The Gold in the Dust
The Sacramento River in 1850 was not a river; it was a highway of mud, and every man on it was running in the same direction: toward gold. Thomas O'Connor ran in that direction slower than most. He was twenty-four, Irish, and had arrived in San Francisco in January with twelve dollars in his pocket and a head full of stories about the California gold fields. By May, he had learned that the...
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