e everybody else. The tailor, familiar with Mr. Oakhurst's
fastidiousness, did not know what he meant. "I mean," said Mr. Oakhurst
savagely, "something RESPECTABLE,--something that doesn't exactly fit
me, you know." But, however Mr. Oakhurst might hide his shapely limbs
in homespun and homemade garments, there was something in his carriage,
something in the pose of his beautiful head, something in the strong
and fine manliness of his presence, something in the perfect and utter
discipline and control of his muscles, something in the high repose of
his nature,--a repose not so much a matter of intellectual ruling as of
his very nature,--that, go where he would, and with whom, he was
always a notable man in ten thousand. Perhaps this was never so clearly
intimated to Mr. Oakhurst, as when, emboldened by Mr. Hamilton's advice
and assistance, and his own predilections, he became a San Francisco
broker. Even before objection was made to his presence in the
Board,--the objection, I remember, was urged very eloquently by Watt
Sanders, who was supposed to be the inventor of the "freezing-out"
system of disposing of poor stockholders, and who also enjoyed the
reputation of having been the impelling cause of Briggs of Tuolumne's
ruin and suicide,--even before this formal protest of respectability
against lawlessness, the aquiline suggestions of Mr. Oakhurst's mien and
countenance, not only prematurely fluttered the pigeons, but absolutely
occasioned much uneasiness among the fish-hawks who circled below
him with their booty. "Dash me! but he's as likely to go after us as
anybody," said Joe Fielding.

It wanted but a few days before the close of the brief summer season at
San Isabel Warm Springs. Already there had been some migration of the
more fashionable; and there was an uncomfortable suggestion of dregs and
lees in the social life that remained. Mr. Oakhurst was moody. It was
hinted that even the secure reputation of Mrs. Decker could no longer
protect her from the gossip which his presence excited. It is but fair
to her to say, that, during the last few weeks of this trying ordeal,
she looked like a sweet, pale martyr, and conducted herself toward her
traducers with the gentle, forgiving manner of one who relied not upon
the idle homage of the crowd, but upon the security of a principle that
was dearer than popular favor. "They talk about myself and Mr. Oakhurst,
my dear," she said to a friend; "but heaven and my husband ca