Concho. Oakhurst your partner!
Sandy (angrily). Yes. Look ye, Concho, he has wronged me in a private way: that is MY business, not YOURS; but he was MY partner, no one shall abuse him before me.
Concho. Be it so. Then sink here! Rot here! Go back to your husks, O prodigal! wallow in the ditches of this camp, and see your birthright sold for a dram of aguardiente! Lie here, dog and coyote that you are, with your mistress under the protection of your destroyer! For I tell you—I, Concho, the cripple—that the man who struck me down, the man who stepped into your birthright, the man who to-morrow welcomes your sweetheart in his arms, who holds the custody of your child, is your partner,—John Oakhurst.
Sandy (who has been sinking under CONCHO'S words, rising convulsively to his feet). God be merciful to me a sinner! (Faints.)
Concho (standing over his prostrate body exultingly). I am right. You are wise, Concho, you are wise! You have found Alexander Morton!
Hop Sing (advancing slowly to SANDY'S side, and extending open palm). Me washee shirt flo you, flowty dozen hab. You no payee me. Me wantee twenty dollar hep. Sabe!
Curtain.
ACT III.
SCENE 1.—The bank parlor of Morton & Son, San Francisco. Room richly furnished; two square library desks, left and right. At right, safe in wall; at left, same with practicable doors. Folding door in flat C., leading to counting-room. Door in left to private room of ALEXANDER MORTON, sen.; door in right to private room of MORTON, jun. ALEXANDER MORTON, sen., discovered at desk R., opening and reading letters.
Morton, sen. (laying down letter). Well, well, the usual story; letters from all sorts of people, who have done or intend to do all sorts of things for my reclaimed prodigal. (Reads.) "Dear Sir: five years ago I loaned some money to a stranger who answers the description of your recovered son. He will remember Jim Parker,—Limping Jim, of Poker Flat. Being at present short of funds, please send twenty dollars, amount loaned, by return mail. If not convenient, five dollars will do as instalment." Pshaw! (Throws letter aside, and takes up another.) "Dear Sir: I invite your attention to enclosed circular for a proposed Home for Dissipated and Anonymous Gold-Miners. Your well-known reputation for liberality, and your late valuable experience in the reformation of your son, will naturally enlist your broadest sympathies. We enclose a draft for five thousand dollars, for your signature." We shall see! Another: "Dear Sir: the Society for the Formation of Bible Classes in the Upper Stanislaus acknowledge your recent munificent gift of five hundred dollars to the cause. Last Sabbath Brother Hawkins of Poker Flat related with touching effect the story of your prodigal to an assemblage of over two hundred miners. Owing to unusual expenses, we regret to be compelled to draw upon you for five hundred dollars more." So! (Putting down letter.) If we were given to pride and vainglory, we might well be puffed up with the fame of our works and the contagion of our example: yet I fear that, with the worldly-minded, this praise of charity to others is only the prayerful expectation of some personal application to the praiser. (Rings hand-bell.)