This very morning, Charley Chu, who had thrown up his job as mender of
ditches, was making a dash for San Francisco, with five hundred dollars
in dust and a pistol at his belt. The other passengers were Dr. John
Mason and Mamie Slocum, teacher. Mamie, rosy-cheeked, dark-eyed, and
pretty, was only seventeen, and ought to have been at home with her
mother. She was a romantic girl, however, with several beaux in Eureka
Township; and now that the summer session of school was over, she was
going home to Nevada City, where there were other conquests to be made.
Dr. Mason, a tall, lean Scotchman, lived at North Bloomfield, only nine
miles distant, whence he had been summoned to attend a case of _delirium
tremens_. The sparkling water of the Sierras is pure and cold, but the
gold of the Sierras buys stronger drink. With a fee of two double eagles
in his pocket, the doctor could look with charity upon the foibles of
human nature. He thoroughly enjoyed the early morning ride among the
giant pines. In the open places manzanita ran riot, its waxy green
leaves contrasting with the dust-laden asters and coarse grasses by the
roadside.
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