" I watched this a while and saw that
the dealer won much oftener than he lost, and it seemed to be a simple
and easy way to make a living when money was plenty.
We strolled around town looking at the sights, and the different
business places, the most lively of which had plenty of music inside,
lots of tables with plenty of money on them, and many questionable lady
occupants. These business places were liberally patronized and every
department flourishing, especially the bar. Oaths and vulgar language
were the favorite style of speech, and very many of the people had all
the whiskey down them that they could conveniently carry.
We got through the town safely and at the river we found a steamboat
bound for San Francisco and the fare was two ounces. The runners were
calling loudly for passengers, and we were told we could never make the
trip any cheaper for they had received a telegram from below saying that
no boat would come up again for two days. I said to him "I can't see
your telegram. Where is it?" At this he turned and left us. He had
thought, no doubt, that miners were green enough to believe anything. In
the course of an hour the smoke of a steamer was seen down the river,
and this beat out the runners who now offered passage for half an ounce.
At this time there was no telegraph and the delay was a lucky one for
us. We took passage and went to San Francisco that night, where we put
up at a cheap tavern near where the Custom House now stands.
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