The Gray Dawn

The Gray Dawn

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Title: The Gray Dawn
Author: Stewart Edward White
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THE GREY DAWN
BY
STEWART EDWARD WHITE
Illustrated by Thomas Fogarty
ILLUSTRATIONS
They moved away, leaving Mrs. Morrell alone, biting her lips and
planning revenges
King listened to him in silence
"Look here, don't try to come that rot. I said, get out--and I mean it!"
"Call all you please," he sneered. "Nobody's going to pay any attention
to your calls at Jake's Place!"
OTHER BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE CLAIM JUMPERS THE WESTERNERS THE BLAZED TRAIL
ARIZONA NIGHTS BLAZED TRAIL STORIES THE CABIN CAMP

AND TRAIL CONJUROR'S HOUSE THE FOREST THE SIGN AT
SIX THE RULES OF THE GAME
THE RIVERMAN THE SILENT PLACES THE ADVENTURES OF
BOBBY ORDE THE MOUNTAINS THE PASS THE MAGIC
FOREST THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS AFRICAN CAMP FIRES
THE REDISCOVERED COUNTRY GOLD THE MYSTERY (With
Samuel Hopkins Adams)
THE GRAY DAWN
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS IN TALE
MILTON KEITH: a young lawyer from Baltimore. NAN KEITH: his
wife. JOHN SHERWOOD: a gambler. PATSY SHERWOOD: his wife.
ARTHUR MORRELL: an English adventurer. MIMI MORRELL: his
wife or mistress. BEN SANSOME: a lady-killer, destined to become an
"old beau." W. T. COLEMAN, or "old Vigilante," a leader. DAVID
TERRY: a leader on the other side. JAMES KING OF WILLIAM: a
modern Crusader. THE SPIRIT OF SAN FRANCISCO AND
OTHERS

I
On the veranda of the Bella Union Hotel, San Francisco, a man sat
enjoying his morning pipe. The Bella Union overlooked the Plaza of
that day, a dusty, unkempt, open space, later to be swept and graded
and dignified into Portsmouth Square. The man was at the younger
fringe of middle life. He was dressed neatly and carefully in the
fashionable costume of the time, which was the year of grace 1852. As
to countenance, he was square and solid; as to physique, he was the
same; as to expression, he inclined toward the quietly humorous; in
general he would strike the observer as deliberately, philosophically
competent. A large pair of steelbound spectacles sat halfway down his
nose. Sometimes he read his paper through their lenses; and sometimes,
forgetting, he read over the tops of their bows. The newspaper he held

was an extraordinary document. It consisted of four large pages. The
outside page was filled solidly with short eight or ten line
advertisements; the second page grudgingly vouchsafed a single
column of news items; the third page warmed to a column of editorial
and another of news; all the rest of the space on these and the entire
fourth page was again crowded close with the short advertisements.
They told of the arrival of ships, the consignment of goods, the
movements of real estate, the sales of stock, but mainly of auctions.
The man paid little attention to the scanty news, and none at all to the
editorials. His name was John Sherwood, and he was a powerful and
respected public gambler.
The approach across the Plaza of a group of men caused him to lay
aside his paper, and with it his spectacles. The doffing of the latter
strangely changed his whole expression. The philosophical
middle-aged quietude fell from him. He became younger, keener, more
alert. It was as though he had removed a disguise.
The group approaching were all young men, and all dressed in the
height of fashion. At that rather picturesque time this implied the
flat-brimmed beaver hat; the long swallowtail, or skirted coat; the tight
"pantaloons"; varicoloured, splendid, low-cut waistcoats of satin, of
velvet, or of brocade; high