“I can sniff the salt water,” said Jack. “Smell it. We must be getting close to the Bay.”
All three chums grew exhilarated at the prospect of soon reaching the world-famous city, which is the Gateway to the Pacific and is unlike any other city in America, with the Latin-like gayety of its populace, its 30,000 Chinamen forming a city of their own within the larger city, and its waterfront crowded with traffic of the Orient—spicy and mysterious.
“I don’t see those fellows,” whispered Frank to his chums, surveying the figures in the club car behind them. “Maybe they left the train.”
But at that very moment, the coolie smuggler who had suspected Frank of overhearing him was tipping the porter to learn to what hotel the boys and Mr. Temple had ordered their baggage sent.
“Well, boys,” said Mr. Temple at breakfast next morning. “I’m going to be busy today talking business with my Pacific Coast representatives. First of all, however, Frank and I shall have to go and lay before the government people this information as to what he overheard. I suppose, Bob, that you and Jack want to go along.”
They sat at table in the Palace Hotel on Market Street in San Francisco. This is one of the most famous hostelries in the world. Lotta’s Fountain is on Market Street outside. Nearby is the intersection of Market, Geary and Kearney Streets—the busiest spot in all the great city. The offices of the big newspapers are adjacent. The hotel itself has housed famous men and women from all parts of the world, has been the scene of great municipal balls and other festivities, and in addition is the Mecca for which head all the prospectors of the gold country and the Yukon when they strike it rich, as they say.
Mr. Temple’s business in the city was to consult with the western representative of the big exporting and importing firm of which he was the head. Frank’s father had been his partner, and on his death had made Mr. Temple his son’s guardian and administrator of his estate.
“We’ll stay a week, if all goes well,” said Mr. Temple. “Of course, if my business engagements take up too much of my time we might stay a day or two longer, as there are some points of interest I intend to visit while here. I’ve been in San Francisco before, but, for one thing, I’ve never gone to the top of Mt. Tamalpais, across the Bay in the Marin County peninsula. I want to make that trip. I suppose,” he added, with a smile, “you won’t object if I am forced to stay more than a week.”