ward. Two or three months had elapsed since
his departure, and that was more time than so many years in any other
country, and all excitement about it had subsided, and I think it was
called a breach of trust, and I have no recollection that he was
punished in any other way.

MY BLANKET MAN.

When he wrote me that he had traded the blankets for flour, and had gone
to the Yuba river with the flour, I knew that it was a lie, and that he
was a rascal, and I found that blankets had been in great demand, at a
high price, and likewise learned that he had been connected with a
forgery in New York city, but that his brother was a respectable
merchant there, so for the time I gave up my $800 as lost. What was my
surprise after six weeks at my hotel (which was an expensive one), to
see my man at the tea table. I greeted him most cordially and asked no
questions about the blankets, but talked to him about the brig I owned
and had running to Stockton; that I had been looking for him to come
back; there was such a splendid chance for us to make purchases in San
Francisco, and for him to take them up on my vessel and sell them out in
the Southern gold mines, near that place; that what we had lost on the
blankets we could more than make up on the first venture, and that there
would be big money in that kind of a speculation. We spent the evening
together most cordially. The next morning I detained him in conversation
until about the time for the Miners' Bank to open, then we went out
together. When we got opposite the bank I took out my watch and said to
him, that I did not think it was so late. I said I had a note of $800
due there that morning; I asked him if he had the gold dust about him to
that amount. He said yes. I said let me have it and I will take up my
note. He said there was no place to weigh it. I said yes, here there was
a place where I was acquainted. It was weighed and handed to me. I told
him I would see him at dinner, which I did. I then opened on him, and
told him how despicably he had acted when I so generously trusted to his
honor. He made no reply; he virtually admitted the truth of my
statement. I never saw him afterward. That was the only time I ever
played the confidence game in my life, and my conscience has approved of
it ever since.

My friend, Mr. R., had got his brewery well under way in Happy Valley,
as they called that part of the city, had used up his $8,000 and
commenced borrowing money on my ind