Sacramento and had received a "spontaneous ovation."

Meantime the object of it had dropped into an easy-chair by the
window of his room, and was endeavoring to recall a less profitable
memory. The process of human forgetfulness is not a difficult one
between the ages of eighteen and twenty-six, and Paul Hathaway had
not only fulfilled the Mayor's request by forgetting the
particulars of a certain transfer that he had witnessed in the
Mayor's office, but in the year succeeding that request, being
about to try his fortunes in the mountains, he had formally
constituted Colonel Pendleton to act as his proxy in the
administration of Mrs. Howard's singular Trust, in which, however,
he had never participated except yearly to sign his name. He was,
consequently, somewhat astonished to have received a letter a few
days before from Colonel Pendleton, asking him to call and see him
regarding it.

He vaguely remembered that it was eight years ago, and eight years
had worked considerable change in the original trustees, greatest
of all in his superior officer, the Mayor, who had died the year
following, leaving his trusteeship to his successor in office, whom
Paul Hathaway had never seen. The Bank of El Dorado, despite Mrs.
Howard's sanguine belief, had long been in bankruptcy, and,
although Colonel Pendleton still survived it, it was certain that
no other president would succeed to his office as trustee, and that
the function would lapse with him. Paul himself, a soldier of
fortune, although habitually lucky, had only lately succeeded to a
profession--if his political functions could be so described. Even
with his luck, energy, and ambition, while everything was possible,
nothing was secure. It seemed, therefore, as if the soulless