"
"Who is the lanky fellow with him?" asked Benito. "Looks as if he would
appreciate a joke."
"Oh, that's his friend, Sam Clemens," Adrian answered. "An improvident
cuss but good company. He writes for the Carson Appeal under the name of
Mark Twain."
* * * * *
Benito, that afternoon, was closeted with Harpending and Ralston in the
Bank of California. The financier, who was backing the Montgomery street
venture, regarded Harpending a trifle quizzically. "Once," he said, "you
tried to be a pirate, Asbury.... Oh, no offense," he laid a soothing
hand upon the other's knee. "But tonight I need a desperate man such as
you. Another like Benito. We're going to raid the Mint."
"What?" cried Windham, startled.
"You'll need steadier nerves than that for our enterprise." Ralston
passed his cigar case to the two men, saw them puffing equably ere he
continued. "You know how tight the money situation has become because
President Grant declines to let us exchange our gold bars for coin. With
eight tons of gold in our vault we almost had a run this afternoon....
Now, that's ridiculous." His fist smote the table. "Grant doesn't know
the ropes.
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