Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1891-09-26
OUT OF A PIONEERS TRUNK.
BY BERT HARrE.

It was a slightly cynical, but fairly
good humored crowd that had gathered
before a warehouse on Long Wharf in
San Francisco one afternoon in the sum
mer Of 81. Although the occasion, was
an auction. the bidders chances more
than usually hazardo $. and the season
and locality famous fOi reckless specula
ton there was scarcely any excitement
among the bystanders, and lazy, half
humorous curiosity seemed to have taken
The place OF any zeal for gain. aR
IL was an auction of unclaimed trunks
md boxes-the personal luggage OF early
emigrants- had been left on stor-
age in hulk or warehouse at San Fran
cisco, while the owner was seeking his
fortune in the mines.
The difficulty and expense Of trans
port. often obliging the gold seeker TO
make part of his jo lrney on foot. restrict
od him to the small st impedimenta, and
that of kind not often found In the hug
gage of ordinary civilization. AS con-
sequence. during the emigration of 40
he was apt on landing TO avail himself Of
the invitation usually displayed on some
Of the doors Of the rude hosteIries on the
shore Rest for the Weary and Storage
for Trunks. IN a majority of cases he
never returned to claim his stored prop
erty. Enforced absence, protracted
equally by good or evil fortune, ac-
cumulated the high storage charges
until they usually far exceeded the
actual value of the goods; sickness,
further emigration, or death also
reduced the number of possible claim
ants, and that more wonderful human
frailty-absolute forgetfulness of depos-
tied ossessions-combined together To
leave the bulk Of the property in the
custodian's hands, Under an under
stood agreement they were always sold
at public auction after given time.
Although the contents Of some of the
trunks were exposed, it was found more
In keeping with the public sentiment to
sell the trunks unlocked and unopened.
The element of curiosity was kept up
from time to time by the incautious dis
closures of the lucky or unlucky pur-
chaser, and general bidding thus
couraged-except when the speculator,
with the true gambling instinct, gave no
indication in his face of what was drawn
n this lottery. Generally, however,
come suggestion in the exterior of the
trunk, a label or initials; some conject-
ural knowledge of its former owner, or
the idea that he might be secretly present
In the hope of getting his property back
for less than the accumulated dues, kept
Al. =. Il lIs,.rw Al ss.ta.nat
A modest looking, well worn portman-
seau had been just put up at a small
opening bid. when Harry Flint joined
the crowd. The young man had arrived
q week before at San Francisco, friend
less and penniless, and had been forced
to part with his own effects to procure
necessary food and lodging while looking
for an employment. In the irony of fate
that morning the proprietors of dry
goods store, struck with his good looks
and manners, had offered him a situa-
ton, if he could make himself more pre-
sentable to their fair clients. Harry
Flint was gazing half abstractedly, half
hopelessly, at the portmanteau without
noticing the auctioneer's persuasive chal-
lenge.
In his abstraction he was not aware
that the auctioneer's assistant was also
looking at him curiously and that possibly
his detected and half clad appearanceha
excited the attention of one of the cyni-
cal bystanders, who was exchanging a
few words with the assistant. He was,
however, recalled to himself moment
later, when the portmanteau was knocked
down at e15. and considerably startled
when the assistant placed 1t at his feet
with grim smile.
"That's your property, Fowler. and I
reckon you look as il you wanted it back
bad.
-Bnt-there's some mistake" STAN.
mered Flint. I didn't bill.
No, but Tom Flynn did for you. You
see spotted you from the first, and told
Flynn Teckoned you were one Of thoss
chaps who came back from the mines
dead broke. And he put up and bought
your things for you-like q square man.
That's Flynn's style, il he is gambler.
But, persisted Flint. this never WAS
my property. Ny name isn't Fowler and
never left anything here.
The assistant looked ct him with
grim, half credulous, half scornful smile.
Have il your way" he said, -but /
uughter tell We, old man, that I'm the
.1.-t~