, 
 
 To bear me safely ba-a-ck. 
 
 I leave in the morning train, to see my love again ; 
 It is not far, in a Pullman car- 
 Three thousand miles away. 
 
 The coach it is too slow ; 
 
 That kind of thing 1 s played out ; 
 Hill Beach s line can t come to tine, 
 
 And the pony s put to rout. 
 
20 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 O, for the jolly ra-a-a-il 
 
 Now everywhere in play, 
 In a week it 11 bear me to my love, 
 
 Three thousand miles away. 
 
 CHOEUS : The iron horse is waiting, etc. 
 
 O, I have "made the riffle" 
 
 My pocket s lull of "rocks;" 
 I ve beat the Beai-g in mining shares 
 
 And corne off with their stocks. 
 No use to write a letter 
 
 To my sweetheart to-da-a-ay, 
 The telegraph will make her laugh, 
 
 Three thousand miles away. 
 
 CHORUS : The iron horse is waiting, etc. 
 
 SCENE rlVE. Interior of Mr. Milton s cabin. Missouri Sill 
 discovered passing out of the door. 
 
 BILL. Mr. Milton, I shall never forget this favor. 
 
 MK. MILTON. Say no more about it Bill. Shall I walk with 
 you on the trail ? 
 
 BILL. No, I see a couple of nabors out thar, a-goin my way. 
 I ll soon kotch up with em. Good night, Mr. Milton, good night. 
 Ho, thar! (Exit.} 
 
 MR. MILTON. (Barring cabin door.) I am by no means supersti 
 tious, but an unaccountable sadness overcomes me, as if some 
 calamity impended. There were stealthy footsteps around the 
 cabin to-night ; and when I started for the post, something like a 
 shadow glided across the trail, and disappeared among the pines. 
 But these are idle fantasies, and I will dismiss them. There is care 
 enough in the realities of life, without borrowing trouble. (A rap 
 at the door.} This is a late and unusual hour for visitors. An- 
 other rap.} Ah ! it is Bill, come back to insist on the security. Who 
 knocks ? 
 
 COATES. ( Without}. Benighted strangers, but friends, who ask a 
 night s shelter. 
 
 MR. MILTON. ( Unbarring the door.} The act may be imprudent, 
 but never be it said I was deaf to an appeal for hospitality. Come 
 in. 
 
 . (Enter Coates and Garcia.} 
 
 COATES. Sorry to disturb you ; but the air is raw, and we are 
 thinly clad. We dared not trust ourselves to the ground without 
 blankets. 
 
 Mil. MILTON. You are welcome, gentlemen, to such humlle 
 accommodations as I have to offer. Will you be helped to food ? 
 
 COATES. Thank you, no. We dined heartily. You seem to be 
 alone ; and to my thinking, an isolated residence of the kind is 
 neither desirable nor pleasant in a wild region like this. 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 21 
 
 Mil. MiLTON. I have excellent neighbors, and a few books, with 
 which I manage to amuse myself in my leisure hours. 
 
 COATES. Have you been here long ? 
 
 MR. MILTON. In the county for several years. 
 
 COATES. From what State do you hail ? 
 
 MR. MILTON. From Missouri, last. 
 
 COATES. And what part ? 
 
 MR. MILTON. The somewhat famoxis Pike county. 
 
 COATES. I came from that section of country myself. 
 
 MR. MILTON. And you are called ? 
 
 COATES. Rodolph Coates. (Mr. Milton starts.) The name 
 does not seem to sound agreeably to you. 
 
 MR. MILTON. To tell the truth, you are not just the person I 
 should choose as a companion for the night ; or, for that matter, on 
 any occasion. But you are now an inmate of my cabin, and its 
 privileges shall be sacred to you. 
 
 COATES. You misjudged and wronged me deeply in that affair 
 about your daughter. 
 
 MR. MILTON. Mr. Coates, that is a matter we will not now dis 
 cuss. It is a subject that must prove disagreeable to us both. 
 
 COATES. But I would like to come to an understanding now. 
 
 MR. MILTON. There can be no understanding. I have never 
 regretted the circumstance to which you allude. If the scene 
 were to be re-enacted, I would perform the same part I did then. 
 Let us dismiss the subject. In the adjoining room is a bed. Oc 
 cupy it with your friend. It is accorded to you freely. 
 
 COATES. It is neither your bed nor the shelter of your roof I 
 came to share, but to demand the hand of your daughter. This 
 time I am prepared to enforce a favorable answer. 
 
 MR. MILTON. How, sir ! Insulting language, and a threat ! 
 
 COATP^S. Aye, both ; and your severe looks can neither deter 
 me, nor change my resolve. 
 
 MR. MILTON. Quit my cabin on the instant ! 
 
 GARCIA. That s the word, is it ? You re a joker you are. 
 (Shaking his finger under Milton s nose.) 
 
 MR. MILTON. And you leave, also, without forcing me to the 
 trouble of putting you out. 
 
 GARCIA. If that s your cue, let the strongest man be the win 
 ner. ( A grapple. Garcia stabs Milton in the breast. Coates stabs 
 him from behind.} 
 
 MR. MILTON. (Falls.) My presentiments are fulfilled. But it 
 is too late to avoid the danger. (Dies. Garcia robs body 
 of papers and gold watch.} 
 
 tJoATES. (Advancing to table.) What s this? An unfinished 
 letter to Carlotta. The thing of all others I most wanted. And 
 now, let s away. (Distant noise from without.} What noise was 
 that ! ( Tableau. Coates and Garcia crouch with drawn pistols 
 pointed through open door. Curtain falls.) 
 
22 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE FIRST. (A street.} 
 
 DR. AMHEKST. Are you sure, my man, that you are telling me 
 the truth ? 
 
 TIM. Faix, and I tell it to you, as it was towld to me, and if it s 
 a fiction, as they call it, you ve got it as chape as I did and it 
 didn t cost much. 
 
 DR. AMIIERST, He said that the Eastern housa of Pao- e , Bacon 
 & Co. had failed? 
 
 TIM. A felley who boarded the steamer at Meiggs wharf to 
 bring off the mail, whispered it as- a secret to Pat M agoffin, whose 
 hair stood on end, for his sister has a deposit of a hundred dollars 
 there, and he swore like the divil, for it was a power of money to 
 lose, do ye moind ! 
 
 Du. AMHEKST. A hundred dollars ! Why, I have ten thousand 
 there ; besides a sum not my own ! 
 
 TIM. Ten thousand ! Howly Moses ! you must own the bank ! 
 
 DR. AMHERST. (Looking at his watch.} Let me see ; it will be 
 nearly an hour before the steamer reaches her dock ; this will give 
 me time to reach the bank ; but not a moment is to be lost. 
 
 TIM. I beg your pardon, sir ; I was at your theatre, and enquired 
 for the man ye towld me of, but he was dafe, and I ve come back to 
 you again for instructions. 
 
 DR. AMHERST. You must excuse me now ; the affair of the 
 money is too important to be neglected. I ll see you some other 
 time. 
 
 TIM. Bedad, it would suit me betther to have an answer now. 
 
 DR. AMHERST. Impossible ; the minutes are too precious, and 
 nmst be improved, or I am a ruined man. 
 
 TIM. It wouldn t take long to wait till your hurry s over. 
 Spake to the boss for me. Tell him the situation must be aisy, and 
 little work to perform. Now, can t you do that for a gintleman 
 that s hai*d up ? 
 
 DR. AMHERST. Oh ! to the plague with you ! It is sheer non 
 sense to parley with you longer, (Exit.} 
 
 TIM. What the divil s the matter with the spalpeen ? It s a re 
 spectable occupation that I. have Walking about the streets with 
 me hands in me pockets ; and I m gettin out at the knuse. If I 
 was a Chinaman now, I could take in washin ; or a Digger Indian, 
 I might grub for roots ; but, on me sowl, it s mighty uncomfortable 
 for a fra man in a fra counthry to be hungry, with restiyarants all 
 around ; and I m divilish thirsty too. Bedad, that s a disease not 
 so hard to cure. I ll go down and sthand in front of Barry & Pat 
 ten s, and some of the boys will be .sure to invite me to drink. 
 (Exit.} 
 
f OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 SCENE SECOND. Interior of a banking Iwuse. Cashier discov 
 ered at a counter, Enter 
 
 DR. AMHERST. Good afternoon, Mr, Jones. This is an in 
 trusion. I am aware of it ; but great emergencies excuse the lack 
 of ceremony. This, to me, is such an occasion. There is an exi 
 gency in my theatrical affairs that requires the immediate with 
 drawal of my deposits. You need not remind me that it is after 
 banking hours. I know it. I do not come to make a demand, but 
 to ask a great favor, 
 
 MR. JONES. Doctor, you have a seductive manner. Your 
 speech is positively diplomatic. Why don t you apply for a situa 
 tion in one of the legations ? 
 
 DR. AMHERST. Ah, really; you are complimentary; but dis 
 patch, my dear sir, is now of the utmost importance, 
 
 MR, JONES. Is the occasion really so momentous, Doctor ? 
 
 DR, AMHERST, No event in my life has been more so. 
 
 MR. JONES. Heaven forbid that I should precipitate the catas 
 trophe ! ( Unlocking safe and producing two full bags of unequal 
 sizes.} The tags are right, and the seals unbroken. However, if 
 you desire it, we will spend a half hour in counting the money, 
 
 DR. AMHERST, No ; no. It is needless, and would consume too 
 much time, (Seizes bags and is retiring. Enter boy in haste, who 
 whispers in Jones" ear.} 
 
 JONES. What do you say ! Our Eastern house failed ? 
 
 DR. AMHERST. Yes ; and thank Fortune, I am secured ! 
 (A crowd rush in ; Tim of the number,} 
 
 AT.IJ. Our deposits ! or down with the Bank ! 
 
 TIM. And here s Pat McGroffiii for his sister s money, too ! 
 (Scene closes}. 
 
 SCENE THIRD. (A Street.} 
 
 COATES. This note, ostensibly from her father, is ingeniously 
 forged. In this disguise she cannot possibly recognize me. She 
 will go where the note directs her, not doubting that her father 
 wrote it. Then she will be completely in my power. Since the 
 stain of blood is on my hands, what further crime need I scruple to 
 commit ? I was respected once ; but let that pass. Fate may now 
 do her worst. The stake for which I play is worthy a great effort. 
 If I fail, it only remains to curse mankind and die. 
 
 MIKE. ( To Goates.} The steamer is in the offing, working slowly 
 in. Are you sure she is aboard ? 
 
 COATES. There is little doubt of it. I have sent to have her 
 brought off in a Whitehall boat, and shall be near to receive her. 
 Be on hand. Watch my movements, and bo ready to act. 
 
 MIKE. And she is to be driven to the housa you mentioned? 
 
 COATES. Direct. See to it, that no mawkish sympathy leads 
 you to betray yourself. 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 MIKE. Have no fear. The business is not new to me. It s you 
 that had better be on your guard. (Exit Coates}. 
 
 Enter 
 
 TIM. (Carrying a trunk.} If a feather will break the back of a 
 camel, a burthen like this ought to crush a mon intirely. 
 
 MIKE. Hallo, Tim ! What have you there ? 
 
 TIM. Ye may well ask thot. They tould me it was a trunk, but 
 said niver a word of what was in it. I was afther a job, and faix 
 I ve sthruck one to me sorrow. It s to go down to the warf, and 
 I m to be paid for it when it gets there. 
 
 MIKE. You re in luck to-day, Tim. 
 
 TIM. And ye think so ? Maybe ye would like to share thot part 
 of the business wid me. 
 
 MIKE. Is the trunk heavy ? 
 
 TIM. Heft it for yerself . Be the powers ! I m afther thinking 
 it s filled wid lead. 
 
 MIKE. How much are you to get for carrying it? 
 
 TIM. The matter o four bits. 
 
 MIKE. Four bits ! Why it s worth two dollars, at least, 
 
 TIM. Och, then, be me sowl I ve been swhindled. 
 
 MIKE. If you 11 bring the trunk to the corner you may put it on 
 my hack. I m going down to the wharf, and you can get up with 
 me on the box. 
 
 TIM. And how much will it cost for the ride? 
 
 MIKE. It sha nt cost you a cent. 
 
 TIM. That s raisonable, and I m wid ye in a jiffy. And bedad, 
 when I drive my own coach 1 11 return the compliment. (Staggers 
 while shouldering trunk.} Bad luck to the load. It grows heavier 
 after restin . 
 
 MIKE. I ll lend you a hand. Well, it is weighty. There must 
 be a cooking stove in it. 
 
 TIM. Worse than thot, be jabers ! I think it contains a whole 
 foundry. (Exeunt Mike and Tim.} 
 
 SCENE FOURTH. A wJuirf. (Enter) 
 
 COATES. The Whitehall approaches with my prize. Villainy 
 thou art a science ! Who says the wicked shall not prosper ? What 
 gospel of ethics shall circumvent crime ? Let the pious read lec- 
 tui-es ; the Divines preach conformity to law. There is a subtlety 
 in rascally invention that reaches higher a device of infamy that 
 baffles discovery. 
 
 MIKE. The small boat with its passenger draws nigh. 
 
 COATES. So much the better. Have your hack in readiness. 
 
 MIKE. It will answer to the call. 
 
 COATES. She comes, and the hour of my revenge draws near. 
 The rejected forger may yet find himself an accepted suitor. Pride 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 25 
 
 itself may be humbled by the ghost of penury, and the coldest heart 
 desire a protector in order to escape it. That I shall win and wear 
 her, are the foregone conclusions of an assured belief. (To Tim.) 
 Do you want a job ? 
 
 TIM. To be wanting is in my loine. Let the carcumstances be 
 agreeable, and ye may take yes for my answer. 
 
 COATES, Then remain here, and when the baggage from the 
 steamer is landed, take charge of so much of it as is marked " Car- 
 lot ta Milton." Be diligent. Hand the luggage over to Mike, and 
 here are a couple of dollars for your trouble, (Retires up.) 
 
 TIM. Two dollars! Och, bedad, that makes up for the dollar 
 and a half I lost on carrying the trunk wid the cooking stove in it. 
 (Carlotta is landed from Whitehall boat. Coates approaches 7ier,) 
 
 COATES. Miss Milton, I presume ? 
 
 CAKLOTTA. That is my name. 
 
 COATES. I was requested to hand you this note. 
 
 CARLOTTA. (Reading note.) It is from my dear father. He ex 
 cuses his absence, and tells me to place myself under the protection 
 of the proprietor of the Oriental Hotel. Are you the gentleman ? 
 
 COATES. The same. Unfortunately, at the present time the 
 house is closed for repairs. But you can trust yourself to this 
 worthy fellow, (pointing to Mike) who will see you handsomely 
 bestowed. 
 
 CARLOTTA. Thanks, sir. And is my dear father well ? 
 
 COATES. In excellent health. Your disappointment in not meet 
 ing him, will be shared by him. An urgent affair of business 
 accounts for his absence. But the separation will be brief ; and in 
 the meantime you shall be well taken care of, 
 
 CARL.OTTA. Again, I thank you. 
 
 COATES. Here, Mike, conduct this lady to your carriage, and 
 take her to her rooms. I will tarry, Miss Milton, until the steamer 
 hauls in, and look after your baggage. 
 
 MrKE. This way, Miss. (Exeunt Mike and Carlotta,) 
 
 COATES. Ah, my beauty ! You are mine already, without tha 
 wooing. Ere another day has passed, I shall have plucked the 
 flower whose fragrance invites to a banquet of bliss. (Exit.) 
 
 TIM. (Coming down.) Now, what the divil was it the gin tie- 
 man towld me I was to do for these two dollars ? I was to wait for 
 somebody or something that was to come off the steamer. A lady, 
 I think. Yes ; it was a lady. And her name ! Bad luck to me ! 
 It was Car Car Cara something. I have it Caroline. That s 
 it ; Caroline. And the other name was was was be me sowl, 
 what was it? Mull Mull Milligan Mulligan. Caroline Mulli 
 gan. Whoop, for a good mimory. I m to wait for, and take care of 
 Caroline Mulligan ; and where s onyone else that could do it loik 
 me ! 
 
 (Landing of steamer.) 
 
 FIRST RUNNER, Oriental. 
 
26 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 SECOND " Wilson s Exchange. 
 
 THIRD " Rassette House. 
 
 FOURTH " Mantic. 
 
 FIFTH " International. 
 
 MATE. Be quick, men. Make fast the line. Out with the 
 plank ! There now ; steady ! Let go ! 
 
 (Passengers land Tim seizing each woman tJiat comes ashore, 
 rushes her to the footlights, and scans her. features. Gets hold 
 of an old Irish woman, wJw proves a Tartar. A battle between them. 
 Curtain falls.) 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE FIRST. A Parlor. Enter 
 
 CABLOTTA. It is eleven o clock. The night has passed wearily. 
 I have waited patiently and watched. Every footstep on the stair 
 fills me with expectation. Though sent for, he comes not. Why 
 this delay ? He is the only one who can give me information of 
 my father. And this house ! What can it be ? It has strange 
 occupants. Oh, my dear father ! how my heart yearns to meet 
 him. Will he know me ? I was but a school girl when he left 
 home. And he must be changed. The frosts of sixty-five years 
 have silvered his locks. Still, he has a young heart and buoyant 
 nature. He was ever cheerful, and kind, and generous. Could he 
 have heard of mother s death P There is a joyousness about his 
 note (reperusing note] that tells me no. It will devolve upon me to 
 break it to him. Sad, sad duty ! It will break his heart ! Heaven 
 nerve me to the task ! (Enter Coates.) Ah, sir, it was cruel in 
 you to delay so long ! I have much to say to you many questions 
 to ask. As to this house, who and what are its inmates ? Do they 
 claim respectability ? 
 
 COATES. Why think otherwise ? 
 
 CARLOTTA. Their behavior is strange and rude. 
 
 COATES. California is a frontier country, and its society must 
 of course be more or less mixed. 
 
 CARL.OTTA. The people have been differently represented to me. 
 But, concerning my dear father when will he come ? Did he 
 leave no message for me ? 
 
 COATES. Yes no that is to say the note will explain all. 
 
 CARLOTTA. The note refers me to you, sir ; and you stammer and 
 hesitate. There is an ill-concealed embarrassment in your manner. 
 I demand a straightforward answer. 
 
 COATES. (Aside.} By Heaven! the old passion comes over me, 
 and I cannot restrain myself. (Aloud, throwing off his disguise. ) 
 Do you not know me, Carlotta ? 
 
 CARLOTTA. Who are you, sir ? 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 27 
 
 COATES. Ah, I had forgotten. It is seven years since we last 
 met. Then I threw myself at your feet, as I do now, to implore 
 your hand. If I am changed, oh, it is your coldness that has been 
 the cause. 
 
 CARLOTTA. (Starting back with surprise.} You, Rodolph Coates 
 You ! And why this deception ? 
 
 COATES. O, pardon my indiscretion ! Love, Carlotta a blind 
 ing, infatuated passion, has led me to risk everything to gain you. 
 
 CARLOTTA. Rise, sir, and leave me! This is the acting of a 
 part. Baseness is in your heart, and falsehood on your tongue. 
 
 COATES. You are unkind, lady cruel in your speech. Hear 
 me. I swear to you, that in the long years of our separation, I 
 have hoped and lived but to see you again. Forgive and forget the 
 past. United, the future will be to us full of happiness and 
 promise. 
 
 CARLOTTA. Begone, villain ! Love wears no disguise. It is 
 all purity and ingenuousness. Yours is the garb of hypocrisy, with 
 treachery in its design. If I rejected you at a time when I had no 
 esteem for you, now I despise and spurn you. 
 
 COATES. So proud and yet so dependant ! 
 
 CARLOTTA. No, not dependant, I have my honor still to sustain 
 me. 
 
 COATES. Think again. You do not mean this. You cannot be 
 so unkind, Carlotta, If I have been rash, and done wrong, oh, for 
 give me. Passion has blinded me to every rule of propriety, I 
 have indulged only the wild dream of possessing you, (Approaches 
 to take her hand.} 
 
 CARLOTTA, Stand off! There is defilement in your touch! 
 Where is my father ? Why have I been thus betrayed ? And 
 again I ask of this house. What is its reputation, since one so Tfase 
 as you can be its master ? 
 
 COATES, Since you are so scornful, I leave you to guess its 
 character, 
 
 CARLOTTA. O, heaven ! My conjectures have not been amiss. 
 Help ! Help ! 
 
 COATES. Your appeal will find no friendly answer here. You 
 are caged, my beauty, and mine you shall be, despite the opposition 
 of the Fates ! 
 
 CARLOTTA. (Fleeing.} Help ! Help ! (Exit, pursued by Coates.} 
 
 Enter 
 
 ERRANT. (Looking around.) The region is dank with the taint 
 of proscription, and the items gathered here are polluting to news 
 paper erudition. They disfigure the columns of the morning daily. 
 Notwithstanding, the region is prolific, and the reporter may not 
 always select the field of his explorations, nor hesitate to enter 
 where duty calls. I heard a scream, or my ears deceived me. It 
 came from this quarter ; and yet, the house seems silent and deserted. 
 I shall depart hence. As my entrance was unheralded, so shall my 
 
28 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 exit be, and unobserved. Let me steal away, "like the Arab who 
 folds his tent," etc., etc. The proverb is too musty for repetition. 
 (A sharp scream from within.} Ah; I was not mistaken! Yo r 
 ho ! Away with the note book now ! Courage is the word ; and 
 it may be, muscle for a deadly encounter ! 
 
 CARix)TTA. (Rushing in, pursued by Coates.} Oh, save me, sir; 
 
 save me I 
 
 ERRANT. It is the cry of the kid against the wolf. Hold off ! 
 ( To Coates.) When a woman claims protection, cowards only hesi 
 tate to inquire the cause. 
 
 CARLOTTA. O, do not mistake me, sir. I am no part of this 
 house. Treachery beguiled me hither, and villainy seeks my un 
 doing. 
 
 ERRANT. Begone, sir! The avenging Nemesis confronts you. 
 
 COATES. You are valiant in the presence of an unarmed man. 
 
 I forbear, but do not relinquish . We shall soon meet again . (Exit.} 
 
 ERRANT. For your sate, I hope not, as I do not like to perform 
 professional duty at the foot of the gallows. 
 
 CARLOTTA. O, sir ; how shall I thank you for this timely inter 
 ference ? 
 
 EKRANT. Madame, it needs no thanks. A good action has its 
 own reward. That exclamation "I am no part of this house," was 
 the eloquence of innocence itself. To have deserted you then, would 
 have been a reproach to my manhood. But we must quit this house 
 on the instant. It is no place for you. 
 
 CARLOTTA. This has been a monstrous outrage upon an unpro 
 tected girl. 
 
 ERRANT. I thoroughly comprehend the situation. But we must 
 go. Will you trust yourself to my protection ? 
 
 CARLOTTA. Fearlessly, sir. (I leading her ojf, when} 
 
 Re-enter 
 
 COATES. (Disguised as at first.} One moment, you who act the 
 role of a hero. By what right do you seek to deprive me of my 
 wife? 
 
 CARLOTTA. O, horrible ! Wife of his ! Believe it not ! He is 
 nothing to me a villain that seeks my ruin whom I despise and 
 abhor. Do not forsake me, or I am lost. 
 
 ERRANT. The right that I propose to exercise is founded upon 
 the highest principle of justice to defend an innocent girl against 
 the machinations of a human monster ; and this I will do at the 
 hazard of my life. 
 
 COATES. Then let force decide the victory. (A clinch and strug 
 gle. Errant throws Coates off, who draws a knife. Errant retreats 
 to side of Carlotta, and draws a pistol.} 
 
 ERRANT. Ah, ho ! Come on! Come on ! (Tableau, and fall 
 of curtain.} 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 29 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE FIRST. Outside of Trading Post. A bar with liquors. 
 Jeff* and Maggie discovered. 
 
 JEFF. Maggie, Bill s rested for the murder. That s what 
 comes of hevin a sneakin pettifogger round. There never was no 
 use for a Justice, neither, till that chap made his pearance. I ll 
 wring his neck off one of these days. 
 
 MAGGIE. I wish you would, the old sinner. Just think, Jeff, 
 the dance 11 have to be put off, after the company has all been 
 invited. It s too bad, so it is. 
 
 JEFF. Well, it can t be helped. But the worst of it is, that 
 infernal lawyer has spenied me as a witness agin Bill. Uncle 
 Charley says he shall have a fair show, howsomdever. The trial is 
 to be held here, and some of em are comin now. 
 
 Enter Uncle CharlQy, Trippletopper and miners. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. (Taking his seat.} This ha ar Court are now 
 sembled. Tripplecoffers, are you ready for the case ? 
 
 TEIPPLETOFPER. Trippletopper, if your honor please. The 
 People, or what is the same thing the State, is ready. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. A ar yer witnesses ha ar, and sworn? 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. They are, your honor. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Then bring in the prisoner, and perceed with 
 the trial. (Exit Constable for Bill, and brings him in.) "What do 
 yer propose to prove ? 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPPJR. May it please the Court, and you, gentlemen 
 of the ju beg pardon ; there is no jury in a mere case of exami 
 nation. We expect to show, that on the night of the 17th of June, 
 between the hours of ten and eleven o clock, the prisoner at the bar 
 left the post the very room in which the Court is now assembled 
 in company with Mr. Milton. Between the hours of eleven and 
 twelve or to be more exact about ten minutes before twelve, he 
 overtook a couple of men on the trail leading up to the post, out of 
 breath from running, and had in his hand a buckskin purse, filled 
 with gold dust. The witnesses and the prisoner soon after separ 
 ated at a fork of the trail the prisoner going towards the post 
 Other important testimony will be adduced in corroboration. I 
 will not tire the patience of the Court in referring to it, but proceed 
 at once with the case. Will Mr. Stephen Ripples stand forth ? 
 (Steve takes the stand.) Mr. Hippies, you were at the post to a late 
 hour on the night of the murder, I believe ? 
 
 STEVE. I was. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. And you saw Mr. Milton there ? 
 
 STEVE. I did. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. The prisoner conversed with Mr. Milton, did 
 he not, while you and your friends were engaged in a social game 
 of cards ? 
 
30 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 STEVE. Yes. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. About what hour of the night was that, Mr. 
 Ripples ? 
 
 STEVE. Couldn t say. It might have been earlier, or it might 
 have been later. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPEK. A vague answer. You may stand aside. 
 (Steve retires.} Ah, one other question, Mr. Ripples. That was in 
 the county of Trinity and State of California, was it not? 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Now, looke here, Tripplecoffers ; the witness 
 needn t answer no fool question like that ! 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. But, may it please the Court 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. But it don t please the Court to hear no sich 
 nonsense. Call yer next witness. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Mr. Buckletongue. (Buckletongue takes tJie 
 stand.} Where were you on the night of the 17th of June say at 
 ten minutes to ten o clock ? 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE. On the trail with Fred, going to the cabin. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Were you overtaken by anyone before you 
 reached the forks ? 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE. We were. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Please state to the Court who that person was. 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE. Missouri Bill. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Very well. Was his manner excited ? 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE. He came up on a run, and was breathing close. 
 
 TRTPPLETOPPER. Did he have anything in his hand ? 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE. Yes ; a bag of dust. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. What kind of dust? 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE. Gold dust. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Who told you it was gold dust ? 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE. No one. I know d it. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. And how did you know it ? 
 
 BUCKLETONGUE. Bekase. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. You stand aside. Sich testimony as that 
 won t be allowed. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPEK. Your honor ! A ruling like that is reductio 
 ad absurdum. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Reducter ad humbug em ! I don t want ter 
 hear none of yer Greek. This is a Court of Justice not of law. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Greek, your honor. The authorities 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Hang the authorities. Fetch up yer next 
 witness. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. The boy known as Jeff. (Jeff takes the stand.} 
 Your honor, this is our most important witness, and I would ask 
 the Court to be particularly observant of his answers. (To Jeff.} 
 You are clerk, or business man at the post, are you not ? 
 
 JEFF. Well, I sort o ficiate there. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Where were you on the night of Mr. Milton s 
 murder ? 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 31 
 
 JEFF. I was here. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Where did you sleep ? 
 
 JEFF. On the hay in the corral. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Who slept there with you ? 
 
 JEFF. Missouri Bill. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Anybody else ? 
 
 JEFF. No. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. At what hour did the prisoner retire ? 
 
 JEFF. Well, it was late. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Where had he been ? 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Yer needn t answer that. How on airth 
 wa ar he to know whar Bill had been, when he wa an t thar ? 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Correct, your honor. Did he have anything 
 with him when he retired ? 
 
 JEFF. Yes. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPRR. Well ; tell the Court what it was. 
 
 JEFF. A suckin calf what he had fotched from its mother. (A 
 laugh.} 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. (Confused.} What else? 
 
 JEFF. A rope to tie it with. (A laugli.} 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. I mean, in plain language, did he have a bag 
 in his hand ? 
 
 JEFF. Yes. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. And what did it contain ? 
 
 JEFF. Nothin . (A laugh.} 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Nothing ? 
 
 JEFF. Nothin . 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Now, Jeff, I will ask you what kind of a sack 
 it was ? 
 
 JEFF. An empty flour sack. (A laugh.} 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Did he have anything else ? 
 
 JEFF. Yes. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. What? 
 
 JEFF. A buckskin purse, filled with gold dust. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Ah, the witness is brightening up. We re 
 getting at the facts at last. A bag of gold dust 1 And where did 
 he get it ? Can you answer that ? 
 
 JEFF. Yes. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. But he needn t. How was the boy to know 
 where he got the dust ? 
 
 JEFF. I can answer it. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. If the Court please ? 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Gro on. 
 
 JEFF. He borrowed it from Mr. Milton. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. How do you know he borrowed it? I 
 would nt like to swear to that. 
 
 JEFF. Because Bill told me so, and I d rather believe his word 
 lor your oath, any time. (A laugh.} 
 
32 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. The case is made out. You may stand aside. 
 By permission of your honor 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. I want no argerin ! Yer could nt make me 
 believe Bill guilty ef yer spoke till doomsday. Pearances, I ll 
 admit, are agin him, but the presumption a ar in his favor till he s 
 proved guilty. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Certainly, your honor. But we ask a decision 
 on the question of commitment. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. (Approaching prisoner.} Bill, the Court a ar 
 not convinced yer had any hand in this ar murder ; but the law 
 says yer must be held ; and 
 
 Enter 
 
 ERRANT. Will the honorable Court pardon this intrusion ; for I 
 am informed this is a Court. I imagine I am just in time to enlighten 
 it. An adventure occurred to me only a few minutes ago, that may 
 in some manner relate to the case under examination. This is an 
 arrest for murder, I am told ? 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Yes; but who a ar yer, and whar did yer 
 come from ? 
 
 ERRANT. My personality is blended with my vocation. Both 
 have something to do with current events, which I am here to 
 chronicle in brief and in the abstract. I am a wing d Mercury of 
 the press. In this case, call me the Avenger should my story 
 as I think it will fix the brand of infamy where it properly 
 belongs. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. This a ar gettin interestin . What more 
 hev yer to say ? Go on. 
 
 ERRANT. What is the nature of the proof againsb the prisoner ? 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPEU. Conclusive, sir. Conclusive. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. See here, Tripplecoffers ! That a ar false. 
 The zaminatioii as yet hev bin all on one side. Tother a ar to 
 come yet. 
 
 ERRANT. When was the deed committed ? 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Eour nights ago. And a dastardly affair it 
 was, too. 
 
 ERRANT. That makes the two events sufficiently coincident to 
 warrant a logical deduction. Will a couple of gentlemen step out 
 side and bring in a hang-dog looking villain they will find tied 
 with a lariat to a tree ? \Exeunt Jeff and Steve, who return in a 
 moment with Garcia, his right arm in a sling.} 
 
 JEFF. (Pointing to Garcia.} That s one of the chaps that slept 
 at the post the night of the murder. 
 
 ERRANT. And what was his appearance in the morning ? 
 
 JEFF. Him and his covey dusted before mornin come. 
 
 ERRANT. Ah, ha ! The evidence accumulates against him. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Well, mister ; what next ? 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 33 
 
 ERRANT. Your honor, I am from Shasta. It was my good for 
 tune to ride a horse, and my misfortune to meet this villain on the 
 trail, who was a-foot. He sought to reverse our positions by placing 
 a pistol to my head and ordering me to dismount. Before I could 
 obey, the scoundrel s impatience got the better of him, and he fired. 
 Luckily I leaned over the horse s neck at the instant, and his bullet 
 went wide of its mark. It was then man to man, with the victory 
 in abeyance. Steadiness of nerve gave me the advantage. I drew 
 before the fellow could recover from his surprise, and winged him 
 as you see. His revolver dropped from his powerless hand, and I 
 captured him as an offering to the violated law. It would be well, 
 I think, for the Court to inquire into his antecedent history. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Let the villain be sarched. 
 
 (Jeff and Steve produce from Garcia s person letters addressed to 
 Mr. Milton, and Mr. Milton s gold watch.] 
 
 STEVE. Here are letters to Mr. Milton s address. 
 
 JEFF. And here is Mr. Milton s gold watch. 
 
 MINERS. Hang him! Hang him ! (2 hey seize Garcia and bear 
 him off, led by Steve.) 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY, (Advancing to Bill.} Bill, my old friend, this 
 a ar mighty fortinate. I knowed it d come out all right in the 
 eend. Young man, (To Errant.} I thank yer in the name of Mis- 
 sourer Bill and the Commonwealth. Court a ar journed and the 
 prisoner discharged. Jeff, hand out yer lickers. 
 
 SCENE SECOND Enter 
 
 TIM O DoNNELL. Me bad fortune has brought me to the dig- 
 gins , as they call em. Be me sowl, I expected to pick up the 
 goold in chunks, and instead, there s nothin but tailin s. (Pulling 
 at the skirt of a torn coat.} They spoke of their gravel claims, and 
 bedad the gravel has a claim on me, for the sowls of me boots are in 
 holes. And thin I was advised to go into a dam operation, but I m 
 dommed if I found any comfort in thot. It was a coffer-dam, built 
 in the river I was to work on, and I ve had a cough ever since I 
 undertook it. " Och," said they, " go down to the bed-rock," and 
 it s a rock that s been me bed for a two-week. I was to follow the 
 flume down to the flats, and hev been goin up a flume since I 
 started on the journey. " Ye ll get plenty of dust," they said, 
 and me brogans show that I ve got it. Now, I know what I ll do 
 in my extremity. Bedad, Hillo ! Here comes a feller runnin like 
 a scar t hare. What the divil s the matter wid ye? 
 
 Enter 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. The mob is out in its wild fury. It surge* 
 this way. I am a sworn counsellor of the law, and must resist it at 
 
34 EARLST CALIFORNIA. 
 
 all hazards. Can I rely upon you ? Tell me, sir, are you a law 
 and order man ? 
 
 TIM. No ; I am an Irishman. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Are you a defender of mobocracy ? 
 
 TIM. I go in for the Democracy. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Do you hear the human fiends who are thirst 
 ing for blood ? 
 
 TIM. He would be dafe who could say to the contrary. What 
 is it now, that alarms ye ? 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. They have seized a man and will hang him. 
 But I will oppose them. The rabble have no judgment, and are 
 always wrong. To me, alone, and with undaunted resolution, 
 shall belong the task of dispersing them before they have glutted 
 their vengeance. 
 
 TIM. Go aisy, now, or yer own neck will be in danger. What 
 can ye do agin them chaps, who are judge, jury, witnesses, and 
 coroner, wid their verdict made up ! Out wid ye, and avoid thim. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Never ! I stand as the representative of jus 
 tice, and defender of the law. I will speak to them. There is a 
 terror in the countenance of legal majesty that must awe them into 
 obedience and respect. Leave me if your courage be not of the 
 Spartan order. I am Leonidas, against the Greeks. This trail is 
 my Thermopylae this tree my rock. Here I place myself and ex 
 claim, 
 
 The frenzy of the mob shall meet a stopper 
 In the unaided arm of Trippletopper. 
 
 TIM. Ye will do well to take my advice, Mr. Lawyer, and go 
 home to yer bed. A little slape will add a great deal to yer dis 
 cretion. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Stand back ! They approach ! Give me room 
 to beard them ! 
 
 TIM. Jest as ye plase ; but I m afeard the dirils will lather ye, 
 before they submit to the operation. 
 
 (Enter Mob with Garcia, Steve having him in his grip.} 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Hold ! ye violators of the law ! What would 
 ye do ? Disperse, I command you ! The heavens cry out against 
 this proceeding, and morality forbids it ! What ! Would ye take 
 a fellow-being s life without trial ? Monstrous ! Be gone, or the 
 statutes shall be invoked against you ! I command the public 
 peace ! 
 
 STEVE. And I command you to hold your tongue, if you don t 
 want to swing with him. (Trippletopper takes refuge behind Tim.} 
 
 TIM. I tould ye to be sparin of yer gab, and ye d better be 
 afther lookin out for yer own safety. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Gentlemen, this must not go on. I am a 
 sworn officer of the law, and I forbid it. 
 
 STEVE. Seize him, men, and we ll dispose of the pair of em. 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 35 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. But, my worthy friends, I beseech you. It 
 was only my duty. I pray you, mercy. (Trfppletopper is seized.} 
 
 STEVE. Bring him along, boys. A ducking in the creek will 
 cool his ardor. 
 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. But gentlemen ! gentlemen ! 
 
 STEVE. A few more steps will bring iis in sight of Mr. Milton s 
 cabin. On one of the pines near its door this wretch shall expiate 
 his crime. (Exeunt mob, bearing along Garcia and Trippletopper .} 
 
 TIM. Howly mercy ! It s a poor chance a mon has for his life 
 wid the loikes of them. I m satisfied with the moines intirely. 
 It may be my turn nixt. The thought of it produces a strange 
 sensation. Ill pay me bill and be off. And, be jabers, that can 
 be soon settled ; for, as no one would trust me, and I ve had little 
 to ate, the score will be aisly reckoned. But I ll comfort meself 
 wid a song before I lave. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Bedad, I m in trouble ; there isn t a doubt of it ; 
 
 Here s robbiii and hangin men all in a joke. 
 The counthry is wild, and I m bound to get out of it, 
 
 Along wid them chaps that they call the "dead broke." 
 
 My stomach is empty, and divil a cent have I ; 
 
 No credit, nor froiends that will give me a lift. 
 Not even a rasher, or fish, or a steak to fry ; 
 
 And that s what a man may call being adrift. 
 
 Goold-saMng is all very well, if yer struck wid it ; 
 
 Saking but finding none, go where ye will ; 
 I m fra to confiss, since I ve had little luck wid it, 
 
 Of prospecting for diggings I ve had quite a fill. 
 
 (Exit Tim.} 
 
 SCENE THREE. Outside the Post, in mew of mining scene, 
 with falling water. Automatic figures of ox-wagon and mule-train 
 descending mountain, attended by Spanish drivers on foot. Miners 
 at work with picks, shovels, torn and rocker. Indians and China 
 men in camp. 
 
 Enter 
 
 MISSOURI BILL. (Calling.} Old woman. (Enter Mrs. Qrubbs.} Is 
 the rangements all made Y Things a ar lookin a-splendid ha ar ; 
 and the young uns 11 have a merry time of it. 
 
 MRS. GrRUBBS. All the merrier after what has happened. It 
 was a blessed circumstance that brought the young man along, 
 
 BILL. Git things in order, and send Jeff a-ha ar. (Exit Mrs. 
 Gr-ubbs.} He s an honest lad, and must know it. The secret s too 
 wal able for one man to keep ; ticklarly when that man s bin 
 spected of Mr. Milton s murder. (Enter Jeff.} Jeff, I see that 
 ye r takin a hankerin arter the gal. Wa al that s partickler pro- 
 
36 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 per. Ef old Bill had married thar might now be some one to take 
 ca ar o him. But he s a-like that Ingin that I ve hearn tell on, 
 who was the last of his tribe. Jeff, things hev gone smoothe and 
 prosperous with the old man lately, and that s an idee that fetches 
 danger. When one s doin well, thar s inemies to watch and rob 
 him. See how it wa ar with Mr. Milton. Ef Bill s wind should 
 be shet suddently off, Jeff, thar s somethin consarns his honor ye r 
 should remember and act out. Thar s a bottle in the corner of the 
 topmost shelf of the cupboard in the post, and it s got papers in it 
 that a ar wal able. Thar s a memorandy that consarns Mr. Mil 
 ton s affairs, and one coucarnin mine, and maybe your n also, ef 
 ye r do the squa ar thing in takin a-charge of it. Ef Bill should 
 pipe out, the bottle s to be carried to a Mr. Quod, at Frisco. 
 You ll fiijd him by a-askin of that young man who captured the 
 Spanish robber. Mind, Jeff, thar s to be no examinin of the bottle s 
 contents >no breakin of the cork to find out what s in it. Take 
 it straight wha ar it belongs, and old Bill s speret will bless ye er. 
 Ef ye er fail, it 11 hant ye er, Jeff, it 11 hant ye er. Thar I know it 
 11 be all right. Go into the post and receive the gals that a ar 
 a-arrivin to tend the party. (Exit Jeff.} Tw ar a hard thing to 
 trust that a ar secret out o my keepin . But it hed to be done. And 
 the boy s honest, He ll do right. I b lieve it. I b lieve it. (Enter 
 Uncle Charley, Errant, miners, women, etc.] Boys and gals, I m 
 ra al slap up glad to see ye r. (Shakes hands all round.} 
 
 STEVE. Three cheers for Bill. (Cheers given.) 
 
 BILL. Thank ye er friends. Thank ye er all kindly. Now to en 
 joy yerselves. That s what I invited ye er a-he ar for. 
 
 ALL. A song ! A soag 1 
 
 STEVE. Yes, a song from Mr. Errant. 
 
 ALL. A song from Mr. Errant ! A song ! 
 
 EHRANT. Well, though not much of a singer, I ll try and en 
 tertain you with something appropriate. (Sings.) 
 
 Miners Chorus. 
 
 Gold, gold, in the days of old, 
 
 When mankind lived for glory, 
 It shaped the dream, and formed the theme 
 
 Of many a knightly story; 
 But they who hoarded never felt 
 The voiceless thrill of pleasure 
 That glows within the miner s heart 
 As he unearths the treasure. 
 (Repeat two last lines.) 
 
 Gold, gold, in the gravel bed, 
 
 The river bank and mountain 
 That shows its gleam in the running stream 
 
 Of the canyon s deepest fountain. 
 We seek it where the tunnel s drift 
 
 Has pierced the hardest granite, 
 And from the sands, with hardened hands, 
 
 It is our joy to pan it. (Repeat, etc.) 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 37 
 
 Gold, gold, to the banker s vault, 
 
 And miser s clutch we send it; 
 If they re content with their per cent. 
 
 We re satisfied to spend it. 
 Then let us live a jolly life, 
 
 With fondness for each other, 
 And offer prayers for him who shares 
 
 His earnings with a brother. (Repeat, etc.) 
 
 A Dance. Automatic pony descends mountain on a gallop. 
 Enter natural horse and rider with letter mail. Rider distributes 
 letters, and exit horse mid rider. 
 
 PRESTON. (Slightly intoxicated.} Boys, after the ball s over, 
 there ll be a game in the post. 
 
 BILL. No thar won t. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. That a ar right, Bill. No gamin to- 
 mght. 
 
 PRESTON. (Approacfiing Uncle Charley.} What have you got 
 to say about it? 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Perpriety s agin it, and law s with per- 
 priety. 
 
 PRESTON. I came here for sport, and I m bound to have it. 
 Here s one will go with me. (Taking hold of Maggie.} 
 
 MAGGIE. Not much. 
 
 PRESTON. But you will, though. 
 
 BILL. Let go the gal, or I D. brain you. (Seizes and throws 
 Preston aside.} 
 
 PRESTON. Now, look here, Bill ; you know me, and when I 
 start in I m going to have my fun or a muss. 
 
 BILL. Ya as ; I know ye er to be a quarrelsome ruffin. But 
 I ll have none of yer capers a-ha er. 
 
 ALL. Put him out ! Put him out ! 
 
 PRESTON. I d like to know who ll attempt to put me out ? 
 
 JEFF. (Advancing.} I will ! 
 
 PRESTON. Ah ! You will, will you? (A scuffle between Pres 
 ton and Jeff . Bill seizes Preston, and a struggle. Preston draws 
 and stabs BiU who falls.) 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. I command the peace. God a-mercy, Bill ! 
 A ar you hurt ? 
 
 BILL. Finished, I m afeard. (A rush, and cry of "hang him ! 
 Hang him!" Preston is borne off by miners.} But the boy s safe. 
 I ve got it a-ha er. (Putting his hand to his breast.} It a ar all 
 up with me. Whar a ar the boy.) (Jeff kneels over Bill.} Jeff, a 
 word the bottle persarve it cling to it. Remember the name 
 Quod. Mr. Milton ye er know -the rest. (Dies.} 
 
 MRS. GRUBBS. O, goody, goody I 
 
38 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ACT Y. 
 
 SCENE ONE. Parlor in Oriental Hotel. Carlotta discovered. 
 Knttr Errant. 
 
 CARLOTTA. I have heard all, sir, and am resigned to my con 
 dition. The murder of my dear father makes me indeed an orphan, 
 in a strange land withoiit means friendless and forsaken. 
 
 ERRANT. Not so bad as that, Miss Milton. 
 
 CARLOTTA. Pardon me, sir ; I had overlooked your kindness. I 
 will not say friendless, with you to protect, and your good counsel 
 to direct me. I may still rely upon you ; may I not ? 
 
 ERRANT. When the heart is stricken it is natural that it should 
 misdoubt. There is no sorrow you feel I cannot appreciate and 
 share. Let your emotions find vent in tears ; and when the de 
 mands of filial affection have been fully met, arouse to a calm con 
 sideration of circumstances as you find them. You are bereaved 
 doubly so in the loss of those who were so near to you within so 
 brief a period of time. But your parents were both aged, and in 
 their departure merely anticipated by a few years the fate of our 
 common mortality. With you it is far otherwise. Your youth is 
 in its most favorable bloom. Look around you. The earth is 
 bright and beautiful its enjoyments all inviting. Be cheered. 
 The past can never be recalled, and time will compensate for pres 
 ent grief. It is to the future you must look not depending 
 upon chance alone to direct your movements, but molding every 
 favorable event to your advantage. 
 
 CARLOTTA. O, sir, these are exalted sentiments from a generous 
 mind. They inspire me with a courage which I am eager to put 
 to the test. My father could not have been without means. His 
 letters were all encouraging. He had no enemies. His nature was 
 too gentle for that. Murdered ! That fearful word reveals the 
 whole story. Bobbery must have been the motive of the crime. 
 His slayers, no doubt, despoiled him, and I am left a bankrupt in 
 everything but reputation and my strong resolution. 
 
 ERRANT. California contains a big-hearted people. You shall 
 be their ward, in a position becoming your dignity and their 
 generosity. But, Miss Milton, there is a secret in my heart if I 
 dared give utterance to it. And why not ? No time so appropriate 
 as the present. To retain it longer would be to do injustice to my 
 own feelings and your condition. I love you. Say that I have 
 offended, and my lips are sealed on this subject forever. (Carlotta 
 falls upon Ms breast. ) An inward monitor whispered I was right. 
 The title of wife to an honorable man is at once a woman s glory 
 and a shield to her reputation. Come dearest, my only exchequer 
 is my honest industry. In that shall lie the assurance of our future 
 happiness and fortune. We will encounter the great world to- 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 39 
 
 get her, and together conquer its vicissitudes, or failing, fall to 
 gether. (Exit, leading Carlotta.} 
 
 SCENE TWO. A Street Enter 
 
 TIM O DoNNELL. Twas a narry escape that I had in the Page 
 and Bacon affair. But good was in it. The Chafe of Polace took 
 howld of me as I come out av the doore. "What are ye doin wid 
 thotax?" sez he. "Sez I, it s the one I took from the spalpeen 
 that was goin to break in the door." "Was it thotway?" sez he. 
 "Bedad and it was," sez I. "Then yer in a fairway for promotion 
 on the polace," sez he. And when I come down from the mines 
 I went to the headquarters of the poiiticianers and got a recommin- 
 dation from Mike, and that was the way of it. I was enrouled, as 
 they call it, and now I m one of tham reglars, supportin the mace 
 of office. 
 
 Enter 
 
 COATES. (Aside.} She shall not escape me thus ! Once in pos 
 session of the papers, and she is at my mercy. It will be easy to 
 blacken her name and discredit her testimony, should she discover 
 their existence and make an attempt to reclaim them. But that is 
 impossible. The deeds are all regular, and a sale of the property 
 can readily be effected. With the proceeds I will at once get out of 
 the country , and then, let the hounds bay as they will upon my 
 track. 
 
 TIM. (Aside.} This looks loike a case that demands the inter- 
 farence of the polace. (Aloud.} What are ye muttering about 
 there ? The circumstance looks suspicious, and yer face affords no 
 great security for yer honesty. Ye d better move on. 
 
 COATES. My good man, are you acquainted with a gentleman 
 named Quod ? 
 
 TIM. Do I know him ! And is there a politician an officer on 
 the polace, I mane that don t know him ? 
 
 COATES. Then you can direct me to his office ? 
 
 TIM. I can do thot, but ye won t find him th^ere. 
 
 COATES. Will you be good enough, my respected friend, to tell 
 me where he can be found ? 
 
 TIM. (Aside.} Respected friend ! That conies of bein in au 
 thority. (Aloud.} Be jabers, it would be hard to do thot, for he s 
 been gone from the city this two weeks. 
 
 COATES. (Aside.} Nothing could have fallen out better. The 
 victory seems already within my grasp. (Aloud.} And the di 
 rection, my good sir. 
 
 TIM. Follow down the street. I ll be wid ye in a minute. 
 
 COATES. Thanks, my worthy city guardian. A trifle for your 
 information. (Slips money in Tim s hand, and exit.) 
 
 TIM. Och, murther ! What s this ! Is it a bribe he would be 
 afther givin me ! Here (making a feint to call.) But it s not 
 
40 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 for me he intended it. It belongs to the city Treasury, and I ll 
 just drop it into me pocket until there s a demand for it. (Exit.) 
 
 Enter Jeff, Uncle Charley and Maggie. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Them hashes at the What Cheer swells a 
 man perdigiously. By the Lord, Jeff, I m ten pound heavier than 
 I wa ar this mo rain . 
 
 JEFF. It were the dried apples and the barley in the coffee. 
 
 MAGGIE. Have you got the picture safe, Jeff r* 
 
 JEFF. Yes; all right, Maggie. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. The tectives can make good use of that. 
 
 JEFF. But there s somethin here (holding up bottle] of more im 
 portance. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. A ar ye sure we re on the right street ? 
 
 JEFF. Yes ; I know it. Come along. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. I m stiff in the knee-pans, and ev ry jint has 
 an ache. If this had bin consarnin the affairs of any one but Mr. 
 Milton, I d a-seen him to the devil afore I d a-rode a mule eighty 
 mile across the mountains to attend to em. The innards of a cor 
 pus of two hundred and forty pounds is a little too much to be 
 shuck up in that kind er style without a recompense. 
 
 SCENE THREE. The Editorial officeEnter 
 
 ERRANT. Fortes fortuna jitvatf (with spirit and good accent.} 
 I have found an angel for my house ; now to procure a house fof 
 my angel. (A rap.) Enter. 
 
 Enter TIM. Sure, Mr. Arrant, and I m glad to see ye. 
 
 ERRANT. You are welcome, Tim. 
 
 TIM. A gintleman at the door has business wid ye. For the 
 matter o that, I ve somethin 1 to say to ye myself; but I m in no 
 hurry, and can wait. 
 
 ERRANT. Ah, very well. Step into the next room, Mr. 
 Q Donnell. I ll attend to you presently. (Exit lim.} 
 
 Enter 
 
 COATES. Have I the pleasure of addressing the editor? 
 
 ERRANT. Only a lieutenant, sir. The editor-in-chief is absent. 
 Can I serve yoti ? 
 
 COATES. A few weeks ago my father left a box in the care of 
 Mr. Quod. He also is absent. I have directions from him to obtain 
 it, and transmit to him certain papers which it contains. 
 
 ERRANT. (Aside.) There i something about this man s voice 
 and manner that seem familiar. (Aloud,) It was I who became 
 the custodian of the box. (Writing.) Here, Bob! (Enter boy.) 
 Take this note (folding paper) to the publication office, and get what 
 it calls for. 
 
 COATES. Don t go to any trouble, sir. Give me the order, 
 (reaching for it, hastily) and I will attend to the affair myself. 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA. 41 
 
 ERRANT. (Tearing the note.) On second thought, I will go my 
 self. (Exeunt Errant and boy.) 
 
 COATES, Unfortunate conclusion ! My eager hand would have 
 clutched the paper. Can he suspect ? Impossible ! The disguise 
 was too perfect. Coolness and audacity are now my only depen 
 dence. (Takes up a newspaper.) Here it is again. "Horrible 
 Murder in the Mines ! "Will these and similar startling capitals 
 forever confront me? Take up a paper when or where I will, it is 
 always the same. A curse on all newspapers and those who conduct 
 them 1 Would that the torch of the incendiary were applied to 
 every printing office in the land. A fatality seems to attend this 
 visit. Why, otherwise, should a policeman thrust himself into my 
 company, and have business at the same office ? The enterprise de 
 pends Upon a favorable conclusion only from the Fates. 
 
 (Re -enter Errant, Codies reaches eagerly for the box.} 
 
 ERRANT. (Drawing it back.) Not so. (Calls.) Mr. O Donnell I 
 (Enter Tim.) You may be needed as a witness here. Sir, (turning 
 to Coates) as I am assuming the responsibility to act for another, it 
 is proper an officer of the law should be present. We will open the 
 box and examine its contents. 
 
 COATES. It is useless to occupy your time by an inspection. They 
 are deeds to real estate in the city. Doubtless your information is 
 to the same effect. 
 
 ERRANT. But there will be some letter of explanation. (A rap.) 
 Come in. (Enter Jeff, Uncle Charley and Maggie. Errant shakes 
 hand# all round.) Ah, my mountain friends ; delighted to see you. 
 Be seated. (Offering chairs.) And now, (turning to Coates) we will 
 explore the mysteries of the box. 
 
 COATES. Well, sir ; proceed, if you will have it so. 
 
 ERRANT. (Opening box.) Here are valuable deeds, as you have 
 stated, sir. 
 
 JEFF. (Who has been eyeing Coates closely, to Uncle Charley,} 
 Why, that s the other covey who slept in the post the night of the 
 murder, 
 
 ERRANT. (Continuing his examination.} And here is a note of 
 instructions, with a postscript that reads : " Deliver the papers to 
 my wife, or, in her absence, to Carlotta^ my only child." And it 
 is signed great Heavens I " ROBERT MILTON 1 " 
 
 JEFF. (Handing Errant a picture.) And that s one of the chaps 
 that killed him 1 
 
 ERRANT. Robert Milton, Carlotta s father! And this villain, 
 (Coates makes a movement towards Errant, but is seized by Tim,} 
 whose hands are imbrued in his blood, would also ruin and rob his 
 daughter. Was ever infamy so profound ! 
 
 COATES. The accusation of that base hound is false I I know- 
 nothing of the killing he speaks of. I demand the deeds I They 
 are mine by right of justice and law 
 
42 EARLY CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ERRANT. Law you shall have to your heart s content. This pic 
 ture corroborates the accusation. I am acquainted with the boy, and 
 the circumstances under which he obtained it. The resemblance is 
 exact. 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. This orter have curred in my jurisdiction. 
 Them legs would er dangled beautifully among the pine shadders. 
 
 COATES. Again I say, deliver me the deeds. This is a trick to 
 deprive me of my rights. There is no woman in the case. (Enter 
 Dr. Amherst, leading Carlotta.) The Carlotta mentioned is a myth . 
 and if any woman passes herself off by that name, she is an imposter; 
 
 ERRANT. Behold the woman, and ask her to deny her identity ! 
 
 COATES. Foiled ! and the game is up ! But your jails shall 
 never hold me, nor your courts try me ! My life has been desper 
 ate, and so shall be my end ! (Stabs himself, is cauqlit and borne o$ 
 by Tim.} 
 
 JEFF. May it please you, sir, there s somethin to come yet. Mis 
 souri Bill left this bottle, which I were to deliver into the hands of 
 the edditer hisself ; but as you are actin for him, I s pose it s all the 
 same. 
 
 ERRANT. (Uncorking the bottle, and emptying out papers.} This 
 paper describes where thirty thousand dollars in gold dust, that be 
 longed to Mr. Milton, lie buried. And what is this ? ( Unfolding 
 a scrap of soiled paper.} " Jeff air my a ar." Signed, " MISSOURER 
 BILL." 
 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. It means that the boy s to inherit the post. 
 
 JEFF. There s another thing I were to tell you. Missouri Bill 
 owed Mr. Milton six thousand dollars, and its to be charged agin 
 his estate. 
 
 DR. AMHERST. This seems day of discovery as well as of retri 
 bution. Let me also add a chapter to Miss Carlotta a good fortune. 
 Her father, when last in the city, entrusted me with a commission, 
 which I have discharged. A furnished mansion awaits her, when 
 she chooses to occupy it, with the title of ownership secured, and a 
 balance standing to her credit in the bank. 
 
 CARLOTTA. O, if this news brings joy to my soul, it is because 
 there is now one to share my good fortune, more dear to me than the 
 fortune itself. 
 
 ERRANT. (laking Carlotta by hand, and all to front.} A sky 
 that is overcast may still have golden gleamings. In thy case, Car 
 lotta, the storm is past, and the day breaks with transcendant 
 glory. 
 
 THE END. 
 
COSTUMES. 
 
 ERRANT. Black coat, silk hat and white vest, in office and par 
 lor scenes. Cap, boots outside of pants, and sack coat in mines. 
 
 MISSOURI BILL. Slouch hat, soiled red flannel shirt, buckskin coat 
 and pants. 
 
 COATES. "With cloak, well dressed otherwise, and when disguised, 
 
 with mustache and black whiskers. 
 MANUEL GARCIA. Broad-brimmed hat with wide band ; short blue 
 
 jacket with brass buttons ; red sash as girdle ; blue cloth pants 
 
 fringed down legs ; with large Mexican spurs ; handle of knife 
 
 visible on left hip or in right boot-leg. 
 UNCLE CHARLEY. Large as Ealstaff, with ordinary dress. 
 MR. MILTON. A venerable man ; long gray beard ; well dressed 
 
 in black. 
 JEFF. Check shirt, with narrow ribbon for cravat ; pants, but no 
 
 vest ; bare-headed, except in moonlight scene with Maggie. 
 TRIPPLETOPPER. Black coat with long skirts ; red nose ; specta 
 cles ; white hat. 
 DR. AMHERST. A dignified gentleman, respectably dressed in 
 
 black. 
 TIM O DONNELL. Seedy until promoted on police ; then cap with 
 
 suit of gray. 
 MIKE. A short sack coat with side pockets ; hat, broad-brimmed ; 
 
 carries whip. 
 
 MR. JONES. A suit of black. 
 STEVE RIPPLES. A buckskin shirt without collar or cravat ; also 
 
 buckskin pants ; bare-headed. 
 
 MINERS. In dingy cher^ ova- J 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS 
 
 WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN 
 THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY 
 WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH 
 DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY 
 OVERDUE. 
 
 LD 21-100m-8, 34