it. It is with feelings of the most profound humiliation, Mr. Stanley, that I confess to allowing cards and wine to run me into so embarrassing a mistake."
"Under the circumstances," said Mark, "I think it a perfectly natural mistake."
"Yes, indeed, Mr. Stanley; yes, indeed, sir. I earnestly hope that there will be no feeling in your mind that I did this thing intentionally?"
"Don't speak of it," smiled Mark: "a man of established reputation, like yourself, certainly would not act so contemptibly with an unknown stranger."
The judge's face beamed.
"You do us both, honor and credit," he said. "You add another to your list of admirable attributes,—generosity. Sagacity, facetiousness, generosity. A wonderful galaxy of virtues in so young a man, Mr. Stanley. Ah, my dear Mr. Stanley, we must know each other better. We must indeed."
A few days later the Maydews came, and to them were devoted the attentions of whoever was interested in California as a mining State. They were feasted, toasted, serenaded, flattered, worn out with pretty sayings and pretty doings.
"It's because of our social position in the East," said Mr. Maydew.
"It's because of our money," declared his fair daughter, with far more accurate foresight.
All of this time, Mark Stanley kept delightfully in the background, and never once presented himself, either to Judge Desborough or to the Maydews. His so doing made the judge believe that Mark Stanley was an impostor. He could not understand why a man who seemed to be playing for such high stakes should keep so abominably still. But Mark was deeper than his legal associate thought: he was waiting until Miss Maydew found the attentions she was receiving nauseous. He did not have long to wait. In less than two weeks after her arrival in San Francisco, Miss Maydew regretted ever leaving the East. Before another week elapsed, she had so emphatically and so openly expressed this feeling that all California despaired of interesting the Maydews in Western mining-affairs.
At this time, Mark and the judge met in the street, one day. The judge fairly bristled the moment he saw Mark.
"Well, sir," he said, "things have come to a fine pass, haven't they? The Maydews are going back East again. If you have any of your boasted influence with them, why in hell don't you exert it, sir?"
"Softly, old man," said Mark; "step softly and breathe low. Things are going just exactly as I knew they would,—just exactly as I wished them to. You people hero have pitched in and made California intolerable to the Maydews. They are getting more and more sick of it, every day. When they can stand no more, and begin packing their trunks to go home again, as they very soon will, then my time come ; then I will have you just where I want you. Then you will squeal like a hog with his tail shut in a gate."
