this a faint shell pink appeared in her cheeks, though she gave no other
sign that she had heard. Sherwood glanced down at her, amused.

But now emerged the Jew slop seller, very voluble. He had darted like a rat
to some mysterious inner recess of his burrow; but now he was out again
filling the air with lamentations, claims, appeals for justice. Sherwood
did not even glance toward him; but in the very act of tooling his horses
into the roadway tossed the man some silver. Immediately, with shouts and
cheers and laughter, the hoodlums nearby began a scramble.

The end of the long wharf widened to a great square, free of all buildings
but a sort of warehouse near one end. Here a rope divided off a landing
space. Close to the rope the multitude crowded, ready for its
entertainment. Here also stood in stately grandeur the three livery hacks
of which San Francisco boasted. They were magnificent affairs, the like of
which has never elsewhere been seen plying for public hire, brightly
painted, highly varnished, lined with silks, trimmed with solid silver. The
harnesses were heavily mounted with the same metal. On their boxes sat
fashionable creatures, dressed, not in livery, but throughout in the very
latest of the late styles, shod with varnished leather, gloved with softest
kid. Sherwood drove skilfully to the very edge of the roped space, pushing
aside the crowd on foot. They growled at him savagely. He paid no attention
to them, and they gave way. The buggy came to a stop. The horses, tossing
their heads, rolling their eyes, stamping their little hoofs, nevertheless
stood without need of further attention.

Now the brass bands blared with a sudden overwhelming blast of sound, the
crowd cheered noisily; the runners for the hotels began to bark like a pack
of dogs. With a vast turmoil of paddle wheels, swirling of white and green
waters, bellowing of speaking trumpets, throwing of handlines and scurrying