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Updated: May 14, 2025
We haven't tasted any since we left 'Frisco." "I can give you coffee," answered the woman. "My husband likes it, and we always keep it on hand." "Good!" said Bradley, his face lighting up with satisfaction. "We've rid far to-day, and a cup of coffee will go to the right spot." Bradley and Ben threw themselves on the ground near-by, and awaited with complacence the call to supper.
And Mr. Bronson listened and, in turn, understood. "But what of 'Frisco Kid, father?" Joe asked when he had finished. "Hum! there seems to be a great deal of promise in the boy, from what you say of him." Mr. Bronson hid the twinkle in his eye this time. "And, I must confess, he seems perfectly capable of shifting for himself." "Sir?" Joe could not believe his ears. "Let us see, then.
HE don't keep it for himself; he ain't got fine houses in Frisco; he don't keep fast horses for show. Like ez not the critter he did that job with ef it was him none of you boys would have rid! And he takes all the risks himself; you ken bet your life that every man with him was safe and away afore he turned his back on you-uns."
So I pulled out the day after my twentieth birthday and came to Frisco and I've been here ever since. But there was another reason why I left." She sighed and leaned back. "You've heard of Mrs. Cummings, the writer, haven't you? She was up at Mills' place one summer, and I got acquainted with her. I told her I'd always had the writing bug, and she encouraged me.
It was for you, dearey, that I put that money on them cards that night in 'Frisco. I thought to win a heap enough to take you away, and enough left to get you a new dress." Mrs. Decker smiled, and pressed her husband's hand.
Least of all did he betray any recollection of Bill's ironical and gratuitous corroboration of this part of the story. "Nobody knows it," continued Johnson, in a nervous whisper, "nobody knows it but you and the agint in 'Frisco.
Then listen," she proceeded with an air of genial narration. "A pretty girl and her fiancé both from New York were poking round the sights in 'Frisco and, leaving the rest of their party, pushed on into the worst Chinese quarter, without a guide. It had such a bad name that even the police gave it a wide berth.
"And it's blow, ye winds, heigh-ho, For Cal-i-for-ni-o; For there's plenty of gold so I've been told, On the banks of the Sacramento!" It was only a little boy, singing in a shrill treble the sea chantey which seamen sing the wide world over when they man the capstan bars and break the anchors out for "Frisco" port.
French Pete called for his oilskins and sou'wester, and Joe also was equipped with a spare suit. Then he and 'Frisco Kid were sent below to lash and cleat the safe in place. In the midst of this task Joe glanced at the firm-name, gilt-lettered on the face of it, and read: "Bronson & Tate." Why, that was his father and his father's partner. That was their safe, their money!
"It mattered something to us, Nell," put in Jack again, with polite parenthesis; "don't leave US out in the cold." "I started from 'Frisco that night on the boat ready to fling myself into anything or the river!" she went on hurriedly. "There was a man in the cabin who noticed me, and began to hang around.
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