Calico Palace (44 page)

She herself met Captain Pollock at the store the next day. Catching sight of her at the counter, he came over at once. He said nothing worthy of note, but his manner was easy, with none of the constraint he had shown the last time she saw him. She agreed with Loren that his year of prosperous voyaging had soothed his spirit.

As Warren Archwood had foreseen, the steamer
Panama
had no crew trouble. After two weeks in port she left for the Isthmus, carrying thirty thousand ounces of gold and a group of passengers bound for home. One of the passengers was Archwood. He was sorry Marny would not go with him, but not sorry enough to stay any longer in the ugly golden mishmash of San Francisco.

Archwood and Marny parted friends, but without heartbreak. He said he would write to her, but Marny told Kendra she did not expect him to do so. He had had his California adventure, and this chapter in his life was closed.

Marny had thought she would miss him, but she was too busy. Dwight Carson had started the new Calico Palace, and Marny and Norman were searching every warehouse in town for fittings that would make it as splendid as the gambling parlors they remembered from New Orleans and New York. Marny said she was just as well pleased that Archwood was no longer around. Men were for amusement. When she had so much to fill her days, she was content to spend her nights alone. Kendra wondered how long her fit of celibacy would last, but for the present at least Marny did seem happy.

Not long after Archwood sailed, Loren left on another buying trip up the coast. He told Kendra that Ralph and Serena would take care of her, and she was
not
to go on the street alone. Such characters as were coming in now!—beachcombers from the islands, criminals from the convict colonies of Australia, all sorts of fellows who had never done any honest work and did not mean to start now.

Kendra promised. The weather was dusty and disagreeable, and for several days she did not go out, alone or attended. She heard nothing of Captain Pollock. Ralph went to the store every day, but Ralph had no special interest in Pollock or the
Cynthia
and did not know Kendra had any. So it happened that Loren had been gone a week before Kendra learned that now the
Cynthia
too had been deserted.

Marny told her. Escorted by Duke Blackbeard, Marny came up the hill for a chat, but at first she did not think to mention the
Cynthia.
Marny thought Pollock was a blockhead and this was the end of her interest in him and his ship; she was interested in the Calico Palace.

“Kendra darling,” said Marny, “I’ll never finish being thankful to Loren for sending us those Chinese carpenters. Dwight says they’re steady and sensible and they really know their trade. Of course the language is a problem, but they’re learning.”

Kendra had brought in a coffee pot. While she poured, Marny watched her, smiling.

“Motherhood is becoming to you,” said Marny. “You look positively blooming.”

She went on to tell Kendra about a man from Sydney who had come to the bar last night wanting a particular sort of mixed drink. He tried to tell Chad, but Chad came from Boston, and he and the Australian simply could not understand each other’s way of speaking. At length an Englishman, who had lived in both Australia and the United States before coming to California, offered to act as interpreter. Understanding at last, Chad mixed the drink. The man from Sydney gave him a good tip and gratefully bought a drink for the Englishman, and all three were happy.

“It’s not true what people are saying, that all the men from Sydney are jailbirds,” said Marny. “I’ve met several who are quite nice. But I must say, until I got mixed up in this gold rush I never dreamed there were so many different ways of speaking English. Some of these sailors—oh, speaking of sailors, I have some news.”

“Tell me. Since Loren left, I don’t know anything except what’s printed in the
Alta.
”

“The
Alta
doesn’t print this sort. Too commonplace. Just one more ship stranded in the bay.”

“Not the
Cynthia
!” Kendra exclaimed.

“Yes, the
Cynthia.
She’s empty.”

“But what happened?” Kendra asked. “I thought—we all thought—”

As she paused, Marny nodded. “Yes, I heard it over and over. Pollock’s men were different. They were staying with their ship. It couldn’t happen to the
Cynthia.
”

“But it did!” said Kendra.

“Yes, it did.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, dear,” said Marny, “the way they’re telling it along Kearny Street, Pollock did have the smartest sailors on the sea. Too smart to do what so many others have done, steal the ship’s boats and slip off in the middle of the night without waiting for their pay.”

“But Pollock’s men were paid,” Kendra protested. “They came ashore.”

“But when they got on shore,” said Marny, “they inquired around. They were smart enough to want the facts about gold hunting. They found out that men going to the placers needed boots and clothes and tools and bacon and cornmeal and all that other stuff we saw at Smith and Brannan’s store. Also they found out about California prices. The men talked it over, and decided a bigger grubstake was worth a few days’ wait.” Marny smiled. “You see, Pollock had heard how hard it was to get laborers, so he had promised them extra pay for unloading his bricks and readymade houses. The men agreed. When they got that extra pay they went ashore again. And puff!—they vanished.”

“And what,” Kendra exclaimed, “is Pollock doing about it?”

Marny shrugged. “What can he do?”

“You haven’t seen him?”

Marny shook her head. “No. In Honolulu he used to drop in often to see me, but he hasn’t been near me since he came to San Francisco. That’s all right. I hope he keeps out of my way.”

Kendra stood up restlessly. She went to the window and looked out. From here on the first floor she could not see the bay; above the roofs she could see only the tops of the masts, and she wondered which of these were the masts of the
Cynthia.
She wondered what Captain Pollock was going to do now.

I
T WAS A WEEK
before Kendra saw Marny again. They met by chance at Chase and Fenway’s. The store had received a shipment of vegetables from Honolulu, and as Loren was still in Oregon, when Ralph went to work the next morning Kendra walked with him down the hill.

It was not yet nine o’clock, but the streets around the plaza were agog. Wagons creaked through the dust, every driver shouting to the rest of them, “Why don’t you look where you’re going?” Auctioneers bellowed; other men hurried about their business. At sight of Kendra they bowed, made room for her to pass, and hurried on, kicking rubbish out of the way. She heard the buzz of flies loud around the garbage, and though she held her handkerchief to her nose this did not do much to block the smells.

Kearny Street was closely lined with tents, cloth houses, even a few genuine buildings. The most imposing of these was the new hotel called the Parker House, finished at last after a year of standing half built for lack of workmen. The Parker House had two stories and an attic, painted white, with gingerbread trimming. A number of gamblers had rented space for card tables there, Norman among them. The Chinese carpenters had torn down the old Calico Palace to make room for the new one, and Norman did not want to be idle.

Near the Parker House, Kendra saw the carpenters building the Calico Palace. Quaint figures in blue cotton, with straw hats shaped like umbrellas, and pigtails dangling halfway to their knees, they were working with the assurance of men who knew their trade. She saw Dwight Carson supervising them, but he did not see her; he was too busy to look around. It was important to make the most of every workman while you had him. You never could tell when any men, even these sensible Chinese, might catch the gold fever.

Out in the bay Kendra could see the poor deserted ships. Among them, her masts tall and gaunt and empty, was the
Cynthia.
How forsaken she looked, how desolate.

Kendra felt a rush of sympathy for Captain Pollock. No doubt he had been foolish, coming to San Francisco in the serene belief that what had befallen other captains could not befall him. But who on earth, she asked herself, had not sometimes been a fool? And the
Cynthia
need not be a total loss. So fine a ship could readily be sold for a hotel or warehouse. Pollock could get a good price and then go home by way of the Isthmus, knowing he had done the best any man could do.

At the store, Mr. Chase was selling boots and clothes to two miners who had come to town with full pokes in their hands but only rags and tatters on their backs. By the stove sat two croakers, exchanging complaints. Mr. Fenway was making entries in an account book, scowling as if he were going bankrupt instead of getting rich. As he saw Kendra he closed his book and dawdled over.

Ralph went to his own work in the storeroom, saying he would come back later to see her up the hill. When Kendra had bought what she needed, Mr. Fenway dragged over a chair and gave her a copy of the New York
Tribune,
seven weeks old, brought by the
Panama.
Kendra caught sight of herself in a mirror that hung on the wall behind the counter, a price tag on the frame. Marny had been right—she was flowering in her prospect of motherhood. Her skin glowed, her blue eyes were bright and clear. With a smile at her reflection she opened the newspaper.

Mr. Chase, having sold the miners their new clothes, went to the storeroom door and called Foxy.

“I’ve got to go out,” he said. “You show these gentlemen where to change.”

Ambling out, Foxy gave Kendra a grin of welcome. “Morning, Mrs. Shields,” he said, and opened a door leading to a hastily built little room at the back. The two miners, their arms piled with apparel, followed where he led. As was now usual with men returning from the mines, they were going to put on their new clothes right here, and throw out the old ones to add to the litter in the street.

As the miners went out Kendra heard the front door open, and saw Pocket and Hiram, down from the settlement at Sutter’s Fort, now grown to a busy town called Sacramento. She sprang up, and as they caught sight of her they exclaimed and hurried toward her.

Pocket and Hiram were lean and brown and hard-muscled. They had brand new shaves and haircuts, and like the miners they had bought new clothes in honor of this visit to town. They looked tough and handsome, but they did not look citified. It was not possible for Hiram’s thick rust-colored hair to stay tidy for long, nor for Pocket to wear any garment without stuffing it out of shape.

In high spirits, both men began to talk. They told her she looked beautiful, said Loren was a lucky man, and wished her happiness in her marriage. They said they had come to town on business. Their venture of making rockers was paying them well, and they wanted to put their surplus gold dust on the next steamer to be taken to the Mint in Philadelphia.

By this time gold was as cheap in Honolulu as it was in San Francisco, so a man could no longer send his dust there and change it for its value in coins. He had to send it to the Mint. This was a long and expensive business, but worth doing because real money was so much wanted in San Francisco that a man who had any could loan it at interest of ten per cent a month.

“We got to town yesterday,” said Hiram, “and left our gold dust here in the safe while we went looking for a place to sleep.”

“Where did you sleep?” asked Kendra.

“Parker House,” said Hiram. He growled and added, “If you’d call it sleeping.”

Pocket gave a sad sort of laugh. Hiram put both his big hands on the counter and heaved himself up to sit there. Pocket pulled over a box and sat down too, still laughing under his breath. Hiram vehemently continued,

“Has anybody told you about that place, Kendra? A ‘bedroom’ is a cubbyhole four feet by seven—”

“Hiram could hardly get in,” murmured Pocket.

Hiram was still venting his wrath. “—and that cubbyhole has two bunks. Yes, two, one above the other. And the walls between the rooms are nothing but sheets of cloth. If you light a candle your shadow on the cloth shows the neighbors what you are doing. If you speak to your roommate and don’t want them to hear, you have to whisper—”

“Hiram can’t whisper,” said Pocket.

“Most men can’t whisper,” Kendra said laughing.

Hiram certainly could not, nor did he try. He was roaring,

“The gamblers have taken nearly the whole second floor, and the games go on all night, and the racket—if I ever catch one of those gamblers—”

Kendra felt a flash of mischief. “Here comes one now,” she said. The front door was opening, and she had caught sight of Marny, with Norman and Rosabel behind her.

The men saw Marny too. Hiram leaped down from the counter and Pocket sprang up from the box. Rushing to them, Marny joyously embraced them both at once. She called Norman and Rosabel, introduced everybody all round, and explained how Norman happened to be at present one of the Parker House dealers. She was sorry Hiram and Pocket had been kept awake by the gamblers, but she declared that Norman had not been one of them. Not last night. Norman had left his table early because of important errands this morning.

Norman heard her with a faint smile. Norman’s business was gambling. If he had left his table early last night, it had been for his errands this morning, not for the sake of anybody else’s comfort. Much as he admired Marny’s talents he thought her exuberant concern for other people a waste of energy.

The croakers by the stove had quit croaking to look and listen. The two miners came out of the changing room resplendent in red shirts and corduroy breeches and bright new boots, and they too paused. As Mr. Chase was still out and Foxy had been sent back to the storeroom, Mr. Fenway lounged over to offer Norman his services.

Norman explained that he and Marny wanted to be the first to see some furnishings advertised by Chase and Fenway in the latest
Alta.
He supposed these could be seen at their warehouse?

Right, said Mr. Fenway. He would go with Norman and Marny and open the warehouse. However, they would have to wait till Mr. Chase came back; he had gone to look at some goods just unloaded from the
Cynthia,
and both partners could not be away from the store at once.