"I understand that they were stored near the headquarters of the Council--Blasius' saloon--known to the police as the House of Blazes."
"I think they should belong to the police," said Coleman dryly. "I dare say Chief Ellis has heard of them, but I shall send word to him before I go to bed."
In a moment more Kendrick called me, and we bade good night to our host.
As we reached the Kendrick house the magnate roused himself from a brown study and said:
"The curmudgeon is a rather amusing cuss, Hampden, if you know how to take him. I advise you to cultivate his acquaintance."
"Do you mean--" I began.
"I mean," said Kendrick sharply, "that the closer you get to a man the more you find out about what he intends to do. If he wants to pay for the pleasure of your society it might be a pity to deny him the privilege."
CHAPTER XI
TROUBLES IN THE MARKET
Storm-signals were flying in the financial quarter of San Francisco. California and Sansome Streets were thronged with men whose faces, anxious, confident, hopeful or despairing, pictured a time of commercial stress. There was an unusual bustle about the orderly precincts of the banks, as clerks rushed in and out with the air of men who carried the fate of the day on their shoulders. Bearers of checks jostled one another in their eagerness to be first at the counters of the paying teller. The doors to the offices of bank presidents and cashiers, that on ordinary days opened but sedately to the occasional visitor, were now swinging constantly to admit their customers in search of unusual accommodation. And even at the savings banks there was a flutter of uneasiness; for at the opening hour a long line of timid-faced men and women had formed in front of the paying tellers' counters.