d city, shall be disposed of and conveyed by
said city to parties in the bona fide actual possession thereof, by
themselves or tenants, on the passage of this act, in such quantities
and upon such terms and conditions as the legislature of the State
of California may prescribe, except such parcels thereof as may be
reserved and set apart by ordinance of said city for public uses:
_Provided, however_, That the relinquishment and grant by this act
shall not interfere with or prejudice any valid adverse right or
claim, if such exist, to said land or any part thereof, whether
derived from Spain, Mexico, or the United States, or preclude a
judicial examination and adjustment thereof.--[14 Stat. at Large, p.
4.]

* * * * *

EXHIBIT K.

_Letter of Judge Lake giving an account of the torpedo._

SAN FRANCISCO, _April 29, '80_.

Honorable STEPHEN J. FIELD.

MY DEAR SIR: In the winter of 1866 I was in Washington attending the
United States Supreme Court, and was frequently a visitor at your
room.

One morning in January of that year I accompanied you to your room,
expecting to find letters from San Francisco, as I had directed that
my letters should be forwarded to your care. I found your mail lying
on the table. Among other matter addressed to you was a small package,
about four inches square, wrapped in white paper, and bearing the
stamp of the Pioneer Photographic Gallery of San Francisco. Two
printed slips were pasted upon the face of the package and formed
the address: Your name, evidently cut from the title-page of the
"California Law Reports;" and "Washington, D.C.," taken from a
newspaper. You supposed it to be a photograph, and said as much to me,
though from the first you professed surprise at the receipt of it.

You were standing at the window, when you began to open it, and had
some difficulty in making the cover yield. When you had removed the
cover you raised the lid slightly, but in a moment said to me, "What
is this, Lake? It can hardly be a photograph." A sudden suspicion
flashed upon me, and stepping to your side, I exclaimed, "Don't open
it; it means mischief!"

When I had looked at it more nearly, I said, "It's an infernal
machine" or "a torpedo." I carried it over to the Capitol, opposite to
your rooms, where Mr. Broom, one of the clerks of the Supreme Court,
joined me in the examination of your mysterious looking present. It
was put in water, and afterwards we