he said, taking it from Clarence's hand with great politeness. "It is
one of the new pattern, you observe, quite worthy of inspection." He
handed it to a man behind him, who in turn handed it to another, while
a chorus of "suthin quite new," "the latest style," followed it in its
passage round the room, and indicated to Clarence its whereabouts.
It was presently handed back to the barkeeper, who had begged also to
inspect it, and who, with an air of scrupulous ceremony insisted upon
placing it himself in Clarence's side pocket, as if it were an
important part of his function. The driver here called "all aboard."
The passengers hurriedly reseated themselves, and the episode abruptly
ended. For, to Clarence's surprise, these attentive friends of a moment
ago at once became interested in the views of a new passenger concerning
the local politics of San Francisco, and he found himself utterly
forgotten. The bonnetless woman had changed her position, and her head
was no longer visible. The disillusion and depression that overcame him
suddenly were as complete as his previous expectations and hopefulness
had been extravagant. For the first time his utter unimportance in
the world and his inadequacy to this new life around him came upon him
crushingly.

The heat and jolting of the stage caused him to fall into a slight
slumber and when he awoke he found his two neighbors had just got out
at a wayside station. They had evidently not cared to waken him to say
"Good-by." From the conversation of the other passengers he learned that
the tall man was a well-known gambler, and the one who looked like a
farmer was a ship captain who had become a wealthy merchant. Clarence
thought he understood now why the latter had asked him if he came off a
voyage, and that the nickname of "Commodore" given to him, Clarence, was
some joke intended for the captain's understanding. He missed them, for
he wanted to talk to them about his relative at Sacramento, whom he was