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Updated: June 27, 2025
He seals the envelop, and hands it to Senator Harris. "I won't leave this camp, Harris, till I get your answer," calmly remarks Joseph. He refuses to waste more words in explanation. "See Hardin," is his only phrase. "It's open war then between him and me." Harris, with a very grave face, enters the private rooms of Judge Hardin at the Orleans Hotel.
Hardin, plunging into the general madness of stock speculation, destined to reign for twenty years, keeps his own counsel. He sneers not at the households queened over by the "Doubtful Loveliness" of the "Rearranged Aristocracy of the Pacific." He has certain twinges when he hears the laughing girl child at play in the bowers of his park.
Happy California! happy, but inglorious. The railway approaches completion. A great activity of scientific mining, enterprises of scope and local development, urge the Western communities to action. The bonanza of Lagunitas gives Judge Hardin even greater local prominence. He establishes his residence at the old home in the Sierras.
There is a peculiar grimness also in the visage of the watchful Peyton. Everyone in the room is on the alert. Crowding to the front, Hardin is elbowed by a man who seats himself in a chair reserved by Judge Davis. His eyes are blinded for a moment. Great Heavens! It is his old law-clerk. The wily and once hilarious Jaggers. He is here for some purpose. That devil Woods' work.
"I'm bound to find out what makes that noise, as sure as anything can be," was what the boy was telling himself resolutely, even while he crept out from among the folds of the warm blanket endeared to him by reason of many associations of the past, of which so much has been written in previous volumes. That was just like Hugh Hardin.
They come in squads, bolting through Mexico or slipping through Arizona. Some reach Panama and Havana, gaining the South by blockade runners. He opens mail communication with Judge Hardin, via Havana. He succeeds in exchanging views with the venerable head of his house at New Orleans. It is all gloomy now. Old and despondent, the New Orleans patriarch has sent his youthful son away to Paris.
There is a smile of satisfaction on the lovely face of Natalie. She peruses the letters from Hardin and the count. They announce the arrangement of the dower for the absent "Irene Duval." Villa Rocca is in San Francisco. The count forwards one set of the drafts, without comments. He only says he will bring the seconds, and thirds of exchange himself, He is going to come "home."
Only five Americans were wounded, while of the Indians thirty-two were slain, as they fought or fled, and forty-one prisoners, chiefly women and children, were brought in, either by Scott himself or by his detachments under Hardin and Wilkinson. Several towns were destroyed, and the crowing corn cut down. Raid of Wilkinson.
The first gold-seekers must pass out from active affairs before the real State is honestly builded up. No man, not even Philip Hardin, could foresee, with the undecided problems of 1860, what would be the status of California in ten years, as to law, finance, commerce, or morals. A sudden start might take the mass of the people to a new Frazer River or another Australia.
Hugh made no remark just then, but perhaps this suggestion of possible trouble cause him a little concern. He could be seen looking gravely toward the immense pile of real and imitation stone as though mentally figuring what it might be possible to do in a sudden emergency. As numerous events in the past had proved, Hugh Hardin was always a great hand for mapping out things beforehand.
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