'*«*1M./
BY
HORAIIC
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The Road Agent Meets His Match.
DIGGING FOR GOLD
A STOUT OF CALIFORNIA
BY
HOEATIO ALGER, Je.
AUTHOa OF "the bagged dick SEEIES," "TATTEBEE TOM SEBIEB,'
"luce and pluck BEEIES," "PAOinC SEEIES," ETC., ETC.
THE JOHK C. WINSTOIT CO.
PHILADELPHIA
CHICAGO TORONTO
FAMOUS ALGER BOOKS.
RAGGED DICK SERIES. By Hobatio Algeb, Jb. 6 vols. 12iuo. Cloth.
Ragged Dick. Rough and Ready.
Fame and Fobtune. Ben the Luggage Boy.
Mark the Match Boy. Rufus and Rose.
TATTERED TOM SERIES. By HoBATio Algeb, Jb. 4 vola. 12mo.
Cloth. FiBST Sebies.
Tattebed Tom. Phil the Fiddler.
Paul the Peddleb. Slow and Sube.
TATTERED TOM SERIES. 4 vols. 12ino. Cloth. Second Sbbibb.
Julius. Sam's Chance.
The Young Outlaw. The Telegbaph Boy.
CAMPAIGN SERIES. By Hobatio Algeb, Jb. 3 vols.
Frank's Campaign. Chablie Codman's Cbuisb.
Paul Pbescott's Charge.
LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES. By Hobatio Alger, Jb. 4 vols. 12mo.
Cloth. FiBST Sebies.
Luck and Pluck. Stbong and Steady.
Sink ob Swim. Stbive and Succeed.
LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES. 4 vols. 12mo. Cloth. Second SEBira.
Try and Trust. Risen from the Ranks.
Bound to Risk. Herbert Carter's Legacy.
BRAVE AND BOLD SERIES. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 4 vola. 12mo.
Cloth.
Brave and Bold. Shifting for Himself.
Jack's Ward. Wait and Hope.
PACIFIC SERIES. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 4 vols. 12mo.
The Young Adventurer. The Young ExPLOBEBa.
The Young Mineb. Ben's Nugget.
ATLANTIC SERIES. By Hobatio Alger, Jr. 4 vols.
The Young Circus Rider. Hector's Inheritance.
Do AND Dare. Helping Himself.
WAY TO SUCCESS SERIES. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 4 vols. 12mo.
Cloth.
Bob Burton. Luke Walton.
The Store Boy. Struggling Upward.
NEW WORLD SERIES. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 3 vols. 12ino. Cloth.
Digging for (Sold. Facing the World. In a New World.
Other Volumes in Preparation.
Copyright, 1892, by Porter A Coatbs.
CONTENTS.
CBAFTEB
I. Grant and His Mother,
II. Rodney Bartlett, .
III. A Terrible Responsibility,
IV. Grant Saves the Train, .
V. Grant Orders a New Suit,
VI. Seth Tarbox Makes a Discovery
VII. Grant Makes up His Mind, .
Vin. All is Settled, ....
IX. The Long Journey Begins, .
X. Mr. Silverthorn's Treachery,
XI. An Indian Encounter,
XII. In Dire Distress, .
Xin. The Solitary Cabin,
XTV. The New Acquaintance,
XV. Arrival at Sacramento,
XVI. Grant Gets a Job, . . .
XVII. An Unpleasant Adventure,
XVIII. A True Friend,
XIX. Grant Falls Under Suspicion,
XX. Benton is Trapped, .
XXI, Albert Benton is Unmasked,
iil
FA6B
1
10
20
29
38
47
57
65
76
86
96
105
114
12a
132
137
142
149
158
168
176
tv
CONTENTS.
CHAPTBB
PAOK
XXII.
PxjLLiNG UP Stakes, ...
. 188
XXIII.
Thk First Day at the Mines,
197
XXIV.
Grant Has an Adventure,
. 205
XXV.
Another Lonely Cabin,
311
XXVI.
Nahum Stockton,
. .219
XXVII.
Paul Crambo, ....
226
XXVIII.
The Beginning of Success,
. 236
XXIX.
Benton Has a Plan,
246
XXX.
Benton Lays His Plans, .
. 256
XXXI.
Benton Opens the Trunk, .
263
XXXII.
A Letter from Mr. Crosmont,
. 273
XXXIII.
On to the Golden Gate,
277
XXXIV.
A Startling Incident,
. 283
XXXV.
A Tragedy,
293
XXXVI.
The Tarbox Family, . . . .
• . 303
XXXVII.
Mrs. Bartlett's Little Sch kme, .
314
XXXVIII.
Finding TH K Prodigal,
. 323
XXXIX.
Grant Hears from Home, .
333
XT/.
Conclusions, . » . .
. 340
DIGGING EOU GOLD.
CHAPTER I.
GEANT AND HIS MOTHEK.
«*"A yTOTHER, this is an important day for
aS/JL me," said Grant Colburn, as he entered
the kitchen with an armful of wood, and de-
posited it in the box behind the stove.
His mother looked up from the table where
she was cutting out pie crust, and asked in
surprise, ' ' What do you mean. Grant ? Why
is to-day any different from ordinary days ? "
'* I am sixteen to-day, mother ! ''
^^So you are. Grant. I ought to have
thought of it. I am sorry," she added wist-
fully, '^ that I haven't got a present for you,
but you know Mr. Tarbox "
'' Is the stingiest man in the country. Yes,
I know that well enough."
2 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
'^I actually haven't a cent that I can call
my own, Grant."
" I know that very well, mother. It was an
unlucky day when you married that old skin-
flint."
''Don't call him that, Grant," said his
mother, with an apprehensive look in the di-
rection of the door.
''He's all that, and more if possible. When
did he give you any money last?"
" Two weeks ago."
"And how much did he give you at that
time?"
' ' Twenty-five cents. ' '
"What a shame! Why, if you had hired
out as his housekeeper he would have been
compelled to give you more."
"Yes, Grant,'' sighed Mrs. Tarbox, "I wish
I were his housekeeper instead of his wife. I
should be more independent."
" He made a good bargain when he married
you, mother. But I never understood why
you married Am."
" I acted for the best, as I thought, Grant.
You know how your poor father left us.
GRANT AND HIS MOTHER. 3
After liis a'ffairs were settled, there were only-
two hundred and fifty dollars left, and you
were but twelve years old. I took in sewing,
and earned what I could, but at the end of a
year I had used up a hundred dollars of our
small capital. Then Mr. Tarbox asked me to
marry him, and I agreed, for I thought it
would give us a comfortable home."
'^ A comfortable home ! " repeated Grant.
"We have enough to eat, it is true, but you
never worked so hard in your life, and I can
say the same for myself. I was barely four-
teen when Mr. Tarbox took me away from
school, and since then I have had to work
early and late. At five o'clock, winter and
summer, I have to turn out of bed, and work
all day, so that when night comes I am dead
tked."
'* That is true, Grant, " said his mother, with
a look of distress. " You work too hard for a
boy of your age."
**And what do I get for it?" continued
Grant indignantly. "I haven't any clothes.
Charlie Titus asked me the other day why I
didn't go to church. I was ashamed to tell him
4 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
that it was because I had no clothes fit to wear
there. It is a year since I had my last suit,
and now I have grown out of it. My coat is
too short in the sleeves, and my pantaloons in
the legs.''
'^ Perhaps I can lengthen them out, G-rant."
*' You did it six months ago. There is no
more chance. No, I'll tell you what I am go-
ing to do. I'll ask Mr. Tarbox for a new suit,
and as it is my birthday, perhaps he will open
his heart and be generous for once."
*' It is a good plan. Grant. There he is now,
out by the well curb."
''Then I'll speak at once. Wish me luck,
mother."
'' I do, my son. I heartily wish you ^ood
luck now and always."
Grant opened the side door, and went out
into the yard. Seth Tarbox looked up, and
his glance fell upon his step-son.
'' Come here, Grant," he said, "I want you
to turn the grindstone while I sharpen my
scythe."
''Wait a minute, Mr. Tarbox. I want to
speak to you."
GRANT AND HIS MOTHER. 5
"Go ahead! You can speak if yon want
to," said Tarbox, slightly surprised.
" It is my birthday to-day."
'^Isit? How old be you ? "
" Sixteen."
" A boy of sixteen ought to do a great deal
of work. Why, you are 'most a man."
'^ I do a good deal of work, Mr. Tarbox, but
I don't seem to get much pay for it."
"Hey? You want pay? Why, don't you
get your victuals and clothes ? "
"I get my victuals, yes. But I don't get
clothes, and that is just what I want to speak
to you about."
Mr. Tarbox began to grow uneasy. He knew
what was coming.
" What have you got on, I'd like to know ? "
he inquired.
" Some rags and overalls," answered Grant
bluntly.
" They're good enough to work in. You've
got a suit to wear Sundays."
"Have I? It's hardly fit to wear common
days. Why, it's a year since I had the suit,
and I've outgrown it."
b DIGGING FOE GOLD.
"I'm afraid you're getting proud, Grant,"
said his step-father uneasily.
'' I'm not proud of my clothes, I can tell you
that. Mr. Tarbox, I've worked for you the
last year early and late, and I think 1 ought to
have a new suit. It will make a nice birthday
present."
*^ Money's very skerce, Grant," said his
step-father uneasily, *'and clothes are very
high. I gave twelve dollars for that last suit
of yours. It came hard. Think how long it
takes to earn twelve dollars. I haven't had a
suit myself for ten months."
"But you can have one if you want it."
"I'll tell you what I'll do, Grant," said Mr.
Tarbox, with a bright idea. '* You're 'most as
big as I am. You're unusually large for your
age. I'll buy a new suit for myself, and give
you mine. Your mother can ^x. it over to fit
you."
Grant's face assumed a look of disgust.
"Thank you, Mr. Tarbox," he said, "but I
don' t want to wear your old clothes. If I can' t
have a new suit I don't want any."
"'Pears to me you're mighty particular."
GEANT AND HIS MOTHER. 7
"I don't think so. I only want what's
right. Most boys of my age have at least two
new suits a year. Charlie Titus had three."
"Then his father's very foolish to gratify
his love of finery. Come, we'd better go to
work."
"You haven't answered my question yet,
Mr. Tarbox."
" What is it ? " asked Tarbox peevishly.
" Will you buy me a new suit?"
"Wait two or three months, Grant."
" Why should I wait two or three months ?
I need the clothes now."
" Money may be easier then."
"I am not willing to wait."
" 'Pears to me you're very headstrong, Grant
Colburn," said the farmer in a tone of dis-
pleasure.
"I want my rights. I won' t work if you are
going to deal so closely with me."
Seth Tarbox frowned, and looked perplexed.
But presently an idea came to him and his face
smoothed.
"Perhaps we can fix it, Grant," he said in
a conciliatorv tone.
8 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
Grant felt encouraged. It looked as if his
request were to be granted.
^' I sliall be very much obliged to you," he
said.
**Wait a minute! You aint got my idea.
Your mother has money."
''What if she has?" asked Gfrant suspic-
iously.
*'If she will lend you ten or twelve dollars
to buy a suit I'll make it up to her in, say
three or four months."
Grant's face darkened. He knew very well
that the money never would be repaid, and he
penetrated the crafty design of his step-father.
' ' !N"o, Mr. Tarbox, ' ' he said. * ' My mother' s
money must not be touched. There's little
enough of it, and I don't want her to run the
risk of losing it."
"But she won't lose it. Didn't I say I
would pay it back ? "
''Why can't you advance the money your-
self«"
"Didn't I tell you money was skerce?"
said Seth Tarbox irritably.
"I know you've got money in two savings
GEANT AND HIS MOTHER. 9
banks, besides some railroad bonds. Tom
Wilson told me the other day that you had
over five thousand dollars in money and
bonds."
^'Tom Wilson don't know anything about
my affairs," said Tarbox hastily. 'Til think
it over, Grant, and mebbe — I won't promise —
I'll see what I can do for you. Now we'll go
to work. It's a sin to be idle.'^
CHAPTER IT.
EODNEY BAETLETT.
MR. TARBOX'S farm was located in
Woodburn, rather a small town in
Iowa. He was originally from Connecticut,
but at tlie age of thirty removed to the then
frontier Western State. He owned a large
farm, which he had bought at the government
price of one dollar and a quarter an acre. He
also owned a smaller farm a mile and a half
west of the one he occupied, and this he culti-
vated on shares. It had been a lucky pur-
chase, for a railway intersected it, and he had
obtained a large price for the land used. Be-
sides his two farms, he had from six to seven
thousand dollars in money ; yet it seemed that
the richer he grew the meaner he became. He
had a married daughter, living in Crestville,
six miles away, and when he died she and her
family would no doubt inherit the miserly
farmer's possessions. Like her father she was
10
EODIS-EY BARTLETT. 11
selfish and close so far as others were con-
cerned, but she was willing to spend money on
herself. She had a son about the age of Grant,
who liked to wear good clothes, and was some-
thing of a dude. His name was Rodney Bart-
lett, and he looked down with infinite con-
tempt on his grandfather's hard-working step-
son.
Just before twelve o'clock a smart looking
buggy drove into the yard. The occupants of
the buggy were Rodney and his mother.
^^Hey, you!" he called out to Grant,
''come and hold the horse while we get
out."
Grant came forward and did as he was re-
quested. Had Rodney been alone he would
not have heeded the demand, but Mrs. Bart-
lett's sex claimed deference, though he did not
like her.
''Just go in and tell your mother we've
come to dinner."
But Grant was spared the trouble, for the
farmer came up at this moment.
"Howdy do, Sophia!" he said. "What
sent you over ? ' '
12 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
u
I wanted to consnlt yon about a little
matter of business, father. I hope Mrs. Tar-
box will have enough dinner for ns."
** I reckon so, I reckon so," said Seth Tar-
box, who, to do him justice, was not mean as
regarded the table. ' ' How' s your husband ? ' '
'^Oh, he's ailing as usual. He's lazy and
shiftless, and if it wasn't for me I don't know
what would become of us."
By this time the two had entered the house.
Rodney stayed behind, and glanced supercili-
ously at Grant.
*' Seems to me you're looking shabbier than
ever," he said.
** You're right there," said Grant bitterly,
^* but it isn't my fault."
^^ Whose is it?"
^^Your grandfather's. He won't buy me
any clothes."
" Well, you're not kin to him."
*' I know that, but I work hard and earn a
great deal more than I get."
'* I don't know about that. Maybe I can
hunt up one of my old suits for you," Rodney
added patronizingly.
EODNEY BAETLETT. 13
*' Thank you, but I don't want anybody's
cast-off clothes ; at any rate, not yours."
*^ You're getting proud," sneered Kodney.
** You can call it that if you like."
** Don't you wish you was me, so you could
wear good clothes all the time ? "
** I should like to wear the good clothes, but
I'd rather be myself than anybody else."
^'Sometime I shall be rich," said Rodney
complacently. '' I shall have all grandfather's
money."
^* Won't it go to your mother ? "
*^ Oh, well, she'll give it to me. I hope you
don't think you and your mother will get any
of it?"
*' We ought to, for mother is making a slave
of herself, but I don't think we will. If your
grandfather would do more for us now we
wouldn't mind inheriting anything."
There was a tapping on the front window.
*^That means dinner, I suppose," sai(3
Grant.
''Are you going to sit down with us?"
asked Eodney, eying Grant's costume wit^
disfavor.
14 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
^ 'In those clothes ?"
''I haven't time to change them. Besides
my Sunday suit isn't much better."
At the table, toward the close of the meal,
Rodney said, ''Grandfather, Grant isn't
dressed very well."
Seth Tarbox frowned.
"Has he been complaining to you ? " he
asked. "He's been jDesterin' all the mornin'
about new clothes. I told him money was
skerce."
"lean save you expense, grandfather. I
will give him an old suit of mine — one I have
cast off."
"Why, that's an excellent plan," said Tar-
box, brighteniug up. "Do you hear that,
Grant ? You won't need to buy a new suit for
yourself now."
"I don't care for any of Rodney's old
clothes," answered Grant, with an indignant
flush.
"Sho! sho ! You're acting very contrary.
Rodney's suit is a good deal better than yours,
I've no doubt."
EODISTEY BAETLETT. 15
^' I don't know whether it is or not, but Fm
entitled to new clothes, and I want them."
*^ What do you say to that, Mrs. Tarbox ? "
demanded the farmer, looking over at his
wife.
^' I say that he is right. Grant has worked
hard, Mr. Tarbox, and he ought to be decently
dressed."
''Eodney," said his mother, ^*your kind
offer is thrown away."
'^So I see," said Rodney, extending his
plate for another piece of pie.
*^rm sorry you take Grant's part, Mrs. T.,"
said the farmer. *' I won't countenance no ex-
travagance. What's the use of spending good
money when a suit of clothes is offered for
nothing."
'' If the suit is a good one," retorted Grant,
** why does Rodney lay it aside ? "
"There is a difference between him and
you," said Mrs. Bartlett in an acid tone.
'/What differenced'
*' I'm a gentleman and you're a farm boy,'^
said Rodney, taking it upon himself to an-
swer.
16 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
'^ I shan't always be a farm boy ! "
'' !N'o, you won't be a boy when you're grown
up," returned Rodney, looking around to see
if his Joke were appreciated.
*' There aint no disgrace in bein' a farm
boy," said Seth Tarbox. ''I worked on a
farm myself when I was a boy, and I've worked
on a farm ever since."
"I'm going to college, and be a lawyer,"
said Rodney in a consequential tone.
*' It costs a sight of money to go to college,
Sophia," said Tarbox deprecatingly.
''I shall make a lot of money when I am a
lawyer, ' ' explained Rodney. ' ' Why, I read in
the paper that there are some lawyers that make
fifty, thousand dollars. Besides, I may get
elected to Congress. That's better than work-
ing on a farm. When Gfrant is getting fifteen
dollars a month and his board, as a hired man
on a farm, I will ride in my carriage, and live
like a gentleman."
'' I may be a rich man myself," interrupted
Gfrant.
'-' You a rich man ! Ho, ho ! " laughed Rod-
ney. " You look like it."
EODKEY BAETLETT. 17
*'No, I don't look like it, but I may get
there all the same."
''Yon talk a good deal for a boy of your
age," remarked Mrs. Bartlett in a tone of re-
buke.
'' No more than Rodney."
. But Grant, looking at his mother, saw that
she was disturbed, and refrained from noticing
any further speeches of his young antagonist.
''By the way, father," said Mrs. Bartlett,
*' you remember John Hey wood, of our town 1 "
" Yes ; what of him ? "
" He's just QOo back from California."
"It's dreadful expensive goin' to Cali-
fornia."
"That isn't of much account if you can bring
back a lot of money."
"Did John Hey wood bring back a lot of
money?" asked the farmer, pricking up his
ears.
"He brought back ten thousand dollars. '*
"Sho! How you talk!"
"It's true, every word of it."
" How did he make it ? "
"Mining, I believe. He's bought the Ezra
2
18 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
Jones place, and is going to put up a nice
hi use."
Among the most interested listeners was
Grant Colburn. His color went and came, and
he seemed excited.
"How long was Mr. Hey wood in Califor-
nia," he asked.
** About a year. He was gone a good deal
longer, for he went across the plains, and it
took four months. He came back across the
Isthmus."
" I would like to go California," said Grant
thoughtfully.
" You go to California ! A boy like you ! "
repeated Mrs. Bartlett scornfully. ''What
could you do? "
*' I could make more money than I do here,"
answered Grant with spirit.
''I reckon you won't go in a hurry," said
Seth Tarbox composedly. ''You haven't
money enough to get you twenty-five miles,
and I s'pose it's as much as two thousand miles
from Iowa to Calif orny."
Grant felt that there was a good deal of
truth in his step-father's words, but the idea
EODNEY BAETLETT. 19
had found lodgment in his brain, and waa
likely to remain there.
*' I mean to go sometime ! " he said resolutely.
" You'd better start right otf after dinner 1 '^
said Rodney in a sneering tone.
CHAPTER III.
A TEREIELE EESPONSIBILITY.
' /^ RANT, you may go over to tlie other farm
xDT and ask Luke Weldon for the pitchfork
he borrowed of me last week. There's no
knowing how long he would keep it if I didn't
send for it."
" All right, sir."
'* Rodney can walk with you if he wants
to."
" Thank you," said Rodney, shrugging his
shoulders, ^^but I don't care to walk a mile
and a half for a pitchfork. I'll go part way,
though, to the village."
The two boys started out together. Rod-
ney looked askance at his companion's poor
clothes.
'* You're foolish not to take the suit I of-
fered you," he said. ^' Its a good deal better
than yours."
"I presume it is."
30
A TEERIBLE EESPONSIBILITY. 21
" Then why don't you want it ? "
"Because it will prevent your grandfather
buying me a new one."
"Have you asked him ? " ^
" Yes, I asked him this morning."
" What did he say ? "
" That he would buy a new one for himself,
and have his best suit cut down for me."
Rodney laughed.
" You'd look like a fright," he said.
" I think so myself," assented Gfrant with a
smile.
" You'd better take mine than his. Grand-
father isn't much like a dude in dress."
"No; he tells me that I dress as well as
he."
"So you do, nearly. However, it does not
make much difference how an old man like
him dresses."
Eodney rather approved of his grandfather's
scanty outlay on dress, for it would enable
him to leave more money to his mother and
himself.
"Do you know how old grandfather is?"
asked Eodney.
22 DIGGINO FOR GOLD.
ic
I believe lie is sixty-nine."
^* That's pretty old. He won't live many
years longer probably. Then the property
will come to mother and me."
*' Shall yon come to live on the farm ? "
**]^ot much. Mother says she'll sell both
farms, and then we may go to Chicago to
live."
Grant did not like Mr. Tarbox, but he was
rather disgusted to hear his grandson speculate
so coolly about his death.
'* Don't you think grandfather is failing T^
continued Eodney.
*'I don't know that he is," answered Grant
coldly.
*' Mother thinks he's got kidney disease.
Old men are very apt to have that trouble."
*'I never heard him complain of being
sick."
By this time the two boys had reached the
village.
*' I think I'll drop into the drug store," said
Rodney. ^'They keep cigarettes there, don't
they?"
'*I believe so."
A TEREIBLE EESPONSIBILITY. 23
*' Mother don't like me to smoke, but I do it
on the sly. I' 11 give you a cigarette, if you want
one," he said, in an unusual fit of generosity.
'' Thank you, but I don't smoke."
''It's just as well, for you are poor and
couldn't afford to buy cigarettes. Well, I
suppose you've got to go on."
''Yes."
So the two boys parted. Eodney entered
the drug store, and not only bought a package
of cigarettes, but drank a glass of soda water.
It did not occur to him to offer Grant soda
water, for that would have cost a nickel, while
a cigarette was inexpensive.
" Somehow I don't like Rodney," said
Grant to himself as he walked along. "He
seems anxious to have his grandfather die in
order to get hold of the property. I wouldn't
want to feel that way about anybody, though
money would be very acceptable."
Grant walked a mile farther till he reached
the farm. Luke Weldon, who had taken it on
shares, was in the yard.
"Well, Grant, have you come to see me?'*
he asked with a good-natured smile.
24 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
" Yes, Mr. Weldon. Mr. Tarbox wants his
pitchfork, which you borrowed last week."
'' Was the old man afraid he wouldn't get it
back?"
** Perhaps so." "*^
**He doesn't mean to let anybody get the
advantage of him. Well, come to the barn
with me, and I'll give it to you."
Grant followed Luke to the barn, and re-
ceived the borrowed article.
*'It beats all how suspicious Seth Tarbox
is," continued Luke. '* You know I run this
farm on shares. The old man is dreadfully
afraid I shall cheat him in the division of the
crop. He comes over spying round from time
to time. How do you like working for him ? '^
*' l^ot at all," answered Grant bluntly.
*' Does he pay you any wages ? "
*'I work for my board and clothes, but I
don't get any clothes. Look at me."
*'The old man is awful close. I sometimes
ask myself how it is all to end. He stints
himself and his family, and all his money will
go to his daughter Sophia and her boy."
'* They are over there to-day."
A TERRIBLE RESPONSIBILITY. 25
" How do you like the boy ? "
*^ About as much as his grandfather."
"He's a disagreeable young cub, and about
as mean as the old man."
"He offered me a cigarette this morning,"
said Grant smiling.
"Did you accept?"
" No, I do not smoke. He offered me one of
his old suits, too, but it was only to save his
grandfather the expense of buying me a new
one."
"I suppose you accepted that."
" No, I didn't. I will have a new suit or
none at all."
"I like your spirit. I wish I could have
you to work for me."
" I would rather work for you than for Mr.
Tarbox, but there is one thing I would like
better still."
"What is that?"
"To go to California."
"What put that into your head ? "
"Mrs. Bartlett was mentioning that John
.Hey wood had just got back, bringing ten
thousand dollars in gold."
26 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
^' Sho ! You don't say so."
'^ And he bought a farm and is going to put
up a new house."
"Some men are lucky, that's a fact. Ten
thousand dollars, and he's only just turned
thirty. Well, I wish I were in his shoes."
" I mean to go to California some time."
*' But how will you go ? It costs money to
go so far."
''That's true, and I don't know where the
money is coming from, but I mean to get there
all the same."
*'If you had the money Seth Tarbox
wouldn't let you use it for that."
"I'd like to see him stop me !" said Grant,
nodding his head with emphasis.
"Well, I wish you luck. Grant, but I
reckon it'll be a good many years before you
get to California."
Privately Grant was of the same opinion,
but the idea had entered his mind, and was
not likely to be dislodged.
There were two ways of going home, one
through the village, the same way he came,
and the other across the railroad and over the
A TEREIBLE EESPONSIBILITY. 27
fields. This was no shorter, but there was a
variety in it, and Grant decided that he
should take it.
A hundred feet from the place where he
crossed the railroad there was a bridge span-
ning the creek, not wide, but lying some
twenty feet below. The bridge was about
fifty feet long.
As Grrant gave a careless glance at the
structure, which he was not intending to cross,
he saw something that startled him. The
supports of the further end of the bridge had
given way, and it hung, partially fallen, sup-
ported only from the other end. It was clear
that no train could pass over it in its present
condition without being precipitated into the
creek below.
*' Good Heavens," thought Grant, '' there'll
be an accident! I wonder what could have
weakened the bridge."
It was useless speculating about this point.
The danger was imminent, for in less than ten
minutes a train was due.
Grant thought of going to the village and
giving the alarm, but there was no time.
28 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
Before he could return tlie train would have
arrived, if on time, and the accident would
have happened.
^^ What shall I do?" Grant asked himself
in excitement. ''The engineer will have no
warning, and the train will push on at its
usual speed."
A vision of the wrecking of the train and
the death of innocent and unsuspecting pas-
sengers rose before Grant's mind, and he felt
that the catastrophe must be averted if possi-
ble. If only some one would come along with
whom to consult. But he was alone, and on
his young shoulders rested a terrible responsi-
bility.
What could he do i
m
I
CHAPTEE IV.
GEAISTT SAVES THE TEAIIT.
MUST signal to tlie engineer in some way,''
thought Grant. " How shall I do it ? "
He felt in his pocket and f onnd that he had
a white handkerchief of large size. He wore a
soft felt hat. This he took off, spread the
handkerchief over it, and then lifted it in the
air on the tines of the pitchfork. Then he
sought a place where he might attract the
attention of the engineer.
About two hundred feet from the bridge
there was a small eminence on one side of the
railroad. It was just in front of a curve, and
this seemed to Grant the best place to sta-
tion himself. He posted himself there, raised
the pitchfork, and waited anxiously for the
train.
By and by he heard the cars approaching.
His heart was in his mouth.
29
30 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
"Will they see me?'' he asked himself.
'^If not " but he could not bear to think
of the alternative.
As the train drew nearer and nearer he began
to wave the hat vigorously, shouting at the
same time, though he knew that his voice
would be drowned by the thunderous noise of
the train.
Nearer and nearer came the train. Would
it stop ?
All at once his heart was filled with joy, for
the train began to slow up, and stopped just a
little beyond where he was standing.
Grant ran forward till he was abreast with
the engine.
" What's the matter, boy 1 " demanded the
engineer, half inclined to be angry. "If you
are playing a trick on me, I'll give you a good
horse- whipping. "
"It's no trick," answered Grant earnestly.
" The bridge just ahead is broken down."
" Good Heavens ! is this true ? "
" Get out and see for yourself."
The engineer lost no time in following
Grant's advice. He and his young guide
GEANT SAVES THE TEAIN. 31
walked forward, and he saw that Grant's in-
formation was correct.
''It's a narrow escape," he said slowly.
''The train would have been wrecked, and by
this time in all probability I should have been
a dead man."
By this time a number of passengers, curious
to know what had happened, and why the
train had stopped so suddenly, got off the cars
and advanced to where the engineer stood with
Grant at his side.
"What's the matter," asked the first man.
"You can see for yourself," answered the
engineer, pointing to the bridge.
" Good Heavens ! "
" You've been as near death as you probably
ever will be without meeting it."
" And what saved us ? "
"This boy," said the engineer, pointing to
Grant. "But for him, some of us would be
dead men at this moment."
Grant blushed, for all eyes were fixed on him.
" It was lucky I was here and discovered the
broken bridge," he said.
"Gentlemen," said a portly, gray-haired
32 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
man, a clergyman, ^' this boy has under Prov-
idence been the means of saving our lives. He
deserves a reward."
'*So he does! So he does!" exclaimed a
dozen men heartily. 1
"^^ Let me set the example," and the minister
took off his hat and deposited therein a five
dollar bill. '' I am not a rich man — ministers
seldom are — but what I give, I give with all
my heart."
'' Here is another ! " said the engineer. ^' I
am perhaps under deeper obligations than any
one."
''Let me contribute!" said a sweet-faced
old lady, and she dropped another five-dollar
bill into the minister's hat.
Then the passengers generally brought for-
ward their contributions, though some were
able to give but a silver coin. There was one
not- ible exception : One man, when he saw
wM'^. was going forward, quietly shrunk away,
nn^^ got back into the train.
'' Who's that man," asked the engineer
iharply.
" I know," said an Irishman, who out of his
GEANT SAVES THE TEAIN. 33
poverty had given a dollar. " It' s Mr. Leonard
Buckley, of New York. He's worth a million.
He is rich enough to buy ns all up."
'^No matter how much money he possesses,
he is a poor man," said the minister signifi-
cantly.
''He's given all his life is worth to the
world," said a passenger cynically. ''When
he dies he won't be missed."
"And now, my young friend," said the
clergyman to Grant, " let me make over to you
this collection of money as a small acknowl-
edgement from the passengers of this train of
the great service you have rendered us."
While the collection was being taken up.
Grant stood as if dazed. All had passed so
suddenly that he could not realize what it
meant. Now he found a voice to speak.
" I don't think I ought to take it," he said.
" I didn't do it for money."
"Of course you didn't!" said the clergy-
man. "If you had, your act would have
been far less commendable, though it might
have been as effective. I think you need not
hesitate to take the money."
3
34 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
** Take it, take it ! " said more than one.
So Grant took the hat, and held it awkwardly
for a moment, hardly knowing what to do with
the contents till some one suggested, ''Put it
in your own hat ! "
Grant did so, and then the engineer went
forward to examine the bridge more carefully,
and decide what had better be done.
There was no further reason for Grant to re-
main, and he walked a little distance away
and began to count his money. There were
one hundred and forty dollars in bills, and
about twelve dollars in silver.
'' One hundred and fifty- two dollars ! " said
Grant, elated. "Now," and his face bright-
ened up, " now I can go to California ! "
But what should he do with the money?
He felt that it would not be prudent to carry
it home, for his step-father would be sure to
claim it. He might hide it somewhere, but
there was danger that it would be discovered,
and lost. Finally, he decided to carry it to
Luke Weldon, and ask him to keep it for him
for the present. Luke was a poor man, but
he was thoroughly honest. There was no one
GRANT SAVES THE TRAIN. 35
in town wlio would not sooner have trusted
Mm than Seth Tarbox, though Seth had twenty
dollars to his one.
When Grant entered the farm-yard again,
Luke looked up with surprise.
** What brings you back, Grant ?" he asked.
** I want to ask a favor of you, Mr. Weldon."
**I am always ready to do you a favor.
Grant."
*' Will you keep some money for me ? '^
Luke Weldon was surprised. He knew
pretty well how Grant was situated, and that
money must be a scarce article with him.
Perhaps, however, he had a little extra change
which he was afraid of losing, he reflected.
''All right. Grant !" was his reply. 'TU
keep it for you. How much is it T'
When Grant began to draw the bills out of
his pocket, Luke' s eyes opened with amazement.
' ' Where did you get all this money. Grant 1 ' '
he asked. "You haven't been — no, I can't
believe it possible you've been robbing the old
man."
" I should think not," returned Grant indig-
nantly. ''I haven't sunk so low as that."
36 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
**But where did you get it? Why didn't
you ask me to take charge of it when you were
here before V^
'* Because I didn't have it."
'' Have you got it since ? "
''Yes."
''Then you found it somewhere. It must
belong to some one who hid it."
" No, it doesn't. It was given to me."
"I want to believe you, Grant, and I never
knew you to tell a lie, but it aint easy, boy,
it aint easy. If you don't tell me where and
how you got it, I can't agree to keep it for
you. It might be stolen money for aught I
know."
" Then I'll tell you, Luke. When I crossed
the railroad I found the bridge was broken.
I signalled the train just in time to stop it's
going across." -
''Sho! you don't say! Then but for you
the train would have been wrecked ? "
"Yes."
'Tm proud of you, Grant ! Give me your
hand. Why, boy, you've saved fifty lives,
perhaps."
GEANT SAVES THE TEAIiq-. 37
** That's what the engineer said."
*^Biit about the money "
*^ The passengers took up a contribution, and
here it is."
*' How much is there ? "
''As near as I can tell, for I counted it in a
hurry, there's a hundred and fifty-two dollars."
''And you deserve it all, Grant. Yes, I'll
keep it for you, and give it back whenever you
ask for it."
"I was afraid Mr. Tarbox might try to get
it away from me."
" So he would, I make no doubt. He won't
get it from me, I'll tell you that."
"Now I must be getting home. I've been
away a long time."
When Grant approached the farm-house,
Rodney, who was standing in front of the
house, hailed him.
"Say, there's a rod in pickle for you.
Grandfather's awfully mad at your staying so
long."
CHAPTER V.
GEAI^T ORDEES A NEW SUIT.
a RANT listened to what Rodney said, but
Mr. Tarbox's anger did not signify as
much to bim as it would have done a few
hours earlier. The money he possessed made
him feel independent.
Seth Tarbox appeared at the door, ready to
empty the vials of his wrath on Grant's de-
voted head.
'* So you've been loiterin' on the way, have
you ? " he said harshly. ** You've been twice
as long as you need to be."
*' Well, perhaps I have," Grant admitted
coolly.
'' So you own up to it, do you 1 "
*' Of course I do."
*^ And what excuse have you ? "
*^ Do you expect me to work all the time ? "
**I expect you to earn your board and
clothes."
33
GRANT ORDEES A NEW SUIT. 39
'' I earn tliein both, and more too, but I don't
get the clothes."
"Hey? Oh, I see. You loitered because I
wouldn't buy you a suit of clothes," snarled
Seth.
" You can take it that way if you want to,"
said Grant.
"What's got into you, Grant Colburn?
'Pears to me you are mighty independent all
at once."
"That's the way I feel."
"You seem to forget that but for me you
wouldn't have a home."
"When you get tired of providing me with
a home, Mr. Tarbox, I will find one somewhere
else."
" So you think, but if you leave my home
you'll become a poor tramp."
Rodney laughed.
"I guess you're right, grandfather," he
said.
Grant darted a look at him which showed
that he understood the nature of his feelings.
" Well," he said, "I'll take the risk."
"I don't take back the offer of a suit of
40 DIGGIITG FOE GOLD.
clotlies, Grant," said Rodney smoothly. *^ril
bring 'em over tlie next time I come."
*' Yes, do, Rodney," put in his grandfather.
*'You needn't take the trouble, Rodney,"
said Grant. *'I shan't wear the suit if you
bring it."
" I suppose you expect I'll buy you a new
one," sneered Seth Tarbox.
'^ISTo, I don't."
*^ Then you are content to go as you are ? "
*^ ]N"o, I shall have a new suit in a few days,
if I have to pay for it myself."
*'You're welcome to do that," responded
Seth in a tone of satisfaction, for he concluded
that Grant's mother would pay the bill, and
that suited him.
No more was said to Grant on the subject of
his delay in returning from the other farm.
He had occasion a little later to go on an
errand, and called at the village tailor's.
*' Mr. Shick," he said, '^ I want you to make
me up a good serviceable suit. How much
will it cost?"
** It depends on the cloth. Grant. Here is a
remnant that will wear like iron. I can make
GEANT OEDEES A NEW SUIT. 41
it up in two styles, according to tlie trim-
mings, seventeen dollars or twenty."
*'I want a good suit, and will pay twenty.'^
The tailor was rather surprised, for he knew
that Grant's step-father was a thoroughly
mean man.
^'Mr. Tarbox is getting liberal, isn't he?"
he inquired. *' That's more than he pays for
his own suits."
'^ He isn't going to pay for mine."
^' Oh, it's your mother, then."
'''No, I shall pay for it myself."
*' Will it be cash down ? "
'' Yes."
*' I am glad you are so well off, Grrant," said
Mr. Shick, puzzled.
*' So am I. You may rest assured that you
won't have to wait for your money."
**Then I'll do a good job. You shall have
as nice a suit as any boy in the village. You
deserve it, too, Gfrant, for you're a hard-work-
ing boy."
*' Just say that to Mr. Tarbox when you
meet him," said Grant, smiling, "for I am
afraid he doesn't fully appreciate me."
42 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
As Grant left the tailor's shop he met Rod-
ney at the door. Rodney found the farm
rather a slow place, and had made a second
visit to the village.
*' Hallo,'' he exclaimed, "have you been
into the tailor's?"
"Yes."
" I suppose you had business there."
"I had."
"What was it?"
"You can ask Mr. Shick, if you like. Fm
in a hurry."
Rodney decided to act on this suggestion.
"How do you do, Mr. Shick?" he said
politely, for he wanted to get some informa-
tion. " I see Grant has just been in here."
"Yes."
"Are you going to make him a suit ? "
"Yes."
Rodney was surprised.
" Would you mind showing me the cloth ? "
he asked. ' ' I might like to get a suit myself. ' '
" I shall be happy to fill your order. This
is the cloth."
"It looks pretty good."
GRANT ORDERS A NEW SUIT. 43
6i
Yes, it is of excellent quality."
** How much do you charge for a suit off this
cloth?"
" Twenty dollars is what I charged Grant."
It must be explained that Shick, being in
the country, was obliged to put his prices a
good deal lower for the same article than if he
lived in the citv.
'^Well, I hope you'll get your pay," said
B-odney shortly.
'' I shan't trouble myself about that. Grant
is an honest boy."
'' Well, I'm glad you feel so confident."
Eodney left the shop abruptly, and, going
into the street, came face to face with his
grandfather.
*' Grandfather," he said, "I've got some
news for you."
''Have you, Eodney ? What is it ? "
"Grant has ordered a suit of Mr. Shick, for
which the price is twenty dollars."
" You don't mean it ? " ejaculated the farmer.
"Yes, I do, I suppose the bill will be sent
to you," added Rodney, desirous of making
trouble.
44 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
*' I won't pay it!" exclaimed Seth Tarbox
excitedly.
'' You'd better see Mr. SMck about it."
Seth Tarbox entered the shop, looking
flurried.
"Is it true, Mr. Shick," he said abruptly,
*'that Grant has ordered a twenty-dollar suit
of you?"
"Yes, Mr. Tarbox."
"If you expect me to pay for it, you'll be
disappointed. Did Grant tell you to charge it
tome?"
" No ; he said he would pay for it himself."
"I suppose he expects to get the money out
of his mother," continued Mr. Tarbox, feeling
somewhat relieved. "It will be a shame to
make her pay so much. Why, I don't pay
that for my own suits."
" Why don't you ? " asked the tailor bluntly.
"You can afford it."
"I don't believe in throwing away money,"
answered Seth shortly.
"You wouldn't. This suit of Grant's will
wear like iron."
"It's all foolish extravagance. Eodney, my
GEANT OEDEES A NEW SUIT. 45
grandson, offered to give Mm one of his old
cast-off suits."
Mr. Shick smiled.
*' Probably Grant thought he would prefer a
new one."
** But it's wasteful extravagance."
*'Mr. Tarbox, you need a new suit yourself.
You'd better let me make you one. You don't
want your step-son to outshine you."
*^ I'll see about it. I can make the old one
do a little longer."
When Mr. Tarbox got home he at once
tackled his wife.
^'Mrs. T.," he said, ''I'm surprised at your
letting Grant order a twenty- dollar suit. Truly
a fool and his money are soon parted, as the
saying is."
" I don't know what you mean, Mr. Tarbox,
and I'll thank you not to call me a fool," she
added, with a flash of spirit.
"You mean to say you haven't authorized
Grant to order a twenty -dollar suit at Mr.
Shick's?"
" Grant hasn't asked me to buy him a
suit?"
46 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
** Well, he's ordered one, for Mr. Shick told
me so. It aint possible that he's going to
trust that boy. I don't understand it."
'' Nor do I. I will speak to Grant about it."
Mrs. Tarbox felt anxious, for the story
seemed strange and almost incredible. It did
not seem like Grant, but stilt she knew that he
was very anxious to have a new suit. She
would have been willing to advance ten
dollars to buy him a ready-made one, but
twenty dollars in her circumstances would be
extravagant.
Just then Grant entered the room.
''Grant," she said, ''have you ordered a suit
at Mr. Shick' sT'
"Yes, mother."
"At twenty dollars?"
"Yes, mother."
"How could you be so inconsiderate ? Mr.
Tarbox will not pay for it, and I cannot afford
to pay so high a price."
"Don't be worried, mother," said Grant
quietly, '' I shall pay for it my s elf, ^^
CHAPTER YI.
8ETH TAEBOX MAKES A DISCOVERY.
TWO pairs of eyes were fixed upon Grant
in wonderment — those of his mother and
Mr. Tarbox.
** Are you crazy, Grant Colburn?" asked
Mr. Tarbox.
'''Not that I know of, Mr. Tarbox."
*^Do you mean to say you have got twenty
dollars to pay for your suit ? "
*' Yes, I do."
** Show it to me."
** I haven't got the money with me."
** Where is it, then?"
** I decline to tell."
**Do you know, Grant, that I, as your step-
father, and natural guardian, have a right to
make you tell?"
** No, I don't. At any rate, I shan't tell."
''You're getting dreadful contrary lately,
47
48 DIGGII^a FOR GOLD.
Grant. Mrs. T., I think we are going to
have trouble with that boy. Of course Mr.
Shick won't be paid, and he'll send in his bill
to you or me likely. He can't make us pay,
for he has trusted a minor without consultin'
his parents or guardians. I wash my hands of
the matter."
So saying, Mr. Tarbox left the room.
"Grant," said his mother, ''I can't help
feeling anxious. It does seem a crazy idea for
you to order a twenty-dollar suit."
«« Why should it, mother ? "
" When you have no money to pay for it."
"Mother, did you ever know me to tell a
lie?"
"No, Grant."
"Then, when I tell you that I've got money
enough to pay for this suit, and more, too, you
can believe me."
" Was it got honestly. Grant ? "
"Of course it was."
" And the money is really and truly yours ? "
"It is."
"Are you willing to tell me where you got
it«"
SETH TAKBOX MAKES A DISCOVERY. 49
'* jN"ot just yet, motlier. I will before long.''
*' Well, G-rant, I will trust your word," said
Mrs. Tarbox, relieved, ''and I am really glad
of your good fortune."
' ' You won' t worry any more, then, motlier ? ' '
''No, Grant."
"I am glad you haven't] lost confidence in
me."
Grant took an opportunity, after supper, to
go to Luke Weldon's, and draw twenty-five
dollars. On his way back he called at the
tailor's, and paid Mr. Shick for his suit in ad-
vance. The remaining five dollars, in silver,
he kept in his pocket.
"It is so long since I carried any money,"
he said to himself, " that I want to know how
it seems."
Meanwhile Jotham Perry, a neighbor, called
at the farm-house on an errand.
"That's a pretty bad thing, the breaking
down of the railroad bridge, isn't it ? "
"I haven't heard of it," said Seth Tarbox,
pricking up his ears.
" Sho ! I thought everybody knew it."
" How did it happen ? "
4
50 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
** I don't know, except it gave way from old
age. It's long been shaky."
*' When was it found out ? "
*' This afternoon, just before the accommoda-
tion train came along. I tell you it was a nar-
raw escape for the train. They stopped just a
few rods before they got to the bridge."
** What made them stop? How did the en-
gineer come to suspect?"
''It seems a boy came along that way, and
saw the condition of the bridge, and signalled
the train."
''A boy?"
''Yes. He had a pitchfork, and stuck his
hat and a handkerchief on the tines, and so at-
tracted the engineer's attention."
Mr. Tarbox opened his eyes wide, and a sud-
den revelation came to him.
" Why, it must have been Grant," he said.
" Didn't he tell you anything about it ? "
*'No."
*' I heerd the passengers took up a collection
for the boy, whoever he was. He must have
got as much as twenty-five dollars."
That's where Grant's money came from,"
u n
SETH TARBOX MAKES A DISCOVERY. 51
exclaimed Seth Tarbox, slapping his leg vig-
orously. '*He's gone and ordered a twenty-
dollar suit, and been bin tin' mysteriously
that he'd got money enough to pay for
it."
" Yes, I suppose that explains it. Well,
the boy needs a new suit and he's earned it
easy."
"But it's such a foolish way of spendin' his
money. My grandson Rodney offered him a
suit of his for nothin', and he might have
given me the money to keep for him."
'* Yes, he might," said Jotham with a queer
smile, "but I think if I'd been in Grant's
place I'd have done the same thing he did."
Mr. Perry went away directly afterward,
and Seth Tarbox sought his wife.
" Where is Grant, Mrs. T.T '
"He went out to walk after his chores were
done, but he didn't say where he was going."
"I've found out where he got his money,"
said Seth, nodding his head. .
"Where, then? He didn't do anything
wrong, I am sure."
"Well, no, not in gettin' the money, but
52 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
he'd ought to have consulted me before bein'
so extravagant."
'' Where did he get the money ? "
''He found out the bridge was broken, and
signalled the train and saved it from being
wrecked."
Mrs. Tarbox's eyes sparkled with maternal
pride.
It was a noble act," she said.
The passengers took up a contribution,
and Jotham Perry thinks G-rant got about
twenty-five dollars."
"He deserved it."
''Well, I'm glad he got it, but he had no
right to spend it himself. Ther's one thing
that don' t occur to you, Mrs. T. What he did
was done in time, and he lost at least an hour
by the delay it cost. You know yourself how
late he came home."
"What is that, Mr. Tarbox, to the lives
of the passengers and the safety of the
train?"
" You don't understand me, Mrs. T. Under
the circumstances I think I ought to have half
the money he received."
SETH TAEBOX MAKES A DISCOVEEY. 53
''Mr. Tarbox ! " exclaimed liis wife in pro-
found disgust.
''That's so, and of course if I had it he
wouldn't have no twenty dollars to throw
away on a suit of clothes."
" You forget, Mr. Tarbox, that it has saved
you the money you would have to pay for a
new suit for him."
"It has saved me nothing. I wouldn' t have
bought him a new suit. My grandson, Rod-
ney, was goin' to give him one of his old suits.
Now I think of it, I'll go down and see Mr.
Shick and warn him not to make up the suit,
tellin' him that Grant can't pay for it with
my permission."
" That will be a mean thing to do, Seth Tar-
box."
Mrs. Tarbox always called her husband by
his full name when she had occasion to feel
displeased with him.
"You and I don't look on things in the
same way, Mrs. T.," said her husband calmly.
" I'll go and see Mr. Shick at once."
The tailor shop was still open for business
when Mr. Tarbox entered.
54 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
'*Well, Mr. Tarbox, have you come to pick
out a suit for yourself ? "
'^JSTo, I haven't. Have you cut out Grant's
suit yet?"
'^ Yes ; it is nearly finished."
"Then I'm sorry for you. You mustn't
make it up? *'
"Why not?"
"Because I shall forbid the boy to pay
for it. He's got the money, as I've found
out, but part of it belongs to me, and
I won't have him spendin' it so extrava-
gantly."
" I shan't be able to oblige you, Mr. Tarbox.
The suit will be made up, as I agreed, and
delivered to Grant."
" Well, you'll be takin' a risk. I've warned
you that you won't get your pay."
"You are behind the times, Mr. Tarbox.
You have taken your walk for nothing. The
suit is already paid for."
" Whatr'' ejaculated Mr. Tarbox.
" It is just as I said. Grant has paid me for.
the suit in advance. I advise you to give me
an order and do the same thing."
SETH TAEBOX MAKES A DISCOVERY. 55
Mr. Tarbox felt that he had been outwitted.
He persuaded himself that Grant had treated
him meanly. Of course there was no resource.
He was too wise to ask Mr. Shick to refund
the money, for he knew he would not do it.
He found nothing to say, and shuffled out,
looking down in the mouth.
''There goes the meanest man in town!"
soliloquized the tailor, as his visitor walked
slowly down the road. '' Grant must have a
pretty uncomfortable time at home, I am
glad that in this case the boy has got the
better of his steiD-father."
"He's got five dollars left," reflected Mr.
Tarbox. "I'd ought to have that, for it was
in my time that he earned the money. I'll go
upstairs and get it to-night when Grant is
asleep."
Grant went to bed about nine o'clock, for
he was tired out, and he was soon asleep.
Usually he did not wake up at all till morn-
ing, but it so happened that this night he
waked up about eleven, and saw Mr. Tar-
box rummaging in the pocket of his panta-
loons.
56 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
He hardly knew whether to feel amused or
indignant.
*' What are you doing here, Mr. Tarbox ?"
he demanded in a voice which he made pur<
posely loud.
CHAPTER VII.
GEANT MAKES UP HIS MIND.
ME. TAEBOX had not bargained for
Grant's being awake, and he had the
grace to look ashamed, but he put a bold face
on it.
'Tve come for the rest of the money you
got for stoppin' the train," he said.
'^ What right have you to it, Mr. Tarbox,"
said Grant, more amused than surprised. ** It
was given to me."
**Mebbe it was, but you stopped the train
in my time, and Td ought to have half the
money."
^' You can't have it, Mr. Tarbox."
^*I know you've fooled away twenty dollars
on a new suit, when you might have had Rod-
ney's; but you got as much as twenty-five
dollars, so Jotham Perry said."
^'How did he find out?" asked Grant in
artful surprise.
58 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
a
Then you did get twenty-five 'i ''
^^Yes."
'' So I thought. Wellj I want you to give
me the five. You came home an hour late."
"And you charge me five dollars for an
hour ? If you'll pay me at that rate, Mr. Tar-
box, I'll work for you all my life."
"Quit your foolin', Grant Colburn," said
Seth, feeling that logic was against him. " P m
your guardian, and I claim the money. I'll
keep four dollars of it for you."
"The fact is, Mr. Tarbox, I've disposed of
part of the money. I've only got a dollar
left."
This was true, for Grant had given his
mother four dollars, to buy a new print dress.
"What did you do with iti" asked his
step-father, disappointed.
"I gave it to mother."
" You'd ought to have given it to me."
"I don't think so."
' ' Where' s the other dollar ? "
" It's in my vest pocket."
Seth Tarbox thrust his fingers into the
pocket of Grant's vest, and drew out two silver
GKANT MAKES UP HIS MII^D. 59
half-dollars. It was better than nothing, but
he felt disappointed.
*' I'll take this," he said, *'to pay for your
time."
*' You are welcome to it, but don't you think
you could spare me one half-dollar ? " asked
Grant meekly.
'' When you've gone and spent twenty for a
suit ? No, I guess not. You can think your-
self pretty lucky to get as much as you did."
Seth Tarbox took the candle, and went
slowly down stairs. Grant was so much
amused by the way in which he had outwitted
his step-father that he laughed loud enough for
Mr. Tarbox to hear.
''That's a queer boy," said Tarbox to him-
self. " I don't think he's exactly right in his
head. I'd ought to have got more than one
dollar out of all the money the passengers
raised for him ; but still it's something."
When Grant came down stairs to breakfast
the next morning he looked very cheerful, in
spite of losing his money the night before, and
laughed two or three times, without any ap-
parent reason for doing so. Mr. Tarbox had
60 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
suggested to Ms wife tlie propriety of giving up
to him half the money she had received from
Grant, but Mrs. Tarbox, yielding as sh« gen-
erally was, had positively refused. Indeed,
Grant had made her promise to do so.
Grant's new suit was finished in time for him
to wear it on Sunday. He had great satisfac-
tion in entering the village church decently
clothed. Indeed, he felt that he was as well
dressed as any boy in town, and this was for
him a decidedly new sensation.
Grant had one hundred and twenty-seven
dollars left in the hands of Luke Weldon. He
withdrew ten dollars, and bought some shirts
and underclothing. This did not come to the
notice of Mr. Tarbox, who was under the im-
pression that Grant's stock of money was ex-
hausted. Had he known the truth, he would
have moved heaven and earth to get hold of
the balance of Grant's little fortune.
Grant was anxious to see John Heywood,
the returned Calif or nian. He was more than
ever determined to leave the service of his step-
father, and make a bold stroke for a fortune.
All day he thought of the Golden State of the
GRANT MAKES UP HIS MIND. 61
Pacific Coast, and all night lie dreamed of it.
For him it had the greatest fascination. The
idea of wandering across the continent to this
wonderful new land became strengthened, and
he felt that, with the sum he had at command,
he would be able to do it. He spoke of it to
his mother privately, and, though it made her
feel anxious, he succeeded in persuading her
that it would be for the best.
But he could do nothing without seeing John
Heywood, and getting more information. He
thought of going to Crestville, and accord-
ingly, one morning after breakfast, he started
without notifying Mr. Tarbox, and walked the
whole distance — six miles.
Mr. Heywood lived half a mile this side of
the village, and Grant had the luck to find
him at home.
* ' Grood-morning, Grant/' said the young
man. *'What brings you to Crestville so
early?"
**I came to see you, Mr. Heywood."
**you did? Well, I'm glad to see you.
Won't you come into the house ? "
^^"No, ril sit down here," and Grant took a
62 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
seat on a wood horse, while Heywood leaned
against the well curb, and waited for his young
visitor to open his business.
''I hear you have been very lucky in Cali-
fornia, Mr. Heywood."
'' Yes," answered the young man, with com-
placency. ''I brought home ten thousand
dollars. It makes me feel like a rich man.
I'm only twenty-nine, and I didn't look to be
worth that sum before I was sixty-nine. A
clear gain of forty years ! " he added with a
laugh.
''You got it by digging gold, didn't you ?"
''Yes."
"And I suppose there's more gold in Cali-
fornia ? You didn't take it all ? "
" I should say not. There's piles, and piles
of it left."
" Is digging gold very hard work ? Is it too
hard for a boy ? "
"You don't mean to say you're thinkin' of
goin' to California yourself?" said Heywood
quickly.
"Yes, I do."
"Well, you're a good, stout boy. I don't
GEANT MAKES UP HIS MIND. 63
see why you should not succeed. But you'll
have to work hard."
**I am willing to."
*^ What will your folks say ? "
*^ Mother has given her consent. As for Mr.
Tarbox, my step-father, he hasn't got anything
to say about it."
** You are working for him now, aren't you ? "
*' Yes, I'm working for my board and clothes.
The board is fair enough, but he is not willing
to give me any clothes."
"That's a nice suit you have on."
" So it is, but I had to buy it with my own
money. He hasn't spent but ten dollars for
my clothing in a whole year."
**I've heard he was a mean man."
**He thinks everything of a dollar. Mother
made a great mistake in marrying him."
*'Then, under the circumstances, Grant, I
don't know as I blame you. Bat, you know,
it takes money to go to California.' '
*' I know that. How much did it cost you?"
"I went across the plains. By the time I
reached the mines I had spent about ninety
dollars."
64 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
"Ninety dollars!" repeated Grant in a
tone of satisfaction. "But how am I to go,
even if I have the money. I can't start across
the plains alone."
"No, of course not. It's always better to
have a little company. There's a family goin'
from this town in about a week — ^Mr. Cooper's
family. I am sure they will be willing to have
you go with them. Shall I speak to them
about it?"
" Yes, I wish you would."
Much pleased. Grant set out on his long
walk home. He found his step-father furious
at his absence.
"Where have you been, Grant?" he de-
manded.
" Over to Crestville."
"You've taken 'most a day of my time.
It's a shame! I can't afford to take care of
you, and give you victuals and clothes, when
you're playin' truant half the time."
"I don't expect you to, Mr. Tarbox. I
don't want you to lose money by me," said
Grant demurely, "so I've made up my mind
to leave you."
GEANT MAKES UP HIS MIND. 65
"To leave xneT' ejaculated Seth Tarbox,
aghast. *' Where are you goin' ? '*
"I'm going to California ! '*
Seth Tarbox dropped the hoe he had in his
hand, and stared at Grant as though the boy
had taken leave of his senses.
CHAPTEE YIII
ALL IS SETTLED.
*'/^ OIN' to Calif orny !" ejaculated Mr. Tar-
\Dr box in a dazed tone.
*'Yes. I've seen John Hey wood — that's
what I went to Crestville for — and he tells me
there's a chance for a boy to make money out
there."
^'Goin' to walk, I s'pose," said Seth satiri-
cally.
*' I'm going across the plains, if that's what
you mean."
''Where are you goin' to get the money?
It will cost a good deal."
"I have made arrangements about the
money."
" Is John Hey wood goin' to supply you with
funds?"
'' I'd rather not tell," answered Grant mys-
teriously. He was glad that this idea had oc-
66
ALL IS SETTLED. 67
curred to his step-father, as he did not wish
him to know that he had any fnnds of his
own.
*'I don't know as I'll let you go," went on
Seth Tarbox slowly.
**What right have you to stop me?" de-
manded Grant, not very much alarmed.
^'I'm your step-father."
*' Yes ; but you're not my guardian."
**Mind, I don't say I'll stop you," said
Seth, for an idea had occurred to him whereby
he might turn the expedition to his own ad-
vantage. Should Grant bring back a good
sum of money, he meant to get control of it,
and thought he should succeed on account of
the boy's being so young.
^''No, Mr. Tarbox, it wouldn't be any use."
**Does John Hey wood really think you can
make it pay?"
*^ He says there's piles of gold there."
** Piles of gold!" repeated Seth Tarbox, an
expression of greed stealing over his face.
'* Yes, that's what he said."
"I wish I was a young man. I ain't sure
but I'd go myself. But I'm sixty-eight."
68 DIGGIira FOE GOLD.
'' That's a little too old to go.''
'^If yon are prosperous, Grant, take care of
yonr money and bring it all home. We'll be
glad to see you back safe and prosperous,
your mother and me."
*' Thank you, Mr. Tarbox."
This conversation relieved Grant's mind.
Even if Mr. Tarbox were opposed to his going,
he meant to go all the same, but it was
pleasanter to have no trouble in the matter.
The next day he went to Crestville again,
this time to see Jerry Cooper, as everybody
called him, and his son Tom, and ascertain
whether they were willing that he should join
their party.
Mr. Cooper, a weather-beaten man of fifty,
was at work in his yard when Grant came up.
Grant knew him by sight, and bade him good-
morning.
'*Has John Hey wood spoken to you about
me?" he asked.
*' Yes. You're the boy that wants to go to
Calif orny with us."
"Yes, sir."
''You look kind of rugged; I guess you
ALL IS SETTLED. 69
can stand it," said tlie blacksmith, surveying
critically Grant's broad shoulders and athletic
frame.
'*Yes, Mr. Cooper; I'm not a city dude.
I've always been accustomed to hard
work."
^'That's good. There's a good deal of hard
work in goin' across the plains."
''How long do you think it will take to
make the journey ? "
''About four months."
"It will give us a good chance to see the
country "
" That ain't what I'm goin' for. When you
get to be fifty years old you won't care much
about seein' the country. You will be more
practical."
"I shall try to be practical," said Grant,
with a smile.
"It's my belief we shall see more of the
country than we care for. I wish it wasn't so
fur"
" So do I. Some time there may be a rail-
road across the continent."
Mr. Cooper shook his head.
70 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
"I never expect to see that," he said. **It
wouldn't pay. You're a boy, and by the time
you get to be an old man there may be a rail-
road, but I doubt it."
"When do you expect to start, Mr.
Cooper?"
' ' Next Thursday. Can you be ready ? ' '
'^ I could be ready to-morrow if necessary,"
returned Grant promptly. "How much is it
going to cost me, Mr. Cooper?" he added.
"If you will tell me, I can give you the
money in a lump, and you can undertake to
see me through."
"Mebbe that will be a good plan, as I shall
have to lay in more supplies. We'll say
seventy- five dollars ; and it will be well for
you to bring a pair of blankets."
"All right. I will give you the money/uow
if you will give me a paper acknowledging the
receipt, and what it is for."
"Just as you say. Grant."
Grant had brought a hundred dollars with
him, and handed over to Jerry Cooper the
sum he had mentioned, receiving back a
receipt. This he put into his pocket with a
ALL IS SETTLED. 71
sense of satisfaction. He felt that now the
die was cast, and he was really bound for
California ; that he had taken the first step on
the road to fortune.
On his way home he chanced to meet Rod-
ney Bartlett. Eodney was walking with an
affected step and swinging his cane. He had
an idea that he was a striking figure and ex-
cited the admiration of all whom he met.
When his eyes fell on Grant, he started in
genuine surprise.
''How do you happen to be over here,
Grant Colburn ? " he asked.
"I am here on business," answered Grant.
" Oh, come over on an errand for my grand-
father, I suppose."
"No, I came on business of my own."
Rodney arched his eyebrows.
"Oh, so you have business of your own?'*
he said, in a ironical tone. 2
" Yes."
"What is it?"
"I don't think you would feel interested
in it."
"Look here, Grant, I don't believe you
72 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
have any business here at all," said Rodney
rudely.
''It makes little difference to me what you
think," returned Grant briefly.
''I think you are playing truant from the
farm — that you have come over here to get rid
of work. If I were grandfather I wouldn't let
you come. I'd keep you at work."
''You are very kind and considerate, as
usual, Rodney. However, you are mistaken
in one thing."
"What's that?"
"You think I am in the employ of your
grandfather."
" I know you are a farm boy."
"I was, but am so no longer."
"What do you mean? Has grandfather
discharged you ? "
"jN"o, I have discharged myself. I don't
expect to work for your grandfather any
longer."
"What are you going to do? Do you ex-
pect to live without work ? "
"No; I expect to work harder next year
than ever before."
ALL IS SETTLED. 73
"I don't understand yon," said Eodney,
pnzzled. ^' Are you trying to fool me ?"
" No."
" Then what do you mean ? "
^'I start next Thursday for California."
Rodney was surprised.
^* You— don' t^ — mean — it ! " he ejaculated.
** It's true."
** Who are you going with ? "
** With Jerry Cooper's family."
*' But you can't go without money."
*' That's true."
''And you haven't got any."
*' That's a mistake. I have all I need."
" Where did you get it 1 "
''That's my business."
" Who put you up to going? "
" I had j^a talk with John Hey wood. He
told me he thought I would succeed in making
money."
"Oh, I see. I suppose he was fool enough
to lend you the money."
Grant smiled, but did not answer. This con-
firmed Rodney in his belief. He looked at
Grant with envy and dislike. With the amia-
74 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
ble desire to depress him, he said, ''I predict
that you'll come back poorer than you went
away."
" It may be so, but I don't believe it."
When he parted with Grant, Rodney went
around to John Hey wood's house, with the
view of ascertaining whether he had supplied
Grant with the funds necessary for his jour-
ney.
"I think you are foolish, Mr. Hey wood,"
Rodney began, "to lend Grant Colburn money
to go to California."
John Hey wood looked up from his work.
'' Who told you I had supplied him with
money ? " he asked.
" Well, no one."
" Then why do you say I did ?"
*' He must have got the money somewhere,
so I concluded you had let him have it."
''Then' you concluded wrong. He never
asked me to lend him money. If he had "
"Well, if he had?" repeated Rodney
eagerly.
" If he had, I should probably have done it.
Grant Colburn' s a hardworking boy and a
ALL IS SETTLED. 75
good fellow, and I tliink he'll be happier out
in California than on your grandfather's
farm."
'' It'll be a relief to grandfather to have him
go. He's been supporting him for the last two
years."
''Grant has earned his living twice over.
He'll have to work hard in California, but he'll
be paid for it. I shouldn' t be surprised to see
him a rich man some time."
Rodney scowled and walked away. He
thought the prediction ridiculous, and hoped
it would not come true.
CHAPTER IX.
THE LONG JOURNEY BEGINS.
THE day before they were to start Grant
came over and spent the night with Mr.
Cooper and his family. The blacksmith had
been guided by John Hey wood in making his
preparations. Independence, Mo., was at that
time the usual starting-point for overland
emigrants, and it was to this point that the
little party directed their course. Mr. Cooper
started with two horses, but at Independence
he exchanged one of them for a yoke of oxen,
being advised that oxen were upon the whole
more reliable, and less likely to be stolen by
Ihe Indians. Here, too, he laid in a supply of
Hour, bacon, coffee, and sugar, with a quantity
of rice, crackers, and smaller articles, for they
were going through a land where there were no
hotels, and must carry their own provender.
When they had completed their outfit they
76
THE LONG JOUEISTEY BEGINS. 77
set out. A long journey lay before them.
From Independence to tlie gold region was
rather more tlian two thousand miles, and
such were the difficulties of the way that they
only averaged about fifteen miles a day. A
detailed account of the^ trip would only be
wearisome, and I shall confine myself to some
of the salient incidents.
The custom was to make an early start and
stop at intervals, partly for the preparation of
meals and partly to give the patient animals
a chance to rest.
One evening — it was about ten weeks after
the start — they had encamped for the night,
and Mrs. Cooper, assisted by Grant, was pre-
paring supper, a fire having been kin(iled
about fifty feet from the wagon, when steps
were heard, and a singular looking figure
emerged from the underbush. It was a man,
with a long, grizzled beard, clad in a tattered
garb, with an old slouch hat on his head, and
a long, melancholy visage.
**I trust you are well, my friends," he said.
** Do not be alarmed. I mean you no harm.''
Tom Cooper laughed.
78 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
*' We are not alarmed," lie said. *^ That is,
not mucli. Who are you 1 "
''An unhappy wayfarer, who has been
wandering for days, almost famished, through
this wilderness."
'' Do you live about here ? "
'' IN'o ; I am on my way to California."
''Not alone, surely?"
"I started with a party, but we were sur-
prised a week since by a party of Cheyenne
Indians, and I alone escaped destruction."
Mrs. Cooper turned pale.
"Are the Indians so bloodthirsty, then?"
"Some of them, my dear lady, some of
them. They took all our supplies, and I have
been living on what I could pick up. Pardon
my saying so, but I am almost famished."
" Our supper is nearly ready," said Mrs.
Cooper hospitably. "You are welcome to a
portion."
"Ah, how kind you are!" ejaculated the
stranger, clasping his hands. "I shall, in-
deed, be glad to Join you."
"What is your name, sir ? " asked the black-
smith cautiously.
THE LONG JOURNEY BEGINS. 79
** Dionysius Silverthorn."
*' That's a strange name."
'' Yes, but I am not responsible for it. We
do not choose our own names."
^* And where are you from ? "
^' I came from Illinois."
'* Were you in business there ? "
**Yes. Ahem! I was a teacher, but my
health gave way, and when I heard of the rich
discoveries of gold in California, I gathered
up, with difficulty, money enough for the jour-
ney and started ; but, alas ! I did not an-
ticipate the sad disaster that has befallen
me."
Mr. Silverthorn was thin and meager, but
when supper was ready he ate nearly twice as
much as any of the little party.
/' Who is this young man T' he asked, with
a glance at Grant.
^'My name is Grant Colburn."
*' You are the image of a boy I lost," sighed
Dionysius. "He was strong and manly, like
you — a very engaging youth."
"Then he couldn't have looked like you,"
was Tom Cooper' s inward comment.
80 DIGGINa FOE GOLD.
"Did lie die of disease?" asked Mrs.
Cooper.
" Yes ; lie had tlie typhoid fever — my poor,
poor Otto," and Mr. Silverthorn wiped his
eyes with a dirty red silk handkerchief.
*'IIave you a father living, my young
friend?"
*'No, sir."
*'Then it would be a gratification to me if
you would look upon me as a parent."
Grant was quite overwhelmed by this unex-
pected suggestion.
"Thank you, sir," he said ; " but you are a
stranger, and I have a step-father living."
He said this on the impulse of the moment,
as a reason for not acceding to Mr. Silver-
thorn's request, but it occurred to him that it
would be about as difficult to regard Mr. Tar-
box with filial feelings as the newcomer.
"Ah, he is indeed fortunate!" sighed Mr.
Silverthorn. He had a habit of sighing.
"My friend" — here he addressed himself to
the blacksmith — " do you ever smoke ? "
" Yes, when I get the chance."
" And have you, perchance, a cigar ?"
THE LONG- JOUENEY BEGINS. 81
" No ; a cigar is too Mgh-toned for me. I
have a pipe."
^^ That will do."
'^ But I have no tobacco."
*'Ah!" Here there was another long-
drawn sigh.
After supper they sat down around the
fire, to rest and chat for a while before retir-
ing.
"I suppose, my friends," continued Dio-
nysius, ' ' you would be surprised if I should tell
you that I was once wealthy."
''You don't look like it now," said Tom
Cooper bluntly.
*' No ; indeed I don't. Yet six years ago I
was worth fifty thousand dollars."
" I shall be glad if I am worth as much six
years hence."
*'How did you lose it 1" asked Jerry
Cooper.
''Through the knavery of wicked men. I
was so honest myself that I supposed all with
whom I had dealings were equally honorable^
and I was deceived. But I am happy to think
that when I was rich I contributed to every
6
83 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
good work. I gave a thousand dollars to tlie
church in my town. I gave five thousand
dollars as a fund for a town library. All men
spoke well of me, but when I lost my fortune
all turned the cold shoulder, and I found I
had no friends. It is the way of the world."
''If you were a teacher I don't see where
you got so much money," remarked Grant
curiously.
"I didn't make it by teaching, my young
friend. An old uncle died and left me his
money. He had been a miser, and never took
any notice of me, so it was a great surprise to
me when his will was read and I was consti-
tuted his sole heir."
''I wish an old uncle would die and leave
me fifty thousand dollars," said Tom.
'' Such may be your luck."
' ' IN'ot much chance of that. I haven' t got
but one uncle living, and he's as poor as Job
after he lost all his flocks and herds."
''I don't complain of my unhappy condi-
tion," said Dionysius meekly. "I have been
rich and now I am poor, but I am resigned to
the Lord's will."
THE LONG JOUENEY BEGINS. 83
**He seems to be a very good man," whis-
pered Mrs. Cooper to Tom.
Tom shrugged his shoulders.
*^ I don't take much stock in him," he whis-
pered back.
*^ How did you happen to escape when the
rest of your party were destroyed by the
Indians ? " asked the blacksmith.
' ' The attack was made in the night. I had
been unable to sleep, and I got up and went
for a walk in the woods, hoping to become
fatigued and drowsy. I was absent for an
hour and a half, as well as I can estimate.
When I returned to the camp, what was my dis-
may when I saw that my friends had been sur-
prised, their goods confiscated, and a scene of
violence enacted."
''Were all killed?"
'' I don't know, but on the ground, by the
dismantled tent, I saw a human arm which had
been lopped from the shoulder."
''Do you know whose it was? " asked Tom.
" Yes, it was the arm of a young man about
your age, who doubtless had excited the anger
of the Indians by resistance."
84 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
Mr. Silverthorn put Ms red handkercMef to
Ms eyes and sobbed, or appeared to do so, con-
vulsively.
" Excuse these tears," lie said. ** They are
a tribute to my murdered friends."
"Did you follow the Indians ? Did you try
to find out where they had carried your com-
panions?"
'' No. It would have been no good. I was
single-handed."
''I would have done it!" said Tom reso-
lutely.
"I would expect it of you, for you are a
brave young man."
" How do you know I am 1 "
"By your looks and manner. I am not.
You may despise me, but I am obliged to con-
fess that I am chicken-hearted. I am afraid I
am a coward. It is not a pleasant confession,
but I do not wish to reiDresent myself other
than lam."
"Then I am afraid that you are not the
right kind of a man to cross the plains to Cali-
fornia."
"lam not sure but you are right. I some-
THE LONG JOUENEY BEOINS. S5
times think so myself. But I hoped to retrieve
my fortunes, and in my state of health there
seemed no other way open to me."
**You haven't had much encouragement
yetr'
^* No, but I feel that I am fortunate in meet-
ing with your friendly party. And this em-
boldens me to make a request."
" What is it ? " asked the blacksmith.
*'Will you let me travel with you? lam
alone, quite alone. It would make me happy
to be with you. The sight of that boy, who
reminds me of my lost son, would be a daily
source of happiness to me."
Mr. Cooper hesitated, and the expression of
his face showed that the proposal was distaste-
ful to him.
*'You can stay with us to-night," he an-
swered briefly. ''I cannot promise more."
CHAPTEE X.
ME. SILVERTHORN's TREACHERY.
THE little party generally lay down to
sleep soon after eight. The days were
always fatiguing, and they were in the habit of
rising early.
The weather was warm, for it was toward the
end of June, and they did not even raise the
tent, but lay down on the ground with a blan-
ket underneath and above them. Mrs. Cooper
generally slept in the wagon.
''We have an extra pair of blankets, Mr.
Silverthorn," said Mrs. Cooper. " We cannot
offer you a bed ; you will fare as well as my
husband and the boys."
" How kind you are ! " murmured Dionysius.
*' To me this simple provision will be a luxury.
For a week I have slept on the bare ground
without a blanket."
"You need not go to bed as early as the
rest of us, unless you like."
''My dear lady, if you don't object, I will
MR. SILVERTHOEN's TREACHERY. 87
retire into tlie woods for an liour and indulge
in religious meditation. I wish to express my
thanks to Providence for my happy encounter
with your kind party."
''There is no objection, lam sure, Mr. Sil-
verthorn," said Mrs. Cooper. " What a good
man he is ! " she said to herself.
" That man makes me sick," remarked Tom,
aside to Grant.
" I think he is a humbug," whispered Grant.
"lam sure he is."
The little party stretched themselves on the
ground, and Dionysius Silverthorn walked pen-
sively into the woods.
When he returned, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper and
Tom were asleep.
The pair of blankets assigned to the stranger
lay ready for use. He did not immediately lie
down, but thoughtfully surveyed the sleepers.
"They seem fast asleep, but perhaps it will
be better to wait awhile," he murmured
thoughtfully to himself. " It will not do
for me to get caught. That young man, Tom,
is very muscular, and the old man is strong
in spite of his years. I will lie down awhile."
88 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
It was well for Mm that lie decided thus, for
Grant awoke — a thing unusual for him — and,
looking around, saw their visitor.
'* Haven't you gone to bed yet, Mr. Silver-
thorn?" he asked.
*' No, my young friend ; I have been into the
woods, engaged in meditation and thanksgiv-
ing, but now I feel weary and I think I shall
soon be lulled to rest. Do you often wake
during the night ? "
'' 'No ; it is unusual for me to wake at all.''
^' That is well. Boys like you should sleep
soundly. I would I were a boy again ! Good-
night, my dear young friend."
^'Good-night!"
Grant was soon asleep. An hour later Mr.
Silverthorn, who had been lying quietly, lifted
his head gently, and throwing oS his blanket,
rose to his feet.
He walked up to where Grant lay asleep.
''I wonder whether the boy has any money
in his pocket ? " he thought.
He went up softly to where Grant lay, and,
kneeling down, quietly detached the blanket,
so that Grant would be uncovered. Then he
ME. silverthoen's teeacheey. 89
inserted his hand into his pocket, and drew out
some silver change, about two dollars in all.
He looked at it vjith disappointment.
'*Is that air he has?" he muttered. ^*It
won't pay me for my trouble."
He was about to search his other pocket, but
Grant stirred in his sleep, and, fearing he
would awake, Dionysius rose hastily.
"I would try the others," he said, '' but I
don't dare to. If they should wake, they
might murder me, particularly the young man.
Now I will lie down again, and get up about
four o'clock. I must have a little rest."
Dionysius Silverthorn was one of those men
who can rouse themselves at any hour they fix
upon. It didn't vary much from four o'clock
in the morning when he rose and rubbed his
eyes. It was already growing light in the east,
and there was promise of a fine day.
**I feel quite refreshed," he said, stretching
himself. ^' It is time I took my departure. Is
there nothing else I can take ? "
Some remains of the supper of the previous
night had been left near the wagon, including
a box of crackers.
90 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
''I will pocket a few crackers, "said Dio-
nysius, ' ' and keep them for luncli. I will take
the liberty of breakfasting before I go. Shall
I take the blankets?" he said thoughtfully.
*']^o, they would be in my way. I wish I had
a little more money — but it would be danger-
ous to seek for it. I will, however, take the
liberty of borrowing the horse, as he will
materially assist me in my journey."
The horse had been tied to a tree. Mr. Sil-
verthorn gently unfastened the rope and led
him away. He was nervously anxious lest he
should whinny or make some noise that would
arouse the little party. But the horse seemed
unusually docile, and, though he was probably
sorry to be roused from sleep quite so early,
allowed himself to be led away without any
manifestation of discontent.
An hour later Tom Cooper stretched himself
and opened his eyes.
''Another fine day!" he said to himself.
^' Well, we must make the most of it. It is
high time we began to make preparations to
start. Hello, Grant ! " he said, shaking the boy
till he murmured drowsily, ' ' What is it, Tom ? ' '
MR. SILVEETHOEN's TREACHERY. 91
*' Time to get up, Grant, my boy. We must
be on our way by six."
Grant jumped up, and, throwing off the
blankets, began to fold them up.
^'Where's Mr. Silverthorn ? " he asked,
turning his eyes in the direction of the stran-
ger's bed.
" There's his blankets !" said Tom. ''Per-
haps he has gone to the woods to meditate,"
he added, with a laugh. ''I shan't be sorry,
for one, if he doesn't come back."
" Nor I," assented Grant.
"It's my belief that he's a rascal ! "
*' Whether he is or not, /don't like him."
"You forget. Grant, that you are the image
of his lost boy," said Tom, with a laugh.
" I hope not. I shouldn't like to look like
any one belonging to him. Do you believe
his story about the Indians attacking his
party?"
" It may be true, though I think the man
is capable of lying. Well, I must wake up
father."
The blacksmith was soon roused.
" A fine day ! " he said cheerily. " We are
93 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
in luck. Where is the horse?" he asked ab-
ruptly, the next instant.
Startled by the question, Tom and Grant
turned their eyes in the direction of the tree
to which old Dobbin had been tethered.
''Sure enough, where is he?" ejaculated
Tom.
" Wasn't he securely tied ? "
''Yes," answered Grant. "I tied him my-
self. He couldn't have got away without
hands."
"I tell you what, Grant," said Tom Cooper
suddenly, " that scoundrel's stolen him ! "
" What scoundrel ? Whom do you mean ? "
demanded the father.
' ' That tramp — Silverthorn. ' '
" Why, he's gone, too ! "
" Yes, and has stolen Dobbin to help him on
his way. I'd like to get hold of the rascal ! "
And stern resolution glittered in the eyes of
the young man.
' ' But I don' t und er stand it. "
"It's easy enough to understand. The
man's a humbug. All his story was made up
to impose upon us."
ME. silveethoen's teeacheet. 93
**Then you don't believe Ms party was at-
tacked by Indians 1 "
** No, I don't ; bnt if I catcli Mm he'll tMnk
lie bas been attacked by Indians."
'' It will be a serious loss to ns, Tom," said
the blacksmith, with a troubled face.
*' We'll get him back if we can, father. I
wonder if the fellow has stolen anything
else."
Grant thrust his hand into his pocket and
made a discovery.
**rve lost about two dollars in silver" he
said.
*'It may have slipped out of your pocket
during the night."
Grant examined the ground on which he
had been lying, and shook the blankets ;
but not one of the missing silver coins was
found.
''No," he said. ''The silver must have
been taken from my pocket. No ; I had
some bills in my right-hand pocket. I was
lying on my right side, so he could not get
at it without the risk of waking me up. Have
you lost anything, Tom T'
94 DIGGING FOB GOLD.
Tom had been examining his pockets.
"No," he said grimly. ' ' The fellow didn' t
dare to tackle me, I reckon. If I had caught
him at it I would have strangled him. Father,
how is it with you ? "
'' I am all right, Tom."
'^Then he didn't get much outside of the
horse. But that's a serious enough loss.
Poor Dobbin!"
''If I only knew which way he went," said
Tom slowly.
But this was not clear. There was nothing
to do but to get ready for the day's march,
and set out. The loss of Dobbin made it
necessary that all should walk except Mrs.
Cooper, who sat in the wagon.
They had been about three hours on the
way when a tramping sound was heard, and
Dobbin came running up to the party, whinny-
ing with joy.
''There's nothing amiss with him," said
Tom joyfully. "I wonder how he got away
from the man that stole him. Are you glad
to get back, old fellow 1 "
MR. SILVERTHOEN's TREACHERY. 95
There could be no donbt on that point, for
the horse seemed content and happy.
" Where's old Silverthorn, I wonder ? " said
Tom.
The question was soon to be answered.
CHAPTER XI.
AN INDIAN ENCOUNTER.
THE country through which the Cooper
party were now travelling was partially
wooded. Soon, however, they would reach the
long and barren stretch of country — the great
salt plain — which was the dread of all overland
parties. Then there would be no woods till
they approached the borders of the Golden
State.
About the middle of the afternoon, while the
oxen were plodding along at the rate of barely
two miles an hour, they received a surprise.
Tom Cooper, whose eyes were the sharpest,
called out suddenly :
''Look there!"
Grant looked, but had to approach nearer
before he could realize the situation. Then he
saw a white man tied to a slender tree, while
half a dozen Indians were dancing round him,
96
AN INDIAN ENCOUNTER. 97
Tittering a series of guttural cries, whicli ap-
peared to fill the captive with intense dread.
It was too far to distinguish the features of
the prisoner, but when they came nearer Tom
cried out, '' Dang me, if it aint Silverthorn! '*
It was indeed Dionysius Silverthorn, and his
plight was certainly a serious one.
*' What shall we do ? " asked Grant.
'' We must rescue him," answered Tom.
''He's a mean rascal, and he's repaid our hos-
pitality by robbing us ; but we can' t let him be
killed by those redskins."
"I'l 1 with you ! " said Grant.
By this time the Indians had caught sight of
the approaching party. They ceased dancing
and appeared to be conferring together.
When Silverthorn saw that some of his own
color were at hand he uttered a loud cry, and
would have stretched out his hands if they had
not been fettered.
''Help me ! help me ! " he cried. "Save me
from these fiends ! ' '
The Indians — six in number — seeing that
there were but three in the approaching party,
took courage and decided to maintain their
7
98 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
ground. They uttered a yell and fired a volley
of arrows, one of wMcli whizzed by Grant's
ear.
Tom Cooper gritted his teeth.
*' We'll teach them a lesson," he said.
He raised his rifle, and, aiming at the fore-
most Indian, fired deliberately. The redskin
fell, pierced to the heart.
This appeared to strike his companions with
dismay. They seemed panic-stricken, as well
they might be, for the bows and arrows with
which they were armed were no match for the
rifles of the little party opposed to them. One
of them raised his arm and uttered a few
words; these were of course unintelligible
to Grant and his companions, but their sense
became apparent when he pointed to the
dead Indian, and, with one of his companions,
lifted him from the ground and began to beat
a retreat.
*'They won't trouble us any more. Grant,"
said Tom. *'They are going away. But we
had better keep on the watch, for they are a
crafty race, and may meditate some treach-
ery."
AN IISTDIAN ENCOUNTEE. 99
When they were beyond bowshot, Tom led
the way to the spot where Mr. Silver thorn was
eagerly awaiting deliverance from his uncom-
fortable position.
" Well," said Tom, taking a position where
he had a good view of the captive, '* what have
yon got to say for yonrself ? "
*'0h, please release me, Mr. Tom!" said
Dionysius, in a pleading tone.
" Why should I? What claim have you on
me?"
*' The claim of humanity. You've no idea
what I have suffered in the last hour."
*' First, I want you to explain why you
stole my horse."
^'You've got him back," said Silverthorn,
who could see old Dobbin browsing beside the
wagon.
*' Yes ; but no thanks to you."
*' Indeed, I only meant to borrow him for a
while."
^'And you borrowed Grant's money in the
same way, I suppose."
^'Put yourself in my place, Mr. Tom. I
was penniless and destitute. How could I
100 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
make my way alone through this wilder-
ness?"
"So you robbed your benefactors! I take
no stock in your story that you only meant to
borrow the horse. IS'ow own up, make a clean
breast of it, and it will be the better for you."
''I meant some time to pay you for him;
indeed I did. I knew that if I got to the
mines I would soon be in a position to pay all
my debts, and I should have regarded that as
a debt of honor."
*' The less you say about honor the better, it
strikes me, Mr. Silverthorn."
''Please release me! I have been in this
unhappy confinement for more than an hour."
Tom approached the tree and, drawing out
a formidable looking jack-knife, sundered the
cords that bound the captive, and he stepped
forth, stretching himself with a sigh of relief.
"Permit me to express my thanks, my
friend and benefactor ! " he cried, sinking on
his knees and grasping Tom's hand, which he
pressed to his lips.
Tom pulled it away with a look of disgust.
"I have no confidence in you," he said.
"^
AN INDIAN ENCOUNTER. 101
^^I know how you treat your friends and
benefactors."
*' I have indeed done wrong," said Dionysius.
*' I am a weak, fallible man, but I never will
wrong you again."
''I don't think you will, for I shall not give
you a chance. N'ow tell me the truth about
the horse. How did he escape from you?"
" I got off his back a moment, and he imme-
diately turned and galloped away."
*' You pursued him, of course ?"
"A little way," answered Mr. Silverthorn,
coughing apologetically ; " but I soon gave it
up. ' I said to myself, ' He will seek his owner,
and I shall be saved from committing a sin.' "
Tom Cooper laughed.
*'You were resigned because you had to
be," he said. ''Now, about Grant's money!
Have you got it ? "
^' No ; the Indians robbed me of it."
*' When did you meet the Indians ? "
"It may have been two hours ago. I have
no watch, and can only estimate the time."
" Did they attack you «"
They ran up and seized me. I stood still,
a
/-
102 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
for I knew that if I ran they would pierce me
with an arrow."
''Well?"
"When they canght me they searched my
pockets and took the silver. Then I was glad
that I had taken no more."
"That is, you would rather Grant would
keep his money than have the Indians get it."
"Yes, Mr. Tom," answered Silverthorn
meekly. "It went to my heart to rob the
boy, for he looked so much like my lost son.
Forgive these tears!" and he drew out the
red silk handkerchief, which the Indians had
evidently not thought it worth while to take,
and wiped his eyes.
"That man disgusts me. Grant," said Tom.
"He seems to have quite an affection for
you."
"It is all on his side," returned Grant. " I
don't believe he ever had a boy."
"Well, perhaps not. He seems a natural
born liar. But it's time we were pushing on.
We have a long distance still before us."
The wagon was put in motion, and the little
procession started. Mr. Cooper drove the
AIS" INDIAN ENCOUNTEPv. 103
oxen, Mrs. Cooper sat inside the wagon, Tom
led the horse, and Grant walked alongside.
Sometimes Tom took his turn in driving the
oxen, and sometimes Grant led the horse.
Dionysius Silverthorn started also, walking
beside Grant.
Tom turned upon him.
* ' Where are you going ? " he asked.
'' I will walk along with you, if you will let
me, Mr. Tom."
''I think youVe got more cheek than any
man I know. After the trick you played
upon us, you expect us to tolerate your pres-
ence."
*' Please let me accompany you, Mr. Tom.
I might meet the Indians again."
'^ Then go in a different direction. You
cannot go with us."
Mr. Silverthorn produced his red handker-
chief, and rubbed his eyes again.
*^ It is a hard, cold world ! " he said. *^ I am
a very unfortunate man."
*' Perhaps you are; but I don't think you
deserve to be very fortunate. Just make up
your mind that you are not going to travel
104 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
with US. . Had you behaved honorably, and
dot repaid kindness by theft, we would have
allowed you to remain with us for a time ; but
now it is impossible."
'^I shall starve, and be found a wretched
corpse by the wayside," moaned Dionysias.
*'Let him have some provisions, Tom," said
Mrs. Cooper, who was naturally compassion-
ate. She had given up the idea that he was a
truly good man, but she was not willing that
he should be left quite unprovided for.
*' I will do that," said Tom.
He made up a small parcel of provisions, and
handed them to Dionysius Silverthorn, who
sat down on a stump, while the little caravan
pushed on.
'^ That's the strangest sort of man I ever en-
countered," said Tom. ^^I wonder whether
we'll ever see him again."
CHAPTER XIL
IN DIEE DISTRESS.
SOME days later tlie party reached the great
salt plains dreaded by all overland travel-
lers. The sight of the vast, white prairies, ut-
terly destitute of vegetation, vs^ith no plant or
shrub visible, and no evidence that any had
ever existed, was depressing enough.
** If we should get out of provisions or water
here, Heaven help us ! " said Tom apprehen-
sively.
" How far will we have to go before we reach
the borders of the plain ? " asked Grant.
''I don't know, but I have heard that it is
very extensive."
'' How are we off for provisions ? "
' ' That is what makes me anxious. Our sup-
ply is quite scanty."
*^And there is no chance to replenish it
here?"
Tom shook his head.
105
106 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
"DonH tell mother," lie said. ''It would
make her worry. It will be time for her to
learn it if worse comes to worst."
On the sixth day they were startled by a
sight calculated to increase their fears.
It was a stranded wagon, with three gaunt,
emaciated bodies stretched near it, all of them
quite dead. There were two men and a woman.
" Thoy must have died of hunger, or thirst,
or both," whispered Tom.
*' What can have happened to them ? " asked
Mrs. Cooper compassionately.
" Perhaps they were weak, and unable to go
farther," said Tom evasively.
"It seems terrible that they should be ex-
posed to the elements. Suppose some wild
beasts should come and mangle their bodies."
" Wild beasts are too sensible to be found in
this region," said Tom.
' ' Why ? ' ' asked his mother.
" Because," answered Tom, hesitating, " the
country is so barren and unattractive."
" You seem to think wild animals appreci-
ate fine scenery, like human beings."
" Well, yes, in a measure," and Tom nodded
IN DIKE DISTRESS. 107
significantly at Grant, as if fco caution him
against saying anything that would reveal to
his mother his real meaning.
^'Tom," said his father, *' don't you think
we had better bury these unfortunate persons ? "
'' Yes, father. I will help you do it."
*' And I," added Grant.
'* First, however, let us see if we can find
any letters or documents disclosing their iden-
tity. We ought to let their friends know what
has become of them."
In the pocket of one of the men Tom found
letters showing that it was a party from Taun-
ton, in Massachusetts. One of the men had a
silver watch, and upon another was found a
small sum of money.
* ' I will take charge of the watch and money,"
said Mr. Cooper, ''and when we reach any
point where it is possible, I will send them on
to their friends in Taunton, for that appears to
have been their home."
''What about the wagon, father ? "
" We must leave it. We have all we can do
in transporting our own."
A grave was dug, and the three bodies were
108 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
deposited therein. Tom looked sober, for he
couldn't help asking himself, *' Suppose this
should be our fate ! ''
He quietly examined the wagon to see if he
could find any provisions, but there was nrt a
scrap, or crust to be found.
"It was as I thought," he whispered £o
Grant. ' ^ The poor wretches died of starvation."
A week later the same problem confronted
them.
" Grant," said Tom, ^' I have been examining
our food supply, and find that we have only
enough to last us two days."
Grant looked startled.
'* And then ? " he asked.
'* I don't know. Unless we get a fresh sup-
ply we must die, like those poor people whom
we buried a week since."
" Shall you tell your mother ? "
''I must. She is entitled to know, for she
is in danger like ourselves."
Mrs. Cooper turned pale, but seemed calm
and composed when told of the state of affairs.
*^ We must make our provisions last as long
as possible," she said.
IN DIRE DISTRESS. 109
^* But how?"
** We must be placed on allowance."
** Half rations?"
*^ Yes. That will give us some additional
time. We must make our two days' supply
last over four days, and who knows what may
happen in four days ? "
** That is a sensible suggestion, mother, but
let it only extend to Grant, father and myself.
I don't want you to be stinted."
** What do you think of me, Tom ? Do you
suppose I would consent to fare better than
my husband and son, and this boy, who seems
like one of us ? No, Tom, you should judge
your mother better."
"You have shut me up, mother. I can't
say anything in answer to that."
" I will show you that a woman has as much
fortitude as a man. Besides, I do not have to
work as hard as you. I can bear the depriva-
tion better."
The days following were days of intense
anxiety. Every morning, when they set out
on their daily march, there was a prayer in the
heart of each that something would happen
110 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
before the sun set that would relieve them
from the haunting fear of famine.
But in all these days they met no one, and
.overtook no one. The sun rose hot and fiery,
making the great alkali plain seem still more
arid and cheerless. So far as they could see,
they were the only people in the world ; for,
look as they might, they could see no other
evidence of human habitation. But in the
distance it was a relief to perceive some low
rising hills, and by night time they reached an
oasis, and, what cheered their hearts, a small
stream of water, for they were very nearly out,
and had felt the need of economizing. Now
the oxen, and the horse, as well as themselves,
were allowed to drink ad libitum. The
animals drank with evident gratification, and
looked sensibly cheered and relieved.
"Now, if we could only find some food, I
should be perfectly happy," said Grant.
Only a few crackers were left, but these,
dipped in the water, became palatable. But
the serious question arose; "What would
they do when these were gone?" It was a
question that none of them could answer.
IIT DIEE DISTEESS. - 111
"I have often wondered, Grant," said Tom,
**what it was like to want food. I begin to
understand it now. I remember one day a
poor tramp came to our door, wbo said he had
not tasted food for forty- eight hours. I
looked at him with curiosity. I could not
understand how this could happen to any one.
All my life I had never known what it was to
want food. I even doubted his word ; but
when mother invited him into the kitchen and
set a plate of meat and bread before the poor
fellow, the eagerness with which the famished
wretch ate satisfied me that he had told the
truth. 'Now, Grant, I will make a confession."
*'What is it, Tom? Have you murdered
any one?" asked Grant, with forced hilarity.
*' Not that I remember. My confession is of
a different nature. For four days — during the
whole time that I have been on half rations —
I have felt a perpetual craving for food."
**AndI, too, Tom."
** And now I feel weak and exhausted. It
has been an effort to drag myself along to-day.
The fact is, machinery can't be kept in work-
ing trim without fuel."
112 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
" I realize that, too, Tom."
*'I presume father and mother have felt the
same way, but I haven't dared to ask them.
They say 'misery loves company,' but when
the companions in misery are your own father
and mother, it doesn't apply. Though I have
to suffer myself, I wish they were spared the
same privations that have undermined my
strength."
It will be seen that Tom was better edu-
cated than the majority of young men born
and brought up in the country. He had at-
tended an academy in a neighboring town for a
year, and had for a season taught the district
school at Crestville. Gfrant found him pleas-
ant and instructive company.
That night, when they went to bed, they
were utterly without food. What were to be
their experiences on the morrow they could not
foresee, but there was plenty of room for
grave apprehension.
''Grant, if we can get no food, I have de-
cided what we must do," said Tom, as they
lay down to rest at a short distance from each
other.
IN DIRE DISTRESS. 113
''What is it, Tom? Have you thought of
anything?"
"Yes ; I suppose you know that horseflesh,
though not to be compared with beef, is still
palatable ? "
''Yes."
" It is our last resource. Poor old Dobbin
must die ! " and the young man sighed.
At that moment the old horse whinnied.
" It seems as if he knew what we were talk-
ing about," said Tom.
"That will last us some time," remarked
Grant, with renewed hope.
"Yes ; I suppose the poor old fellow won't
be very tender, but it is the only way he can
serve us now. We can cook up quite a sup-
ply while the meat is fresh, and take it with
us. It will give us a new lease of life, and
something may happen before that supply is
exhausted."
Tom consulted his father and mother, who,
though at first startled, decided that it was
the only thing to be done.
And so poor Dobbin's fate seemed to be
sealed !
8 .
CHAPTEE XIII.
THE SOLITARY CABIN.
WKKN they rose the next morning, all
looked serious. Each felt that the
crisis had come. All eyes were turned upon
poor old Dobbin, who, unconscious of his
danger, was browsing near the camp.
*' Grant," said Tom suddenly, ''let us give
Dobbin a small lease of life."
" Will it do any good, Tom ? "
''I don't know ; but this is what I propose ;
let us each take a rifle and go in different
directions. We may find a deer or antelope
to serve as a substitute for Dobbin, or some-
thing else may turn up."
''Yery well, Tom."
So the two started out.
Chance directed Grant's steps into a
sheltered valley. Coarse grass covered the
ground, which seemed luxurious when com-
114
THE SOLITAEY CABIN. 115
pared with the white alkali plains over which
they had been travelling.
Grant kept on his way, taking pains not to
lose his bearings, for he did not care to stray
from the party, and it was quite possible to
get lost. There was no evidence of human
habitation. So far as appearances wenfc, this
oasis might have come fresh from the creative
hand, and never fallen under the eye of man.
But appearances are deceptive.
Turning a sharp corner. Grant was amazed
to find before him a veritable log cabin. It
was small, only about twelve feet square, and
had evidently at some time been inhabited.
Curious to learn more of this solitary dwell-
ing, Grant entered through the open door.
Again he was surprised to find it comfortably
furnished. On the rough floor was a Turkish
rug. In one corner stood a bedstead, covered
with bedding. There were two chairs and a
settee. In fact, it was better furnished than
Robinson Crusoe's dwelling in his solitary
island.
Grant entered and sat down on a chair.
*'What does it all mean, I wonder?" he
116 DIGGINa FOE GOLD.
asked himself. '' Does anybody live here, or
when did the last tenant give up possession 1
Was it because he could not pay his rent?"
and he laughed at the idea.
As Grant leaned back in his chair and
asked himself these questions, his quick ear
caught the sound of some one approaching.
He looked up, and directly the doorway was
darkened by the entrance of a tall man, who
in turn gazed at Grant in surprise.
'^ Ah ! " he said, after a brief pause, "I was
not expecting a visitor this morning. How
long have you been here ?"
"Not five minutes. Do you live here ? "
''For the present. You, I take it, are
crossing the plains ? "
"Yes.''
' ' Not alone, surely ? "
"No ; my party are perhaps a mile away."
"Then you are on an exploring expedi-
tion?"
"Yes, sir," answered Grant gravely ; ''on a
very serious exploring expedition."
"How is that?"
"We are all out of food. There isn't a
THE SOLITAEY CABIN. 117
crumb left, and starvation stares ns in tlie
face."
*'Ha! Did you expect to find food any-
where about here ? Was this your object ? "
'' I don't know. It was a desperate step to
take. I hav€ a rifle with me. I thought it
possible I might come across a deer that would
tide us over for a few days."
'' How large is your party ? "
'' There are only four of us."
^' All males?"
*' Except one. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper, and
their son Tom, a young man, and myself con-
stitute the party."
'' Whence did you come ? "
''From Iowa."
*' I venture to say you have found what you
did not expect."
'' Yes ; I never dreamed of finding a man or
a human habitation in this out-of-the-way
spot."
" And yet the time may come within twenty-
five years when there may be a village in this
very spot."
''I wish it were here now," sighed Grant.
118 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
** And if there was one, I wish there might be
a restaurant or a baker's shop handy."
^' I can't promise you that, but what is more
important, I can supply you with provisions."
As he spoke, he walked to one corner of the
dwelling and opened a door, which had not
thus far attracted Grant's attention. There
was revealed a small closet. Inside was a
cask, which, as Grant could see, was full of
crackers, another contained flour, and on a
shelf was a large piece of deer meat, which had
been cooked, and appealed powerfully to
Grant's appetite, which for four days had been
growing, and now was clamoring to be satis-
fied.
Grant sighed, and over his face came a look
of longing.
*' Shut the door, quick," he said, '^or I may
be tempted to take what does not belong to
me."
'* My dear boy," said the stranger, and over
his rugged features came a smile that lighted
them up wonderfully; ''it is yours. Help
yourself."
Grant took a cracker and ate it quickly.
THE SOLITARY CABIN. 119
Then he took a knife that lay beside the meat
and cut off a slice, which he likewise disposed
of. Then he remembered himself.
"lam selfish," he said. "I am satisfying
my appetite, while my poor friends are suffer-
ing from hunger."
"Bring them with you. They shall break-
fast with me. Or [stay. I will go with you
and invite them myself."
Grant left the cabin with his new friend.
As he walked by his side he surveyed him
with curiosity and interest. He was a tall
man — six feet two, at the least, and he walked
with a long stride, which he moderated when
he found Grant had trouble to keep up with
him. He was dressed in a gray mixed suit,
and on his head he wore a soft hat. Despite
his appearance and surroundings. Grant was
led to think that he had passed a part of his
life at least in a city.
" I see a question in your face," said the
unknown. "You wonder how it happens
that I am living alone in this wilderness. Is
it not so ? "
" Yes, sir ; I could not help wondering."
120 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
'*I have been liere but a montli. I am one
of an overland party that passed here four
weeks since. In wandering about I found
this cabin, and I asked myself how it would
seem to live here alone — practically out of the
world. I always liked to try experiments, and
notified the party of my intention. Indeed, I
did not care to remain with them, for they
were not at all congenial. They thought me
crazy ; but I insisted, and remained here with
a sufficient supply of provisions to last me
three months."
'' And how have you enjoyed yourself, sir ?"
*' Well, I can't say I have enjoyed myself ;
but I have had plenty of time to meditate.
There have been disappointments in my life,"
he added gravely, "that have embittered my
existence and led to a life of solitude."
"Do you expect to remain the entire three
months ? " asked Grant.
" If I had been asked that question this
morning I should have unhesitatingly an-
swered in the affirmative. Now— I don't know
why it is— perhaps it is the unexpected sight
of a fellow being— I begin to think that I
THE SOLITARY CABIN. 121
sliould enjoy returning to human companion-
ship. You cannot understand, till you have
been wholly alone for a month, how pleasant
it seems to exchange speech with another."
This remark gave Grant a hint.
**Why not join our party?" he said.
" There are but four of us. You would make
the fifth. We are going to the mines, if we
ever get through this wilderness."
'* Tell me something of your companions."
"Mr. Cooper is a blacksmith. He has lived
all his life in Iowa, and is a good man. His
wife is with him, and his son Tom, who is a
fine, manly young fellow of twenty-one or
two."
"Yery well. Now I have been introduced
to them^ tell me about yourself. Are they
relatives of yours ? "
" N^o, they are not related to me."
" But you have relatives, have you not ? " ~
'* I have a mother."
*^Isee, and you wish to make money for
her. Is she solely dependent on you % "'
" No ; she is married again. I have a step-
father."
122 DiaGING FOE GOLD.
''Whom you do not like ?"
'' What makes you think so ? *'
" I read it in your face/'
^'ISlo, I don't like Mr. Tarbox. He is a
mean, penurious farmer, a good deal older than
mother. She married him for a home, but she
made a mistake. She is merely a house-
keeper without wages. She would be better
off by herself, with me to work for her."
" Has she any money at all ? "
''About two hundred dollars. Mr. Tarbox
has tried to get possession of it, but without
success."
"You look well dressed."
" I bought and paid for the suit myself. I
saved a railroad train from destruction, and
the passengers made up a collection of over a
hundred and fifty dollars for me. I bought
this suit, and with the balance of the money I
am paying for my trip to California. "
By this time they had come in sight of the
camp. Tom had already returned, evidently
without luck, and was only waiting for Grant
to appear to sacrifice poor old Dobbin on the
altar of hunger.
CHAPTER Xiy.
THE NEW ACQUAINTAi?TOK.
«
WHEN Grant appeared with the stranger,
Tom and his father looked amazed.
Where could he have picked up an acquaint-
ance in this wilderness was their thought.
''Tom," said Grant quickly, ''you needn't
kill Dobbin."
"Are you ready to take his place ? " asked
Tom. " Food we must have."
"My friends," interposed the stranger, "I
come with your young companion to invite
you to breakfast at my cabin. Perhaps eti-
quette requires that I should tell you who I
am. Permit me to introduce myself as Giles
Crosmont, an Englishman by birth and a
citizen of the world."
"I'm Tom Cooper," responded Tom briefly ;
"and there are my father and mother. As
for your invitation, we'll accept it thankfully.
Do you keep a hotel hereabout? "
123
124 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
*'Well, not exactly," smiled Crosmont;
"but I have a cabin a short distance away, and
am able to offer you some refreshment. Let me
suggest that you follow me at once. Grant
and I will lead the way."
''So you succeeded better than I, Gfrant?"
remarked Tom.
''Yes ; I found Mr. Crosmont' s cabin, and
was wondering if it were occupied, when he
entered and made me welcome."
"Have you lived here long, Mr. Crosmont?"
asked Tom curiously.
" Four weeks only."
"Alone?"
"Yes; I told Grant that it was a whim of
mine to try the experiment of living in utter
solitude."
" How do you like it, as far as you've got ? "
Giles Crosmont laughed. He was amused
by the frank curiosity of his young acquaint-
ance.
"I've got as far as I care to go in this partic-
ular direction. After breakfast I may have a
proposal to make to you."
They reached the cabin, and Crosmont hos-
THE NEW ACQUAINTAKCE. 125
pitably produced his stock of provisions, to
wMch Ms visitors did ample justice.
^^Now for my proposal," said Crosmont.
*' I should like to join your party.''
''You are welcome, sir; but, as Grant has
probably told you, we are all out of pro-
visions."
''I will turn over to you the balance of
mine, and I have more concealed in the woods,
at a little distance."
''Good!" said Tom, in a tone of satisfac-
tion. " We will buy them of you."
"No, you won't. I freely contribute them
as my share of the common expense. I can
help you in another way also. I am a good
shot, and I hope to add a deer or an antelope
to your stock at frequent intervals."
"We shall be glad to have you join us,"
said Mrs. Cooper hospitably. "Our meeting
with you is quite providential."
Giles Crosmont took off his hat and bowed
respectfully to Mrs. Cooper. It was evident
that he was a gentleman by birth and train-
ing.
"It was what I was waiting for," he said;
126 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
<(
an invitation from the lady. I am afraid I
must ask you to help convey the provisions to
the camp.''
*' Grant and I will undertake that," said
Tom, with alacrity.
*'And I will help you," added the black-
smith. *^ We are in luck to find food on such
an easy condition."
In half an hour the providential supply was
stowed in the wagon, and the party, aug-
mented to ^YG, started on its way.
Generally Tom and Grant liad walked to-
gether, but the stranger showed such a pref-
erence for Grant's society that Tom fell back
and joined his father, leaving his friend and
their new acquaintance to journey together.
''So you are going to California to dig for
gold. Grant? " said Crosmont, as he moderated
his pace to adapt Mmself to Grant's shorter
steps.
*' Yes, sir," answered Grant en thusiasticaiUy.
'' I wish I were there now."
''Suppose now that you should be fortunate,
and secure, say, ten thousand dollars ; you
would be happy ? "
THE NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 127
*'0h, yes."
'^ To a boy like you, the possession of money
seems sure to bring happiness."
**In my case, yes. Remember, Mr. Cros-
mont, I have a mother to care for. I should
like to take her from Mr. Tarbox's house,
where she is a slave, and give her a nice home
of her own. That wouldn't take more than
two thousand dollars, and with the balance I
could go into business."
*'Yes, you have your mother to live for,'*
said Crosmont ; and he dropped into a thought-
ful mood.
*'Will you go to the mines also?" asked
Grant, less from curiosity than in order to break
the silence.
'*No — yes; I will go with you for a time;
but the mines have no attraction for me."
*' Don't you care for gold ?"
*' I have enough already."
Then, seeing that Grant's curiosity was ex-
cited, he added : *' I don't mind telling you,
Grant, that I am a rich man, rich beyond my
wants, and I have no temptation to increase my
wealth."
128 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
Grant regarded his companion with the re-
spect that a boy of his age is apt to feel for a
rich man — so rich that he doesn' t care to in-
crease his wealth.
'* I wonder how it would seem to be rich/'
he said thoughtfully.
'^ Perhaps you will have a chance to experi-
ence the feeling some time."
'VI hope so."
**You are young, strong, self-reliant. In
your favored country this will help you to be-
come rich. But after you have acquired wealth,
I doubt if you will find it makes you as happy
as you expect."
'' But," said Grant, " if I am rich I can help
others. That will make me hapx3y."
" True ! " returned the other, as if it were a
new idea. '' This ought to have occurred to me
before. I will remember it."
" Were you always rich, sir ? "
"Yes. I was born to wealth. My father
was a wealthy gentleman living in Devonshire,
England. From my earliest years I was accus-
tomed to all that wealth could buy. I never
knew what poverty meant."
THE NEW ACQTJArN'TANCE. 129
^^I stiould think you wonld wish to live in
England."'
" If I lived there it would be alone."
' ' Then you have no family ! ' '
Giles Crosmont was silent, and a pained ex-
pression showed itself on his face.
" Excuse me if I have shown too much curi-
osity,-' said Grant apologetically.
'•There is no need to apologize, yet your
question called up painful memories. I had a
son — I don't know if he is still alive — who must
now be twenty-five years old. He disappointed
me. I sent him to college, and he plunged into
extravagance. I paid his debts twice. The last
time, in my anger, I declined to do so. He
forged a check on me for a large sum, paid his
debts with part of the proceeds, and then dis-
appeared."
'•' How long ago was that ? '' inquired Grant,
in a sympathetic tone.
'' Four years. For a year I remained at my
home, hoping to hear something from him,
but no tidings came. Then I began to travel,
and am still travellins;. Sometime I mar meet
him, and if I do "
130 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
" Yon will forgive him ? *'
"I will try to reclaim Mm.'*
" I wish my father were living.' '
^* Yon have Tonr mother."
"YeSj I wish I could see her at this mo-
ment."
*' I think yon are a good boy. I wish my
boy had been like yon."
" Thank yon. Mr. Crosmont. I will try to
deserve yonr compliment."
"Grant and the Englishman are getting
pretty thick," said Tom to his mother.
"Yes. Tom. He seems to have taken a
fancy to the boy."
"'Xo wonder. Grant is a good fellow. I
wonder if this ^Ir. Crosmont is rich r* For
Grant had respected the confidence of his
new acquaintance and had not communicated
what he had learned to his companions.
" I hope he is. Then he might do something
for Grant, and the boy deserves it.''
"He'll never get much from old Tarbox, Til
be bound."
Day by day they drew nearer to the land of
gold. The stock of provisions held out wonder-
THE NEW ACQUAINTANCE, 131
fully, for Mr. Crosmont made good his prom-
ise, and more than one deer and antelope fell
before Ms unerring aim, ajid eked out the
supply. At length, after some weeks, they
crossed the mountains and looked upon the
promised land. From this point on there were
settlements, and there was no fear of starra-
tdoa.
CHAPTER XY.
AREIYAL AT SACRAMENTO.
AT length tlie little party reached Sacra-
JTJl mento. This was already a place of
some importance, as it was in the neighbor-
hood of the mining region, and it was here
that mining parties obtained their outfits and
came at intervals to bring their gold dust and
secure supplies. Situated, as it was, on the
Sacramento River, with communication with
San Francisco by water, it was, besides, the
starting-point of numberless lines of stages
bound for the different mines. For a town of
its size the activity seemed almost incredible.
The party went to a hotel, where, for very
indifferent accommodations, they were charged
five dollars a day. To the blacksmith, ac-
customed to village prices, this seemed exor-
bitant.
*' We needn't engage board till night" sug
133
AERIVAL AT SACRAMENTO. 133
gested Tom. '* We'll take our meals at a res-
taurant till then."
They were all hungry, and this suggestion
seemed a good one. Looking about, Tom
found a small, one-story building, on the front
of which was this sign :
METROPOLITAN HOTEL AND RESTAURANT.
*'What do you ask for breakfast?" in-
quired Tom, entering.
'* A dollar a head! "
'' A dollar ! " repeated Mrs. Cooper, in dis-
may.
** Tom," said Mr. Cooper, '' I haven't had a
civilized meal or sat down at a table for months.
iNTo matter what it costs, I'm going to have
breakfast now."
'' All right, father ! I guess I can do my
share of eating."
Grant listened with dismay to the announce-
ment of prices. Of all the money he had
brought with him he had but ten dollars left.
How long would it last ?
^' Grant, are you going to join us?" asked
Tom.
134 DiGGiisra for gold.
**I don't know as I can afford it," answered
Grant anxiously.
*'We can't any of us afford it," returned
Mr. Cooper. " Sit down, boy, and we'll bor-
row trouble afterward."
^'IsTow," said Mr. Cooper, as lie rose from
the table, "I'll take a turn round the town
and see what information I can gain. I'll turn
in the wagon into the yard alongside. Mrs.
Cooper, will you keep your eye on it while the
rest of us go on a tour of inspection ? I don't
think the oxen will be likely to run away,"
he added jocosely.
"All right, father."
I Mr. Cooper, Tom, and Grant set out in dif-
ferent directions.
Grant started on his walk feeling sober, if
not depressed. Here he was, two thousand
miles from his old home, with only nine
dollars in his pocket, and the prices for living
extortionate. How was he to get to the mines ?
Before he could get ready to leave Sacramento
his money would be exhausted. Since he left
home, four months before, Grant hadn't felt
so perplexed and disturbed.
AREIVAL AT SACRAMENTO. 135
He had walked only five minntes, when he
found himself in front of the Sacramento Hotel,
the largest in the place.
Half a. dozen stages were in the street out-
side, each drawn by four horses, and each
bearing the name of some mining camp to
which it proposed to carry passengers. The
drivers were calling lustily for recruits. This
was what G-rant heard — ** All aboard for Hang-
town ! Only four seats left ! Who*s going to
Gold Gulch ? N'ow's your chance ! Get you
through in six hours. Start in fifteen minutes
for Frost's Bar ! Eichest diggings within
fifty miles! "
'*I wonder what they charge," thought
Grant, 'Til ask." He went up to the stage
bound for Weaver Creek, and inquired the fare.
''Carry you through for ten dollars," was
the reply. "Jump aboard. We'll start in
half an hour."
"No," answered Grant slowly. "I shan't
be ready by that time. Besides, I have only
nine dollars."
"I'll take you to Frost's Bar for that," said
the driver of the Frost's Bar stage.
136 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
^'I suppose you will," interposed the
Weaver Creek driver with a sneer. *'Your
regular charge is only seven dollars. You
want to cheat the boy out of two dollars."
This led to an altercation between the rival
drivers, in which some blows were exchanged,
but neither was hurt. Before they had
finished Grant had passed on. He knew that,
with his limited capital, he could not afford to
go to either place and arrive at the mines with-
out a penny.
CHAPTER XYI.
GEANT GETS A JOB.
AN hour later Grant was surprised to come
JLjl. across Tom sawing and splitting wood in
front of a restaurant.
*' What are you doing, Tom ? " he asked, in
surprise.
"Earning some money," answered Tom com-
placently.
"How much will you get for the job?"
asked Grant.
"Three dollars and my dinner. It won't
take me more than three hours to finish up the
job. What do you think of that ? "
"I'd like a job like it. I'm getting alarmed
at the high prices here in Sacramento. I don't
know what I am going to do."
"How much have you got left ?"
"Only nine dollars, and it will cost me that
to get to the nearest mines."
137
138 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
"That's bad ! " said Tom, looking perplexed.
** Perhaps father' 11 lend you some."
Grant shook his head.
"I don't want to borrow of him," he said.
*'He will have all he can do to look out for
himself and your mother."
"I don't know but he will."
*'I guess I'll get along somehow," said
Grant, with assumed cheerfulness.
'' If I can help you, Grant, I will ; but it isn't
like being out on the plains. It didn't cost so
much there for living."
At this point a stout man came to the door
of the restaurant. It was the proprietor.
*' How are you getting on with the wood ? "
he asked Tom.
" Pretty well."
" Whenever you want your dinner you can
stop short and come in."
'' Thank you. I took a late breakfast, and
will finish the job first."
" Who is the boy — your brother ? "
''No ; it's a friend of mine."
*' Do you want a job ? " asked the proprietor,
turning to Grant.
GEANT GETS A JOB. 139
^' Yes, if it's anything I can do."
** One of my waiters has left me and gone to
the mines. The rascal left without notice, and
I am short-handed. Did you ever wait in a
restaurant?"
"K'o, sir."
''!N'ever mind, you'll soon learn. Will you
take the job?"
" How much do you pay ? "
'' Three dollars a day and board."
*'ril take it," said Grant^ promptly.
'' Come right in, then."
Grant followed his new em^^loyer into the
Eldorado restaurant, and received instructions.
It may seem easy enough to wait on guests at
an eating-house, but, like ever^^thing else, an
apprenticeship is needful. Here, however, it
was easier than in a New York or Chicago res-
taurant, as the bill of fare was limited, and
neither the memory nor the hands were taxed
as severely as would have been the case else-
where. Grant was supplied with an apron, and
began work at once. When Tom got through
his job, and came in for dinner it was Grant
who waited upon him.
140 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
Tom smiled.
^'It seems queer to have you waiting upon
me, Grant," lie said. ''How do you like it as
far as you've got ? "
''There's other things I would like better,
Tom, but I think I'm lucky to get this."
''Yes ; yours is a more permanent job than
mine. I'm through."
"Just tell your father and mother where I
am," said Grant. " I hear I'm to sleep in the
restaurant."
"That'll save the expense of a bed. How
long do you think you'll keep at it, Grant? "
"A month, perhaps, if I suit well enough.
By that time I'll have money enough to go to
the mines."
" Then you haven't given that up ? "
"ISTo ; I came out to California to dig gold,
and I shan't be satisfied till I get at it."
When meal hours were over that afternoon
Grant started out for a stroll through the
town. As he was passing the Morning Star
saloon a rough, bearded fellow, already under
the influence of liquor, seized him by the arm.
"Come in, boy, and have a drink," he said.
GEANT GETS A JOB. 141
Grant shrank from him with a repugnance
he conld not conceal.
'' Ko, thank you ! " he answered. '' I don't
drink."
*'But yon've got to drink," hiccoughed his
new acquaintance.
In reply Grant tried to tear himself away,
hut he could not release the strong grip the man
had on his coat-sleeve.
*'Come along, boy; it's no use. Do you
want to insult me ? "
^^No, I don't," said Grant; *'but I never
drink."
'*Are you a temperance sneak? " was the
next question. ** Don't make no difference.
When Bill Turner wants you to drink, you
must drink— or fight. Want to fight ? "
^'No."
*' Then come in."
Against his will Grant was dragged into the
saloon, where half a dozen fellows were leaning
against the bar.
CHAPTEE XYII.
AN UNPLEASANT ADVENTURE,
*'/^OUPLE of wMskeys — straight — for me
V^ and the kid," ordered Grant's com-
panion, as he came to a standstill in front of
the bar.
^' JSTone for me ! " said Grant quickly.
But, all the same, two glasses were set out,
and the bottle placed beside them.
'^ Pour it out ! " said the miner to the bar-
keeper. '' I'm afraid the boy will get away."
The barkeeper, with a smile, followed direc-
tions, and the two glasses were filled.
The miner tossed his off at a single gulp, but
Grant left his standing.
*'Why don't you drink, boy?" demanded
his companion, with an oath.
'' I told you I wouldn't," said Grant angrily.
*' We'll see if you won't," said the miner,
and, seizing the glass, he attempted to pour it
142
ATT UITPLEASAITT ADVENTURE. 143
down Grant's throat, but his arm was un-
steady from the potations he had already in-
dulged in, and the whiskey was spilled, partly
on the floor, and partly on the boy's clothes.
Grant seized this opportunity to dash out of
the saloon, with the miner after him. Fortu-
nately for him. Bill Turner, as he called him-
self, tripped and fell, lying prostrate for a mo-
ment, an interval which Grant improved to so
good purpose that, by the time the miner was
again on his feet, he was well out of harm's
way. *
''I thought the drinking habit was bad
enough at home," thought Grant ; " but no
one ever tried to make me drink before."
And now we will go back and see how it
fared with Mr. Cooper.
Some quarter of a mile from the Metropolitan
Hotel and Restaurant his attention was drawn
to a blacksmith's shop. That was his own line
of business, and he felt a curiosity to interview
his California brother- workman.
Entering, he saw a stout, black-bearded man
in the act of shoeing a horse.
*' Good-morning, friend," he said.
144 DIGGIlS^a FOE GOLD.
^^Good-morning, stranger."
" I thought I'd take a look in, as you are in
my line of business."
'^Is that so?" asked the blacksmith, look-
ing up with interest. ' ' How long since you
arrived ? ' '
" Just got in this morning."
'^ Going to stay in Sacramento ? "
''I am ready for anything that will bring
money. I suppose I shall go to the mines."
" Humph ! Why not buy me out, and carry
on your old business in Sacramento 1 ' '
" Do you want to sell 1 " asked Jerry Cooper,
surprised.
^' Yes ; I want a little change. I might go
to the mines myself. "
"Can't you make money blacksmi thing ? "
asked Cooper cautiously.
" Yes ; that isn't my reason. I haven't seen
anything of the country yet. I bought out
this shop as soon as I reached Sacramento,
and I've been at work steady. I want a
change."
" How well does it pay you ? "
' ' I get big prices. A dollar for a single shoe,
AN UNPLEASANT ADVENTURE. 145
and I have all I can do. Why, how much
money do you think I have made since I took
the shop, a year since ? "
''I can't tell."
^ * ' I' ve laid up three thousand dollars, besides
paying all expenses."
" You don't say so ! " exclaimed the black-
smith, impressed.
"Yes ; I shan't make as much money at the
mines probably, but it'll be a change, and not
so hard work."
'^ Then you want to sell out ? "
"Yes."
"What will you take?"
"A thousand dollars. That buys the shop,
too. It's dirt cheap."
"It may be, but I haven't the money."
"I will take half cash, and a mortgage for
the balance."
"Suppose I bought, is there a house near
by where I can live ? "
" What family have you ? "
"A wife and son ; but I suppose Tom will
want to go to the mines."
"There is a cabin across the street with
10
146 DIGGINO FOE GOLD.
three rooms. It is empty. You can liire it
for fifty dollars a month, likely."
*' Fifty dollars a month for a cabin with
three rooms ! " ejaculated Cooper.
'^Yes; or you can buy it for ^Ye hundred
dollars, I expect."
'* Seems to me prices are pretty steep in
Sacramento."
*' So they are ; but you can get rich faster
than at home, in spite of the high prices."
*' Well, that's a consideration, certainly.
How much time will you give me to consider
your offer ? "
*'Till to-morrow."
^* I'll let you know by that time."
Jerry Cooper w^alked away in a state of ex-
citement. He felt that he w^ould rather stay
in Sacramento and carry on his own old busi-
ness, with w^hich he was thoroughly ac-
quainted, than undertake gold-mining, of
which he knew nothing. He was a man of
fifty, and was not so enterprising as he had
been when half the age.
*'It seems a good chance," he reflected.
*'But how will I get the money ? "
AIT UNPLEASANT ADVENTURE. 147
He had five hundred dollars left, perhaps
more ; but all this would have to be paid
down for the shop, without leaving anything
to provide for his family in the interval be-
fore he got to earning an income.
'*If I only had the money I would take the
shop," he said to himself. ''I wonder if I
could borrow any. I might send home for
some, but it would come too late."
He walked slowly back to the hotel and res-
taurant.
In front of it Mrs. Cooper was waiting for
him.
"I'm glad you've come, father," she said.
"I was afraid you would be gone all day."
" Were you discontented, mother ? "
" Ko ; it isn't that ; but I've had an offer
for the wagon and oxen."
"You have?"
"Yes ; quarter of an hour after you went
away a man came in and inquired of the land-
lord who owned the team. He was referred to
me, and asked me if I wanted to sell. I told
him I didn't know what your plan might be,
but finally he offered me eight hundred
148 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
dollars, or a thousand if Dobbin were thrown
in."
"You should have accepted," exclaimed her
husband excitedly.
" I didn't dare to. I didn't know what you
would say. But he's coming back again,
and — there he is ! "
Fifteen minutes later the bargain was struck
and the money paid, cash down.
" That settles it ! " decided the blacksmith.
^' Mother and I will stay in Sacramento."
CHAPTER XYIII.
A TEUE FEIEl^D.
THE next morning, as Grrant was enjoying
a few minutes ' rest, breakfast being over,
lie was surprised by tlie entrance of Giles
Crosmont. It seemed pleasant to see a famil-
iar face.
^'I am glad to see you, Mr. Crosmont," lie
said warmly. '' Will you have breakfast ? "
' ' No ; I am staying at the hotel and have
already breakfasted. I have come in to see
you."
''I am glad to see you, sir. I was afraid we
would not meet again. How did you know
where to find me ? "
''I met Tom Cooper on the street early this
morning."
^' Tom has gone to the mines."
*' So he told me. That is, he told me he was
to start this morning. You intended to go to
the mines, did you not ? "
149
150 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
*^ Yes, sir.''
*^ Then why didn't yon go ? "
'^I hadn't money enough. " answered Grant
candidly.
''That needn't have prevented your go-
ing."
Grant looked inquiringly at Mr. Crosmont.
''I mean that I would have lent you a hun-
dred dollars. That would have been enough,
wouldn't it?"
' ' It would have been amplOo You are very
kind, Mr. Crosmont."
*' Why shouldn't I be ? T have more money
than I know what to do with."
*' But I might never have been able to repay
you."
*' I would have taken the risk of that. Be-
sides, to be frank, I should have intended the
money as a gift, not a loan."
/'Thank you, sir," said Grant gratefully.
^'I never met such kindness before."
"Do you wish to give up your situation,
and go to the mines at once ? ' '
"No, sir. I enjoy feeling that I am so well
paid for my labor. You see I never earned
A TEUE FRIEIiTD. 151
mucli before ; Mr. Tarbox only gave me my
board."
*^ And how miicli are yon paid for yonr ser-
vices here?"
"Three dollars a day and my board,"
answered Grant proudly.
"That is indeed high pay for a boy of your
age. If you will let me advise you, don't let
it make jou. extravagant. Don't form the
habit of gambling. I notice there are several
gambling saloons here."
"No, sir, I won't. I know nothing about
cards."
" You could soon learn."
" Thank you for your advice, Mr. Crosmont."
"I give it because I feel an interest in you,
Grant. I can' t explain why, for I have met a
good many young persons in my travels, and
never was drawn to any one as I am drawn to
you="
"I am glad to have so good a friend, Mr.
Crosmont," said Grant earnestly.
" And I am glad to have found some one in
whom I can feel an interest. I begin to feel
that there is some object in living.'*
152 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
^*Are yon going to remain in Sacramento,
Mr. Crosmont ?"
*^I^o, I start this afternoon for San Fran-
cisco."
Grant's countenance fell. Just as he had
ascertained how true and reliable a friend Mr.
Crosmont was, he was destined to part with
him.
**Then I shall not see you again," he said
soberly.
*^I hope you will. Grant," returned Mr.
Crosmont, with a friendly smile. ^'Indeed, I
mean that you shall. I don't propose to lose
sight of you. How long do you think you
shall remain in your present employment? "
**One month, and possibly two. I would
like to get a good sum of money together
before I start. I shall need to buy a few
things."
*^ What things?"
"Some underclothing, a new pair of shoes^
and a new suit. The clothes I have on were
pretty well worn out by the trip across the
plains."
"Don't trouble yourself about that. I will
A TRUE FEIEN^D. 153
take your directions on the size, and send you
what you need from San Francisco."
"I can't thank you enough, Mr. Crosmont.
It will save me a good deal of money."
"You will need all the money you can
earn. Now I will give you my address in San
Francisco, and if you have any occasion to
ask help or advice write unhesitatingly. I
shall travel a part of the time, but I shall
always answer your letters as soon as I receive
them."
** Thank you, sir."
** You have no father. Look upon me as a
father or guardian, whichever you please.
This will be my address."
He took a card from his pocket, and wrote
upon it, under his name, " Care of C. D. Yoss-
ler. Jeweler, Market St., San Francisco."
*'Mr. Yossler is an old friend of mine," he
said, "and he will take care of any letters
that come directed in this way. I don't know
where I shall put up, so that it will be best
always to address me, when you write, in his
care."
" Thank you, sir. I will remember."
154 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
'* Yes ; don't lose the card."
Mr. Crosmont left the restaurant, and Grant
did not again see him before his departure.
He felt cheered to think he had found such a
friend. Two thousand miles from home, it
was worth a good deal to think that, if he were
sick or got into trouble he had a friend who
would stand by him, and to whom he could
apply for help or advice.
The next day, in an hour which was given
him during the time when business was slack,
Orant went round to see Mr. Cooper.
He found the blacksmith busy in his shop.
He had bought the little cabin o^^posite, and
his family had already moved in.
" It didn't take me long to get established,
Orant," he said with a well- satisfied smile.
'* No, sir. I was quite taken by surprise to
hear it."
"I did a good thing in coming to California.
I am convinced of that. Why, Grant, how
much do you think I took in for work yester-
day?"
"Ten dollars," suggested Grant.
"Better than that — seventeen! Why, at
A TRUE FRIEND. 155
this rate, I shall be able to bny back my old
place in a year out of my savings."
'^ I am glad to hear of your good luck, Mr.
Cooper."
" You have got employment, too, Grant ? "
'*Yes, sir."
** How much are you paid ? "
'' My-board and three dollars a day."
'* Why, that's fine, and you only sixteen
years old, too. I shall be well pleased if Tom
does as well at the mines."
^'If he does well, I expect to join him in a
month or two."
"I don't know as it's wise. Perhaps you
had better stay where you are."
''I might not make as much money, but I
should not be satisfied to come to California
and not go to the mines."
*' That's just exactly what I am going to do.
Me and mother are better off in Sacramento.
However, you are young, and that makes a
difference."
** I must leave you now, Mr. Cooper, and get
back to business."
"Are you a good deal confined? "
156 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
*' Yes, that's the worst of it. I have to be at
the restaurant in the evening till ten o'clock,
but I can get off for an hour every after-
noon."
'* Well, come out and see us often. I would
invite you to come and take Supper some
night, but I suppose you couldn't accept."
^^jN'o, Mr. Cooper, thanking you just the
same."
*'You haven't been homesick yet, Grant,
have you?"
'^IS^o; except the first day, when I didn't
know how I was coming out."
" And you wouldn't like to be back on Mr.
Tarbox' s farm again ? "
*' Not much ; but I should like to see mother
again, if only for a few minutes."
^'If you do well, and carry home a good
sum of money, you can make things comfort-
able for her, you know."
*^ That's what I am thinking of all the time."
Grant took leave of the blacksmith and went
back to work. He was glad to think he had
some one to call upon who reminded him of
home. He worked long hours, though the
A TRUE FRIEND. 157
labor could not be considered hard. There
was one other waiter beside himself, a young
man of twenty-five, named Albert Benton. He
was thin and dark-complexioned, and Grant,
without being able to explain why, conceived
a dislike to him. He saw that Benton was
inclined to shirk work, though he received
higher pay than his young associate. He was
paid ^Ye dollars per day and had a room out-
side. Mr. Smithson, the proprietor of the res-
taurant, had desired him to sleep in a small
room over the restaurant, but he had declined
to do so. Upon this the same request Avas
made of Grant, and he complied, glad to save
the price of lodging elsewhere. When the
restaurant closed at ten o'clock, frequently
Grant would go out for a short walk, as it was
a relief to breathe the fresh outside air after
being confined in the close atmosphere of the
eating-house during the day and evening.
Generally he and Benton went out together,
but his companion soon left him, finding a
simple walk entirely too slow and unexciting
for his taste.
CHAPTER XIX.
GRANT FALLS UKDEE SUSPICION.
IT struck Grant as strange that Ms fellow
waiter, though he received five dollars a
day, never seemed to have any money on hand.
More than once he had borrowed a couple of
dollars of Grant, which, however, he always
repaid.
** What can he do with his money ? ' ' thought
Grant. " He gets very little chance to spend
it, for he is confined in the restaurant from
twelve to fourteen hours a day."
The mystery was solved when, one night,
he saw Benton entering a notorious gambling
saloon not far from the restaurant.
*' So that is where he disposes of his money,"
reflected Grant. ''I wish I could venture to
give him a hint. But probably he would pay
it no attention, as I am a boy considerably
younger than he."
158
GRANT FALLS UNDER SUSPICION. 159
He did, however, find occasion for speaking
soon afterward.
** Have you ever been to the mines, Mr. Ben-
ton?" he asked.
**]sro."
** Don't you ever expect to go ? "
**I would go in a minute if I had money
enough."
**I should think you might save money
enough in a month or two. You get good
pay."
** It's tiresome saving from one's daily pay.
I want to make a strike. Some day I shall.
I might win ^ve hundred dollars in the next
week. When I do I'll bid the old man good-
by, and set out for the mines."
**J believe in saving. A friend of mine, now
in San Francisco, warned me to keep clear of
the gambling-houses, and I would be sure to
get on."
Albert Benton regarded Grant suspiciously.
*' Does the boy know I gamble, I wonder ? "
he said to himself .
*' Your friend's an old fogy," he said, con-
temptuously.
160 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
'^ Don't you think his advice good ? "
" Well, yes ; I don't believe in gambling to
any extent, but I have been in once or twice.
It did me no harm."
If he had told the truth, he would have said
that he went to the gambling-house nearly
every evening.
"It's safest to keep away, I think."
" Well, yes, perhaps it is, for a kid like you."
'No more was said at the time. But some-
thing happened soon which involved both Ben-
ton and his associate.
Mr. Smithson, the proprietor, began to find
that his receipts fell off. This puzzled him,
for it appeared to him that the restaurant
was doing as good a business as ever. He
mentioned the matter to the senior waiter.
*^ Benton," said he, *'last week I took in
fifty dollars less than usual."
" Is that so ? " asked Benton indifferently.
**Yes; I can't understand it. Has the
trade fallen off any, do you think?"
"Keally, I can't say. It seemed about the
same as usual — that is, the number of cus-
tomers did."
GRANT FALLS UITDER SUSPICION. 161
** So it seemed to me."
*' Perhaps they ordered less. Now I think
of it, I feel sure that they did."
*'That might explain it partially, but not
so large a falling off."
'*! suppose you haven't thought of any
other solution of the question ?" said Benton,
slowly scrutinizing the face of his employer.
*' Have you?"
'' Well, sir, I have, but I don't like to men-
tion it."
''Out with it!"
''I don't Icnow anything, sir."
" If you suspect anything, it's your duty to
tell me."
''Well, perhaps it is, but I might be doing
injustice to Grant."
" Ha ! what has Grant to do with it ?"
"Nothing that I Tcnoto of."
"Good Heavens, man, don't tantalize me in
this way. What do you suspect?"
"Well, sir, the boy always appears to have
money."
"He seems to be economical, and I pay him
well. That counts for nothing."
11
162 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
'^N'o, sir, but — some one told me that lie
had seen him entering a gambling-house on
the street."
** Ha ! that would account for his needing a
good deal of money. By the way, do you
ever enter such places? "
'*I have entered out of curiosity, sir,"
answered Benton, with a burst of candor. '*I
wanted to see what they were like."
*' Better keep out of them altogether."
^'No doubt you are right, sir."
*'But about the boy — have you ever ;ieen
him take anything from the drawer ? "
'* I couldn't be sure of it, but once when he
was alone I entered suddenly, and saw him
near the ^drawer. He flushed up and came
away in a hurry. I couldn't swear that he
took anything."
However, Benton's tone implied that he felt
sure of it all the same, and so it impressed Mr.
Smithson.
*^Did you have any recommendations with
Grant?" inquired Benton, in an insinuating
tone.
*' No; but, then, I had none with you, either."
GEAJ^T FALLS UNDER SUSPICION. 163
*^That is true. Still, I hope you have con-
fidence in me."
**I know of no reason why I should not.
Do you know if Grant drinks ? "
*' I don't think he drinks muchJ^^
*^Does he drink at all?" asked Smithson
curtly.
^^One evening I saw him coming out of a
drinking saloon pretty well loaded. That is
the only time, however."
*'It was once too often. Benton, I have
been greatly deceived in that fellow. I
thought him a model boy."
*^So did I, sir, and I don't think he is
xery bad now. Perhaps he has been a little
indiscreet."
** It is very kind of you to excuse him ; but
if what you say is true, I shall not be able to
retain him in my employment."
'*Give him a little more time. Remember
that I Jcnow nothing positive to his discredit.
He may not have taken the money."
This half-hearted defence of Grant led Mr.
Smithson to think that Benton was his friend
and spoke against him unwillingly. It never
164 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
occurred to tim that his senior waiter was
only seeking to divert suspicion from himself.
«' Yery well," he said. *' I'll keep him on a
week longer. Perhaps something may occur
in that time to confirm my susjucions or dis-
credit them."
The result of this conversation was that the
restaurant keeper was all but convinced that
Grant was a sly young villain and was
secretly robbing him. He had a friend, how-
ever, who had once been a detective in St.
Louis, though now engaged in a different
business in Sacramento.
He sought him out and told him the story.
Vincent listened attentively.
"It looks bad for the hoj ; don't you think
SQ ? " Smithson asked.
'' Yes, if all is true that is said against him.
But who says it ? " '-
"Albert Benton."
" The old waiter ? "
"Yes."
" You have never yourself seen the boy
drunk, or coming out of a gambling-house ? "
"No."
GEAISTT FALLS UNDEE SUSPICIOlSr. 165
''Then all the testimony to that effect is that
of the man Benton ? "
" Yes."
"May not Benton have an object in slander-
ing the boy ? "
'^ He seemed very reluctant to say anything
against him."
" That may be all artfulness, and to divert
suspicion from himself."
'' You surely don't think he would rob
me?"
>' Why not?"
" He has been in my employ for a year."
'* Then he ought by this time to have a good
deal of money saved up — that is, if his habits
are good."
'' I am sure he has not."
" What evidence have you on the subject ?"
'' At one time, three months since, I thought
of selling out the restaurant, and asked Ben-
ton if he didn't want to buy it."
"Well, what did he say?"
"That he hadn't got fifty dollars in the
world."
" How much do you pay him ? "
166 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
"Five dollars a day and Ms board."
'* Whew ! and he spends all that ?"
** He seems to."
**Look here, Smithson, you are on the
wrong tack. He is the thief, and not the
boy."
"I can't believe it."
"Leave the matter in my hands, and I will
prove it to you."
"How!"
" I shall follow Benton in the evening, and
see how he spends his time and money. But
you must be careful not to let him know that
he is suspected. If anything is said of the
disappearance of money, tell him that you at-
tribute it to decrease in trade."
"All right ; I will do as you suggest."
" He doesn't know me, and will not imagine
that I am watching him."
Two days later Albert Benton, a little anx-
ious to know whether he had himself eluded
suspicion, asked his employer: "Have you
found out anything about the lost money ? "
"I am not sure that any has been lost," an-
swered Smithson carelessly.
GEANT FALLS UNDER SUSPICION. 167
*^ Have you watched the boy ? "
^^ Yes, but he doesn't look to me like a thief.
It may be, after all, that we are doing less
business."
*'Yes, sir; that's very likely," responded
Benton, glad that his employer was disposed
to regard the matter from this point of view.
*' I don't like to think that any one in my
employ would rob me."
'*Yery true, sir. It would be a great
shame."
*'It's all right!" thought Benton com-
placently. ^'Itis better so. I don't care to
have the boy discharged. Some one might
succeed him whom I couldn't hoodwink so
easily."
CHAPTER XX.
BEISTTON IS TRAPPED.
JUDGING that Ms employer's suspicions
were allayed, Benton ventured to take two
five-dollar bills from tlie till before lie went
out in the evening. Currency was at that
time mixed, and bills, as well as gold and
silver, were in circulation.
He left the restaurant at the usual time. It
so happened that Grant had something to do
and did not go out with him. Benton, there-
fore, went at once to the gambling-house which
he was in the habit of frequenting.
** I'm getting tired of being cooped up in the
restaurant day after day," he said impatiently.
*'Why can't I make a strike? If I could
scoop in four hundred dollars to-night I would
leave Sacramento and go to the mines. Then
I might strike it rich and carry home ten
thousand dollars, as Grant's friend did."
Grant had told him the story of John Hey-
168 «
BENTON IS TEAPPED. 169
wood's good fortune, and it had impressed
Mm.
* ' If a clodhopper like that can make a for-
tune, why shouldn't I? " he asked himself.
So his purpose to go to the mines and try
his luck was strengthened. If he had begun
six months before to save money, he would
have had enough to start before this, but
Albert Benton was one of those who despised
small and steady savings, and are always on the
lookout to ^' make a strike," as he termed it.
**That boy won't spy on me to-night," he
said to himself. '^I must be careful. If the
old man knew where I spent my evenings he
would smell a rat. I wonder how much I've
taken from the drawer in the last three
months. Fully as much as my wages, I ex-
pect. Well, he can stand it. He's making
plenty of money, anyhow."
It was in this way that he excused his
thefts. Yet he felt that he would like to
leave the restaurant and put himself in the
way of making that fortune for which he
yearned.
Though Grant was not in the street to see
170 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
where he went, there was another who quietly
noticed his movements and followed his steps.
This was John Vincent, the ex-detective.
From the first he had suspected Benton and
doubted Grant's guilt. He was a man skilled
in physiognomy, and he had studied Benton's
face and formed a pretty accurate estimation
of his real character.
^'If Benton hasn't robbed my friend Smith-
son's till, then I lose my guess," he said to
himself.
He did not, however, say much of his sus-
picions to the keeper of the restaurant, who,
he saw, was disposed to consider Grant the
guilty party. He waited till he had some evi-
dence to offer in confirmation of his theory.
When Benton entered the gambling-house
Vincent followed close behind him. Benton
saw him, but did not know that he was a
special friend of Mr. Smithson.
Vincent placed himself at a neighboring
table in such a position that he could watch
Benton. He saw him take out one of the
bills which he had abstracted from the till,
and stake it.
BENTON" IS TRAPPED. 171
*^Wliat do you put down paper for?"
asked a man beside Mm. '' Gold is better."
*' Bills are just as good," said Benton.
^' I will give you gold for bills," said Yin-
cent. ''I want to send some money to the
East."
*'A11 right, and thank you," said Benton.
**Here are two fives."
*' And here are two gold pieces," said Yin-
cent.
There was a secret look of elation on his face
as he received the bills, and furtively noticed
a red cross on the back of each. They had
been secretly marked by himself as a trap to
catch the thief, whoever he might be.
''Now I have you, my man," he thought.
'' This is the evidence I have been looking for.
It settles the question of Benton's guilt and
Grant's innocence."
Yincent played two or three times for slight
stakes, and rose from the table after a while
neither a loser nor a winner.
He did not go immediately, but stayed, like
many others, simxDly as a looker on.
" Won't you join us ? " asked Benton.
172 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
^'No; I must go away soon. I want to
write a letter. I only dropped in for a few
minutes."
Albert Benton played with unusual good
fortune. He had been in the habit of bewail-
ing his poor luck, but to-night the fates seemed
to favor him. The little pile of gold before him
gradually increased, until he had four hun-
dred and seventy-five dollars.
*^ Twenty-five dollars more, and then I will
stop," he said. *' To-morrow I will give
notice to Smithson and get ready to leave
Sacramento."
But instead of winning the sum desired, he
began to lose. He lost twenty-five dollars,
and in desperation staked fifty. Should he
win he would still have five hundred dollars,
and then he would leave off. Upon that he
was quite determined. But again he lost. He
bit his lips, his face flushed, his hands trem-
bled, and there was a gleam of excitement in
his eye. He had no thought of leaving off
now. It must be five hundred dollars or noth-
ing !
There is no need to follow him through his
BENTON IS TRAPPED. 173
mntations of luck. At the end of an honr lie
rose from tlie table without a dollar. He had
enough, however, to buy a glass of whiskey,
which he gulped down, and then staggered
out of the gambling-house.
*^I was so near, and yet I lost ! " he said to
himself bitterly. ^'Why didn't I keep the
four hundred and seventy -five dollars when I
had it, and get the other from the restaurant ?
I have been a fool — a besotted fool ! "
He pulled down his hat over his eyes and
bent his steps homeward, where he tossed all
night, unable to sleep.
But in the morning his courage returned.
^' After all," he reflected, *'I am only ten
dollars worse off than when I entered the gam-
bling house, and that was money I took from
Smithson. I've had a pretty good lesson.
The next time fortune smiles upon me I'll
make sure of what I have won, and leave off in
time."
Yincent went straight from the gambling-
house to the house of his friend Smithson.
The latter came down stairs half dressed and
let him in.
174 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
^*What brought you here so late?'' lie
asked, rubbing his eyes.
" Because I have some news for you."
" What is it ? Nothing bad, I hope."
'' Oh, no ; it is only that I have found the
thief who has been robbing you."
'* It is the boy, then, as I thought," said
Smithson eagerly.
" Ko, it isn't the boy."
"Who, then?"
'* Who else is there 1 It is Albert Benton."
''Are you sure of this?" asked Smithson,
dumfounded.
'' Yes ; there is no doubt of it."
''Come in and tell me how you found out."
Vincent entered and sat down on a chair in
the front room.
"I will tell you," he answered. "I took
the liberty to go to your money drawer and
mark four bills this afternoon. I marked
them with a red cross on the right-hand corner
of the reverse side. Well, Benton took two of
those bills with him this evening when he
stopped work."
" How do you know ? "
BENTOIT IS TEAPPED. 175
** I was near by when he left the restaurant.
1 followed him at a distance, and saw him
enter Poole's gambling-house."
**Well?"
*'I entered too, and took my place at a
neighboring table. He produced a five-dollar
bill, when some one suggested that gold was
preferable. Upon that I offered to give him
gold for bills. He produced two fives, and I
gave him two gold pieces for them."
**Well?"
** Here they are."
The detective drew from his wallet two
bank-notes, and showed Smithson the red cross
on the reverse side of each.
CHAPTER XXI.
ALBERT BENTON IS UNMASKED.
^rriHAT'S pretty conclusive evidence, isn't
JLit?" said Jolin Vincent, tapping the
marked bills.
'^ I didn't dream of It," said the restaurant
keeper.
** I did. I suspected him as soon as you told
me he was trying to fasten suspicion upon
Grant Colburn."
*' You don't think the boy had anything to
do with the theft ? "
*' I feel sure of it. The boy is an honest boy.
You have only to look in his face to see that.
I haven't been a detective for nothing. I may
be mistaken at times, but I can generally judge
a man or boy by his face."
' ' Does Benton know that you suspect him ? ' '
"No. I wasn't going to give myself away.
By the way, he had quite a stroke of luck to-
night."
176
ALBERT BENTOIT IS UNMASKED. 177
^' At the gambling-liouse 1 "
*'Yes. At one time lie was a winner of
nearly or quite five hundred dollars."
*'Then lie will be able to make up to me
tlie amount he has taken."
''Don't flatter yourself! I said he was a
winner of that amount at one time. I didn't
say he went out with that sum. As a matter
of fact, he lost it all, and left the place prob-
ably without a dollar."
Smithson looked disappointed.
''Then," he said, "I shan't get my money
back."
"I am afraid not."
' ' He must have taken hundreds of dollars."
" Quite likely."
"The villain!" exclaimed the restaurant
keeper. "And I have paid him so liberally,
too!"
" Well, Smithson, it might have been worse.
I suspect you have a pretty tidy sum laid by."
Smithson' s face changed, and he looked com-
placent.
"Yes, Vincent," he said. "I'm worth a
little money."
13
178 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
*^ Good ! Look upon tliis as a little set-back
that won't materially affect yon, and pnt it
down to tlie account of profit and loss."
" Very good ! I will do so. But to-morrow
I will give Mr. Benton liis walking ticket."
Albert Benton came to work as usual in tlie
morning. His employer came in half an hour
late. By this time the waiter had become re-
signed to his disappointment of the night pre-
vious. He recognized his folly in not making
sure of the large sum he had at one time won,
and determined to act more wisely in future.
Presently, when he chanced to be unem-
ployed, Smithson beckoned to him.
*' Benton," he said, *^you remember my
speaking to you about missing money from
thetilU"
'^Yes, sir; but I thought you decided that
it was only a falling off in receipts."
*' Yes, I said that ; but it seems to me that
the deficiency is too great to be accounted for
in that way."
*^You may be right, sir. You remember
what I told you about the boy ? "
*' You think he took the money ?"
ALBERT BEiS^IOX IS UNMASKED. 17D
^' I feel about sure of it."
' ^ And you think he gambles it away ? "
*' Such is my impression."
^*How am I to find out the truth of the
matter? "
^'I would suggest that you have the boy
searched. I feel sure that you will find that
he has a considerable sum of money in his
pocket."
^'That may be, but he will say that he has
saved it from his wages."
'*0h, yes ; I have no doubt he will say so,"
said Benton, nodding his head significantly.
** And it may be true. He doesn't seem to
spend much."
^'He has bought some clothes."
''True; but he was quite able to do so
out of what I pay him and have money left
over."
''Well, I hope it is so. I don't want to
harm the boy, but I thought it only due to
you to tell you what I know."
"You don't appear to know much. You
only suspect. However, I will call Grant and
see what he has to sav."
180 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
Grant, being summoned, came up to where
they were standing.
"Do you want to speak to me, Mr. Smith-
son ?" he asked.
''Yes, Grant; about an unpleasant matter.'*
''HaVe I done anything wrong? Are you
dissatisfied with me ? "
' ' I can't say. The fact is, for some time past
I have been missing money from the drawer."
Grant's look of surprise was genuine.
"I am very sorry to hear it," he said.
' ' Of course the money could not have disap-
peared of itself. Some one must have taken it. ' '
" I hope you don't suspect me," said Grant
quickly.
"I have always regarded you as honest, but
Benton here tells me that you have formed
some bad habits."
'' I should be glad to know what Mr. Benton
has to say about me," said Grant, regarding
his fellow waiter with indignation. Ben ton, in
spite of his assurance, could not hel]3 looking
confused and ill at ease.
''He tells me that you are in the habit of
visiting gambling saloons."
ALBEKT BENTON IS UNMASKED. 181
"He has told you a falsehood," said Grant
boldly.
" I told you lie would deny it, Mr. Smithson,"
said Benton, determined to face it through.
^^Has he seen me in a gambling-house?"
demanded Grant.
*' I have seen you coming out of one."
^'That's false. If he can find any one to
confirm his false charge, I will not object to
your believing it."
" I have no doubt a good many have seen
you there."
'^ Is there any other charge he brings against
me, Mr. Smithson 1 "
"He says he has seen you under the in-
fluence of liquor."
"That also is false. He has invited me to
go into a saloon and take a drink, but I always
refused."
"Oh, you are an angel ! " sneered Benton.
"I don't pretend to bean angel, but lam
honest and temperate, and I never drink."
"I think, Mr. Smithson, if you will search
the boy you will find a good sum of money in
his pocket."
182 DIGGING rOR GOLD.
^^Is that true, Grant?" asked the restau-
rant keeper.
*^Yes, sir. I have about a hundred dollars
in my pocket."
'^ I told you so," said Benton triumphantly.
"I never knew there was anything wrong
in saving money," retorted Grant. *'I am
anxious to get together money enough to
warrant me in going to the mines."
''There is nothing wrong in that," said
Smithson kindly. '' And now, Grant, that we
have had Benton's testimony against you, I
want to ask you what you know against
him."
''I would rather not tell," answered Grant.
"That is very creditable to you; but you
must remember that you have a duty to me,
your employer. Have you seen him enter a
gambling- house ? "
" Yes, sir," answered Grant reluctantly.
''I told you, sir, that I had looked in once
or twice," said Benton, ill at ease.
*' Only once or twice ? "
''Well, I won't be precise as to the number
of times."
ALBERT BENTON IS UNMASKEP. 183
"Were you in a gambling-house last
night?"
'' Yes ; I looked on."
'' How long did you stay ? "
" A few minutes."
** Did you play?"
^'No," answered Benton hesitatingly.
*'I wish I knew how much he knows,"
thought Benton. " Somebody must have been
telling him about me."
" What, then, was your object in going in ? "
^*I was wakeful, and thought I would while
away a few minutes there. When I felt
sleepy, I withdrew."
Just then Vincent entered, as previously
arranged between him and Smithson.
*'Mr. Vincent," said the proprietor, '^did
you see either of my waiters in a gambling
house last evening ? "
" I saw him," pointing to Benton.
"He admits that he went in, but says he did
not play."
"He seems to be forgetful," said Vincent
coolly. ' ' He played for a considerable time,
and had a great run of luck."
184 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
Benton said nothing. He looked very much
discomposed, but waited to see how much
Vincent could tell.
*' So he was a winner ? "
*^He won nearly five hundred dollars."
'* That doesn't look as if he were the novice
he claims to be."
*^But he didn't keep his winnings. He
kept on playing till he lost all he had
won."
^'You must remember, sir," interrupted
Benton, '*that a green hand is often luckier
than a practiced gambler."
" So I have heard."
** And if I did play, that doesn't convict me
of having stolen money from your till."
^'That is true."
** I was foolish, I admit, and I mean to give
up the practice."
^' You said you didn't play."
*' Because I thought it would make you
think I was guilty of theft."
'* On that point I have other evidence."
''What is it ? If Grant says he saw me take
anything he lies."
ALBERT BENTOISr IS UNMASKED. 185
*' I have not said it, Mr. Benton.''
**Then I should like to know what evidence
you can bring against me."
''Do you remember these two bills ? " asked
Vincent, taking out his wallet and producing
two five-dollar notes.
''Well, what about them?" asked Benton
doggedly.
" I gave you two gold pieces for them last
evening."
" Yes ; I believe you did."
"You took them from the money drawer
before you left the restaurant."
"That is false!"
" Do you see the cross, in red ink, on the re-
verse side of the bills ? "
"Well, what of it?"
" I marked the bills in that way, so as to be
able to trace them."
" Well," said Benton faintly.
"They were put into the drawer at three
o'clock yesterday afternoon. They must have
been taken out some time between that hour
and the time when you produced them in the
gambling-house."
186 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
''I am tlie victim of a conspiracy,'' said
Benton, turning pale.
" If it is a conspiracy to put my friend here
on your track," said Smithson, "then you
have some color for your statement. Mr. Yin-
cent is an old detective."
Albert Benton was silenced. Ingenious as
he was, there was nothing left for him to say.
''!N"ow, Benton," said Mr. Smithson, "how
much have you taken from me during the time
you have been in my employment T'
"Perhaps a hundred dollars," answered
Benton sullenly.
" I am very much mistaken if the amount is
not four or five times as great. Are you pre-
pared to make restitution ? "
"I have no money."
"Then I shall feel Justified in ordering your
arrest. Your guilt is aggravated by your
seeking to throw the blame on Grant."
"I have a valuable diamond at home. I
will turn that over to you," said Benton, with
a sudden thought.
" How much is it worth ? "
" I paid three hundred dollars for it."
ALBERT BENTON IS UNMASKED. 187
*' You can go and get it."
Benton took off his apron, put on his hat,
and left the restaurant.
Half an hour — an hour — passed, and he did
not return.
^'Mr. Smithson," said Vincent, ''the fellow
has given us the slip. He won't come back,
nor will you ever see anything of his diamond.
I don't believe, for my part, that he had any."
The detective was right. Benton managed
to borrow fifteen dollars of a friend, and withiu
an hour he had left Sacramento for good.
CHAPTER XXIL
PULLING UP STAKES.
ME. SMITHSON supplied tlie place va-
cated by Benton without delay. He en-
gaged a man of middle age wlio Iiad come
back from the mines with a fair sum of money.
Before the first week was up, he made his em-
ployer an offer for the restaurant, and after
some negotiation the transfer was made.
'' I should like to have you continue Grant
Colburn in your employment," said Smithson,
with a kindly consideration for his young
waiter.
'*I am sorry to say that I cannot do it,"
answered his successor. ^'I have a young
townsman at the mines who has not been very
successful. I have promised to send for him
in case I went into business."
'^ It is of no consequence," said Grant. *' I
have always wanted to go to the mines, and
188
PULLING UP STAKES. 189
now I have money enough to make the ven-
ture."
The same day, by a lucky coincidence, Grant
received the following letter from Tom
Cooper ;
Howe's Gulch, October 5.
Dear Grant :
I have been meaning to write you for some time, but
waited till I could tell whether I was likely io succeed
or not. For the first month I was here I only got out
enough (^^'oM-dust to pay my expenses, and envied
lather and -70U, who have a sure thin^'» The fact is,
nothing is more uncertain than niuing. You may
::tri!-o i"i rich, or may fail entirely". Till last week it
looked as i : it would be 'J\q last in my case. But all at
once I struck a pocket, cjic. have thus far got two hun-
dred and seventy-five dollars out c" it, v/ith more in
prospecto That will make np fc:= Iczi time, I tell you,
Grant, it is a very exciting life. You arc likely any
day to make a strike. Further down the creek there is
a longp lank Vermonter, who in a single week realized a
thousand dollars from his claim. He took it pretty
coolly, but was pleased all the same. "If this sort of
thing continues a little longer," he told me, "I'll be-
come a bloated bondholder, and go home and marry Sal
Stebbins. She's waitin' for me, but the old man, her
father, told her she'd have to wait till I could show him
two thousand dollars, all my own. Well I don't thiak
I'll have to wait long before that time comes," and I
guess he's right.
But I haven't said what I set out to say. That is I
wish you would pull up stakes and come out here. I
190 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
feel awful lonely, and would like your company.
There's a claim about a hundred feet from mine that I
have bought for twenty-five dollars, and I will give it to
you. The man that's been workin' it is a lazy, shiftless
creeter, and although he's got discouraged, I think it's
his fault that it hasn't paid better. Half the time he's
been sittin' down by his claim, readin' a novel. If a
man wants to succeed here, he's got to have a good
share of " get there " about him. I think you'll fill the
bill. Now, just pack up your things, and come right out.
Go and see father and mother, but don't show 'em this
letter. I don't want them to know how I am getting
along. I mean some day to surprise 'em. Just tell
them that I'm gettin' fair pay, and hope to do better.
There's a stage that leaves Sacramento Hotel for
" tiieso diggin's." You won't have any trouble in findin'
it. Hopin' soon to see you, I am,
Your friend,
Tom Cooper.
This letter quite cheered up Grant. He was
anxious to find out how it seemed to be dig-
ging for gold. He counted over his savings
and found he had a little over a hundred
dollars. But lack of money need not have in-
terfered with his plans. On the same day he
received a letter from Giles Crosmont, from
which we extract a paragraph :
Eemember, Grant, that when you get ready to go to
the mines, you can draw upon me for any sum of
money you want. Or, should you lose your place, or
PULLIl^G UP STAKESc 191
get short of money, let me know, and I will see that you
are not inconvenienced for lack of funds. I am think-
ing of making a little investment in your name, which I
think will be of advantage to you.
*^ That's a friend worth having," said Grant
to himself. * ' If I had a father, I should like
to have hiri like Mr. Crosmont. He certainly
could not be any kinder."
He wrote back that he was intending to
start on the following day for Howe's Gulch,
and would %7rite again from there. He con-
cluded thus : * ' I thank you very much for
your kind offer of a loan, but I have enough
to start me at tho mines, and will wait till I
stand in need. When I do need money, I won' t
hesitate to call upon you, for I know that
you are a true friend."
He went round to see the blacksmith the
next forenoon.
" How do you happen to be off work at this
hour?" asked Mr. Cooper.
*' I'm a gentleman of leisure, Mr. Cooper."
*'How is that, Grant? You haven't been
discharged, have you 1 "
"Well, I've lost my place. Mr. Smithson
192 DIGGIISTG FOE GOLD.
has sold out his restaurant, and the new man
has a friend of his whom he is going to put in
my place."
'* I'm sorry, Grant," said the blacksmith in a
tone of concern . * ' It doesn' t seem hardly fair. ' '
'^ Oh, it's all right, Mr. Cooper. I am going
out to the mines, as I always intended to do.
I shall start to-morrow morning."
" I wish you luck. I don't know how Tom
is getting along."
''Then I can tell you, for I've had a letter
from him. He writes that he is doing fairly
well."
Jerry Cooper shook his head.
'' I guess he ain't doing as well as he did on
the old farm at home," he said.
''He writes very cheerfully and wants me
to come out."
" He's too proud to own up that he's disap-
pointed. Just tell him that if he wants to
oome back to Sacramento and help me in the
shop, I can give him two dollars a day and his
living."
"I'll tell him, sir. I hope you are doing
^eU."
PULLING UP STAKES. 193
"I never did so well in my life," answered
the blacksmith complacently. *' Why, Grant,
I've averaged ten dollars a day over and above
all expenses ever since I took the shop. How
is that for high ? "
*'Why, father, I never knew yon to use
slang before," said Mrs. Cooper reprovingly.
" Can't help it, old lady. It's my good luck
that makes me a bit frisky. If we were only
to home, I'd give you money to buy a new
bonnet and a silk dress."
*' Thank you, father, but they wouldn't do
me any good here. Just fancy me walking
through the town dressed up in that style.
How folks would stare ! When I get home I
won't mind accepting your offer."
"Well, folks don't dress much here, that's
a fact. Why, they don't dress as much as
they did in Crestville. I never looked so
shabby there, but nobody takes any notice of
it. There's one comfort, if I don't wear fine
clothes it isn't because I can't afford it."
"If you're going away to-morrow. Grant,"
said Mrs. Cooper hospitably, " you must come
and take supper with us to-night. I don't
13
194 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
know as I can give you any brown bread, but
I'll give you some baked beans, in Eastern
style."
"I shall be glad to get tliem, Mrs. Cooper.
I haven't tasted any since I left home."
*'Iwish I could send some to Tom," said
his mother. ''Poor fellow, I don't suppose
he gets many of the comforts of home where
he is."
''I'm afraid I couldn't carry the beans very
conveniently," said Grant, with a laugh.
On his way back to the restaurant, to make
some preparations for his coming departure,
he was accosted by a tall, thin man, who
looked like a lay preacher.
"My young friend," he said, with an apolo-
getic cough, "excuse me for addressing you,
but I am in great need of assistance. I
Why, it's Grant ! " he exclaimed in amazement.
"Mr. Silverthorn ! "
" Yes, my young friend, it is your old friend
Silverthorn, who counts himself fortunate in
meeting you once more," and he grasped
Grant's reluctant hand and shook it vigor-
ously.
PULLITTG UP STAKES. 195
'' You may be my old friend, Mr. Silver-
thorn," returned Grant, ''but it strikes me
you didn't treat me as such when you took the
money from my pocket."
''I acknowledge it. Grant, I acknowledge
it," said Silverthorn, as he took the same old red
silk handkerchief from his pocket and wiped
his eyes, '' but I was driven to it by want and
dire necessity."
''Well, let it pass ! When did you reach
Sacramento?"
' "Only yesterday. Ah, Grant, I have had
sad vicissitudes ! I wandered in the wilder-
ness, nearly starving, till I came across a party
of Pennsylvania Quakers, who aided me and
brought me with them to this place."
" I hope you did not repay their hospitality
as you did ours."
"No, no. I obeyed the promptings of my
better nature. And now, how have you pros-
pered ? Have you been to the mines ? "
" No, I have been employed in a restaurant."
"In a restaurant ! Oh, how the word
moves me ! Ah, Grant, I have not tasted food
for twenty-four hours."
196 DIGGIK'G FOE GOLD.
**Coine with me, then, and I will see that
you have a dinner.'*
He took Silverthorn to the restaurant and
authorized him to order what he liked. Mr.
Silverthorn was by no means backward in ac-
cepting the invitation, and Grant had a dollar
to pay.
*' I feel better ! " sighed Silverthorn. '' Do
you think I could get employment here ? ''
'* 'No ; my place is taken."
" And how are my old friends, the Coopers V^
'' Mr. Cooper is running a blacksmith shop,
and Tom is at Howe's Gulch, where I am
going."
'' Could you — you are so kind — pay my
expenses to the mines ? I should so like to see
my friend Tom."
''No, I couldn't," answered Grant bluntly.
" I thought I would ask," said Silverthorn,
by no means abashed. '' Tell Mr. Cooper that
I will soon call at his shop."
"I don't think he will care to see you,"
thought Grant.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE FIEST DAY AT THE MINES.
A BOUT three o'clock in the afternoon the
J-jl. stage from Sacramento arrived at
Howe's Galch.
Among the other passengers Grant de-
scended, his limbs sore from rattling over the
roughest kind of roads, and stretching him-
self, he looked around him.
The stage had drawn up in front of the hotel,
but it was not such a hotel as the reader is ac-
customed to see. It was a long, low frame
building, with what might be called an attic
overhead, which was used as a general dormi-
tory, with loose beds of straw spread over the
floor. Here twenty-five persons slept in a
single room. Down below rude meals were
supplied for those who could afford to pay the
price.
297
198 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
But Grant felt little interest in the hotel.
He expected to meet Tom Cooper, and looked
out for him.
He had not long to wait.
"How are you, Grant? Delighted to see
you. How' s the folks V
Grant turned, and in the bearded, roughly
dressed miner found it difficult to recognize his
friend of the plains— Tom Cooper.
His face lighted up as he grasped Tom's
hand cordially.
*' Your father and mother are well," he said,
" and so is Mr. Silverthorn."
*' What ! have you seen that scoundrel ? "
** I left him at Sacramento. He wanted me
to pay his fare out here."
"You declined?"
" Yes ; I thought he would be company for
your father. He may adopt Silverthorn in
your place."
* ' He' s welcome to him, if he likes. It' s good
for sore eyes to see you. Grant. How do you
feel?"
"Sore enough. I thought I should be
shaken to pieces over the rough road."
THE FIRST DAY AT THE MINES. 199
'' You are hungry, I reckon. Come into the
hotel, and we'll have dinner."
I^othing loath. Grant followed Tom into the
dining-room, where dinner was laid in readi-
ness for the stage passengers. It was not such
a meal as an epicure would enjoy, but Grant
ate with great relish.
*' So you have been doing well, Tom?" said
Grant, between two mouthfuls.
'' Yes ; you didn't tell father what I wrote
you?"
*' No ; you told me not to."
'* What did he say about me ? "
''He said that he didn't believe you were
doing much ; he thought you had better come
back to Sacramento and help him in the shop."
Tom laughed.
"I think I'll stay here a little longer," he
replied. "How is dad doing ? "
"Finely. He is making ten dollars a day."
"Good for him ! He wouldn't do for min-
ing. Besides, there's mother. He's better off
where he is."
" Where do you sleep, Tom ? "
Upstairs. I have a pair of blankets up
u
200 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
there, and a pillow, and I don't need anybody
to make my bed."
"I suppose I ought to have a pair of
blankets."
"I'll buy you a pair. There's a chap going
to leave to-day, and we can buy his. Now
come out and see the mines."
Leaving the hotel, Tom led the way to the
mining claims. There was a deep gulch half a
mile distant, at the base of which ran a creek,
and it was along this that the claims were
staked out. They were about twenty feet
wide, in some cases more. Tom led the way
to his, and showed Grant the way he worked.
He used a rocker, or cradle. A sieve was
fitted in at the top, and into this the miner
shoveled the dirt. Tom rocked the cradle
with one hand, after it was filled, and poured
water on the dirt from a dipper. Gradually
the dirt was washed out, and if there was any
gold it would remain in small gleaming par-
ticles mixed with black sand.
" Isn't that rather a rough way of working,
Tom?" asked Grant, after his tour of inspec-
tion.
THE FIEST DAY AT THE MINES. 201
*^ Yes ; I have been thinking of getting wliat
tlie miners call a 'long torn' — no pun in-
tended."
"What is that?"
I won't give Tom's answer, but quote a more
accurate description from an English book
published in 1857 : ''A * long tom ' is nothing
more than a wooden trough from twelve to
twenty-five feet long, and about a foot wide.
At the lower end it widens considerably, and
the floor of it is a sheet of iron, pierced with
holes half an inch in diameter, under which is
placed a flat box a couple of inches deep.
The long tom is set at a slight inclination over
the place which is to be worked, and a stream
of water is kept running through it by means
of a hose. While some of the party shovel
the dirt into the tom as fast as they can dig it
up, one man stands at the lower end, stirring
up the dirt as it is washed down, separating
the stones and throwing them out, while the
earth and small gravel fall with the water
through the sieve into the ripple box. This
box is about five feet long, and is crossed by
two partitions. It is also placed at an inclina-
202 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
tion, so tliat the water falling into it keeps the
dirt loose, allowing the gold and heavy par-
ticles to settle to the bottom, while all the
lighter stuff washes over the end of the box
along with the water."
The dirt taken out of the ripple box has to
be washed out afterward, so as to leave the
gold particles.
^' Where is the claim you have bought for
me, Tom ? " asked Grant.
^'A little farther down the creek. I will
show you."
"Lend me your cradle, and, see if I can
work it."
Grant took the cradle and, under Tom's
direction, shoveled in some dirt, and proceeded
to rock it. He was quite delighted when, as
the result of his labors, a few specks of gold
appeared at the bottom.
''How much does it amount to, Tom?" he
asked, gathering it into his hand.
'' Perhaps a dime."
Grant looked rather disappointed.
'' It would take some time to get rich at that
rate," he said rather ruefully.
THE FIRST DAY AT THE MINES. 203
" Yes ; but there is always a chance of
'striking it rich.' That is what keeps our
spirits up. By the way, Grant, I have a pro-
posal to make to you."
*^ What is it, Tom?"
'' Suppose we work together. We can take
turns in digging, shovelling in the dirt, and
rocking the cradle. That will be more socia-
ble, and we can divide equally whatever gold
we obtain."
**That will suit me exactly, Tom; but as
you are more experienced than I, you ought to
have more than half."
"No, Grant. It shall be share and share
alike. There is another advantage. It will
save getting an extra rocker."
"I am ready to begin at once."
'• Are you not too tired ? "
'*No, Tom. I want to feel that I have be-
gun to work. If I get tired I can sleep better
to-night."
They worked for two hours, when they
knocked off for the day. The work was done
on Grant's claim. Tom estimated the result at
a dollar.
204 PIGGING FOR GOLD.
*' That is fifty cents apiece," he said. ** To-
morrow we'll do better."
'^1 don't mind, Tom. I have made a begin-
ning. Now I feel that I am a miner."
At six o'clock they went to the hotel,
which was a general lounging-place for the
miners.
CHAPTER XXIV.
GEANT HAS AN ADVENTURE.
**Q<HALL we take supper at the hotel?''
kJ asked Grant. *'How much do they
charge?"
** Two dollars a day for meals and lodging."
"Isn't that considerable?" asked Grant,
rather dismayed.
"Yes, if one only earns fifty cents," an-
swered Tom, smiling.
"Do you like sleeping in such a crowd,
Tom ? "
"No ; but there seems no other way, unless
I bought a cabin, and I should feel too lonely."
"But now there are two of us together.
Why can't we hire a cabin, and lodge and eat
independently ? We can take turns in doing
the cooking, and it will be a good deal
cheaper.'^
"Do you know anything about cooking,
Grant? I don't."
905
206 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
'^ Yes ; I took some lessons at tlie restaurant.
I can teach you all I know myself."
'' Then we can establish ourselves to-morrow.
There is a deserted cabin a little way up the
gulch, which no one seems to care to occupy.
It is in fair condition, and the last occupant
kept house, so that there are dishes and cook-
ing utensils. We can take possession, and
then, if any one disputes our right, we can
agree to pay rent."
'' That will be capital," said Grant, in a tone
of satisfaction.
For a month Grant and Tom Cooper worked
assiduously, sometimes at one claim, some-
times at the other. The life of a miner is full
of excitement. Even when he meets with poor
luck, there is the prospect every day of mak-
ing a rich find. But in the case of the two
friends it was always hope deferred. At the
end of the month they sat down to consider
the situation.
"Well, Grant, we don't seem to get much
richer," said Tom, taking a whiff from a clay
pipe, which was his evening luxury after a
hard day's work.
GEANT HAS AN ADVENTURE. 207
*^ We made fifty cents yesterday," responded
Grant soberly.
*' Between ns. That is twenty-five cents
each."
*' On the whole, we have been losing ground
during the last month. I am twenty dollars
poorer than when I came here."
'' And I have fallen behind as much, or more
than that."
*' Digging for gold isn't what I thought it to
be," said Grant. *' I was doing a good deal
better in Sacramento."
*'That maybe; but we mustn't forget that
a man does strike luck once in a Avhile."
" It won't do us any good to have some other
man strike luck."
" I see you are getting down-hearted. Grant. '^
''Well, not exactly ; but I think I've made
a mistake. I^either of our claims amounts to
much."
' ' What do you propose, then ? "
"I have nothing to propose," said Grant
modestly. "You are older and more ex-
perienced than I. I will follow your plan. ' '
''Then let us work three days longer. If, at
tlie end of that time, nothing turns up, we will
pull up stakes, and go elsewhere. We can't
afford to go on working and falling behind all
the time."
'' Three days then, Tom."
^' You haven't had any luck yet, Grant. I
had a share before you came."
"I am afraid my coming brought you bad
luck."
"Bad luck or not, I am glad to have you
here. After a hard day's work it seems pleas-
ant to have some one to talk to."
"If I should leave you, how would Silver-
thorn do ? " asked Grant, smiling.
"Poor company is worse than none. I'd
rather hustle by myself than have that man
'round."
The next morning the two partners went to
work as usual. They always started hopeful
of good results, but, as the day wore away and
results were meager, their hopes began to sink.
That day they cleared between them a dollar
and a half, while their expenses, at a modest
calculation, so high were provisions, were
nearly double this sum.
*^ Another day lost!" commented Tom as
they sat over their evening fire, for it was be-
ginning to grow cold at the close of the day.
^^We won't say anything about it," said
Grant. "Let the three days pass, and then
we will consult."
About the middle of the next afternoon
Grant was attacked by a violent headache.
"I shall have to close up work for the
day, Tom," he said.
"Go to the cabin and lie down," suggested
Tom.
" I would rather go on a walk. The fresh
air may do me good."
Grant dipped his handkerchief in the stream,
bathed his forehead, and then set out on a
stroll to the south of the claims. Finding
relief, he pushed on till he had probably
walked a couple of miles.
It was a lonely stretch of country, and, with
the exception of a boy, he met no one. His
surprise was the greater, therefore, when at
one point he heard a groan, evidently proceed-
ing from some one in pain. He looked about
him, and finally discovered an old man lying
14
210 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
under a tree, doubled up with pain. It was
hard to tell his age, for his appearance was
neglected, and he had the air of one who lived
apart from his fellow men.
''What is the matter?" asked Grant, in a
tone of sympathy. " Can I help you ? "
'' I am suffering from an attack of rheuma-
tism," answered the old man. '' It came upon
me suddenly, and has disabled me, as you see."
"What can I do for you ? "
'' If you can help me to my cabin it will be
a great service."
''Where is your cabin ? "
"In the edge of yonder woods."
He pointed feebly, and Grant, following the
direction, espied a small hut, brown and dis-
colored with age, standing under the shadow
of a rock about a quarter of a mile away.
He helped the old man to his feet, and half
supported him as he walked toward the cabin.
"Are you often seized in this way?" he
asked.
"ISTot often so suddenly and violently,
though I have been in the grip of my enemy
for years."
CHAPTER XXV.
ANOTHEE LONELY CABIN".
THEY reached the cabin at last, and then
a question which Grant was about to ask
was answered. The old man lived alone.
The furniture was of the simplest : a bed, a
couple of chairs, a table, and a few dishes.
''Is there no one to take care of you?"
asked Grant.
''No, I need no one," was the quick reply.
"I have remedies that will soon quiet the
pain."
" I should think you would feel lonely."
"I prefer solitude to the society of mean,
selfish, and designing men," answered the old
man bitterly.
"All men are not mean or selfish."
" No doubt you are right, but those whom I
trusted most have proved so."
" How long have you lived here ? "
211
" Six years."
^' Are you — poor ? If so, perhaps I can help
you.''
''No, no; poverty is the smallest of my
troubles. Look there ! ' ' and the old man
drew from his pocket a handful of gold pieces.
^'I have enough to see me through the few
years I have yet to live."
"But you have no occupation — no way to
fill up your time ? "
' ' I have a few books and my own thoughts.
I will tell you what little is to be told. I came
here six years ago, and for a time devoted
myself to gold-digging. I was fortunate, and
secured all I needed for my modest wants.
Then I stopped, for I had no object in accu-
mulating more. But you tell me about your-
self. You are young to be in California."
"Yes, I came to seek my fortune. I was
a poor boy, and my mother is unhappily
situated. I came to see if I could not improve
her lot and my own."
" What are you doing ? "
"I am digging for gold ? "
"Where?"
**At Howe's Gulch."
** Have you succeeded ? "
'' So poorly that I am thinking of giving it
up and going elsewhere. In Sacramento I
worked in a restaurant, and made a good deal
more money than I have made at the mines.
I am twenty dollars poorer than when I came
here."
''Are you alone?"
'^'No, I have a friend with me — a young
man whose acquaintance I made in crossing
the plains."
" Is he a true friend— a loyal friend ? "
"Yes."
"Then there are such in the world. Those
I have met have been of a different kind.
Has he been any more fortunate than your-
self?"
"]^ot since I arrived. He did something
before I came, but I must have brought him
bad luck, for he has been running behind ever
since. We have not been making expenses
for the last month."
"I never thought much of Howe's Gulch,
though some have been fortunate there.'
>>
214 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
*^ Then it was not there that you found your
gold?"
^'JSTo."
Grant wanted to ask the old man where it
was that his claim was located, but hesitated,
not knowing how the question would be
received.
"I can direct you to a rich spot," said the
old man, after a pause. *'I had intended to
let the secret die with me, but you have done
me a service "
'* A very slight one," said Grant modestly.
'*!N"ot slight, for without your help I should
have been unable to get home."
*^I was glad to serve you, and do not need
compensation. You may wish to work the
claim yourself."
" No ; my days of labor are over. I am sixty-
five, and might easily be taken for ten years
older. I shall be glad to contribute to your
happiness and success, and that of your friend."
*' Perhaps some one may have discovered
and worked the claim."
^'No ; it is an out-of-the-way place, and has
not attracted attention."
ANOTHER LONELY CABIN. 215
*'How, then, did you discover it?"
''By accident. As to tlie riclmess, let this
convince yon : in less than six months I took
out ten thousand dollars, and having no need
of more, stopped working, and carefully re-
moved all traces likely to betray the mine's
entrance to a casual observer."
''It will be a great favor to Tom and my-
self. We ought to give you a share of the
proceeds."
The old man shook his head.
"I shall not live long enough to spend the
money I have," he answered. "You are wel-
come to all it will yield you. Come here with
your friend to-morrow morning, and I will
give you the directions that will enable you
to find the claim."
"Can I do anything more fo;r you before
I go?"
"Yes; you may go to the stream behind
the cabin and bring me some fresh water."
Grant did as requested, and, elated by his
unexpected good luck, started on his return
to Howe's Gulch.
When Grant reached the cabin jointly occu-
216 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
pied by himself and Tom Cooper, he found
Tom sitting outside, smoking his pipe.
He looked very thoughtful.
**Have you got rid of your headache,
Grant?" he asked.
*^ Yes ; I feel as lively as a cricket."
^^ Then your walk has done you good ? "
'*A great deal of good," answered Grant;
but Tom did not detect the significance hidden
in the reply. **How long have you been at
home?"
/* An hour."
** Then you knocked off work earlier than
usual."
V'Yes," answered Tom soberly. **To tell
the truth, Grant, I'm discouraged. How
much do you think our day's work amounts
to?"
'^ Yours and mine ? "
**Yes."
'^ How much?"
*^ A dollar and seventy-five cents ! I think.
Grant, we had better inquire the location of the
nearest poor-house. We may want to ask ad-
mission."
ANOTHER LONELY CABIN. 217
" There's an old saying, Tom : 'The darkest
hour is just before the day.' "
** How does that apply here? "
*'I will tell you. I have secured a claim
from which ten thousand dollars was obtained
within six months."
*' And then it petered out ? "
**No ; the owner stopped working it because
he had money enough, and was satisfied."
* ' Hasn' t it been worked since T '
^^No."
*' How much did you agree to pay for it?"
asked Tom, in excitement.
** Nothing. It was given me for a service I
rendered the owner."
** This seems like a fairy tale, Grant. What
does it mean?"
'*I will tell you;" and Grant related hi&
afternoon's adventure.
'* Hurrah ! we're in luck ! " exclaimed Tom,
rising to his feet and swinging his hat in excite-
ment. '*If what you say is true, we're made
men."
**I am glad you look upon me as a man,"
said Grant, smiling.
218 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
u
I'm only anticipating a little. I hope," lie
added anxiously, ''the old man won't recon-
sider the matter."
" Not much chance of it. I haven't known
him long, but I am quite sure that he isn't that
kind of a man."
CHAPTER XXVI.
ITAHUM STOCKTOT^.
^^'TTTHAT shall we do with our old claims ? "
V V Before Grant could answer that ques-
tion a step was heard, and looking up, the two
friends saw approaching a tall, gaunt man of
thirty-five — a typical Yankee — whose shabby
attire indicated that he was ''down on his
luck."
''Good-evenin', friends," he said.
'' Good-evening, " responded Tom cordially.
*'Sit down with us, won't you? I've got an
extra pipe, if you would like a smoke."
''Thank you ; I'm just pinin' for a smoke.
Is this your tenement ? "
*' Well, we found it vacant, and squatted
here. The owner hasn't called on us for any
rent yet."
"You're in luck."
"Have you just arrived ? "
S13
220 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
*'Yes, I have. I'm a roUin' stone, and I
haven't gathered any moss."
* 'There's a good many in that fix."
'' Do yon see that coin ? " and the stranger
took from his pocket a silver quarter and
flipped it up in the air.
'^ Yes. Is there anything strange about it ? "
** Well, there's this — it's the last and only
piece of property now belonging to !N"ahum
Stockton. If you are acquainted with the tax-
collector, don't mention it, for I wouldn't like
to be assessed on it."
**I will respect your wishes, Mr. Stockton,"
said Tom, laughing. ''May I ask what are
your plans?"
*'If I can buy a claim for a quarter, I will
settle down here and dig for gold."
Tom looked at Grant, and Grant nodded, for
he read his friend's thought.
" Having so much money," said Tom soberly,
** you'd better buy a couple of claims."
''That's a good joke," returned Stockton,
with a grim smile.
*' No joke at all ! My friend and I own a
couple of claims, and we leave Howe's Gulch
ITAHUM STOCKTOI^r. 221
to-morrow. We will make them over to you
without money and without price. As to a
cradle, you can buy one on instalments."
"Do you mean it ?" asked Stockton eagerly.
*^ Yes ; but I don't want to deceive you in the
matter. They haven't been paying very well
lately, and Grant and I are going elsewhere to
prospect."
"If they are paying anything, I'll accept
them with pleasure."
"They are paying something, and of course
there's a possibility of striking it rich in either
one of them."
"Gentlemen," said Stockton earnestly, " you
don't know what you've done for me. I was
at the end of my resources, and felt kind o'
reckless. You've made a new man of me."
"We are glad to do you a service. Grant,
can't you get us some supper ? After eating^
we'll go and show Mr. Stockton the claims, for
we shall want to make an early start to-morrow
morning. Mr. Stockton, our supper will be a
plain one, but we shall be glad to have you
join us in eating it."
"You can't be gladder than I am," said
222 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
Nahum quaintly. " I haven't liad anything to
eat since mornin', and then it was only a slice
of bread and a glass of milk and water with the
milk left out."
Grant was in the cabin, making ready the
evening meal. There was bread and butter,
some cold meat, and cup of tea for each. Mr.
Stockton ate as if he enjoyed every mouthful.
''You don't ask me how I lost my money,"
he said.
'' You lost it, then ; you didn't spend it ? "
'' ;N'o ; if I had got the worth of it I wouldn't
have cared so much, but to be cheated out of it
by a mean scoundrel was a little too much."
" Were you cheated out of it ? "
"Yes. I'll tell you how. Coming from
'Frisco I struck Frost's Bar with a hundred
dollars in my pocket. A hundred dollars!
Sometimes I wonder if there is so much
money in the world, now that I am dead
broke ! Well, I had been meaning to buy a
claim, and was walkin' 'round when I met a
sleek appearin' man, who looked as if butter
wouldn't melt in his mouth. He asked me
what my plans were, and I told him I wanted
NAHUM STOCKTON. 223
to buy a claim. * Yon' re the very man I'm
lookin' after,' lie said. * I've got a rich claim
here, but my health has given way, and I
haven' t strength to work it. I'm willin' to sell
for half price.'
** Well, I looked at the claim, and I liked
the appearance of it. The artful rascal found
out how much money I had, and asked me a
hundred dollars for the claim. * But,' said I,
*that won't leave me anything to work it
with.' *I like you, Mr. Stockton,' he said, as
he grabbed my hand, and the tears came into
his eyes. * I feel like bein' a true friend to
you. I'll let you have it for ninety dollars,
and that ain't half what it's worth.'
^* Well, to make a long story short, I paid
over the ninety dollars, and he wrote out a
paper making over the claim to me. Then
he shook hands with me and went away. I
haven't seen him since."
** Wasn't the claim a good one?" asked
Grant.
^' Yes, the best at the Bar."
*'Then I don't see Avhat you have to com-
plain of."
224 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
Ci T'"
I'll tell you. The next mornin' I went
'round to take possession of my claim, when I
saw a stout, good-looking man workin' it.
'Hold on, my friend,' I said, *what are you
doin' with my claim ? '
'' ' Your claim ! ' repeated Charles Ambrose,
for that was his name. 'What are you
italkin' about?'
"^''I reckon I speak plain enough,' said I,
provoked. 'I bought that claim last night,
and I mean to hold it.'
'''Oh, you bought it?' said Ambrose.
' Of whom did you buy it ? '
" On that I produced the paj)er.
"'Here's the document,' I said. 'It is
signed by Dionysius Silvertliorn.' "
"What!" ejaculated Tom and Grant
Jointly.
" Do you know the man ? " asked Stockton.
"I think we do," answered Tom Cooper.
^'He's a tall, thin fellow, with a lamb-like ex-
pression, but he's an experienced swindler."
' ' You' ve about hit it. Bid he swindle you ? ' '
"No, but he tried to. Well, how did you
come out ?"
NAHUM STOCKTON. 225
^' At the little end of the horn. Silverthorn
was off with my money, and I had nothing to
show for it. I'd just like to get hold of him.
He wouldn't look quite so much like an inno-
cent lamb when I got through with him."
^'I left him at Sacramento," said Grant.
'Til hunt him up when I get a little
money," went on Stockton. ''I've met
scoundrels before, but he'll take the cake."
''Or anything else he can lay hands on,"
said Grant, with a laugh.
They walked over to the mining-camp, put
Stockton into possession of the claims, and
introduced him to a miner, who agreed to sell
him a cradle on instalments.
" Now, Grant," said Tom, "we'll go to bed,
for we may have a long walk before us to-
morrow."
15
CHAPTER XXYII.
PAUL CKAMBO.
FULL of hope, Grrant and Tom arrived at
tlie cabin of the old man who had prom-
ised them his claim.
"How are you feeling this morning?" in-
quired Gfrant, when they were admitted.
' ' Eather stiff, but better than yesterday. Is
this your friend ? "
*' Yes. His name is Tom Cooper."
The old man scrutinized him closely.
*'It's a good face," he said. *'Yon can
trust him."
"I do."
Tom looked well pleased.
*^You have come to ask me to keep my
promise."
"Yes. Your offer was a very kind one.
On the strength of it we have given our claims
PAUL CEAMBO. 227
at Howe's Gulch to a stranger, who came to
onr cabin last night penniless."
*' Then I shall be helping him, too. Are you
ready to go to work at once ? "
** Yes ; that's our hope."
'* The place where I made my pile is fifteen
miles away. Are you good for a long walk V^
*' I am," answered Grant.
** I will try to keep up with you," said Tom
Cooper, smiling.
*' My claim was on a creek at the base of a
hill, about a mile from a village called Eldora.
In the pocket of yonder coat I have drawn,
roughly, a plan of the place, which will be a
sufficient guide."
*' May I keep the paper ? " asked Grant.
*' Certainly."
*'If we start now. Grant, we can get there
before night."
*' Go, then, and may success attend you."
" Can't we do anything for you before we go,
sir?"
*';N"o, thank you. One thing, however, I
will ask. In a month, let me know how you
are getting along. I look upon you as my
228 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
successors. I liope you may be as fortunate
as I was."
The two friends set out with stout hearts, in
excellent spirits. The walk was long and fa-
tiguing, but there is nothing like hope to
sweeten toil. About midway they sat down
under a tree, and ate, with hearty appetite,
the lunch they had taken the precaution to
carry with them.
*'I wish there was more," said Grant wist-
fully.
''Your appetite seems improving."
^' There's nothing like a good walk to make
a fellow feel hungry. I wonder how Stockton
is getting along."
'' He will make something at any rate. I
pity Silverthorn if ever our long-legged friend
gets hold of him."
After an hour they resumed their walk, and
about four o'clock they reached their destina-
tion. They visited the location of the claim,
and surveyed it with a guarded manner, not
wishing to draw attention to it.
They fell in with a thin man, of medium
stature, who talked in a drawling tone. He
PAUL CRAMBO. 229
seemed to have a considerable share of curi-
osity.
''Where might you be from, strangers?"
he inquired.
''We might be from China, but we aint,"
said Tom.
"Is that a joke ? " asked their new acquaint-
ance, puzzled.
"Yes ; it's an attempt at a joke.*'
" I reckon you don't want to tell."
" Oh, yes ; we're entirely willing. We came
from Howe's Gulch."
" So ? Did you strike it rich there 1 "
" No ; we struck it poor," said Grant, with a
smile. "We found ourselves headed for the
poorhouse, so we switched off."
"I was at Howe's Gulch myself a year
ago."
"^Did you have luck ? "
*' Not much. I paid expenses."
" Are you mining now ? "
"No; I'm farming. I live just out of the
village — me and Mrs. Crambo, and a boy that's
working for us."
" How far from here ? "
230 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
" Abonfc a mile."
'* How would you like a couple of boarders ? '*
'' Are you going to stay 'round here ? "
" We may — ^for a while."
**Come to the house, then, and speak to
Mrs. Crambo. If she's agreeable, I am."
They accompanied their new friend to a
plain, but comfortable house, looking not
unlike a New England farm-house. Mrs.
Crambo was a pleasant looking woman, weigh-
ing at least fifty pounds more than her lord
and master. She was evidently the *' better
man of the two," being active and energetic,
while he was slow and seemed to find exertion
difficult.
^'If you are willing to set up a hotel, Mrs.
Crambo," said her husband, " I bring you two
boarders for a starter."
"I shouldn't mind a little company," she
said pleasantly. *^How long have you been
out here?"
^^N'ot long enough to make our fortunes,"
answered Tom:
*' Do you expect to make them out here 1 "
she asked shrewdly.
PAUL CBAMBO. 231
" We would like to. Perhaps Mr. Crambo
will put us in the way of doing it.'*
'^ Do you hear that, Paul ? " she said, laugh-
ing.
Mr. Crambo scratched his head.
''I haven't made my own yet," he answered
slowly.
*' If it rained gold pieces, you wouldn't pick
up enough to keep you going for three
months. You know you are shiftless,
Paul."
''Well, perhaps I am, Martha. I can't get
up and hustle like you."
"'No, you're not one of the hustling kind.
Well, gentlemen, if you want to stay with us
awhile, and don't object to seven dollars a
week each, we'll try to accommodate you.
When do you want to begin ? "
"Right off," answered Tom, upon whose
olfactories the savory smell of dinner, cooking
in the next room, made an agreeable impres-
sion. ''The terms are satisfactory."
So it happened that Tom and Grant became
inmates of the Crambo household. The first
meal satisfied them that their hostess was a
232 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
most accomplislied cook, and tlie supper
seemed to them delicious.
''Have you had any gold-digging near
here?" asked Tom.
"l^ot much. There was an old man who
had a claim somewhere near where I met you,
but I don't think he made much. Finally he
got discouraged and went away. That's a
good while since."
''Evidently he doesn't suspect anything,"
thought Grant. "All the better. We shan't
have any competitors."
" Then you don't think he took much gold
away with him ? " he said aloud.
"ISTo. I guess he wasn't calc'lated for a
gold miner."
"He might have taken a lesson of you,
Paul," suggested Mrs. Crambo.
"I never had a good claim," answered the
master of the house. " If I had I'd have done
as well as the next man."
"It depends on who the next man was,"
said his wife.
"There aint any more money in mining,"
PAUL CEAMBO. ^33
said Crambo dogmatically. *'A11 the claims
are petering out."
'^ I guess you are tlie one that's petered out."
'* Perhaps you'd like to go into the business
yourself, Mrs. C."
'''No, thank you. I've all I can do to take
care of you and the farm. Help yourself to
the doughnuts, Mr. Cooper."
'' Thank you," said Tom. '' I haven't eaten
a doughnut before, since I left home. Your
doughnuts can't be beat."
Mrs. Crambo was pleased with this tribute
to her cooking, and was very gracious to her
new boarders. After supper she showed them
to a chamber on the second floor, well and
comfortably furnished.
*'You two gentlemen will have to room
together," she said. *^This is the only room
I have to spare."
**We shan't object," said Tom. ^* Grant
and I are friends and partners, and are not
likely to quarrel."
^* Crambo and I never quarrel," she said,
with a significant laugh. '' He knows better."
234 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
'' Yes my dear," said Paul meekly.
''We're in luck, Grant," said Tom. "For
the first time in months we shall live like
Christians."
' ' I hope you won' t be offended, Tom, but I
like Mrs. Crambo's cooking better than
yours."
"That's where you show your good taste.
I wasn't intended by nature for a cook, and I
can say the same for you."
The next morning the two friends set out
after breakfast for the deserted claim. They
opened it up, and soon found traces of past
workings.
They had been there for about a couple of
hours when Paul Crambo came along.
" What's up ? " he asked, in surprise.
" We've gone to work," answered Tom.
" That must be the claim the old man used
to run.'"
"Yery likely. I thought some one must
have been at work here before."
" Likely you'll get discouraged and go off,
as he did."
"We'll try to make enough to pay our
PAUL CKAMBO. 235
board. That'll keep us here, even if we don't
succeed very well."
''I never like digging for gold," said
Crambo. " It made my back ache."
^' Grant and I will try it awhile."
Mr. Crambo looked on awhile and then
sauntered away. It made him uncomfortable
to see others work hard. He became fatigued
himself out of sympathy.
CHAPTER XXYIII.
THE BEGINNING OF SUCCESS.
TOM and Grant met with little success dur-
ing the first two days, and were corre-
spondingly disappointed. After all the high
hopes with which they had entered upon this
new enterprise, it was certainly discouraging
to realize scarcely more than at Howe's Gulch.
But on the third day they struck a '* pocket,"
and in the next two days took out ^ve hun-
dred dollars.
*^ That's the way to do it, Grant," said Tom,
his face fairly radiant. *'It pays to dig for
gold at this rate."
*^ So it does, Tom. I felt sure the old gentle-
man wouldn't deceive us."
'' If it will only last, we shall make our for-
tunes."
*' This pocket won't last, of course, but we
may strike another. You know Mr. Gibbon
236
THE BEGINNING OF SUCCESS. 237
told US he took out ten thousand dollars in
six months."
**That is true, so we may hope for a good
streak of luck."
** There is one thing I have been thinking
of, Tom. Where shall we keep our gold-
dust?"
Tom looked doubtful.
*^If we could send it away," he said, "it
would be better. Of course, if we keep it
under our own charge we may be robbed."
"To begin with, we must not let any one
know how well we are doing."
"That is important. The news would at-
tract adventurers and thieves."
Finally it was decided to keep the dust for
the present in a box at their boarding-place»
In the room the two partners found a sailor's
chest which had been left by a former boarder,
who had left the house in arrears. Grant
bought it of Mr. Crambo for a couple of
dollars, and Paul seemed glad to get rid of it
at that price. There was a good lock upon it,
and into this chest their daily findings were
put, till at the end of a fortnight, they had^
238 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
according to Tom Cooper's estimate, about one
tliousand dollars.
Of their good luck neither Mr. nor Mrs.
Crambo had the slightest idea.
^'How are you making out at the mines,
Mr. Cooper?" asked Mrs. Crambo one even-
ing.
" So, so ! " answered Tom indifferently.
" You'll never make your fortune at that
there mine," said Paul.
''Oh, well, we are not ambitious," rejoined
Grant. '' If we make enough to pay our board
and a little more, we shall not complain."
''I hope you'll do that," said Mrs. Crambo.
''I have got used to having you here, and
should be sorry to have you go. If you
should find yourself short at any time, just
put off paying your board. I am not afraid to
trust you."
''You are very kind," said Tom warmly;
" but we had a little money with us when we
came, and we are doing enough to make it
pretty certain that we can pay our board."
"You wouldn't if you didn't work harder
than my husband."
THE BEGINNING OF SUCCESS. 239
"My dear," interposed Mr. Grambo, shrug-
ging Ms shoulders, ^' I work as hard as I can.
I wasn't made for hard work."
"I don't believe you were," said his wife.
** You never have made a success yet."
** Except in marrying you," responded
Paul.
Mrs. Crambo smiled.
*^ It may have been good luck for you," she
replied, *'but I am afraid that in becom^
ing Mrs. Crambo I made a serious mis-
take."
''I suppose you regret not marrying Silver-
thorn," said Paul.
^'Silverthorn! " exclaimed G-rant and Tom
Cooper in unison.
" Yes ; his name was Bionysius Silverthorn,
and he looked like a preacher. Do you know
him?"
*' We have met him."
*'He taught a dancing school in Wiscon-
sin— that's where my wife and I came from —
and was rather sweet on her. I think she ga"9e
him some encouragement."
'' You know I never did, Paul."
S40 DIGGINa FOR GOLD.
a
I sometimes think you hanker after him
yet, Rebecca."
"Well, between you and him I am not sure
that there is much choice," retorted Mrs.
Crambo.
''I can assure you there is," said Grant.
*^Silverthorn is the worst fraud I ever came
across."
" I say the same," chimed in Tom.
'^What do you know of him? My wife
will be interested to hear," said Mr.
Crambo.
Upon this the two partners gave an account
of their personal experience with Silverthorn,
and what they had learned of him through
Nahum Stockton.
"Paul," said Mrs. Crambo, "that settles
it. You needn't be jealous of Mr. Silverthorn.
I wouldn't marry him if I were left a widow
to-morrow. For the first time I begin to
see that I might have done w^orse. By the
way," resumed Mrs. Crambo, "I have had
an application for board from another
party."
" A gentleman ? "
THE BEaiNJSriNG OP SUCCESS. 241
*' Humph! I can't say as to that. It's a
man, at any rate."
" What did you say ? " asked Tom, a little un-
easy. The presence of another boarder would
render the discovery of their secret more likely.
''I said I would take him for a few days on
trial," answered Mrs. Crambo.
*' Is he in any business 1 "
*^ He says he is prospecting."
*' What is his name? "
* ' I can' t remember. However, we shall soon
know, for he is to come this evening."
In fact, just at this moment, there was a
knock at the door, and Mr. Crambo, answering
it, nshered in a person familiar to Grant, at
least.
*' Albert Benton ! " he exclaimed.
*'What, Grant, you here?" exclaimed
Benton, in surprise.
''Why, are you gentlemen acquainted?"
asked Mrs. Crambo.
''Yes," answered Grant briefly; "we knew
each other in Sacramento."
Grant v/as by no means pleased to see his old
associate in the restaurant.
16
242 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
'' And what are you doing here, Grant ? '*
asked Benton curiously.
"Mr. Cooper and I are working a claim,'^
answered Grant unwillingly.
'*Isit rich? Don't you want a partner?'^
inquired Benton briskly.
" No ; we can do all the work that is re-
quired. But what are you doing 1 "
"Oh, I've been drifting around," said Ben-
ton evasively. "I was digging for gold a part
of the time."
" Did you meet with any success ? "
" ]N"ot much. I tell you, Grant, this mining
business is played out. I don't know what I
shall take up next. If I had capital, I would
set up a restaurant of my own."
"You^may be right about mining," said
Grant. "We made very little at Howe's
Gulch."
I suppose you are doing better here ?"
We are not ready to retire yet."
I am glad I happened to come here. It
will be pleasant to be in the same house with
an old friend."
u
THE BEGINNIT^G OF SUCCESS. 243
Grant was truthful, and did not respond to
the compliment.
About eight o'clock he and his partner went
up to their chamber, where, as the nights were
growing cool, they were accustomed to sit be-
fore a fire and chat of their prospects. 'Now
their privacy seemed likely to be broken in
upon, for Benton invited himself to go up with
them.
*'Come, now, this is what I call comfort,"
he said, and he leaned back in his chair and
puffed at a cigar. *' Reminds me of old times.
I say, what a queer chap Crambo is ! "
** He is rather peculiar, but a good-natured,
pleasant man."
''Oh, I don't say anything about that, but
he's got a wife that is twice as smart as he is."
"Mrs. Crambo knows how to cook. That
is what chiefly interests us."
Albert Benton had an inquiring mind, and
was gifted with a large measure of curiosity.
He looked about the room, and his glance fell
on the chest.
'' What do you keep in that ? " he inquired.
244 DIGGINa FOE GOLD.
'* ClotMng," answered Grant briefly.
*'What made you get a chest? A trunk
would do better."
" We found it here, and bought it of Mr.
Crambo. As neither of us had a trunk, we
tod it convenient."
" When do you go to work ? "
'* We have breakfast at seven o'clock, and
generally get to work about eight."
'* What sent you here ? This isn't a mining
region."
''I suppose we drifted here, as you did."
*' Well, we'll see what' 11 come out of it."
At ten o'clock Tom Cooper suggested to
their guest, who showed no disposition to re-
tire, that Grant and himself were in the hab-
it of going to bed early, as their work during
the day fatigued them.
"All right! I'll see you both to-morrow,"
returned Benton, as he bade them good-iiiglit.
When he had left the room Grant said :
*^l'm sorry to see Benton here. lam afraid
he will give us trouble."
"In what way? By giving us too much of
his company 1 "
THE BEGINNING OF SUCCESS. 245
** Partly that, but if lie had any suspicion
as to the contents of the chest he wouldn't rest
till he had opened it."
"He wouldn't find it a very healthy pro-
ceeding," remarked Tom Cooper grimly.
CHAPTER XXIX.
BENTON HAS A PLAN.
SOME days passed. The new-comer did not
appear to find anything to do. He had
sauntered out to the claim worked by Grant and
Tom, and looked on, but had made no dis-
coveries. He did not know whether to think
they were prospering or not. He determined
to obtain some information, if possible, from
his landlord.
One morning, after the two friends had gone
to work, he lingered at the table, asking for
an extra cup of coffee as a pretext for remain-
ing longer.
''Do you think my friend Grant and his
chum are doing well?" he remarked care-
lessly.
''They can't be making much," answered
Paul. ' ' I think they are fools to waste their
time here."
" They must be making something," said
246
BENTON HAS A PLAN. 247
Mrs. Crambo. ''Thej pay their board bills
regularly."
" Do they pay in gold-dust ? "
*'No; in coin."
^^ Humph ! what do they do with the gold-
dust they get from the mine ? "
"I don't know. I never inquired."
This was meant as a hint that Benton was
unnecessarily curious, but he never took such
hints.
*'Is there any place in the village where
they can dispose of it ? "
"No," answered Paul; "not that I know
of. They would have to send it by express to
Sacramento or San Francisco."
"Where did you know Mr. Colburn?"
asked Mrs. Crambo.
"We were employed together in Sacra-
mento."
" He seems to be a fine boy — or young man,
perhaps I ought to call him. ISo steady, so
regular in his haoits."
Benton shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, he's well enough^" he answered, "but
he's mighty close with his money."
248 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
** I approve of young men being economi-
cal," said Mrs. Crambo.
*^ But not tight. Why, I once asked Grant
to lend me five dollars and, would you believe
it, he wouldn't do it."
** Did he receive more pay than you ? "
" I should say not. I received a good deal
higher pay than he, as I ought to, being older
and more experienced.''
''Then," said Mrs. Crambo shrewdly, "I
can't understand why you should need to
borrow money from him."
* * A man is sometimes hard up, no matter
how large his income may be."
" It ought not to be so," said Mrs. Crambo
dryly. *' Our income isn't large, but I never
ask any one to lend me money."
'' Oh, well, I suppose you are a good mana-
ger."
" Yes, I flatter myself that I am a fair mana»
ger. I think it my duty to be."
'' What a tiresome woman ! " thought Ben-
ton. '' I hate people who are always talking
about duty."
This was not surprising, for Benton con-
BENTOIS" HAS A PLATT. 249
cerned himself very little abont duty in his
own case.
When he left the table, he said to himself,
**It seems pretty certain that Q-rant and
Cooper haven't parted with any of their gold-
dust. The question is, where do they keep it ? "
That day Benton strayed into a restaurant
and boarding-house in the village, kept by a
man named Hardy, and learned incidentally
that he wanted to sell out.
**What do you want to sell out for?"
asked Benton.
*'Ihave got tired of the place. It is too
quiet for me. I want to go to San Francisco.
There's more life there, and more money can
always be made in a city like that."
*^How has the restaurant been paying?'^
questioned Benton.
** I can't complain of it. It has paid me
about forty dollars a week, net ; perhaps sl
little more."
'^ I have been in the restaurant business my-
self," continued Albert.
** Then you are just the right man to buy me
out."
250 DIGGIT^a FOE GOLD.
''Will you sell out for the money I have in
my pocket?"
''How much have you ? "
"'I have fifteen dollars in my inside
pocket,' as the song has it."
Hardy shook his head.
" I want a thousand dollars for the place,"
he said.
"I will buy it, and pay you on instal-
ments," said Benton.
"Well, I might agree to that for half the
purchase money. Pay me five hundred
dollars down, and the rest you can pay at, say,
twenty dollars a week. I am sure that is a
liberal offer."
"I don't think so. Besides, I haven't got
five hundred dollars."
' ' Can' t you borrow it ? "
"I don't know." And then it occurred to
Benton that perhaps Tom Cooper and Grant
might be induced to advance that sum of
money.
'^Well, perhaps so," he resumed, after a
pause.
" Find out, and then come and talk to me."
BENTON HAS A PLAN. 251
" Won't four hundred dollars dcV^
"JS'o. I shall need to take five hundred
dollars with me to San Francisco."
'' Is this thei best you can do ? "
^^Yes."
*' I will think of it, and let you know."
Albert Benton walked thoughtfully out of
the restaurant. He had tried gold-digging,
and didn't like it. His old business seemed to
him more reliable, and this seemed a good op-
portunity to go back into it.
^* Hardy hasn't much enterprise," he solilo-
quized. '' If he can clear forty dollars a week,
I shouldn't be surprised if I could carry it up
to sixty. I have never had a chance to show
what I could do, always having had some
one over me. I should just like to try it
once."
Benton waited till his two fellow boarders
got home from their day's work, and then
opened the subject.
'' I can tell you of a good investment for
your money, Grant," he said.
**How do you know I have any money to
invest?"
252 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
**I suppose you have been making some,
and you never spend any."
'' I never spend any foolishly, if that is what
you mean."
" You don't seem to have much idea of en-
joying life."
" Not in your sense. I enjoy life in my own
way."
*'I am glad you do, because you must have
some money to lend me."
*' To lend you?"
*'Yes; I have a chance to buy out a fine
restaurant in the village, but must pay five
hundred dollars down. I am almost sure I can
clear sixty dollars a week, net profit, from it.
You know yourself that I understand the
business."
'^ Yes, you ought to understand it."
'* I understand it better than digging for
gold. I soon tired of that."
*^It is tiresome work," admitted Grant.
** And doesn't pay much."
**It used to pay better — in the early days, I
should think."
**Well, Grant, what do you say? I can
BENTON HAS A PLAN. 253
give you the restaurant as security, and pay
you back at tlie rate of twenty dollars a week.
I'll pay you one per cent, a month inter-
est."
^'How much of the sum are you going to
furnish yourself ? "
"Why," said Benton, embarrassed, *'I am
not so fixed that I can pay anything at present.
I've got an old uncle, over seventy years old,
who is sure to leave me five thousand dollars,
so that is additional security."
" I haven't five hundred dollars to lend."
*' I didn't suppose you had, but your friend
Cooper could chip in with you on the loan,
and just draw his one per cent, a month regu-
lar. If that isn't enough, I would pay fifteen
per cent. It would pay me, for it would put
me into a good business."
"I don't know how Cooper will feel
about it, Mr. Benton, but I prefer to keep
what little money I have in my own hands."
"I think you might oblige a friend," said
Benton crossly.
> *^ There's a limit to friendship. I shall need
my money for my own use."
254 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
Cooper said the same, and Benton saw that
he must get the money in some other way. He
dropped the subject, in order to avert sus-
picion, and began to consider the scheme which
all the time he had in view to fall back
upon.
The next day, when the coast was clear,
he went upstairs, and entered Grant's room.L
There was no lock on the door, for in Cali-
fornia people were not suspicious.
" 'Now I wonder where they keep their gold-
dust?" Benton asked himself. "It must be
somewhere in this room, for they have no
other place."
He looked about him. The room was very
simply furnished. There was a bureau, with
three drawers, which Benton was able to un-
lock, for he had a key that would fit it. There
were only articles of underclothing inside, as,
indeed, Benton anticipated.
** I think it must be in the chest," he de-
cided, as he fixed his glance upon it. '^Let
me lift it."
He raised it, and found that it was quite
heavy.
BENTON HAS A PLAN. 255
** That's the weight of the gold-dust," he
reflected. ** If I could only open it ! "
He tried the different keys he had in his
pocket, but none of them would answer.
**I must hunt up some more keys," he said
to himself. '*It will pay."
CHAPTER XXX.
BENTON LAYS HIS PLANS.
A S Benton left the room, Paul Crambo,
jr\. who was just coming upstairs, caught
sight of him. Observing his landlord's sur-
prised look, Benton, who was not easily dis-
concerted, said, "I was looking for a clothes-
brush. I thought Grant might have one in
his room."
'' Did you find one ? " asked Crambo.
"'No.''
" I thought he had one."
Paul Crambo entered the chamber, and
pointed out a whisk-broom lying on the
bureau.
*' There is one," he said significantly.
*'So there is," said Benton, for once look-
ing confused. ''Where could my eyes have
been?"
*' It is strange you didn't see it. It was in
plain sight."
356
BENTON LAYS HIS PLANS. 257
" So it was. I am very absent-minded.''
Paul Crambo made no answer, but when lie
went downstairs be said to bis wife, " I begin
to mistrust that Benton."
"Why?"
Then Paul told what he had seen.
''You are right, Paul. He wasn't in there
for any good purpose. I can't say I am very
much surprised. I didn't take any fancy to
him."
''iN'orl. I wouldn't like to have him rob
our two friends. They are fine fellows."
'' We had better tell them to-night."
'' I'll do it before that. I'll go out to their
claim at once. The sooner they know it the
better."
'^Doso."
Paul Crambo didn't offcen call on the two
miners, and they were a little surprised to see
him approaching the claim.
'' How are you, Mr. Crambo ? Are you out
for a walk ? " asked Grant.
'' Partly ; but partly on business."
'' Do you want to buy us out ? "
'' Well, not at present. I ain't in love with
17
258 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
gold-digging. Is that Benton a friend of
yours, Mr. Colburn ?"
*' He isn't a friend. He is an acquaintance.''
** Do you like him ? "
*'I^ot overmuch."
*^ You had better look out for him."
"What do you mean?" asked Grant
quickly.
" I don't think he's honest."
^ ' You have some reason for saying that,
Mr. Crambo," said Tom Cooper.
" Just before I left the house I saw him
coming out of your room."
" Did he see you ? "
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
" He made a blind excuse ; said he went in
there for a clothes-brush, but he couldn't find
(ftie."
"Why, there was one on the bureau."
" So I found out when I went into the room.
I called his attention to it, and asked how it
happened that he didn't see it."
"Well?"
"He said he was very absent-minded. I
BEISTTON LAYS HIS PLANS. 259
think he didn't visit the room for any good
purpose."
*^I am sure of it," said Grant, and then he
told of Benton's experience in Sacramento.
**If you have anything of value in your
chamber," continued Paul, '^ I think you had
better remove it, or make sure that it can't be
taken away by your old friend."
" The fact is, Mr. Crambo," said Tom Cooper,
*' we have considerable dust in the chest which
we bought of you. We have kept it secret
hitherto, but I know I can rely upon you, and
I want your advice as to what to do. You
don't think Benton opened the chest ? "
** No ; he didn't have time. Besides, he had
nothing with him."
"It won't be safe to keep it there any
longer ; but the problem is, what shall we do
with it 1 We can' t find a hiding-place for it
here."
"If you will see Mrs. Crambo about it, I
think that she has a trunk that you can use
for the purpose."
* ' But wouldn' t that be just as risky ? ' '
" Not if the trunk is kept in our chamber.
260 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
Of course that depends on whether you have
any confidence in us.''
" The strongest, Mr. Crambo," said Tom cor-
dially. *'The plan seems a good one. But
the transfer must be made when Benton is out
of the way."
"We must pick out the right time. To-
night you can consult with Mrs. C. Then if
Mr. Benton carries out his plan, and opens the
chest, no harm will be done."
*^I hope he will," said Tom. "I should
like to watch the fellow's face, and see how
disappointed he will look."
When Tom and Grrant met Benton in the
evening, )t was difficult for them to treat him
as usual. Tom had a strong desire, as he
afterward told Grant, to seize Benton and
shake the life out of him.
''Did you have a good day, gentlemen?"
asked Benton nonchalantly.
"Oh, so, so! We didn't come across a
bonanza."
" I have, but I can't avail myself of it."
"You refer to the restaurant?"
" Yes ; I am afraid it will slip out of my
BENTON LAYS HIS PLANS. 261
hands if I don't raise five hundred dollars
within a week."
''Have you any scheme for raising it?"
asked Tom Cooper.
"Well, no, not exactly. I hope to find
some one who will lend me the money. If you
and Grant, now "
"We need the little money we have for
other purposes," interrupted Cooper.
"Oh, that's all right. I guess I'll raise it
somewhere."
" I suppose he means in our chest," thought
Grant.
CHAPTER XXXI.
BENTON OPENS THE TBUNK.
SOOIN" after supper Albert Benton went to
tlie village, and this left Grant and Tom
free to transfer their gold-dust to a trunk in
Mr. Crambo's chamber. When the change
had been made, Grant said in a satisfied tone :
^''Now, Benton can open the chest and wel-
come."
**rd liko to be present when he is doing it,"
said Tom Cooper.
Albert Benton was anxious to obtain a key
that would open the chest. He scraped ac-
quaintance with a clerk at the village hotel,
and casually remarked: "Tm in a bad fix.
I've got a trunk at home that I can't open."
*' Why not ? " asked the clerk.
'^I haven't a key that will fit it. You
don't happen to have any keys, do you ? "
^'I've got half a dozen," said the clerk, tak-
ing a handful from his pocket. ^'They are
keys that I picked up about the hotel."
S63
BENTON OPENS THE TRUNK. 263
*' Will yon lend them to me ? "
*^ Certainly. If you find one that suits, you
can liave it.''
Benton took them, well pleased. From the
size it seemed to him probable that one of
them would fit the chest.
''Thank you," he said. ''I will return
them to you to-morrow."
''Oh, don't be in any hurry. They are of
no use to me."
He left the hotel, and it chanced soon after-
ward that Grant and Tom entered it. Tom
was in search of a cigar, for he was a confirmed
smoker.
" I just had a call from one of your fellow
boarders," remarked the clerk, who knew both
Tom and Grant.
"Benton?"
- " Oh, is that his name ? I only knew that he
boarded at Paul Crambo's. Seems a sociable
sort of fellow."
"Quite so," answered Tom dryly.
"He is talking of buying a restaurant in the
village — the one kept by Hardy."
" I heard him mention it."
264 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
** He says lie was in tliat business in Sacra-
mento."
'* Yes," said Grant ; ^^ I knew Mm there."
'^ I did him a favor to-night — lent him some
keys," continued the clerk.
As may be imagined, this announcement was
of great interest to Tom and Grant.
'* What did he want keys for ? " inquired
Tom.
**He said he couldn't open his trunk. He
thought one of those I lent him might do."
Tom and Grant exchanged glances. They
understood very well what it was that Benton
wanted to unlock.
^ * Did he think he would raise the money to
buy the restaurant ? " inquired Tom.
*'Yes, he said he was negotiating for a
loan."
Meanwhile Benton had observed Tom Cooper
and Grant walking together. He had the keys
in his pocket, and was anxious to test the
question whether one of them would fit.
**AVhy shouldn't I try this evening?" he
asked himself. *' It is a fine night, and Grant
and Cooper will probably stay out some time.
BENTON OPENS THE TRUNK. 265
If I could only get the gold-dust and settle the
matter about the restaurant to-morrow ! Hardy
won't keep it for me very long. He is likely
to meet a man with money any time."
Benton kept on his way, and, seizing his op-
portunity, stole upstairs quietly and, as he
thought, unobserved. But Mrs. Crambo saw
him and suspected his purpose. When two
minutes later Tom and Grant entered the
house, she remarked: ''Mr. Benton has just
gone upstairs."
''I expected he would. He has borrowed
some keys in the village."
Tom removed his shoes, and went upstairs
softly. He saw at once that the door of his
chamber was open. He approached quietly,
and looked through the crack. There was
Benton on his knees before the chest, trying
one key after another.
At length he succeeded. The last key fitted
the lock, and he raised the lid eagerly.
"Now for it!" he muttered in a tone of
exultation.
When the lid of the chest was opened, a pile
of shirts and underclothing was revealed. It
266 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
is hardly necessary to say that Benton did not
care for these. He was in search of something
more valuable.
Eagerly he took out the clothing and piled
it on the floor beside the chest. Then he
looked anxiously for a box containing gold-
dust, for it had occurred to him as probable
that the two friends would keep their gold in a
tin box. But to his deep disappointment no
box was visible, nor any other receptacle for
the coveted dust.
^'I was on a false scent!" he exclaimed
bitterly. '' Where in the world do they keep
their gold?"
He was beginning to replace the clothing in
the chest, when the door was opened and Tom
Cooper and Grant entered. Benton sprang to
his feet in confusion, and tried to push his way
out of the room. But at a signal from Tom,
Grant closed the door and set his back against it.
''Now, Mr. Albert Benton," said Tom
Cooper sternly, *' what are you doing here in
our room?"
In spite of his assurance Albert Benton did
not know what to say.
BENtOIT OPENS THE TRUNK. 267
"I — I was in search of some old linen to
wrap round my ankle," lie stammered.
*' And so you entered our room, and broke
open my cliest ?"
'^I hope you will excuse me, I was indis-
creet," muttered Benton.
" That is a very mild way of putting it," re-
torted Tom. '' Benton, you are a thief."
*'Do — you — mean — to insult me?" asked
Benton.
'* Yes, if the truth insults you. Shall I tell
you what you were after 1 ^
Benton did not reply, and Tom Cooper re-
sumed : '* You thought we kept our gold-dust
in that chest."
*'Upon my honor ! " protested Benton.
''The less you say about your honor the
better," returned Tom, with contempt.
''Grant, what shall we do with him?"
Benton began to be alarmed. Tom Cooper
was a young giant. He had been brought up
to his father's business, and his muscles were
as firm and strong as steel. Benton knew
very well that he would be like a child in his
grasp.
268 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
'* Spare me," lie said, '^and I will not
trouble you any more."
"I don't think you will if you know wliat
is best for yourself. But you deserve to be
punished for what you have already done.
Grant, open the window."
*^ What are you going to do?" asked Ben-
ton, in alarm.
^I'll show you."
Tom seized the thief, and bore him in his
strong arms to the window. He held him out-
side, making a futile resistance, and then
dropped him.
The distance to the ground was only fifteen
feet, and Benton landed on all-fours, a little
jarred, but not seriously hurt.
'^Now," said Tom, leaning out, '^you had
better leave this neighborhood as expeditiously
as possible, or I will brand you as a thief, and
let the citizens take what course they choose."
Benton knew very well that in California at
that time thieves were not tolerated, and were
often strung up to a tree without ceremony.
He felt that he had better not stand upon the
order of his going, but go at once.
BEITTON OPE]SrS THE TEUINTK. 269
*^Let me go into the house and get my
things, '' he said submissively.
"" Have you settled up your board bill with
Mrs. Crambo ? "
*' I have only five dollars ! " he pleaded.
*^Let the board go!" said Mrs. Crambo^
who was on the stairs. *' All I ask is that he
shall go himself, and never come back."
Benton crept upstairs, and, getting his
small satchel, left the house. Where he
went Tom and Grant did not learn, nor did
they care.
*'That fellow will never thrive," said Tom,
"He has made a bad beginliing. Any man
who wants to get rich by appropriating the
property of another is sure to come to a bad
end."
**I guess you are right, Tom," said Grant.
**I am relieved to have Benton out of the
house."
*'You have lost your boarder, Mrs. Cram-
bo," said Tom. "How much board is he
owing you?"
"About five dollars."
" We will pay that ; won't we, Grant ? '*
270 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
" Certainly," answered Grant.
"I won't accept it," said Mrs. Crambo
decidedly. '^ It isn't your fault that Mr. Ben-
ton came here. As for tlie small sum lie owes
me, I can get along without it. It won't
break me. I don't believe you and your
friend have any money to spare."
"We have been doing pretty well, Mrs.
Crambo. We have no cause to complain."
"I am very glad to hear it, for you are
likely to stay here longer. You have been
working hard, and you are entitled to all you
have made."
''Have you really been doing well, Mr.
Cooper?" questioned Paul Crambo.
''Yes, Mr. Crambo; we haven't made a
fortune, but we have been very well paid for
our work. Would you like to buy a share in
the claim?"
Paul Crambo shook his head.
"Digging for gold doesn't agree with me,"
he said. " You are young men, and can stand
it, but I have a pain in the back if I work over
an hour."
Tom Cooper anticipated this reply, or he
BENTON OPENS THE TRUNK. 271
would not have made tlie proposal. He pre-
ferred to have Grant for his sole partner.
Nor did he care to have any third party know
how rich the claim really was. Notwithstand-
ing the hint he had given, neither Mr. nor
Mrs. Crambo had any idea what a bonanza the
boys had struck.
CHAPTEH XXXII.
A LETTER FEOM MR. CEOSMONT.
FOUR more weeks passed. The claim con-
tinned to yield richly, and at the end of
this time the two partners reckoned that they
had somewhat over two thousand dollars.
"I wish we could sell the gold-dust^ and
invest the money where it would be safe," said
Tom thoughtfully.
''If we were in Sacramento, we should be
able to send it by express to San Francisco."
''True ; but we have no means of doing it
here."
" There are plenty who would undertake the
job," suggested Tom.
"Could we find one that we could trust?"
asked Grant shrewdly.
"That's the question," said'Tom.
That same evening brought a solution of the
problem. A man who had just arrived from
San Francisco called at the house.
873
A LETTER FROM MR. CROSMONT. 273
**Does a boy named Grant Colburn live
here?" lie asked.
^'Yes."
''I have a letter for Mm from San Fran-
cisco."
Grant was summoned, and in some surprise
received the communication.
'^ It is from Mr. Crosmont," he said Joyfully,
as he opened the letter and looked at the
signature.
He read it aloud. It ran thus :
Dear Grant:
It seems a very long time since I have seen you, and
I am in the dark as to your successes and prospects. As
you know, my principal business is to look for my way-
ward son Gregory, who, I have reason to think, is in Cali-
fornia. Now, all visitors to California come sooner or
later to San Francisco, and it is for this reason that I
have established myself here. Thus far I have not seen
or heard of Gregory, but this is not at all surprising.
He may be somewhere in the interior, and in that case
there would be little chance of my hearing of him.
Meanwhile, I confess that I feel lonely. I am not a
man to make many friends, and I have met no one in
whom I feel an interest since I parted with you. I begin
to think that I should like to have you with me, and I
will promise that you will lose nothing by transferring
yourself to San Francisco. Will you, on receipt of this
letter, arrange to join me as soon as you can ? I am the
18
274 DIGGINGT FOR GOLD.
more anxious to have you do so, because I have not felt
very well of late, and, if I should fall sick, I should like
to have with me a tried and faithful friend whom I can ^
thoroughly trust.
I don't know how you are situated. You may be in
need. I, therefore, think it best to send by the bearer fifty
dollars, which will pay your expenses to this city. You
will find me at the Alameda Hotel in Stockton Street.
Though I am doing no business, I have made some in-
vestments in town lots which, I think, will pay me hand-
somely. I have bought two lots for you, which are re-
corded in your name. I look to see the present village of
San Francisco become a large, populous and influential
city. I may not live to see it, but you assuredly will. If
you need more money, let me know. Let me see you soon.
Your old friend,
Giles Crosmont.
'* Well," said Tom, after tlie reading was
ended, '' one question is settled."
''What is that?"
*' We needn't look any further for a messen-
ger to take our gold to San Francisco."
*' You mean that I am to take it ? "
*'Yes."
The two partners realized that Grant's mis-
sion would involve some risk. Californian
routes of travel were in those days infested by
robbers and road agents, who preferred mak-
ing a living in a lawless way to the more
A LETTER FROM MR. CROSMONT. 275
creditable and less hazardous paths of industry.
How to reduce the danger to a minimum was a
subject of anxious thought.
'* You had better not send all the gold-dust
by me, Tom," said Grant. "Then, if I am
robbed, it won't be a total loss."
This plan seemed wise, and Grant set out
with about fifteen hundred dollars' worth of
gold. He carried it in a valise, and, the better
to divert suspicion, wore an old and shabby
working suit.
* ^ I am not proud of my appearance, ' ' he said,
as he took a position in front of the mirror in
their chamber. " What do I look like 1 "
''A healthy young tramp," answered Tom,
laughing.
" I agree with you."
" However, there is one comfort ; no one will
think you have anything of value with you."
*'What will Mr. Crosmont think when I
make my appearance in San Francisco ? ' '
'' That you are down on your luck. How-
ever, you can explain to him."
The next morning Grant set out on his way
to Sacramento. Tom Cooper accompanied him
276 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
as far as the cabin of the old man to whom
they owed their present goodQIortune. It was
a long walk, and the valise, with its weight of
gold-dust, was no light burden.
When they reached the cabin, they found
Mr. Gilbert — for this was the old man's name —
sitting on a chair in front of it. His face was
naturally grave, but it lighted up when his
glance rested on the two new-comers.
"I am glad to see you," he said ; but, as his
glance dwelt on Grant in his shabby attire,
'' you don't seem to have prospered, "he added.
Grant laughed.
'^ Appearances are deceitful, Mr. Gilbert,"
he said. '* I am in disguise."
"I don't understand you."
'' Do I look as if I were worth robbing ? "
The old man smiled.
''You look," he said, "as if you had just
escaped from a poorhouse."
"Then the disguise is effective." said Tom.
" The fact is my young partner is going to San
Francisco, and this valise, which he is taking
with him, contains fifteen hundred dollars in
gold-dust."
^c>
CHAPTER XXXm.
ON TO THE GOLDEN GATE.
<<rT-ijjE]v^ you have really prospered?'' said
T
Mr. Gilbert.
'' Yes, sir ; we must have as much as seven
hundred dollars more, but this was as much as
Grant could conveniently carry. We depend on
his shabby attire to save him from attracting
the attention of robbers."
" You will remain at the claim ? '^ said Mr.
Gilbert, addressing himself to Tom.
'^ Yes, I shall continue to work it. Grant is
summoned to San Francisco by a friend whose
acquaintance he made in crossing the plains."
They stopped an hour to chat with the old
man, and then, resuming their march, reached
Howe's Gulch in time for supper.
They were immediately surrounded by old
acquaintances.
25?
278 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
'' Where are you bound, Tom ? " asked one.
*' Grant is going to San Francisco. He has
an offer of employment from a rich man there."
Won't you join us again ?-'
'No ; I have a claim some way from here
which will bear working a little longer."
" The boy doesn't look as if you had struck
luck."
**He will be all right when he reaches San
Francisco."
'* How about yourself? "
** Oh, well, I am not discouraged. There are
better times in store."
One of the crowd was Nahum Stockton, to
whom Grant and Tom had given their claims
when they left Howe's Gulch.
** Look here, Cooper," he said. '' You did
me a good turn. I've done pretty well with
the claim you gave me, and I want to show my
gratitude. If fifty dollars will ^o you or the
boy any good, I will let you have it."
Tom Cooper wrung his hand cordially.
" You're a good fellow, Stockton," he said,
*^ but we are not in want. I am glad you have
done fairly well, but we don' t stand in need of
ON TO THE GOLDEN GATE. 279
help at present. If we ever do, we won't for-
get your kind offer."
''That's right. You shall be heartily wel-
come to anything I have."
The two partners went to the hotel and
stayed overnight. They were pleased to think
that no one suspected them of having been for-
tunate. There were some friends — l^Tahum
Stockton, for instance — to whom they would
have been willing to communicate it, but they
considered it advisable, on the whole, to keep
the matter a profound secret.
The next morning Grant took the stage for
Sacramento, and arrived there without any ex-
citing adventure.
''Go and see father and mother, Grant,"
said Tom. "Don't tell them too much, but let
them know that I am making a living, and have
no cause to complain."
Mr. Cooper had Just finished shoeing a
horse, when Grant walked up to the shop.
"Why, Grant Colburn !" exclaimed the
blacksmith, "it's good to see you. But — "
and here he surveyed Grant's attire — " you look
kind of seedy, don't you 1 "
280 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
"Yes," lauglied Grant; "but there are no
good tailors' sliops where I have been working."
" Have you come to Sacramento to work?"
"Ko. I am bound for San Francisco. Mr.
Crosmont has sent for me."
"How did you leave Tom?" asked Mrs.
Cooper, who had entered the shop, as she
shook hands with Grant.
*' Well and hearty, Mrs. Cooper."
" Why didn't he come with you ? "
" Mr. Crosmont didn't send for him."
" How is he doing ? "
" Well, he isn't exactly a millionnaire yet,"
answered Grant, with a laugh.
"I'm afraid not, if we're to judge by ap-
pearances," and Mr. Cooper shook his head, as
he bestowed another glance on Grant's outfit.
" He'd much better give up this notion of gold-
digging and come back here in the shop with
me."
"But at mining you may strike it rich any
day, you know," returned Grant cheerfully.
" Tom has really reason to feel encouraged,
and may surprise you by making his fortune
yet."
ON TO THE GOLDEl^ GATE. 281
*^ Those aint tlie kind of surprises tliat grow-
on every bush," and Mr. Cooper once more
sagely shook his head.
After accepting of the hospitality of the
kindly blacksmith and his wife^ Grant pro-
ceeded on his journey.
He was lucky enough to secure the only re-
maining seat in the next coach for San Fran-
cisco, and was soon started on the last stage of
his progress toward the Golden Gate. Of his
fellow passengers two were miners, two farm-
ers, one a school-teacher, another a boy of
about Grant's age, and the seventh a black-
eyed gentleman, who listened attentively to all
that was said, but made very few remarks him-
self.
Grant was glad to find his place next to the
youngest member of the party, who gave his
name as Robert Campbell, and stated that he
had been on a visit to a relative in Sacramento.
*'I trust we don't fall in with the road
agents," remarked one of the miners, soon
after they had got under way.
" Why, do you think there is any danger of
it ? " inquired the school-teacher anxiously.
282 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
" Well, that's one of the things we may ex-
pect on such a trip as we are taking," returned
the miner, adding: ^Td much prefer they
wouldn't make me liold up my hands this
time, howeyer.''
CHAPTER XXXIV.
A STAETLING INCIDEISTT.
THE passengers in the stage now compared
notes, and each gave an idea of the
amount of his possessions. One of the miners
owned up to five hundred dollars, another to
eight hundred, and the teacher to two hun-
dred. The farmers were still better provided.
'Tve got about fifteen hundred myself,''
said the black-eyed passenger. ''Of course it
belongs to my principal, not to me, but I shall
be held responsible if I am robbed."
'' The boys haven't spoken," said one of the
miners, jestingly. ' ' Who knows but they may
be the richest in the crowd."
Robert laughed.
*' If the road agent comes along," he said,
" he'll get so much from me," and he produced
twenty dollars in gold.
''I've got so much," said Grant, producing
three quarter eagles, fifteen dollars.
963
284 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
" You are better off tlian I thought," said
Robert.
** I didn't think to include my wardrobe,"
added Grant.
**If you won't be offended," said Robert, ^' I
have a suit in San Francisco that is better than
yours. We are not far from the same size. I
am sure my father will let me give it to you."
Grant grasped his hand cordially.
*' You're a good fellow, Rob, and a true
friend," he said. ^'If my friend in San Fran-
cisco doesn't provide for me, I will accept your
offer with thanks."
*^My friend," said one of the farmers, ad-
dressing the teacher, *' I take it you have been
at the mines."
**Yes, sir."
** You don't look very rugged, and I see you
have a bad cough. Wouldn't it suit you bet-
ter to get some work in the city ? "
'* Perhaps you are right. I thought a life in
the open air would improve my health, but I
overestimated my strength. My lungs are
weak, and bending over weakened me and
brought on a hemorrhage."
A STARTLING IKCIDETTT. 285
** I take it you have never done hard work."
**No; I was for fifteen years a teacher in
Connecticut."
** A brother of mine has a real estate office in
'Frisco. He wanted me to be his clerk, but I
would rather be my own boss. If you would
like the chance, I will recommend you to
him."
"Thank you," said the teacher. **I have
been feeling anxious about the future now that
I find a miner's life is too hard for me. If your
brother will take me, I will gladly enter his
employment."
"Were you ever a miner?" asked a pas-
senger of the black-eyed man.
"No ; I never dug for gold. I travel for a
firm in San Francisco."
"Indeed! What firm? I am pretty well
acquainted in 'Frisco."
The black-eyed man smiled and shrugged
his shoulders.
"My employers have cautioned me to be ret-
icent about their business," he said. " Still,
before we part company, I may introduce
myself."
286 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
"Oh, just as you wish!" said the pas-
senger, not altogether pleased.
'* Did any of you ever see Stephen Dike?"
asked one of the miners, addressing himself
generally.
One by one answered in the negative, till
the turn came to the black-eyed man.
"I once caught a glimpse of him," he
said.
"What was his appearance ? " asked one of
the farmers.
"He looked to me like that gentleman,"
and the speaker indicated the consumptive
teacher.
This remark naturally led to a critical ex-
amination of the teacher, and the man next to
him, on the impulse of the moment, moved a
little farther away.
"You are sure you are not the man?"
asked one of the farmers jocosely.
The teacher smiled.
"If I am," he said, "I don't think you
would any of you feel very much afraid of
me. I suspect that I shouldn't be a success
as a road agent. I haven't the necessary
A STARTLING INCIDENT. 287
physique. You are better equipped by nature
for it tlian I."
'^Tve got considerable muscle, that's a
fact," said the farmer, who was a broad-
shouldered, stalwart man. **But you don't
often find men of my build in the ranks of
these gentry. They are more apt to be — well,
like our friend here," and he laid his hand on
the shoulder of the black-eyed man.
**You compliment me," said the latter,
opening his mouth and showing a set of yery
white teeth. '^I will tell my employer, when
I reach 'Frisco, that I have been compared to
Stephen Dike."
**No offence, my friend ! "
'^None is taken. Indeed, I do consider it
rather a compliment, for Dike is quite cele-
brated in his line."
"Better be quite unknown than to be cele-
brated in that way ! " observed the teacher.
*'You have doubtless often remarked that
to your pupils during your career as a peda-
gogue," said the black-eyed man, with a
sneer.
*' It is quite possible that I may have done
288 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
SO," answered tlie teacher calmly. "You
agree to it, don't you ? '*
"Oh, certainly!"
" Speaking of Dike," remarked one of the
miners, "a cousin of mine was returning from
the mines, a year ago, with a thousand dollars
in gold-dust — representing six months' hard
labor — when the wagon on which he was a
passenger was stopped by this rascal. My
cousin was not armed, nor was either of the
three other passengers, and Dike, though
single-handed, had no trouble in robbing
them all."
'^What," exclaimed one of the farmers,
" did four men give in to one ? "
" One man with two revolvers is a match for
half a dozen unarmed men."
"I don't agree to that," said the farmer.
"I should be everlastingly mortified if I
allowed one man to take such an advantage of
me, if I had as many companions."
"You think so," said the black-eyed man,
with a half sneer, " but if you were placed in
like circumstances you would act just as he
did."
A STARTLING INCIDENT. 289
*'You think so,'' said the farmer in his
turn.
"I know so."
"You are very confident. On what do you
base your remark ?"
*'On human nature."
The farmer looked at him curiously.
*^Well, perhaps you are right," he said.
Then turning to the miner, he asked : "Well,
did your cousin lose all his gold-dust ?"
"Yes ; every ounce of it."
"That was hard lines."
"It was, indeed. The poor fellow had been
in the country a year. During the first six
months he hadn't a particle of luck. During
the next six months he made the money
referred to. With it he intended to go home
and lift a mortgage from the house in which
he lived. But when he saw the fruit of his
hard labor forcibly wrested from him, he
became discouraged, took to drink, and died
of delirium tremens in 'Frisco three months
since."
" It was a hard case ! " said the farmer in a
tone of sympathy.
19
290 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
*'It was, indeed. That scoundrel, Stephen
Dike, I hold responsible for my poor consin's
death. There is one thing I live for,'^ and
here he paused.
**Well?" said the black-eyed man.
** What is it?"
**I want to meet the villain who killed
him."
*' Suppose you should ? "
*' I would shoot him down like a dog."
*'That is, if you got the chance," said the
other, with an unpleasant smile.
** I would see that I had the chance if I ever
met him."
*' Threatened men live long."
*^Look here!" broke in the farmer, eying
the black-eyed man sharply. ''You appear
to take the part of this road agent."
''Do I? Well, it is natural to me to take
the part of one against many. You all seem
to be down on poor Dike."
'''Poor Dike ! Isn't there good reason why
we should be down upon him ? ' '
"I don't know. Probably the man has
some good qualities."
A STARTLING INCIDENT. 291
" Not one ! '' exclaimed the miner wlio had
told his cousin's story. '* Not one ! "
** Well, well ; you seem to know him. Con-
sidering how free we have been with his name,
it would be a great joke if we should have him
stop us on our way."
*' I don't think it would be a joke at all,"
said Robert.
"Nor I!" added Grant.
**0h, he wouldn't meddle with jou boys,"
said the black-eyed man. **He would fly at
higher game ; for instance, our friend there,
and there," indicating the farmer and the
miner.
"I suppose you speak with authority?"
observed the farmer.
" What do you mean ? "
" You speak as if you were in this fellow's
confidence."
'*Do you mean to insult me?" exclaimed
the black-eyed man angrily.
'*0h, calm yourself, my friend! Why
should I mean it that way ? You can't take a
a joke."
"Oh, if it's a joke, I don't mind."
292 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
Then the talk about the famous road agent
subsided. Gradually they passed beyond the
limits of population, and entered a mountain
defile, dark with frowning hills on each side.
** Let me get out a minute ! " said the black-
eyed man, signalling to the driver.
The stage stopped. Once upon the ground
the black-eyed passenger drew out his revolv-
ers, and levelling them at the astonished
travellers, cried: **Hold up your hands,
gentlemen ; get ready to surrender all your
valuables. I am Stephen Dike / "
CHAPTER XXXV,
A TEAGEDY.
I HAVE said that the passengers were aston-
ished at discovering that the notorious
road agent was their fellow-traveller. There
were two, however, who were not wholly sur-
prised— the miner who had related his cousin's
story and the farmer who had had a sharp
colloquy with the black-eyed man.
For a minute no one moved or spoke.
''Come," said Dike impatiently; ''I have
no time to waste. Give me your money.''
''Do you want mine?" asked Grant, who
was entirely willing to give up the small
amount of gold coin he had with him, if he
could save the dust in his valise.
"No ; I don't care for the trifle you have,
nor the other boy's money, but those miners
over there must give up their treasure, and my
agricultural friends also."
294 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
** If you want my money, come and get it ! "
growled tlie miner already referred to.
*^I say the same," added the farmer.
"I will stand no nonsense," said Stephen
Dike.
"It's hard luck," grumbled the miner, **to
give up all my hard earnings."
**Give up your money, and grumble after-
ward," rejoined Dike.
The miner thrust his hand into his pocket,
and than, in an excited voice, exclaimed sud-
denly, as he peered out of the coach, *^Ha,
friends ! there is help approaching. See ! "
And he pointed, with outstretched finger, be-
yond Stephen Dike.
The road agent, taken by surprise, turned
quickly. The step was fatal to him. The
miner, who had pulled a revolver from his
pocket, fired without an instant's delay, and
Stephen Dike fell backward, instantly killed.
The miner's bullet had penetrated his temple.
So unexpected was the assault that the road
agent had not even time to discharge his own
pistols. They fell upon the ground from his
A TRAGEDY. 295
nerveless hands, and one of them accidentally
went off, but did no harm.
"My consin is avenged 1" exclaimed the
miner grimly.
" Give me your hand, sir ! " said the farmer.
"You have saved us all, and rid the State
of California of the most dangerous outlaw
within its limits."
" It seems hard to rejoice in the death of a
fellow-being," observed the teacher, "but no
one can grieve over the taking off of such a
man. G-entlemen, let us remove the body to
some place less public."
The passengers got out, and were joined by
the driver.
" There is a reward of five thousand dollars
offered by the authorities for the capture of
Stephen Dike, dead or alive," he said.
" What gentleman killed him ? "
" I did," answered the miner ; '^ but I want
no reward. I should look upon it as blood
money. What I did, I did in defence of my
fellow-passengers and myself."
Stephen Dike lay upon the ground, his
296 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
features still wearing the cynical smile habitual
to him. Death had come upon him so sud-
denly that there had not been time even . to
change the expression of his face.
*'I suppose this man has committed many
robberies?" said the teacher to the stage-
driver.
**No one knows how many, but he has
robbed my stage four times."
'*How did it happen that you did not recog-
nize him when he booked as a passenger ? ' '
*'He has always worn a mask when I saw
Mm before. This time he became bolder, and
presented himself without disguise. I remem-
ber being struck by his appearance, and won-
dering whether I had not met him before, but
it did not occur to me that it was the famous
road agent, Stephen Dike."
The passengers took the lifeless body, and
drew it to one side of the road.
*' Ought we not to bury it ?" asked the
teacher.
'' I can't bear to put beneath the sod a man
who, but fifteen minutes since, was as full of
life as we are. Let us leave that office to
A TRAGEDY. 297
some one else. We can affix to the tree, be-
neath which he lies, a paper giving his name."
This proposal was approved. One of the
passengers produced a sheet of paper and a
travelling inkstand, and this placard was af-
fixed to the trunk of the tree :
This man is
STEPHEN DIKE,
THE ROAD AGENT.
Killed while attempting to rob the Sacramento coach.
*'We ought, perhaps, to examine his
pockets, and see if we can find anything to
throw light on his career."*
This was the suggestion of one of the pas-
sengers.
"!N^o," said the miner; "leave that to the
persons who may find him. If he has money
about him, leave it to others. I have been the
instrument of Heaven's retribution. Should I
take anything of value from him, I would be
degraded to his own level."
This remark seemed to voice the general sen-
timent, and, after an interval of only ten min-
utes, the stage was again on its way to San
Francisco.
298 DiaaiNG for gold.
Grrant and Robert were strongly impressed
by what had happened. IS'eitlier of them had
ever seen a death by violence before.
'*It's awful ! " said Robert, shuddering.
*' But he deserved his fate," returned Grant.
'* So he did ; but it is terrible to have death
come so suddenly."
'' You are right, lad ! " said the miner. ^' I
feel entirely justified in what I did, but it was
a fearful necessity. It is something I shall
never be able to forget."
There was no further adventure to record in
the two days' ride. Toward nightfall of the
second day they reached the city of the Grolden
Gate, and the passengers separated. Grant
regretted parting with Robert Campbell, to
whom he had become warmly attached, but
was glad to think they would have opportuni-
ties of meeting in San Francisco.
Before separating, he undeceived Robert as
to his circumstances.
** I suppose," he said, *' you think me very
poor ? "
"I wouldn't judge from your clothes that
you were wealthy," returned Robert, smiling.
A TEAGEDy. 299
*' That's why I wear them. In this valise
which I carry, I have about fifteen hundred
dollars in gold-dust."
^* You don't mean it ! " exclaimed Eobert in
surprise.
'* Yes ; but only half of it belongs to me. I
have more at the mines, however. I feared to
be robbed, and so put on the appearance of a
tramp. Now, I shall buy a respectable
suit."
*' I am glad you are able to do so ; but even
in your poor clothes I was glad to have met
you."
*' Thank you, Eob. We have known each
other but two days, but I shall ahvays look
upon you as a friend."
The two boys shook hands cordially, and
Grant set out in the direction of the Alameda
Hotel. Before he arrived there, he saw Mr.
Crosmont walking thoughtfully through Kear-
ney Street, with his eyes fixed upon the ground.
'*Mr. Crosmont ! " he exclaimed eagerly.
Gfiles Crosmont looked up quickly, and his
face brightened as he recognized Grant.
'* Grant Colburn ! " he cried joyfully, seizing
300 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
the boy by the hand. ** I am, indeed, glad to
see you. When did yon arrive ? "
"Just now, by stage from Sacramento."
'*And you are well? But I see you are.
You don't look prosperous ; but that doesn't
matter. With me you will want for nothing.".
"Mr. Crosmont," said Grant smiling, "you
shouldn't judge a man, or boy, by his clothes.
Do you see this valise? "
"Well?"
" It contains fifteen hundred dollars' worth
of gold-dust."'
"Yours?"
"Half of it is mine. Half of it belongs to
my partner. I wore old clothes, because I did
not want to be thought rich."
" Was there need of all this caution ? "
" You shall judge for yourself. Our stage
was held up by Stephen Dike."
" The daring road agent? I have heard of
him. Did he plunder the passengers ? "
Grant explained the ruse by which Stephen
Dike had lost his life.
"He was a scoundrel ! I have no pity for
him. And now come with me^ and I will take
A TEAGEDY. 301
you to my home. I have two rooms, and I
shall install you in one of them.'^
** How about my gold-dust ? "
* * As soon as you have washed, and are pro-
vided with a new suit, I will take you to a
banker, who will weigh and allow you the
market price for it."
'^ But I shall have no money to pay for the
suit till I have sold the dust."
Mr. Crosmont smiled.
**The suit will be a present from me," he
said.
And no small present it proved to be, for
clothing was very dear in San Francisco at
that time, so that a ready-made suit, which
could be bought in any Eastern city for twenty
dollars, or less, cost ninety.
The gold-dust brought a trifle over fifteen
hundred dollars, which was entered to Grant's
account on the books of the bank.
**Have you any letters for me, Mr. Cros-
mont ? " asked Grant. '' I haven't heard from
home for a long time."
''Here is a letter which arrived by the last
steamer."
302 DIGGINa FOE GOLD.
Grrant read it eagerly. It was from his
mother, and contained important news. In-
stead of reproducing the letter, we will go back
to Grant's Iowa home, and let the reader know
what happened there since he started for the
land of gold.
CHAPTER XXX VI.
THE TARBOX FAMILY.
A FTEE Grant's departure his mother felt
-jLjL very lonely. She found very little satis-
faction in the company of her husband, who
became more miserly as he grew older. He be-
gan also to show signs of breaking health, and
this did not escape the vigilant eyes of his
daughter, Mrs. Sophia Bartlett, and her hus-
band. They were not at all insensible to the
fact that their father's property was a snug
one, Jtnd that it would make them very com-
fortable when added to their own.
Sophia Bartlett began to feel suspicious that
her father's second wife would attempt, by un-
due influence, to obtain more than her share of
the estate. At least once a week she was ac-
customed to drive over with her son Eodney,
when her husband was occupied by business,
and learn all she could of what was going on at
the Tarbox farm.
303
304 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
Rodney generally inquired after Grant, but
not from friendly motives.
Some months after Grant's departure one of
tliese visits was in progress.
*'Have you heard from Grant, Mrs. Tar-
box 1" he asked, for it was in this way he
always addressed his grandfather's wife.
'*I heard last week," answered Grant's
mother.
'* How is he getting along ? "
''He had just arrived in California. The
journey across the plains is a long and tedious
one."
''Did he have anything to do? "
" He was expecting work."
" Probably he won't get any," said Seth Tar-
box. "The boy made a fool of himself when
he left home. He might have had a good livin'
here, but he was sot on tramj^in' to Califor-
nia."
"That's the way I feel," said Sophia Bartlett.
"Young folks don't know what is best for
themselves. As likely as not the boy will be
sending home for money to get back."
"He won't get none from me," muttered Mr.
THE TAEBOX FAMILY. 305
Tarbox emphatically, ''and I want tliat under-
stood."
''He isn't very likely to send to you, Mr.
Tarbox," said his wife, indignant at this attack
upon Grant.
' ' I dunno about that. He' s a headstrong boy,
and always was."
" I am glad that my son Rodney is a good
and dutiful boy, and is willing to be guided by
my advice and his grandfather's."
Rodney understood that it was well to keep
in the good graces of his grandfather, who
might remember him handsomely in his will,
and tried to look virtuous and meek.
"Yes," he said, "grandfather knows what
is best for me."
"Rodney's case is very different," Mrs. Tar-
box could not help saying. "His future is
provided for, Grant had nothing to look for-
ward to here except the life of a farm laborer."
"Is he too proud to work on a farm?"
sneered Mrs. Bartlett.
" No more than your son Rodney," calmly re-
plied Mrs. Tarbox.
"I've got something better to do than to
20
306 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
work on a farm," said Eodney, in a lofty tone.
*^ Just fancy me in overalls, ma ! "
" To be sure ! " cMmed in his mother.
^'It aint no disgrace to wear overalls," said
Seth Tarbox, who did not aspire to be thought
genteel, like his daughter and Rodney.
'^ Of course not, pa ! " said Mrs. Bartlett, in
a conciliatory tone. ''You are a substantial
farmer, and find it necessary to superintend
your own work."
" I hope Eodney aint got no foolish notions
about bein' too high-toned for honest work."
"No, pa; but Rodney isn't rugged, and his
father and myself mean to make a lawyer of
him."
*' Humph! Some lawyers aint worth their
salt."
''That's the case with some farmers, too,
isn't it ? " returned his daughter.
"I own you're right, Sophia. Why, there's
Bill Jones is gettin' poorer and poorer every
year. I've got a thousand-dollar mortgage on
his farm," he chuckled, "and I guess I'll have
to foreclose sooner or later."
" What will become of Mrs. Jones and her
THE TAEBOX FAMILY. . 307
young cMldren ? " asked Mrs. Tarbox, in a tone
of pity.
'^That aint my lookout," said Seth Tarbox,
in a hard tone.
*'But surely you wouldn't turn the poor
woman out into the street."
'*It aint for me to look out for another
man's wife and children, Mrs. T.," returned the
farmer.
*'But the farm must be worth a good deal
more than the amount of your mortgage ! "
''Yes," chuckled the farmer, "it's well
worth three thousand dollars. So much the
better for me ! "
''You wouldn't take possession of it, and
take such an advantage of the family !"
"Mrs. T., you don't understand business.
When you talk in that way you only make
yourself ridiculous. You'd better leave me to
attend to business, and you look after the
housekeeping," and he turned to his daughter
for approval.
"You are right, pa," said Sophia, "and
Mrs. Tarbox, though she means well, shows
that she doesn't understand business."
308 DiGGiisra foe gold.
Mrs. Tarbox bit her lip, but did not reply.
She had made the discovery long since that
the daughter was as cold and selfish as the
father, and probably even more so.
"Mrs. Tarbox, have you got Grant's last
letter ? " asked Rodney.
"Yes."
" Would you mind letting me read it ?"
Mrs. Tarbox hesitated a moment, and then
replied: "A part of it is private, but I will
read you the part in which he speaks of his
position and prospects."
" Thank you. I would like to hear it."
Mrs. Tarbox took from her pocket a letter
which she had perused half a dozen times
already, and read as follows :
*' Well, mother, I have at last reached California. It
is a long and tiresome journey across the plains. I
hope, when I go back, I shall be able to go by steamer to
New York. However, I made some pleasant friends on
the way, and I have good courage, though my money
is nearly out."
"Humph!" interrupted Seth Tarbox;
" just as I expected."
** Grant didn't take a fortune with him,"
said his mother. ' ' How could you expect he
THE TAEBOX FAMILY. 809
would have much, money left when he reached
the end of his Journey ? "
''1 didn't, Mrs. T. That is whafc I said.
Read on."
*' I haven't decided yet what I will do first. I expect
sometime to go to the gold fields, but I may get a posi-
tion first and earn some money to buy my outfit. I am
well and strong, and I am sure I can make a living
some way."
''Mark my words," said Sophia Bartlett,
''the time will come when your son will wish
he had never left the farm."
"I don't feel sure of that," said Mrs. Tar-
box. ' ' Grrant is a manly boy, and he can
work in California just as well as here, and
will be paid better than here."
"Do you mean to say that I didn't pay the
boy enough for his work, Mrs. T. ? "
"I will express no opinion on that subject.
California is a new country, where labor is
naturally more highly compensated than
here."
"I am glad I am not in Grant's place," said
Rodney.
" So am I," added his mother; "but you
always had good judgment, Rodney."
310 DIGGING FOB GOLD.
^^ I hope SO. When I am a man I may go to
California, just to see the country, but I prefer
to stay at home now"
'' He has an old head on young shoulders,"
said his mother complacently.
*'It's my birthday to-morrow, grandpa,"
observed Rodney significantly.
**Is it?" asked Seth Tarbox. **How old
are you ? "
'' Sixteen."
*^ Well, well, I didn't know you were get-
ting on so fast. There's a quarter for a birth-
day present."
Rodney accepted the coin, but turned up his
nose at his grandfather's niggardliness, and
expressed himself freely on the subject to his
mother on the way home.
*'What a mean old skinflint grandfather
is!" he exclaimed. ^'Twenty-five cents, and
he a rich man ! "
* ' Hush, Rodney, don' t let any one hear you
speak in that way ! "
*' But he is mean ! you can't deny it ! "
** He is close," said Mrs. Bartlett can-
THE TAEBOX FAMILY. 311
tiously. "Most farmers are, I believe; but
just wait patiently, and the money which he
has saved by his economy will come to us.
You must seem grateful, or he may take a
notion to leave his property to Mrs. Tarbox
and Grant."
" Oh, ril be careful, ma, never fear ! I hope
Grant Colburn won't get a cent."
'* I don't think he will. In fact, I feel sure
of it."
"Do you think Mrs. Tarbox will get
much?"
" Not if I can prevent it ! " said his mother,
closing her lips firmly.
" I expect she only married the old man for
his money."
" I suppose she wanted a home for herself
and Grant."
" Will the law give her anything 1 "
" Yes ; but I've thought of a way to get
over that."
"What is it, ma?"
'*If I can induce your grandfather to
make a deed of gift to me of his property be-
312 DIGGIITG FOE GOLD.
fore he dies, on condition of my supporting
him the rest of his life, that will evade the
law."
**That will be a good idea. I shouldn't
wonder if Grant and his mother had to go to
the poorhouse at last. He'd come down off
his high horse then."
'^ I hope not. Mrs. Tarbox can get employ-
ment as a housekeeper probably, and Grant
ought to be able to support himself. Of
course they must look out for themselves."
Not long afterward, unfortunately for Mrs.
Tarbox, her husband lost fifty dollars. He
had sold a horse to a man in a neighboring
town for an excessive price, and fifty dollars
remained due on the purchase money. This
the purchaser refused to pay, and as his prop-
erty was all in his wife's name, Setli Tarbox
was unable to collect it, although, as may be
imagined, he moved heaven and earth to ac-
complish it.
This made him feel very poor, and he deter-
mined to make it up by retrenchment in his
personal expenses. Had the economy fallen
upon himself he might have been justified, but
THE TAEBOX FAMILY. 313
as it occurred to Mm that by dismissing the
woman who helped his wife on washing day
he could save seventy-five cents a week, he was
mean enough to make this proposal.
Mrs. Tarbox could hardly believe him in
earnest, for she saw only too clearly at what he
was aiming.
CHAPTER XXXYIL
MES. BAETLETT's LITTLE SCHEME.
*"T~^0 you mean that I am to get along with-
-L' out Nancy, Mr. Tarbox?" Mrs. Tarbox
said quickly.
^Tve met with losses, Mrs. T.," replied
Seth, ''and I don't feel as if I could afford to
pay out seventy-five cents eveiy Monday for
vrork that might as well be done in the
family."
'' Does that mean that you expect me to do
it, Mr. Tarbox?"
''Ahem ! " said Tarbox, a little embarrassed.
"It's your duty to help bear my burden." .
" I think I do that. I am sure that I work
beyond my strength."
"We all have to work. Don't I work in
the fields, Mrs. Tarbox ? "
" You choose to do it. You are able to lead
an easier life."
3U
MRS. BAETLETT'S LITTLE SCHEME. 315
*' Who says I am?"
'^Everybody in the village knows that you
are well to do, and have a large sum in the
savings-bank."
Seth Tarbox frowned.
*'If I have got a little money ahead," he
said, ''I don't mean to squander it in extrav-
agant living."
"I don't think you are in any danger of
it," remarked Mrs. Tarbox dryly.
Mr. Tarbox left the house, and made it in
his way to call at the home of Wancy Stokes
and give her notice that her services would
not be needed on the coming Monday.
I^ancy opened her eyes in surprise.
''Why, Mr. Tarbox," she said, "I've been
goin' to your house for ten years. Have you
got any other woman in my place ? "
''No, Miss Stokes; but I've been thinkin'
that I can't afford to pay seventy-five cents
a week for washin' . "
"Why, you haven't failed, have you, Mr.
Tarbox?"
"No; but I've met with losses," answered
Seth vaguely.
316 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
**They must be big losses if you can't afford
the little money you've paid me."
** You may call it little, Nancy, but seventy-
five cents a week amounts in a year to thirty-
nine dollars."
''It'll take more'n one tMrty-nine dollars to
break you, Mr. Tarbox."
'' You seem to know a good deal about my
affairs, Nancy. I'm the best judge of that."
*' Who's goin' to do the washin', then ? "
''Mrs. Tarbox will do it."
"The whole of it?"
"Yes ; my first wife used to do it."
"And died of broken health at forty."
Seth Tarbox did not relish the plain speak-
ing of Miss Stokes, and turning on his heel,
walked away.
Nancy made it a point to call at the farm
during the day.
"I hear, Mrs. Tarbox," she said, "that
you are going to do all the washing here-
after."
"Who told you.?" asked Mrs. Tarbox
quickly.
"Mr. Tarbox."
MKS. BARTLETT'S LITTLE SCHEME. 317
"He is mistaken," said Mrs. Tarbox calmly.
*'I shall do notliing of the kind."
''He expects it."
''I can't help that."
"Good for you, Mrs. Tarbox. Don't let
him impose upon you. He's too mean to
live."
The next Monday Seth Tarbox went out to
his farm work in a complacent frame of mind.
His wife had said nothing of the washing, and
he concluded that when she found JN'ancy ab-
sent, she would turn to and do the whole her-
self. But when he returned to dinner he
looked in vain for the clothes line.
"You're late about your washin', Mrs. T.,"
he said, as he entered the kitchen.
" I am not going to wash, Mr. Tarbox."
" How's that ? You can't get along without
having the clothes washed."
"I intend to wash my own, but I don't pro-
pose to do the rest."
" Wh-what?" ejaculated Seth, in dismay.
"You have taken it upon yourself to dis-
charge Kancy. If the clothes remain un-
washed, you are responsible."
318 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
*' But, Mrs. T., my first wife used to do all
the washing. She didn' t have Nancy to help
her."
'^ What your first wife did does not concern
me. I do not propose to follow in her foot-
steps and die of overwork, as she did."
''It seems to me, Mrs. T., you don't realize
your duty as helpmeet to your husband."
''And I don't propose to, if it requires me to
work beyond my strength."
"If you do all the washing this week,
I^ancy may come to your assistance next
Monday as usual."
"I decline to do it."
Seth Tarbox found that he was checkmated,
and was obliged to make a second call upon
Miss Stokes and countermand his first notice.
But he felt very much dissatisfied, and the
next day called on his daughter and laid the
matter before her.
"I am not surprised," said Sophia. "Of
course Mrs. Tarbox married you for your
money. She expects you will leave her a
good slice of your estate."
" She'll be disappointed," said Seth angrily.
MES. EARTLETT'S LITTLE SCHEME. 319
*' I don't know about that. Have you made
a will?"
''No; why should I? You don't expect
I'm going to die right off, do you ? "
''ISTo; but still, life is uncertain. If you
don't leave a will, the law will give her some-
thing."
"Perhaps I shall live longer than she
does."
''Perhaps so, but she is twenty years
younger than you. When she gets your
money, she and her boy will have fine times."
"Can't that be prevented ? " asked Seth.
"There is one way."
" What is that 1 "
"I hardly like to tell."
"Out with it, Sophia!"
"If you should make me a deed of gift of
the property — at any rate, of the real estate —
she couldn't do anything."
"But I don't want to give the farm away."
"Oh, it would only be a mere form.
Things would go on just the same as before.
But it would put a spoke in your wife's
wheel. Of course, pa, you know that I
320 DIGGINa FOR GOLD.
wouldn't take any advantage of what you did.
It makes me laugh, though, to think how you
would come up with that mercenary woman."
'^Just so," chuckled Seth. ''Well, I'll
think of it."
''That's the first step," reflected Mrs. Bart-
lett. " !N"ow I know how to work on pa's feel-
ings, it won't be long before he'll adopt my
plan."
From that time Sophia lost no opportunity
to enlarge to her father on his wife's expecta-
tions of profiting by his death, till at last she
accomplished her purpose. One day she and
her father called at a lawyer's office, and the
deed of gift was made out, and Mrs. Bartlett
took charge of the document.
"Mrs. Tarbox won't know anything of
this," she said. " We'll keep it secret, pa."
"Yes, we'll keep it secret."
"If she knew, you'd find it hard to get as
much work out of her."
"That's so ! " chuckled Seth.
He would not have felt as well pleased had
he known what a power he had put into the
hands of his daughter.
MES. BARTLETT's LITTLE SCHEME. 321
We will now reproduce the letter which
Grant received from his mother. After ex-
pressing the hope that he was in good health,
and had something to do, she went on :
I am very unpleasantly situated at present, Giaant.
A week ago Mr. Tarbox fell from a scaffold in the barn,
and broke his leg. His daughter, Mrs. Bartlett, on
hearing of it, came to the house with Rodney, and has
taken possession of the sick chamber. I am kept out of
it, though his wife. I won't pretend that it hurts my
feelings, but I don't like to be treated as a servant in the
house of which I ought to be the mistress. Mrs. Bart-
lett treats me with very little respect, and I have reason
to think that she means to influence Mr. Tarbox to leave
all his property to her. This would be a very poor
return for all I have done since I married him. As you
know, it was chiefly on your account that I did so. If
you were doing well, I would not mind so much, but I
can hardly hope that a boy like you can earn much
among strangers.
Gfrant showed this letter to Mr. Crosmont.
'^ Write to your mother," said the English-
man, "that she need feel no anxiety about
you or herself. I will see that neither of you
is in want."
Grant accordingly wrote a letter to his
mother that raised her spirits and gave her
hope for the future.
21
ii
N
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
FINDING THE PEODIGAL.
OW," said Mr. Crosmont on the morn-
ing after Grant's arrival, *'I have
some work for you to do."
''I am glad of it, sir," replied Grant. **I
should be homesick if I were idle."
*'I have great faith in the future of
San Francisco," continued the Englishman.
*'Real estate is sure to make rapid advances,
and I am investing in lots all over the city.
By the way, you are the owner of two lots on
this street."
''You are very kind, Mr. Crosmont," said
Grant gratefully.
"I mean to be. The lots are of large size,
and only cost fifty dollars apiece. I could
sell them for double that sum to-day, though
I bought them only two months since. How
much money have you belonging to Cooper
and yourself I
B2Si
FINDING THE PRODIGAL. 323
" Fifteen hundred dollars."
*^I advise you to invest a thousand in lots,
under my direction."
'^You can invest the whole, sir. Tom
Cooper has seven hundred dollars left in gold-
dust, and that will be all the reserve we
need."
*'Yery well! For every dollar you invest,
I feel sure that you can get five within a com-
paratively short time."
^' I will be guided by your Judgment, sir."
Grant succeeded in getting twenty lots for
his money, half of which were entered in the
name of Tom Cooper. When he had in his
possession the deeds for all his property he be-
gan to feel like a capitalist.
"I wonder what Mr. Tarbox would say if he
knew how I was fixed," thought Grant.
'* He would want to be my guardian. I shall be
glad when I can buy a nice home for my
mother away from the whole Tarbox tribe.
She works altogether too hard. If things go
well she shall have an easier time henceforth."
Mr. Crosmont opened a real estate office and
put Grant in charge. Though he was the re-
824 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
sponsible head, lie left the principal work, in-
cluding the bookkeeping, in the hands of his
protege.
*'You must have a regular salary, Grant,"
he said. '' Now, what shall it be ? "
"Anything you like, Mr. Crosmont."
"That isn't business-like. The laborer is
worthy of his hire."
" Would ten dollars a week be too much?
Then I could pay you my board."
Mr. Crosmont smiled.
"I see, Grant," he said, "you have no idea
of the value of your services. You will have
nothing to pay for board, for I consider your
society sufficient compensation. I will, be-
sides that, pay you a fixed salary of one hun-
dred and fifty dollars a month."
Grant opened his eyes in amazement.
" But, sir, you forget that I am only sixteen."
"IN'o, I don't. In London or JN'ew York 1
should be unable to pay you anything like
that sum, but here the case is different. Your
salary, however, will be small compared with
the profits you will realize on your lots."
"I won't count my chickens before they are
FINDING THE PRODIGAL. 325
hatched, Mr. Crosmont," said Grant, smil-
ing.
''That is usually the prudent course, but
you are sure to gain a good profit on your
land investment."
Of this belief Grant had a very speedy con-
firmation, for within a week he was waited
upon by a gentleman who wished to erect a
hotel, on a site a part of which was owned by
Grant and the balance by Mr. Crosmont. Mr.
Crosmont managed the negotiations, and in
the end Grant received two thousand dollars
for his two lots.
"I should like to keep that money," said
Grant, " as I may have a use for it at home."
" Yery well. You can let it out on call at
three per cent, a month. That won't pay as
well as real estate, but you will have it when
you need it."
A month later Grant received a letter from
Tom Cooper. The important part of the com-
munication was the following paragraph :
Someliow it has leaked out, I don't know how, that
our claim is unusually rich, and I have been waited
upon by a couple of New York men who have offered
me five thousand dollars for it. I think it will be well
326 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
to accept, especially as I am now alone. I have on
hand now about twelve hundred dollars in gold-dust,
which I mean to take to San Francisco myself. I shall
make arrangements to receive the money in a draft on a
San Francisco banker, and will pay you your share
when we meet. Perhaps I might make more money by
retaining the claim, but it is dull work living here alone,
though I have a good home with the Crambos. You
may expect to see me in a short time.
"I congratulate you, Grant," said Mr. Cros-
mont. "You seem to be a favorite of for-
tune."
About this time an event occurred which
calls for special mention. One evening Grant
was walking through Montgomery Street, in
the neighborhood of Telegraph Hill, when his
attention was called to a young man who was
walking in advance of him with unsteady
steps. Something in his manner led Grant to
think he was in trouble. After some hesita-
tion, he hastened his steps and touched the
stranger on the shoulder.
The other turned, and revealed the face of a
young man of perhaps twenty-seven. His ex-
pression was troubled, almost despairing.
** Can I be of any assistance to you ? " asked
Grant gently.
FINDING THE PRODIGAL. 327
*'I have eaten notliing for forty- eight
hours," said the other, in a hopeless tone. '' I
am without money and without hope."
'^Will you allow me to help you?" re-
peated Grant.
^'You have spoken the first kind words I
have listened to for weeks," said the other.
*' I should enjoy a cup of qoffee and a plate of
meat."
"Come with me, then," said Grant.
He led the way to a restaurant near by, and
ordered a plain but substantial meal. The
young man' s face brightened, as a plate of beef-
steak and a cup of coffee were placed before
him. He ate with avidity and evident appe-
tite.
When the meal was finished, he said : *' You
seem to be only a boy. What brought you to
this city?"
" I was poor and wanted to earn a living."
'' Have you prospects ? "
'' Beyond my expectations."
"I, too, came here to earn a living. I had
some money with me when I arrived, but it is
all gone now. Nothing that I took hold of
328 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
prospered. When you spoke to me I was in
despair. I was making up my mind to commit
suicide."
*'Tliat would be very foolisli — and wicked."
*' Perhaps so, but consider my situation. I
had no prospects and no money. I have none
now, but somehow when a man has filled his
stomach he feels less despondent."
*'Imay be able to put something in your
way. I came here a poor boy, but I am not
poor now."
^'And I — would you be surprised to hear
that I am the son of a rich man and the heir of
a large estate ? "
^' Yes," answered Grant, "I am surprised.
You don't look much like it. In that case I
don' t understand why you should be in this
condition."
*^ I can explain easily. I have been a prodi-
gal son. I have wasted money in folly and dis-
sipation, and alienated my father's affections."
'^ Have you seen or heard from him lately ? "
*'No."
^'Then how do you know that he is es-
tranged?"
FINJDIlSrG THE PRODIGAL. 329
*' It can hardly be otherwise. He is an hon-
orable man, and my condnct has shamed and
humiliated him."
'' It is not too late to repent and turn over a
new leaf."
'' I fear it is. At any rate, I never expect to
be reinstated in my father's favor."
''You can at any rate work for an honest
living."
"Yes, I am ready to do that, if the chance is
offered me."
"I am quite sure that you will have the
chance. I could give it to you myself, but I
have a friend here who is much better able
than I."
"You give me new hope. What is your
friend's name?"
"Giles Crosmont."
The young man started as if he had been
shot. He showed signs of excitement.
"What name did you say?" he asked.
" Repeat it."
" Giles Crosmont."
" Is he an Englishman ? "
" Yes ; he has a large estate in Devonshire.'*
330 DIGGlira FOE GOLD.
*' Great Heavens!" exclaimed tlie young
man ; " Giles Crosmont is my father."
' ' Your father ? Come, then, let me lead you
to him at once."
''No, no," said the young man, hanging
back. " He would not receive me."
" Would not receive you ? He is in Califor-
nia for the express purpose of hunting you
up."
"Are you sure of that?" asked the young
man eagerly.
''Yes ; he told me so himself."
"That is the best news I have heard for
many a day. Take me to him, then, at once."
The surprise and deep thankfulness of Mr.
Crosmont when Grant arrived with his son may
be imagined. He held out his arms without a
word, and folded the young man in his em-
brace.
" I am ashamed to come back to you, father,"
said young Crosmont, "after the way I have
behaved."
" Let us forget the past, my son," responded
the father. " Let us look forward to a bright
future!" Then, turning to Grant, he said:
FITTDINiG THE PRODIGAL. 331
*^In restoring my son to me, Grant, you
have fully paid me for all I have done for you.
You have placed me under the deepest obliga-
tions."
'' And I, too, look upon you as my guardian
angel," added young Crosmont, as he grasped
the boy's hand in his.
"It was a mere chance," said Grant mod-
estly.
" Say, rather, it was a providence," corrected
Giles Crosmont reverently.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
GRANT HEAES FROM HOME.
TOM COOPER reached San Francisco two
weeks after his letter. ^^I stopped at
Sacramento to see father," he said. '' I found
the old gentleman doing well, and fully per-
suaded that I had made a mistake in not stay-
ing with him. He offered me four dollars a
day to work in the shop. When I told him
that I owned ten lots in San Francisco, was
entitled to two thousand ^ve hundred dollars
for my share of the claim, and had consider-
able loose money besides, you ought to have
seen him open his eyes. He was speechless
for a minute ; then he said : ^ You're smarter
than I thought, Tom. I guess you'd better go
your own way, and I will look after the shop.
I'm too old to dig for gold, but I am making a
good living at my trade.'
33S
«rRANT HEARS FROM HOME. 333
Tom cashed a check for five thousand
dollars, and made over half to Grant.
*' There's some more money due yon,
Grant," he said, ''from the gold-dust I have
brought with me."
*'Keep it all, Tom," rejoined Grant. '*I
am rich enough without it, and you deserve
some commission for selling the claim."
Tom objected to this at first, but Grant in-
sisted upon it. Tom took possession of his
lots, and sold three on very advantageous
terms within a month.
''I think you brought me luck. Grant," he
said. ''Till you joined me I was plodding
along comfortably, but making little more
than I could have done at my trade. But
after you and I began to work together in
double harness, everything has prospered with
me."
"!N"ot just at first, Tom. You remember
our small earnings at Howe's Gulch."
"That's true, but prosperity came after-
ward. It was your meeting old Mr. Gilbert
that set us on our feeto"
" How is he ? Did you call on him ? "
334 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
" Yes. He is pretty well for Mm, but what
a forlorn life lie leads ! Do you know he
thinks a great deal of you ? "
''I thought he did."
'*He inquired particularly after you, and
said you were a fine boy."
**It is well to have one admiring friend,"
said Grant, smiling.
'' You have many friends who are attached
to you," returned Tom.
^'I have certainly received much kindness,"
said Grant. ''I seem to be appreciated con-
siderably more here than at home."
''How are things going on at home ? "
" ^D^ot very well. Mr. Tarbox is sick, and his
daughter has installed herself in his chamber,
and is not willing that my mother should see
him."
" Does that trouble you ? "
'' No, for I am able to provide for mother
better than her husband. When I go back I
shall establish her in a home of her own."
The very next day Grant received a letter
from his mother, the contents of which were
most important.
GRANT HEAES FROM HOME. 335
We reproduce it here :
Deah Grant :
Mr. Tarbox died last week. No one anticipated that
his sickness would end fatally, but I attribute it to worry
of mind. It appears that his daughter, Mrs. Bartlett,
succeeded some time since in inducing him to deed the
farm to her. I believe the argument she used was, that
should he die, I would claim a good share of it as his
widow. The law would no doubt have given me a claim
to some portion of it.
Mr. Tarbox had scarcely given away the property than
he repented it, and tried to persuade Sophia to give it
back. She didn't exactly ret use, for she knew that he
had considerable other property which he could leave
her at his death. But she made delays, and raised objec-
tions, till he saw that there was no hope of recovering
the farm. You know how fond he was of money, and the
fact that he had alienated so large a share of his property
preyed upon his mind and actually made him sick.
Then his daughter came and established herself in his
room.
"Give me back the farm, Sophia, " I overheard him
say one day. " It'll be yours some day, but I want to
keep it while I live."
"Wait till you get well, pa," she answered. "You
are too sick to trouble yourself about business now."
"I shall be sick till I get the farm back," he answered.
"It'll be all right. Don't worry yourself."
But he continued to worry, and the doctor says he
fretted himself to death. It may be uncharitable in me,
but I don't think Sophia grieved very much over her
father's taking away, though she put on a suit of deep
black at the funeral.
536 DIGGINa FOE GOLD.
Well, the will was read the next day, and all the
property outside of the farm goes to Sophia and Rodney.
The farm being already hers, of course there is nothdng
left for me. My friends are very indignant, and Mr.
Tower, the lawyer, tella me that I have good reason to
contest it. I am certainly very poorly paid for all I've
done in the five years since we were married.
I remained at the farm for a day or two, but I found
it so disagreeable, as Mrs. Bartlett evidently wished me
out of the way, that I took board temporarily with Mrs.
Draper in the village. You know I have some money
remaining from what you left with me. Before that is
gone I think I can get a chance to act as housekeeper for
Mr. John Wilkins, whose wife recently died.
I feel quite lonely, and wish you were at home, but I
am afraid you could not get any work that would pay
you, and I am glad to hear that you are doing well in
California. Write soon to your affectionate mother,
Helen Tarbox.
^' Tom, I must go home," said Grant. '' My
mother needs me."
**But, Grant, won't you come back
again?"
*'Yes. I have too many interests in San
Prancisco to keep away. I want to go home
and establish my mother comfortably. Then
I can return with a cheerful heart."
" How will you go back — over the plains? "
^' No, once is enough for me. I will go to
GRANT HEAES FROM HOME. 337
New York by steamer, and then take the rail-
road to Iowa."
The next day, and before Grant could get
ready to start, he received another letter.
This was from Tom Childs, a schoolfellow
and intimate friend. Here it is :
Dear Grant :
I got your address from your mother, and I am going
to write you a short letter. I wish I could see you, for
you were one of my most intimate friends. I hope you
are doing well, and so do all the boys wish you well except
one. That one is Eodney Bartlett, who is now livmg here
in Woodburn. He and his mother are up at the old farm,
and your mother has been turned out. It is a great shame,
I think, and so does the whole village. Mr. Tarbox's
death seemed very sudden, but people think he worried
to death. Anyhow, Mrs. Bartlett has got the whole
property, except a thousand dollars, which were left to
Rodney.
You ought to see that boy strut 'round. He ' feels his
oats' as father says. He's got a gold watch, a very
showy one, and takes it out every five minutes to look
at it. You would think he was a millionnaire by the airs
he puts on. The other day he asked me : " Po you ever
hear from Grant Colburn ? "
I answered that I was going to write you.
' ' He was a great fool to go to California, " said Rodney.
' ' What was there to stay for here ? " I asked. ' ' His
mother has been turned out of the house without a cent,
and you and your mother have taken everything."
" That's perfectly proper," said Rodney. "We ard
blood relations to Mr. Tarbox." -
22
338 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
"And she was his wife," I told him.
''Oh, well, she had her living for five years," said
Rodney. ' ' She'll get along well enough. She can hire
out in some family. She's strong enough to work."
"She's been treated mighty mean," I said indig-
nantly.
" Ma ofi'ered her twenty-five dollars," replied Rodney,
** but she was too proud to take it. I s'pose she wanted
more."
"Well, it was a pretty mean sum to give your grand-
father's widow," I remarked.
"My mother understands what's proper," said Rod-
ney stiffly. " Have you seen my new watch ? "
" Where did you buy it ? "
" Ma sent to New York for it. It cost sixty dollars.
I guess it's as good a watch as anybody carries in Wood-
burn."
I wish. Grant, you could come home, and bring a
better watch. How it would take down the pride of
that young snob !
Oh, I mustn't forget to tell you that Mr. Jones — Abner
Jones — is in trouble. It seems that your step-father held
a mortgage of a thousand dollars on his farm, and it
comes due in two or three months. Mrs. Bartlett
threatens to foreclose, and unless he can get some one else
to assume the mortgage, I am afraid the farm will be
sold for much less than its value. It is worth three
thousand dollars, but father says it won't fetch, at a
forced sale, much over two thousand, perhaps only that
sum. I pity Mrs. Jones. I was speaking to Arthur
Jones yesterday. He feels very bad about it.
But J have written you a long letter. Let me hear
from you soon.
Your true friend, Tom Childs.
GEANT HEAES FEOM HOME. 339
** There's another reason for going home,"
observed Grant, as he folded up the letter.
** I shall start by the next steamer."
*' I will expect you back in three months,"
said Mr. Crosmont. ^^ While you are away
my son will take your place in the office, but I
shall miss you very much."
CHAPTER XL.
CONCLUSIOK.
/" ^ H A'NT did not write bis motlier tliat he
\jr was coming home ; he wanted to sur-
prise her. He landed in New York and took
the train the same day for Woodbnrn. He ar-
rived early one morning and went at once to
the house where his mother was boarding.
Mrs. Tarbox's face lighted up with amaze-
ment and joy when she saw G-rant.
^' O Grant, can it really be you ! " she ex-
€laimed5 as she embraced him.
"I don't think it is anybody else, mother,"
returned Grant, with a smile.
'' How you have grown ! "
" Yes, mother ; I am three inches taller than
when I went away."
''I have good news for you. Grant. Mr.
Wilkins has engaged me as housekeeper, with
a good salary."
" How much is he going to pay you ? "
840
coNCLUsiois'. 341
** Three dollars a week.''
*'You can't go, mother. I want yon for
my housekeeper, and will pay you five dollars
a week."
'' I wish you could afford to do it, Grant."
''I can, mother. As near as I can figure it
out, I am worth about eight thousand dollars,
and expect to be worth a good deal more with-
in a year."
" This can't be possible ! How could you— a
boy of sixteen — gain so much money ? "
" Partly at the mines, partly by speculating
in real estate in San Francisco. But I will
give you particulars hereafter. Are the Bart-
letts living at the farm ? "
'' Yes ; but I hear Mrs. Bartlett wants to sell
it. She and Rodney want to go to a city to
live."
''And you didn't get a cent from the es-
tate?"
"ISTo; Mrs. Bartlett offered me twenty-five
dollars."
''Which you very properly refused. No
matter! You won't need to depend on that
family for anything. You've got a rich son."
342 DIGGIl^G FOE GOLD.
At this moment a buggy drove into the yard.
''That's Mr. Wilkins come for me," said
Mrs. Tarbox. ''Don't you think it will be
best for me to accept the engagement ? "
"No, mother: I shall provide you with a
home of your own, and give you enough to
keep it up. I will buy back the house that
used to be ours when father was alive."
" O Grant, if you can ! "
"I can. I shall be able to buy it for two
thousand dollars."
" It has been offered for eighteen hundred."
" So much the better."
Here Mr. Wilkins entered the house. He
was a pleasant looking elderly gentleman,
with white hair.
"Well, Mrs. Tarbox, are you ready?" he
asked.
" I am very sorry to disappoint you, Mr.
Wilkins ; but my son Grant, who has just re-
turned from California, wants me to have a
home of my own."
" Why, why ; so Grant is back — and looking
stout and rugged. Have you done well, Grant V '
"Yes, Mr. Wilkins; far better than I ex-
CONCLUSION. 343
pected. I am able to provide my mother with
a home of her own, and while we appreciate
your kind offer, she will be happier and more
independent living so."
*' I won't say a word against it, thongh I am
disappointed. Your father was an old friend
of mine, and I would like to have had his
widow in my home. But I am pleased with
her better prospects. ' '
''Please don't mention my plan for her. I
want to take some people by surprise."
*'ril be mum. Grant."
''Now, mother, I think I'll take a walk.
I'll be back soon."
Out in the street Grant fell in with Tom
Childs.
"I am delighted to see you, Grant," said
Tom, grasping his hand. "Have you just
arrived ?"
"Yes, Tom."
" Were you lucky ? "
Grant smiled, and pulled out an elegant
gold watch.
"You wrote me to get a watch that would
beat Rodney's. Here it is ! "
344 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
*' What a beauty ! What did you pay for
it?"
**I bought it at Tiffany's for one hundred
and twenty-five dollars."
Tom opened wide his eyes in amazement.
''A hundred and twenty-five dollars!" he
ejaculated. *' Then you must be rich ! "
<« I've got a little money."
** As much as a thousand dollars ? "
** A good deal more."
*^Then you've beaten Rodney both in
money and a watch. I am awfully glad.'^
'* What news is there, Tom ? "
*' Some bad news. You know, I told you
about Abner Jones and the mortgage on his
farm. It comes due in three days, and Mrs.
Bartlett is going to foreclose and take posses-
sion of the farm."
'' What's the amount of the mortgage ? "
" A thousand dollars."
**Then she won't do it! I'll advance the
money and assume the mortgage myself."
*' Bully for you, Grant! Here's Mr. Jones
himself coming. Tell him, and put him out ,of
his anxiety."
CONCLUSION. 345
Abner Jones approached with downcast eyes
and sad face. He saw no way of saving the
farm, and it would doubtless be sold far below
its value. When he saw G-rant his face bright-
ened, for he had always liked the boy.
*^ Welcome home. Grant ! " he said heartily.
** When did you come ? "
" I have just arrived."
'* Did you do well?"
** Finely. How is it with you ? "
"I am about to lose my home, Grant," he
said sadly. * ' There' s a mortgage on it, held by
Mrs. Bartlett, that I can't pay."
*' And won't she extend it ? "
^* 'No ; she wants to get possession of it."
"Can't you get anybody to advance the
money?"
"No; we have no capitalist in Wood-
burn that can command that sum in ready
money."
" You forget me, Mr. Jones."
"What do you mean. Grant?" asked the
farmer quickly.
" I mean that I will advance the money, Mr.
Jones."
346 DIGGING FOK GOLD.
"It isn't possible tliat you've got so much
as that, Grant? "
/'I assure you that it is."
'^ But you'll straiten yourself."
" N"o ; I have brought double that sum with
me, and have more in California."
"Then I am saved! You have made me
very happy, Grant."
"It's all right, Mr. Jones. I am making a
business investment."
A few minutes later Grant met Rodney Bart-
lett walking with a slow dignified step, swing-
ing a light bamboo cane.
"Good-morning, Eodney ! " he said, touch-
ing his hat with a smile.
" What ! have you come back, Grant Col-
burn? " cried Eodney, in surprise.
" Yes, I arrived this morning."
"Grandpa's dead, and ma and I have got
the property."
"So I hear."
"I suppose you hurried home to see if you
couldn't get some of it," sneered Rodney.
" I think my mother could get a share if she
went to law."
CONCLUSION. 347
*' That's where you are mistaken. You
have come on a fool's errand."
'' That isn't what brought me."
*^ If you want a place, perhaps ma will have
you for a farm boy."
Grant smiled.
'* As she has you, I don't think she will
need me," he said.
"Do you think I would soil my hands by
farm work ? I am a gentleman."
" I am glad to hear it."
''What do you say to that watch?" and
Rodney complacently produced his gold
chronometer.
"It is a fair watch," said G-rant, examining
it.
"I should say it was! It cost sixty
dollars."
"Suppose you look at mine;" and Grant
produced his. Eodney had not noticed that
he had one.
Rodney looked paralyzed, for he saw that it
was a much finer one than his.
" Is it oroide ?" he gasped.
Grant laughed.
848 DiaaiNG for gold.
^*It was bought at TUBPany's, and Tiffany
doesn't sell oroide watches."
*' How mncli did it cost ? "
'^ A hundred and twenty-five dollars."
^'I don't believe it ! " said Rodney sharply.
**I can show you Tiffany's receipt," he said,
and he drew a paper from his pocket.
'^And you spent all your money for that
watch?" ejaculated Rodney.
" 'No ; I have more left."
Rodney walked away abruptly. All his
pride in his watch had gone. He hurried back
to the farm, and told his mother the astounding
news.
"Ma," he said, "you must buy me a nicer
watch. I don' t want that farm boy to beat me. ' '
Mrs. Bartlett would not at first believe that
Rodney' s story was correct. When convin ced,
she would not accede to her son's request.
" A sixty-dollar watch is good enough for a
boy of your age," she said. " Grant Colburn
will come to the poorhouse if he spends money
like that. If pa were living he could claim
the guardianship of the boy and take care of
CONCLUSION. 349
Ms money. Do you know how mncli lie has
got?"
** He didn't tell me."
** It isn't likely he has as much as yon. I
hear his mother is going to be housekeeper for
Mr. Wilkins."
But later in the day Mrs. Bartlett learned
that this was a mistake. She was very much
worried about Grant's plans, and anxious to
learn how much money he had.
Meanwhile Grant called on the proprietor of
their old home and bought it for eighteen
hundred dollars, only paying five hundred
down, for he could get much better interest
for his money in San Francisco, and could well
afford to pay six per cent, interest on the
balance. He bought the house Just as it stood —
furniture and all — as his mother had originally
sold it. If the price of the property seems
small, it must be remembered that Woodburn
was a country village.
There was another surprise in store for the
Bartletts.
On the day when the mortgage on the Jones
350 DIGGING FOE GOLD.
place came due, Mrs. Bartlett, accompanied by
her lawyer, called at the farm.
''Mr. Jones," she said, "I have come to
foreclose the mortgage on your place."
"You can't do it, Mrs. Bartlett," replied
the farmer.
Mrs. Bartlett closed her thin lips firmly,
and her cold gray eyes rested on the farmer's
face.
" Why can't I do it, Mr. Jones ? " she asked,
in an acid tone.
" Because I am going to pay it."
"But you can't do it!" she exclaimed, in
dismay.
" Here is the money, ma'am. You'll find it
correct. K'ow, I'll thank you to cancel the
mortgage, Mr. Lawyer."
"Have I got to take the money?" asked
Sophia Bartlett.
" Certainly," said the lawyer.
" Where did you get it ? I didn't know
you had any," she asked sharply.
" I am not obliged to tell ; but I will do so
to satisfy you. The money is kindly advanced
by Grant Colburn."
coNCLusioif. 351
**Tliat boy!" ejaculated Mrs. Bartlett
furiously.
''Yes; lie has been to me a friend in
need."
If evil wishes could have blighted him,
Grant would have stood in great danger, for
he had disappointed Sophia Bartlett in her
cherished desire.
"It beats all how that boy has got on!"
she muttered. " I wish he had never been to
California."
Prosperity makes friends. Though Rodney
liked Grant no better he made friendly over-
tures to him now that he looked upon him as
rich, but Grant, though polite, was cold. He
understood the value of such friendship.
Now for a few concluding words. Grant
returned to California. Eventually he intends
to take his mother out there, for his business
interests are growing more extensive, and in
^Ye years he will be a rich man. Mrs. Bartlett
has sold her farm and gone to Chicago, but
her pecuniary ventures have not been success-
ful, and Rodney is by no means a dutiful son.
He is growing extravagant, and is always calling
352 DIGGING FOR GOLD.
upon his mother for money, while he shows no
willingness to work. The whole family is
likely to end in poverty.
Giles Crosmont has returned to England
with his son, leaving his California property in
charge of Grant. He has invited Grant and
Jiis mother to visit him at his home in Devon-
.fshire, and, some summer, the invitation will
probably be accepted. Tom Cooper has es-
tablished himself in San Francisco, but his
father and mother have returned with a com-
petence to their home in Iowa.
''It was a lucky day, mother," said Grant
one day, "when I came to California to dig
for gold."
" Many came out here and failed," returned
his mother; "but you had good habits and
the qualities that insure success."
THE END,
I
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Across Texas. By Edward S. Ellis.
Adventures in Canada; or, Life in the Woods. By John
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Family Dilemma. By Lucy C. Lillie.
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Freaks on the Fells. By R. M. Ballantyne.
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Girl's Ordeal, A. By Lucy C. Lillie.
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Great Cattle Trail, The. By Edward S. Ellis.
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Hector's Inheritance; or, The Boys of Smith Institute.
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Helen Glenn; or, My Mother's Enemy. By Lucy C*
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Honest Ned. By Edward S. Ellis.
Haunted iVline, The. By Harry Castlemon.
in Freedom's Cause. A Story of Wallace and Bruce.
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In the Reign of Terror; The Adventures of a West-
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Jack Midwood; or, Bread Cast Upon the Waters. By
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Joe Wayring at Home; or. The Adventures of a Fly
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Lady Green Satin. By Baroness Descliesnez.
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Lynx Hunting. By C. A. Stephens.
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IVIarion Berkley. By Elizabeth B. Comins.
Missing Pocket-Book, The. By Harry Castlemon.
IVIysterious Andes, The. By Hezekiah Butterworth.
Northern Lights. Stories from Swedish and Finnish
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Off to the Geysers; or. The Young Yachters in Iceland.
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On the Amazon; or. The Cruise of the "Rambler." By
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Question of Honor. By Lynde Palmer.
Righting the Wrong. By Edward S. Ellis.
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Remain Kaibris. His Adventures by Sea and Shore.
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