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Updated: May 18, 2025
As they got into their boats, after an hour's stay, we were invited to join them in the raid with the assurance of "the more the merrier." "Did you notice that short, Mexican-looking chap?" Nicholas asked, when they had departed to their various sloops. "He's Barchi, of the Sporting Life Gang, and the fellow that came with him is Skilling. They're both out now on five thousand dollars' bail."
Nearly always somethin' doing in little old Epitaph," answered the public quencher of thirsts, polishing the glass top of the bar with a cloth. "Playing with the lid off back there, ain't they?" The sheriff's nod indicated the distant faro-table. "That's right, I guess. Only blue chips go." "It's Wolf Leroy that Mexican-looking fellow there," Hawkes explained in a whisper.
He was a dark, slick, Mexican-looking man, who dangled his hat nervously from his fingers, and kept glancing at the door. Presently it opened, a policeman put his head in And said, "Witness Manuel Gora." The Mexican jumped and shuffled hastily out. Father took the Alta California from his coat pocket, and I sat trying to make out the pattern in the old carpet at my feet.
As they got into their boats, after an hour's stay, we were invited to join them in the raid with the assurance of "the more the merrier." "Did you notice that short, Mexican-looking chap?" Nicholas asked, when they had departed to their various sloops. "He's Barchi, of the Sporting Life Gang, and the fellow that came with him is Skilling. They're both out now on five thousand dollars' bail."
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