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A PROTEGEE OF JACK HAMLIN'S
by Bret Harte
CONTENTS.
A PROTEGEE OF JACK HAMLIN'S
AN INGENUE OF THE SIERRAS
THE REFORMATION OF JAMES REDDY
THE HEIR OF THE McHULISHES
AN EPISODE OF WEST WOODLANDS
THE HOME-COMING OF JIM WILKES
A PROTEGEE OF JACK HAMLIN'S.
I.
The steamer Silveropolis was sharply and steadily cleaving the broad,
placid shallows of the Sacramento River. A large wave like an eagre,
diverging from its bow, was extending to either bank, swamping the
tules and threatening to submerge the lower levees. The great boat
itself--a vast but delicate structure of airy stories, hanging galleries,
fragile colonnades, gilded cornices, and resplendent frescoes--was
throbbing throughout its whole perilous length with the pulse of high
pressure and the strong monotonous beat of a powerful piston. Floods
of foam pouring from the high paddle-boxes on either side and
reuniting in the wake of the boat left behind a track of dazzling
whiteness, over which trailed two dense black banners flung from its
lofty smokestacks.
Mr. Jack Hamlin had quietly emerged from his stateroom on deck and
was looking over the guards. His hands were resting lightly on his hips
over the delicate curves of his white waistcoat, and he was whistling
softly, possibly some air to which he had made certain card-playing
passengers dance the night before. He was in comfortable case, and his
soft brown eyes under their long lashes were veiled with gentle
tolerance of all things. He glanced lazily along the empty hurricane
deck forward; he glanced lazily down to the saloon deck below him.
Far out against the guards below him leaned a young girl. Mr. Hamlin
knitted his brows slightly.
He remembered her at once. She had come on board that morning with
one Ned Stratton, a brother gambler, but neither a favorite nor intimate
of Jack's. From certain indications in the pair, Jack had inferred that she
was some foolish or reckless creature whom "Ed" had "got on a string,"
and was spiriting away from her friends and family. With the abstract
morality of this situation Jack was not in the least concerned. For
himself he did not indulge in that sort of game; the inexperience and
vacillations of innocence were apt to be bothersome, and besides, a
certain modest doubt of his own competency to make an original
selection had always made him prefer to confine his gallantries to the
wives of men of greater judgment than himself who had. But it
suddenly occurred to him that