BECOME DESPERATELY ILL—NURSED BACK TO CONSCIOUSNESS—KINDNESS OF AN AGED SPANISH COUPLE—BELT WITH MONEY ENTRUSTED TO ME DISAPPEARS—INTENSE ANXIETY—DISCOVER THE MONEY—GREAT SUFFERING—LAND AT SAN PEDRO—LEFT ON THE BEACH—DRAG MYSELF TO THE SHELTER OF AN OLD WALL—KINDNESS OF A SPANIARD AND HIS WIFE—A TERRIBLE NIGHT—SEEK A PASSAGE TO LOS ANGELES WITH FREIGHTERS—REFUSALS—MEET A KIND TEAMSTER—REACH LOS ANGELES—-DUMPED ON THE STREET—FIND SHELTER, BUT A CHILLY WELCOME—START NEXT MORNING, SICK AND HUNGRY, TO FIND A NEW PLACE—SO ILL I HAVE TO LIE DOWN IN THE STREET—TWO FRIENDS FROM SAN BERNARDINO—AM TOLD THAT I HAVE THE SMALLPOX—MY FRIENDS GIVE ME MONEY AND START IN SEARCH OF A HOUSE WHERE I CAN BE CARED FOR—FAILING TO SECURE A ROOM, THEY ENGAGE THE CITY MARSHAL TO GET A PLACE, AND THEY LEAVE FOR SAN BERNARDINO—I WANDER FOR SHELTER, BUT DOORS ARE CLOSED, AND PEOPLE AVOID ME—LODGE IN A DOCTOR'S OFFICE WHILE THE DOCTOR IS OUT—SCARE THE PEOPLE BY SHOUTING "SMALLPOX!"—THE DOCTOR RETURNS BUT LEAVES ME IN POSSESSION.

ON the voyage down from San Francisco I grew so desperately sick that I lost my reasoning powers, becoming so delirious that afterwards I could only remember removing my coat and vest and turning into bed, on the nail kegs, with my trunks and the mail sacks about me. The next thing that I recall was in the after part of the day, February 1st, 1853, when I began to regain consciousness. There was an old Spanish gentleman and his good old "mahara" (wife) rubbing my hands and feet, while a big crowd of the passengers stood around. My first thought was: What does this mean—who am I—where did I come from—where am I going—-how did I come here, and why are these strangers so interested in me as to be rubbing my hands? The next thing, the old gentleman brought me some refreshments, with a cup of coffee; and when I finally returned to consciousness I inquired what had been the matter. I was told that I had been a very sick man, but was much better, and would soon be well. When the crowd were satisfied that the worst was past they dispersed, but the old gentleman and lady sat near, as if to anticipate any favor I might need. Doubtless the good old couple have been gathered home to their fathers long ere this writing. If so, peace to their ashes; may they in no wise lose their reward, for they administered to the suffering stranger, although they were foreigners, while my own countrymen passed rudely by.

With consciousness returned, I remembered the money that I had in charge. I felt about my body, and to my surprise and mortification the belt was gone. The next thought I had was that I had been robbed by some one on board, and I wondered what could be done to regain the property, or, if it could not be recovered, how could I make amends to the poor women and children whom their husbands and fathers had sent it to? How could I prove my innocence to them? By this time the mental sufferings had overcome the physical pain, and in despair I drew the blankets close about me. In so doing I felt the belt of money lying at my back, under cover. The buckle had been ripped or cut off, most likely the latter, for, as I learned afterwards, in some way it was noised around that I had money.

The reaction of the mental faculties was too much for my weak state, and I almost swooned away; but when I fully recovered from the shock to my nerves, I rolled the belt snugly up, and raised on my knees with my blankets so drawn about my shoulders as to cover the front part of the trunk. Then I placed the belt inside, at the same time taking some article out, so as to divert the observers' attention from my real purpose; I then laid down, suffering with a terrible fever, and put in one night more of great wretchedness.

About 3 or 4 p.m. next day, February 2nd, we landed at San Pedro. There was a great rush for the shore, and for the four or five vehicles that were in waiting. The most of the passengers seemed to be without baggage, save a roll of blankets or a satchel, and as the the writer had so much and was sick, he was the last person to land. Every vehicle was gone, and all the passengers were out of sight before he got his baggage ashore. When this did come, it was thrown on the beach just above high water mark.

At that early date there was not a hotel, boardinghouse, or restaurant anywhere in sight from the landing. One wall of an old adobe warehouse stood near by, and the only thing for the writer to do was to seek what shelter that wall afforded. Thither he dragged his effects, th............