They
came from far away, from Amador or Placer, laden with silver in
"old cigar boxes." They discharged their load at Silverado, in the
hour of sleep; and before the morning they were gone again with
their mysterious drivers to their unknown source. In this way,
twenty thousand pounds' worth of silver was smuggled in under cover
of night, in these old cigar boxes; mixed with Silverado mineral;
carted down to the mill; crushed, amalgated, and refined, and
despatched to the city as the proper product of the mine. Stock-
jobbing, if it can cover such expenses, must be a profitable
business in San Francisco.
I give these two versions as I got them. But I place little
reliance on either, my belief in history having been greatly
shaken. For it chanced that I had come to dwell in Silverado at a
critical hour; great events in its history were about to happen--
did happen, as I am led to believe; nay, and it will be seen that I
played a part in that revolution myself. And yet from first to
last I never had a glimmer of an idea what was going on; and even
now, after full reflection, profess myself at sea. That there was
some obscure intrigue of the cigar-box order, and that I, in the
character of a wooden puppet, set pen to paper in the interest of
somebody, so much, and no more, is certain.
Silverado, then under my immediate sway, belonged to one whom I
will call a Mr.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108