his excitement drank his own health with the others. Yet he was
disappointed that there was not more joviality; he wondered if men
always drank together so stiffly. And it occurred to him that it would
be expensive. Nevertheless, he had his purse all ready ostentatiously
in his hand; in fact, the paying for it out of his own money was not
the least manly and independent pleasure he had promised himself. "How
much?" he asked, with an affectation of carelessness.

The barkeeper cast his eye professionally over the barroom. "I think you
said treats for the crowd; call it twenty dollars to make even change."

Clarence's heart sank. He had heard already of the exaggeration
of California prices. Twenty dollars! It was half his fortune.
Nevertheless, with an heroic effort, he controlled himself, and with
slightly nervous fingers counted out the money. It struck him, however,
as curious, not to say ungentlemanly, that the bystanders craned their
necks over his shoulder to look at the contents of his purse, although
some slight explanation was offered by the tall man.

"The Commodore's purse, gentlemen, is really a singular one. Permit me,"
he said, taking it from Clarence's hand with great politeness. "It is
one of the new pattern, you observe, quite worthy of inspection." He
handed it to a man behind him, who in turn handed it to another, while
a chorus of "suthin quite new," "the latest style," followed it in its
passage round the room, and indicated to Clarence its whereabouts.
It was presently handed back to the barkeeper, who had begged also to
inspect it, and who, with an air of scrupulous ceremony insisted upon
placing it himself in Clarence's side pocket, as if it were an
important part of his function. The driver here called "all aboard."
The passengers hurriedly reseated themselves, and the episode abruptly
ended. For, to Clarence's surprise, these attentive friends of a moment
ago at once became interested in the views of a new passenger concerning
the local politics of San Francisco, and he found himself utterly
forgotten. The bonnetless woman had changed her position, and her head
was no longer visible. The disillusion and depression that overcame him
suddenly were as complete as his previous expectations and hopefulness
had been extravagant. For the first time his utter unimportance in
the world and his inadequacy to this new life around him came upon him
crushingly.

The heat and jolting of the stage caused hi