Even now the battle waged, no doubt, for Marston that morning reported a
brush with the enemy, had asked for reinforcements. Hull had sent post
haste a pack of ill assorted and undrilled adventurers from among the
new arrivals. That was 9 o'clock and now the sun had passed its noon
meridian--with no courier.
William Leidesdorff came strolling up, his expression placid, smiling as
always. He was warm from toiling up the hill and paused, panting, hat in
hand, to mop his brow with a large red 'kerchief.
"Ha! Commander!" he saluted. "And how goes it this morning?"
Hull glanced at him half irritated, half amused. One could never quite
be angry at this fellow nor in tune with him. Leidesdorff, with his
cherubic grin, his plump, comfortable body, the close-cropped hair, side
whiskers and moustache, framing and embellishing his round face with an
ornate symmetry, was like a bearded cupid. Hull handed him the latest
dispatch. "Nothing since then, confound it!" he said gloomily.
"Ah, well," spoke Leidesdorff, with unction, "one should not be alarmed.
What is that cloud of dust on the horizon? A courier perhaps."
It proved to be Samuel Brannan, dusty and weary, with dispatches from
Captain Ward which Hull almost snatched from his hand.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66