old Praise god Barebones sits opposite ye. Look yer, old boy
(throwing himself in chair), I kin allow how it comes easy for ye
to run this bank, for it's about as exciting, these times, as faro
was to ye in '49, when I first knew ye as Jack Oakhurst; but how
the Devil you can sit opposite that stiff embodiment of all the Ten
Commandments, day by day, damn it! that's wot GETS me! Why, the
first day I came here on business, the old man froze me so that I
couldn't thaw a deposit out of my pocket. It chills me to think of
it.

Oakhurst (hastily). I suppose I am accustomed to him. But come,
Harry: let me warm you. (Opens door of safe L., and discovers
cupboard, decanter, and glasses.)

York (laughing). By Jove! under the old man's very nose. Jack,
this is like you. (Takes a drink.) Well, old boy, this is like
old times. But you don't drink?

Oakhurst. No, nor smoke. The fact is, Harry, I've taken a year's
pledge. I've six days still to run; after that (gloomily), why
(with a reckless laugh), I shall be Jack Oakhurst again.

York. Lord! to think of your turning out to be anybody's son,
Jack!--least of all, HIS! (Pointing to chair.)

Oakhurst (laughing recklessly). Not more strange than that I
should find Harry York, the spendthrift of Poker Flat, the rich and
respected Mr. York, produce merchant of San Francisco.

York. Yes; but, my boy, you see I didn't strike it--in a rich