the only coin in
California--indeed, the only circulating medium, since notes were not to
be had.

"Suppose it to be gold," he answers guardedly, "how much then?"

The _ex-ganadero_ is by no means a niggardly man; still, he would like
to have his treasure transported at a rate not exorbitant. And yet he
is anxious about its safety; and for this reason has resolved to ship it
with secrecy in a private trading-vessel, instead of by one of the
regular liners, that have already commenced plying between San Francisco
and Panama. He has heard that these are crowded with miners returning
home; rough fellows, many of them queer characters--some little better
than bandits. He dislikes the idea of trusting his gold among them, and
equally his girls, since no other ladies are likely to be going that
way. He has full faith in the integrity of Captain Lantanas; knows the
Chilian to be a man of gentle heart--in fact, a gentleman. Don Tomas
has told him all this.

Under the circumstances, and with such a man, it will not do to drive
too hard a bargain; and Don Gregorio, thus reflecting, at length
confesses his freight to be gold bullion, and asks the skipper to name
his terms.

Lantanas, after a moment spent in mental calculation, says:

"One thousand dollars for the freight, and a hundred each for the three
passages. Will that satisfy you, senor?"

"It seems a large sum," rejoins Don Gregorio. "But I am aware prices
are high just now; so I agree to it. When will you be ready to sail?"

"I am ready now, senor--that is, if--"

"If what?"

Lantanas, remembering his crewless ship, does not make immediate answer.

"If," says the Spaniard, noticing his hesitation, and mistaking the
reason--"if you're calculating on any delay from me, you needn't. I can
have everything on board in three or four days--a week at the utmost."

The skipper is still silent, thinking of excuses. He dislikes losing
the chance of such a profitable cargo, and yet knows he cannot name any
certain time of sailing, for the want of hands to work his vessel.

There seems no help for it but to confess his shortcomings. Perhaps Don
Gregorio will wait till the _Condor_ can get a crew. The more likely,
since every other vessel in port is in a similar predicament.

"Senor," he says at length, "my ship is at your service; and I should be
pleased and proud to have you and your ladies as my passengers. But
there's a little difficulty to be got over b