diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:40:48 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:40:48 -0700 |
| commit | ac2a25627240000fcf57fda1d4e8cc888e606325 (patch) | |
| tree | 29329894a515c5204009997ee447fbe95fd300e7 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12823-0.txt | 7820 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12823-h/12823-h.htm | 7755 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12823-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 847942 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12823-0.txt | 8193 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12823-0.zip | bin | 0 -> 106191 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12823-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 933139 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12823-h/12823-h.htm | 8217 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/12823-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 847942 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/12823.txt | 8098 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/12823.zip | bin | 0 -> 102280 bytes |
13 files changed, 40099 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12823-0.txt b/12823-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b6bd9d --- /dev/null +++ b/12823-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7820 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12823 *** + + JOE’S LUCK + OR + ALWAYS WIDE AWAKE + + + BY + + HORATIO ALGER, JR. + + + AUTHOR OF + + “TONY THE TRAMP,” “SLOW AND SURE,” “THE CASH BOY,” + “MAKING HIS WAY,” “JACK’S WARD,” “DO AND DARE,” + “FACING THE WORLD,” “STRONG AND STEADY,” + “STRIVE AND SUCCEED,” ETC. + + + + + NEW YORK + THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY + 1913 + + + + +JOE’S LUCK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +INTRODUCES JOE + + +“Come here, you Joe, and be quick about it!” + +The boy addressed, a stout boy of fifteen, with an honest, +sun-browned face, looked calmly at the speaker. + +“What’s wanted?” he asked. + +“Brush me off, and don’t be all day about it!” said Oscar Norton +impatiently. + +Joe’s blue eyes flashed indignantly at the tone of the other. + +“You can brush yourself off,” he answered independently. + +“What do you mean by your impudence?” demanded Oscar angrily. “Have +you turned lazy all at once?” + +“No,” said Joe firmly, “but I don’t choose to be ordered round by +you.” + +“What’s up, I wonder? Ain’t you our servant?” + +“I am not your servant, though your father is my employer.” + +“Then you are bound to obey me--his son.” + +“I don’t see it.” + +“Then you’d better, if you know what’s best for yourself. Are you +going to brush me off?” + +“No.” + +“Look out! I can get my father to turn you off.” + +“You may try if you want to.” + +Oscar, much incensed, went to his father to report Joe’s +insubordination. While he is absent, a few words of explanation +will enlighten the reader as to Joe’s history and present position. + +Joe Mason was alone in the world. A year previous he had lost his +father, his only remaining parent, and when the father’s affairs +were settled and funeral expenses paid there was found to be just +five dollars left, which was expended for clothing for Joe. + +In this emergency Major Norton, a farmer and capitalist, offered to +provide Joe with board and clothes and three months’ schooling in +the year in return for his services. As nothing else offered, Joe +accepted, but would not bind himself for any length of time. He was +free to go whenever he pleased. + +Now there were two disagreeable things in Joe’s new place. The +first was the parsimony of Major Norton, who was noted for his +stingy disposition, and the second was the overbearing manners of +Oscar, who lost no opportunity to humiliate Joe and tyrannize over +him so far as Joe’s independent spirit would allow. It happened, +therefore, that Joe was compelled to work hard, while the promised +clothing was of the cheapest and shabbiest description. He was +compelled to go to school in patched shoes and a ragged suit, which +hurt his pride as he compared himself with Oscar, who was carefully +and even handsomely dressed. Parsimonious as his father was, he was +anxious that his only boy should appear to advantage. + +On the very day on which our story begins Oscar had insulted Joe in +a way which excited our hero’s bitter indignation. + +This is the way it happened: + +Joe, who was a general favorite on account of his good looks and +gentlemanly manners, and in spite of his shabby attire, was walking +home with Annie Raymond, the daughter of the village physician, +when Oscar came up. + +He was himself secretly an admirer of the young lady, but had never +received the least encouragement from her. It made him angry to see +his father’s drudge walking on equal terms with his own favorite, +and his coarse nature prompted him to insult his enemy. + +“Miss Raymond,” he said, lifting his hat mockingly, “I congratulate +you on the beau you have picked up.” + +Annie Raymond fully appreciated his meanness, and answered calmly: + +“I accept your congratulations, Mr. Norton.” + +This answer made Oscar angry and led him to go further than he +otherwise would. + +“You must be hard up for an escort, when you accept such a +ragamuffin as Joe Mason.” + +Joe flushed with anger. + +“Oscar Norton, do you mean to insult Miss Raymond or me,” he +demanded. + +“So you are on your high horse!” said Oscar sneeringly. + +“Will you answer my question?” + +“Yes, I will. I certainly don’t mean to insult Miss Raymond, but I +wonder at her taste in choosing my father’s hired boy to walk with.” + +“I am not responsible to you for my choice, Oscar Norton,” said +Annie Raymond, with dignity. “If my escort is poorly dressed, it is +not his fault, nor do I think the less of him for it.” + +“If your father would dress me better, I should be very glad of +it,” said Joe. “If I am a ragamuffin, it is his fault.” + +“I’ll report that to him,” said Oscar maliciously. + +“I wish you would. It would save me the trouble of asking him for +better clothes.” + +“Suppose we go on,” said Annie Raymond. + +“Certainly,” said Joe politely. + +And they walked on, leaving Oscar discomfited and mortified. + +“What a fool Annie Raymond makes of herself” he muttered. “I should +think she’d be ashamed to go round with Joe Mason.” + +Oscar would have liked to despise Annie Raymond, but it was out +of his power. She was undoubtedly the belle of the school, and he +would have been proud to receive as much notice from her as she +freely accorded to Joe. But the young lady had a mind and a will of +her own, and she had seen too much to dislike in Oscar to regard +him with favor, even if he were the son of a rich man, while she +had the good sense and discrimination to see that Joe, despite his +ragged garb, possessed sterling good qualities. + +When Oscar got home he sought his father. + +“Father,” said he, “I heard Joe complaining to Annie Raymond that +you didn’t dress him decently.” + +Major Norton looked annoyed. + +“What does the boy mean?” he said. “What does he expect?” + +“He should be dressed as well as I am,” said Oscar maliciously. + +“Quite out of the question,” said the major hastily. “Your clothes +cost a mint of money.” + +“Of course, you want me to look well, father. I am your son, and he +is only your hired boy.” + +“I don’t want folks to talk,” said the major, who was sensitive to +public opinion. “Don’t you think his clothes are good enough?” + +“Of course they are; but I’ll tell you what, father,” said Oscar, +with a sudden idea, “you know that suit of mine that I got stained +with acid?” + +“Yes, Oscar,” said the major gravely. “I ought to remember it. +It cost me thirty-four dollars, and you spoiled it by your +carelessness.” + +“Suppose you give that to Joe?” suggested Oscar. + +“He’s a good deal larger than you. It wouldn’t fit him; and, +besides, it’s stained.” + +“What right has a hired boy to object to a stain? No matter if it +is too small, he has no right to be particular.” + +“You are right, Oscar,” said the major, who was glad to be saved +the expense of a new suit for Joe. Even he had been unpleasantly +conscious that Joe’s appearance had become discreditable to him. +“You may bring it down, Oscar,” he said. + +“I dare say Joe won’t like the idea of wearing it, but a boy in his +position has no right to be proud.” + +“Of course not,” returned the major, his ruling passion gratified +by the prospect of saving the price of a suit. “When Joseph comes +home--at any rate, after he is through with his chores--you may +tell him to come in to me.” + +“All right, sir.” + +Before Oscar remembered this message, the scene narrated at the +commencement of the chapter occurred. On his way to complain to his +father, he recollected the message, and, retracing his steps, said +to Joe: + +“My father wants to see you right off.” + +This was a summons which Joe felt it his duty to obey. He +accordingly bent his steps to the room where Major Norton usually +sat. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE STAINED SUIT + + +“Oscar tells me that you wish to see me, sir,” said Joe, as he +entered the presence of his pompous employer. + +Major Norton wheeled round in his armchair and looked at Joe over +his spectacles. He looked at Joe’s clothes, too, and it did strike +him forcibly that they were very shabby. However, there was Oscar’s +stained suit; which was entirely whole and of excellent cloth. As +to the stains, what right had a boy like Joe to be particular? + +“Ahem!” said the major, clearing his throat. “Oscar tells me that +you are not satisfied with the clothes I have I given you.” + +“He has told you the truth, Major Norton,” replied Joe bluntly. +“If you will look for yourself, I think you will see why I am +dissatisfied.” + +“Joseph,” said the major, in a tone of disapproval, “you are too +free spoken. I understand you have been complaining to Doctor +Raymond’s daughter of the way I dress you.” + +“Did Oscar tell you the way that happened?” inquired Joe. + +“I apprehend he did not.” + +“When I was walking home with Miss Annie Raymond, Oscar came up and +insulted me, calling me a ragamuffin. I told him that, if I was a +ragamuffin, it was not my fault.” + +Major Norton looked disturbed. + +“Oscar was inconsiderate,” he said. “It seems to me that your +clothes are suitable to your station in life. It is not well for a +boy in your circumstances to be ‘clothed in purple and fine linen,’ +as the Scriptures express it. However, perhaps it is time for you +to have another suit.” + +Joe listened in astonishment. Was it possible that Major Norton +was going to open his heart and give him what he had long secretly +desired? + +Our hero’s delusion was soon dissipated. + +Major Norton rose from his seat, and took from a chair near-by a +stained suit, which had not yet attracted Joe’s attention. + +“Here is a suit of Oscar’s,” he said, “which is quite whole and +almost new. Oscar only wore it a month. It cost me thirty-four +dollars!” said the major impressively. + +He held it up, and Joe recognized it at once. + +“Isn’t it the suit Oscar got stained?” he asked abruptly. + +“Ahem! Yes; it is a little stained, but that doesn’t injure the +texture of the cloth.” + +As he held it up the entire suit seemed to have been sprinkled with +acid, which had changed the color in large, patches in different +parts. The wearer would be pretty sure to excite an unpleasant +degree of attention. + +Joe did not appear to be overwhelmed with the magnificence of the +gift. + +“If it is so good, why don’t Oscar wear it?” he asked. + +Major Norton regarded Joe with displeasure. + +“It cannot matter to you how Oscar chooses to dress,” he said. “I +apprehend that you and he are not on a level.” + +“He is your son, and I am your hired boy,” said Joe. “I admit that. +But I don’t see how you can ask me to wear a suit like that.” + +“I apprehend that you are unsuitably proud, Joseph.” + +“I hope not, sir; but I don’t want to attract everybody’s notice +as I walk the streets. If I had stained the suit myself, I should +have felt bound to wear it, but it was Oscar’s carelessness that +destroyed its appearance, and I don’t think I ought to suffer for +that. Besides, it is much too small for me. Let me show you.” + +Joe pulled off his coat and put on the stained one. The sleeves +were from two to three inches too short, and it was so far from +meeting in front, on account of his being much broader than Oscar, +that his shoulders seemed drawn back to meet each other behind. + +“It doesn’t exactly fit,” said the major; “but it can be let out +easily. I will send it to Miss Pearce--the village tailoress--to +fix it over for you.” + +“Thank you, Major Norton,” said Joe, in a decided tone, “but I hope +you won’t go to that expense, for I shall not be willing to wear it +under any circumstances.” + +“I cannot believe my ears,” said Major Norton, with dignified +displeasure. “How old are you, Joseph?” + +“Fifteen, sir.” + +“It is not fitting that you, a boy of fifteen, should dictate to +your employer.” + +“I don’t wish to, Major Norton, but I am not willing to wear that +suit.” + +“You are too proud. Your pride needs taking down.” + +“Major Norton,” said Joe firmly, “I should like to tell you how I +feel. You are my employer, and I am your hired boy. I try to do my +duty by you.” + +“You are a good boy to work, Joseph. I don’t complain of that.” + +“You agreed to give me board and clothing for my services.” + +“So I have.” + +“Yes, sir; but you have dressed me in such a way that I attract +attention in the street for my shabbiness. I don’t think I am very +proud, but I have been mortified! more than once when I saw people +looking at my patched clothes and shoes out at the toes. I think if +I work faithfully I ought to be dressed decently.” + +“Joseph,” said Major Norton uneasily, “you look at the thing too +one-sided. You don’t expect me to dress you like Oscar?” + +“No, sir; I don’t. If you would spend half as much for my clothes +as you do for Oscar’s I would be contented.” + +“It seems to me you are very inconsistent. Here is a suit of +clothes that cost me thirty-four dollars, which I offer you, and +you decline.” + +“You know why well enough, sir,” said Joe, “You did not tell me you +intended to dress me in Oscar’s castoff clothes, too small, and +stained at that. I would rather wear the patched suit I have on +till it drops to pieces than wear this suit.” + +“You can go, Joseph,” said Major Norton, in a tone of annoyance. “I +did not expect to find you so unreasonable. If you do not choose to +take what I offer you, you will have to go without.” + +“Very well, sir.” + +Joe left the room, his face flushed and his heart full of +indignation at the slight which had been attempted on him. + +“It is Oscar’s doings, I have no doubt,” he said to himself. “It is +like his meanness. He meant to mortify me.” + +If there had been any doubt in Joe’s mind, it would soon have been +cleared up. Oscar had been lying in wait for his appearance, and +managed to meet him as he went out into the yard. + +“Where are your new clothes?” he asked mockingly. + +“I have none,” answered Joe. + +“Didn’t my father give you a suit of mine?” + +“He offered me the suit which you stained so badly with acid.” + +“Well, it’s pretty good,” said Oscar patronizingly. “I only wore it +about a month.” + +“Why don’t you wear it longer?” + +“Because it isn’t fit for me to wear,” returned Oscar. + +“Nor for me,” said Joe. + +“You don’t mean to say you’ve declined?” exclaimed Oscar, in +surprise. + +“That is exactly what I have done.” + +“Why?” + +“You ought to know why.” + +“It is better than the one you have on.” + +“It is too small for me. Besides, it would attract general +attention.” + +“Seems to me somebody is getting proud,” sneered Oscar. “Perhaps +you think Annie Raymond wouldn’t walk with you in that suit?” + +“I think it would make no difference to her,” said Joe. “She was +willing to walk with me in this ragged suit.” + +“I don’t admire her taste.” + +“She didn’t walk with my clothes; she walked with me.” + +“A hired boy!” + +“Yes, I am a hired boy; but I don’t get very good pay.” + +“You feel above your business, that’s what’s the matter with you.” + +“I hope some time to get higher than my business,” said Joe. “I +mean to rise in the world, if I can.” + +Oscar shrugged his shoulders. + +“Perhaps you would like to be a wealthy merchant, or a member of +Congress,” he said. + +“I certainly should.” + +Oscar burst into a sneering laugh, and left Joe alone. + +Joe’s work was done, and, being left free to do as he liked, he +strolled over to the village store. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE RETURNED CALIFORNIAN + + +The village store, in the evening, was a sort of village +club-house, where not only the loungers, but a better class, who +desired to pass the evening socially, were wont to congregate. +About the center of the open space was a large box-stove, which in +winter was kept full of wood, ofttimes getting red-hot, and around +this sat the villagers. Some on wooden chairs, some on a wooden +settee, with a broken back, which was ranged on one side. + +Joe frequently came here in the evening to pass a social hour +and kill time. At the house of Major Norton he had no company. +Oscar felt above him, and did not deign to hold any intercourse +with his father’s drudge, while the housekeeper--Major Norton +being a widower--was busy about her own special work, and would +have wondered at Joe if he had sought her company. I make this +explanation because I do not wish it to be understood that Joe was +a common village lounger, or loafer. + +When Joe entered the store he found the usual company present, but +with one addition. + +This was Seth Larkin, who had just returned from California, +whither he had gone eighteen months before, and was, of course, an +object of great attention, and plied with numerous questions by his +old acquaintances in regard to the land of promise in the far West, +of which all had heard so much. + +It was in the fall of the year 1851, and so in the early days of +California. + +Seth was speaking as Joe entered. + +“Is there gold in California?” repeated Seth, apparently in answer +to a question. “I should say there was. Why, it’s chock full of it. +People haven’t begun to find out the richness of the country. It’s +the place for a poor man to go if he wants to become rich. What’s +the prospects here? I ask any one of you. A man may go working and +plodding from one year’s end to another and not have ten dollars at +the end of it. There’s some here that know that I speak the truth.” + +“How much better can a man do in California?” asked Daniel Tompkins. + +“Well, Dan,” said Seth, “it depends on the kind of man he is. If +he’s a man like you, that spends his money for rum as fast as he +gets it, I should say it’s just as well to stay here. But if he’s +willing to work hard, and to put by half he makes, he’s sure to +do well, and he may get rich. Why, I knew a man that landed in +California the same day that I did, went up to the mines, struck a +vein, and--well, how much do you think that man is worth to-day?” + +“A thousand dollars?” suggested Dan Tompkins. + +“Why, I’m worth more than that myself, and I wasn’t lucky, and had +the rheumatism for four months. You’ll have to go higher.” + +“Two thousand?” guessed Sam Stone. + +“We don’t make much account of two thousand dollars in the mines, +Sam,” said Seth. + +“It’s of some account here,” said Sam. “I’ve been workin’ ten +years, and I ain’t saved up a third of it.” + +“I don’t doubt it,” said Seth; “and it ain’t your fault, either. +Money’s scarce round here, and farmin’ don’t pay. You know what I +was workin’ at before I went out--in a shoe shop. I just about made +a poor livin’, and that was all. I didn’t have money enough to pay +my passage out, but I managed to borrow it. Well, it’s paid now, +and I’ve got something left.” + +“You haven’t told us yet how much the man made that you was talkin’ +about,” said Tom Sutter. “It couldn’t be five thousand dollars, +now, could it?” + +“I should say it could,” said Seth. + +“Was it any more?” inquired Dan Tompkins. + +“Well, boys, I s’pose I may as well tell you, and you may b’lieve +it or not, just as you like. That man is worth twenty thousand +dollars to-day.” + +There was a chorus of admiring ejaculations. + +“Twenty thousand dollars! Did you ever hear the like?” + +“Mind, boys, I don’t say it’s common to make so much money in so +short a time. There isn’t one in ten does it, but some make even +more. What I do say is, that a feller that’s industrious, and +willin’ to work, an’ rough it, and save what he makes, is sure to +do well, if he keeps well. That’s all a man has a right to expect, +or to hope for.” + +“To be sure it is.” + +“What made you come home, Seth, if you were gettin’ on so well?” +inquired one. + +“That’s a fair question,” said Seth, “and I’m willin’ to answer +it. It was because of the rheumatics. I had ’em powerful bad at +the mines, and I’ve come home to kinder recuperate, if that’s the +right word. But I’m goin’ back ag’in, you may bet high on that. No +more work in the shoe shop for me at the old rates. I don’t mean +that I’d mind bein’ a manufacturer on a big scale. That’s a little +more stiddy and easy than bein’ at the mines, but that takes more +capital than I’ve got.” + +“How much does it cost to go out there?” asked Dan Tompkins. + +“More money than you can scare together, Dan. First-class, nigh on +to three hundred dollars, I believe.” + +This statement rather dampened the ardor of more than one of the +listeners. Three hundred dollars, or even two, were beyond the +convenient reach of most of those present. They would have to +mortgage their places to get it. + +“You can go second-class for a good deal less, and you can go round +the Horn pretty cheap,” continued Seth. + +“How far away is Californy?” inquired Sam Stone. + +“By way of the isthmus, it must be as much as six thousand miles, +and it’s twice as fur, I reckon, round the Horn. I don’t exactly +know the distance.” + +“Then it’s farther away than Europe,” said Joe, who had been +listening with eager interest. + +“Of course it is,” said Seth. “Why, that’s Joe Mason, isn’t it? How +you’ve grown since I saw you.” + +“Do you think I have?” said Joe, pleased with the assurance. + +“To be sure you have. Why, you’re a big boy of your age. How old +are you?” + +“Fifteen---nearly sixteen.” + +“That’s about what I thought. Where are you livin’ now, Joe?” + +“I’m working for Major Norton.” + +Seth burst into a laugh. + +“I warrant you haven’t made your fortune yet, Joe,” he said. + +“I haven’t made the first start yet toward it.” + +“And you won’t while you work for the major. How much does he pay +you?” + +“Board and clothes.” + +“And them are the clothes?” said Seth, surveying Joe’s appearance +critically. + +“Yes.” + +“I guess the major’s tailor’s bill won’t ruin him, then. Are they +the best you’ve got?” + +“No; I’ve got a better suit for Sunday.” + +“Well, that’s something. You deserve to do better, Joe.” + +“I wish I could,” said Joe wistfully. “Is there any chance for a +boy in California, Mr. Larkin?” + +“Call me Seth. It’s what I’m used to. I don’t often use the handle +to my name. Well, there’s a chance for a boy, if he’s smart; but +he’s got to work.” + +“I should be willing to do that.” + +“Then, if you ever get the chance, it won’t do you any harm to try +your luck.” + +“How much did you say it costs to get there?” + +“Well, maybe you could get there for a hundred dollars, if you +wasn’t particular how you went.” + +A hundred dollars! It might as well have been ten thousand, as far +as Joe was concerned. He received no money wages, nor was he likely +to as long as he remained in the major’s employ. There was a shoe +shop in the village, where money wages were paid, but there was no +vacancy; and, even if there were, Joe was quite unacquainted with +the business, and it would be a good while before he could do any +more than pay his expenses. + +Joe sighed as he thought how far away was the prospect of his +being able to go to California. He could not help wishing that he +were the possessor of the magic carpet mentioned in the Arabian +tale, upon which the person seated had only to wish himself to be +transported anywhere, and he was carried there in the twinkling of +an eye. + +Joe walked home slowly, dreaming of the gold-fields on the other +side of the continent, and wishing he were there. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +JOE’S LEGACY + + +The next day was Saturday. There was no school, but this did not +lighten Joe’s labors, as he was kept at work on the farm all day. + +He was in the barn when Deacon Goodwin, a neighbor, drove up. + +Oscar was standing in front of the house, whittling out a cane from +a stick he had cut in the woods. + +“Is Joe Mason at home?” the deacon inquired. + +Oscar looked up in surprise. Why should the deacon want Joe Mason? + +“I suppose he is,” drawled Oscar. + +“Don’t you know?” + +“Probably he is in the barn,” said Oscar indifferently. + +“Will you call him? I want to see him on business.” + +Oscar was still more surprised. He was curious about the business, +but his pride revolted at the idea of being sent to summon Joe. + +“You’ll find him in the barn,” said he. + +“I don’t want to leave my horse,” said the deacon. “I will take it +as a favor if you will call him.” + +Oscar hesitated. Finally he decided to go and then return to hear +what business Joe and the deacon had together. He rather hoped that +Joe had been trespassing on the deacon’s grounds, and was to be +reprimanded. + +He opened the barn door and called out: + +“Deacon Goodwin wants you out at the gate.” + +Joe was as much surprised as Oscar. + +He followed Oscar to the front of the house and bade the deacon +good morning. + +“Oscar tells me you want to see me,” he said. + +“Yes, Joe. Do you remember your Aunt Susan?” + +“My mother’s aunt?” + +“Yes; she’s dead and buried.” + +“She was pretty old,” said Joe. + +“The old lady had a small pension,” continued the deacon, “that +just about kept her, but she managed to save a little out of it. +When the funeral expenses were paid it was found that there were +fifty-six dollars and seventy-five cents over.” + +“What’s going to be done with it?” he inquired. + +“She’s left it to you,” was the unexpected reply, “You was the +nearest relation she had, and it was her wish that whatever was +left should go to you.” + +“I’m very much obliged to her. I didn’t expect anything. I had +almost forgotten I had a great-aunt.” + +“The money has been sent to me, Joe,” continued the deacon. “I’m +ready to pay it over to you when you want it, but I hope you won’t +spend it foolish.” + +“I don’t think I shall, Deacon Goodwin.” + +“It wouldn’t take long to spend it, Joe,” said the deacon. “Do you +want me to keep it for you?” + +“I don’t know,” said Joe; “I haven’t had time to think. I’ll come +round to-night and see you.” + +“Very well, Joseph. G’lang, Dobbin!” and the deacon started his old +horse, who had completed his quarter century, along the road. + +Oscar had listened, not without interest, to the conversation. +Though he was the son of a rich man, he had not at command so large +a sum as his father’s hired boy had fallen heir to. On the whole, +he respected Joe rather more than when he was altogether penniless. + +“You’re in luck, Joe,” said he graciously. + +“Yes,” said Joe. “It’s very unexpected.” + +“You might buy yourself a new suit of clothes.” + +“I don’t intend to do that.” + +“Why not? You were wishing for one yesterday.” + +“Because it is your father’s place to keep me in clothes. That’s +the bargain I made with him.” + +“Perhaps you are right,” said Oscar. + +“I’ll tell you what you can do,” he said, after a pause. + +“What?” + +“You might buy a boat.” + +“I shouldn’t have any time to use it.” + +“You might go out with it in the evening. I would look after it in +the daytime.” + +No doubt this arrangement would be satisfactory to Oscar, who would +reap all the advantage, but Joe did not see it in a favorable light. + +“I don’t think I should care to buy a boat,” he said. + +“What do you say to buying a revolver?” + +“I think it would be better to put it on interest.” + +“You’d better get the good of it now. You might die and then what +use would the money be?” + +On the way to the deacon’s Joe fell in with Seth Larkin. + +“Well, my boy, where are you bound?” asked Seth. + +“To collect my fortune,” said Joe. + +Seth asked for an explanation and received it. + +“I’m glad for you and I wish it were more.” + +“So do I,” said Joe. + +“What for? Anything particular?” + +“Yes; if it was enough, I would go to California.” + +“And you really want to go?” + +“Yes. I suppose fifty dollars wouldn’t be enough?” + +“No; it wouldn’t,” said Seth; “but I’ll tell you what you could do.” + +“What?” + +“Go to New York and keep yourself till you got a chance to work +your passage round the Horn.” + +“So I might,” said Joe, brightening up. + +“It wouldn’t be easy, but you wouldn’t mind that.” + +“No; I wouldn’t mind that.” + +“Well, if you decide to go, come round and see me to-morrow, and +I’ll give you the best advice I can.” + +The deacon opposed Joe’s plan, but in vain. Our hero had made up +his mind. Finally the old man counted out the money and Joe put it +in an old wallet. + +The next thing was to give Major Norton warning. + +“Major Norton,” said Joe, “I should like to have you get another +boy in my place.” + +“What, Joe?” exclaimed the major. + +“I am going to leave town.” + +“Where are you going?” asked his employer. + +“First to New York and afterwards to California.” + +“Well, I declare! Is it because you ain’t satisfied with your +clothes?” + +“No, sir. I don’t see much prospect for me if I stay here and I +have heard a good deal about California.” + +“But you haven’t got any money.” + +“I have almost sixty dollars.” + +“Oh, yes; Oscar told me. You’d better stay here.” + +“No, sir; I have made up my mind.” + +“You’ll come back in a month without a cent.” + +“If I do, I’ll go to work again for you.” + +Monday morning came. Clad in his Sunday suit of cheap and rough +cloth, Joe stood on the platform at the depot. The cars came up, he +jumped aboard, and his heart beat with exultation as he reflected +that he had taken the first step toward the Land of Gold. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE COMMERCIAL HOTEL + + +Joe had never been in New York and when he arrived the bustle and +confusion at first bewildered him. + +“Have a hack, young man?” inquired a jehu. + +“What’ll you charge?” + +“A dollar and a half, and half-a-dollar for your baggage.” + +“This is all the baggage I have,” said Joe, indicating a bundle +tied in a red cotton handkerchief. + +“Then, I’ll only charge a dollar and a half,” said the hackman. + +“I’ll walk,” said Joe. “I can’t afford to pay a dollar and a half.” + +“You can’t walk; it’s too far.” + +“How far is it?” + +“Ten miles, more or less,” answered the hackman. + +“Then I shall save fifteen cents a mile,” said Joe, not much +alarmed, for he did not believe the statement. + +“If you lose your way, don’t blame me.” + +Joe made his way out of the crowd, and paused at the corner of the +next street for reflection. Finally he stopped at an apple and +peanut stand, and, as a matter of policy, purchased an apple. + +“I am from the country,” he said, “and I want to find a cheap +hotel. Can you recommend one to me?” + +“Yes,” said the peanut merchant. “I know of one where they charge a +dollar a day.” + +“Is that cheap? What do they charge at the St. Nicholas?” + +“Two dollars a day.” + +“A day?” asked Joe, in amazement. + +It must be remembered that this was over fifty years ago. Joe would +have greater cause to be startled at the prices now asked at our +fashionable hotels. + +“Well, you can go to the cheap hotel.” + +“Where is it?” + +The requisite directions were given. It was the Commercial Hotel, +located in a down-town street. + +The Commercial Hotel, now passed away, or doing business under a +changed name, was not a stylish inn. + +It was rather dark and rather dingy, but Joe did not notice that +particularly. He had never seen a fine hotel, and this structure, +being four stories in height above the offices, seemed to him +rather imposing than otherwise. + +He walked up to the desk, on which was spread out, wide open, the +hotel register. Rather a dissipated-looking clerk stood behind the +counter, picking his teeth. + +“Good morning, sir,” said Joe politely. “What do you charge to stay +here?” + +“A dollar a day,” answered the clerk. + +“Can you give me a room?” + +“I guess so, my son. Where is your trunk?” + +“I haven’t got any.” + +“Haven’t you got any baggage?” + +“Here it is.” + +The clerk looked rather superciliously at the small bundle. + +“Then you’ll have to pay in advance.” + +“All right,” said Joe. “I’ll pay a day in advance.” + +A freckle-faced boy was summoned, provided with the key of No. 161, +and Joe was directed to follow him. + +“Shall I take your bundle?” he asked. + +“No, thank you. I can carry it myself.” + +They went up-stairs, until Joe wondered when they were going to +stop. Finally the boy paused at the top floor, for the very good +reason that he could get no higher, and opened the door of 161. + +“There you are,” said the boy. “Is there anything else you want?” + +“No, thank you.” + +“I’m sorry there ain’t a bureau to keep your clothes,” said the +freckle-faced boy, glancing at Joe’s small bundle with a smile. + +“It is inconvenient,” answered Joe, taking the joke. + +“You wouldn’t like some hot water for shaving, would you?” asked +the boy, with a grin. + +“You can have some put on to heat and I’ll order it when my beard +is grown,” said Joe good-naturedly. + +“All right. I’ll tell ’em to be sure and have it ready in two or +three years.” + +“That will be soon enough. You’d better order some for yourself at +the same time.” + +“Oh, I get in hot water every day.” + +The freckle-faced boy disappeared, and Joe sat down on the bed, to +reflect a little on his position and plans. + +So here he was in New York, and on the way to California, too--that +is, he hoped so. How much can happen in a little while. Three days +before he had not dreamed of any change in his position. + +“I hope I shan’t have to go back again to Oakville. I won’t go +unless I am obliged to,” he determined. + +He washed his hands and face, and went down-stairs. He found that +dinner was just ready. It was not a luxurious meal, but, compared +with the major’s rather frugal table, there was great variety and +luxury. Joe did justice to it. + +“Folks live better in the city than they do in the country,” he +thought; “but, then, they have to pay for it. A dollar a day! Why, +that would make three hundred and sixty-five dollars a year!” + +This to Joe seemed a very extravagant sum to spend on one person’s +board and lodging. + +“Now,” thought Joe, after dinner was over, “the first thing for me +to find out is when the California steamer starts and what is the +lowest price I can go for.” + +In the barroom Joe found a file of two of the New York daily +papers, and began to search for the advertisement of the California +steamers. + +At last he found it. + +The steamer was to start in three days. Apply for passage and any +information at the company’s offices. + +“I’ll go right down there, and find out whether I’ve got money +enough to take me,” Joe decided. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JOE BUYS A TICKET + + +The office of the steamer was on the wharf from which it was to +start. Already a considerable amount of freight was lying on the +wharf ready to be loaded. Joe made his way to the office. + +“Well, boy, what’s your business?” inquired a stout man with a red +face, who seemed to be in charge. + +“Is this the office of the California steamer, sir?” + +“Yes.” + +“What is the lowest price for passage?” + +“A hundred dollars for the steerage.” + +When Joe heard this his heart sank within him. It seemed to be the +death-blow to his hopes. He had but fifty dollars, or thereabouts, +and there was no chance whatever of getting the extra fifty. + +“Couldn’t I pay you fifty dollars now and the rest as soon as I can +earn it in California?” he pleaded. + +“We don’t do business in that way.” + +“I’d be sure to pay it, sir, if I lived,” said Joe. “Perhaps you +think I am not honest.” + +“I don’t know whether you are or not,” said the agent cavalierly. +“We never do business in that way.” + +Joe left the office not a little disheartened. + +“I wish it had been a hundred dollars Aunt Susan left me,” he said +to himself. + +Joe’s spirits were elastic, however. He remembered that Seth had +never given him reason to suppose that the money he had would pay +his passage by steamer. He had mentioned working his passage in +a sailing-vessel round the Horn. Joe did not like that idea so +well, as the voyage would probably last four months, instead of +twenty-five days, and so delay his arrival. + +The afternoon slipped away almost without Joe’s knowledge. He +walked about, here and there, gazing with curious eyes at the +streets, and warehouses, and passing vehicles, and thinking what +a lively place New York was, and how different life was in the +metropolis from what it had been to him in the quiet country town +which had hitherto been his home. Somehow it seemed to wake Joe up, +and excite his ambition, to give him a sense of power which he had +never felt before. + +“If I could only get a foothold here,” thought Joe, “I should be +willing to work twice as hard as I did on the farm.” + +This was what Joe thought. I don’t say that he was correct. There +are many country boys who make a mistake in coming to the city. +They forsake quiet, comfortable homes, where they have all they +need, to enter some city counting-room, or store, at starvation +wages, with, at best, a very remote prospect of advancement and +increased risk of falling a prey to temptation in some of the +many forms which it assumes in a populous town. A boy needs to be +strong, and self-reliant, and willing to work if he comes to the +city to compete for the prizes of life. As the story proceeds, we +shall learn whether Joe had these necessary qualifications. + +When supper was over he went into the public room of the Commercial +Hotel, and took up a paper to read. There was a paragraph about +California, and some recent discoveries there, which he read with +avidity. + +Though Joe was not aware of it, he was closely observed by a +dark-complexioned man, dressed in rather a flashy manner. When our +hero laid down the paper this man commenced a conversation. + +“I take it you are a stranger in the city, my young friend?” he +observed, in an affable manner. + +“Yes, sir,” answered Joe, rather glad to have some one to speak to. +“I only arrived this morning.” + +“Indeed! May I ask from what part of the country you come?” + +“From Oakville, New Jersey.” + +“Indeed! I know the place. It is quite a charming town.” + +“I don’t know about that,” said Joe. “It’s pretty quiet and +dull--nothing going on.” + +“So you have come to the city to try your luck?” + +“I want to go to California.” + +“Oh, I see--to the gold-diggings.” + +“Have you ever been there, sir?” + +“No; but I have had many friends go there. When do you expect to +start?” + +“Why, that is what puzzles me,” Joe replied frankly. “I may not be +able to go at all.” + +“Why not?” + +“I haven’t got money enough to buy a ticket.” + +“You have got some money, haven’t you?” + +“Yes--I have fifty dollars; but I need that a hundred dollars is +the lowest price for a ticket.” + +“Don’t be discouraged, my young friend,” said the stranger, in +the most friendly manner. “I am aware that the ordinary charge +for a steerage ticket is one hundred dollars, but exceptions are +sometimes made.” + +“I don’t think they will make one in my case,” said Joe. “I told +the agent I would agree to pay the other, half as soon as I earned +it, but he said he didn’t do business in that way.” + +“Of course. You are a stranger to him, don’t you see? That makes +all the difference in the world. Now, I happen to be personally +acquainted with him. I am sure he would do me a favor. Just give me +the fifty dollars, and I’ll warrant I’ll get the ticket for you.” + +Joe was not wholly without caution, and the thought of parting with +his money to a stranger didn’t strike him favorably. Not that he +had any doubts as to his new friend’s integrity, but it didn’t seem +businesslike. + +“Can’t I go with you to the office?” he suggested. + +“I think I can succeed better in the negotiation if I am alone,” +said the stranger. “I’ll tell you what--you needn’t hand me the +money, provided you agree to take the ticket off my hands at fifty +dollars if I secure it.” + +“Certainly I will, and be very thankful to you.” + +“I always like to help young men along,” said the stranger +benevolently. “I’ll see about it to-morrow. Now, where can I meet +you?” + +“In this room. How will that do?” + +“Perfectly. I am sure I can get the ticket for you. Be sure to have +the money ready.” + +“I’ll be sure,” said Joe cheerfully. + +“And hark you, my young friend,” continued the stranger, “don’t say +a word to any one of what I am going to do for you, or I might have +other applications, which I should be obliged to refuse.” + +“Very well, sir. I will remember.” + +Punctually at four the next day the stranger entered the room, +where Joe was already awaiting him. + +“Have you succeeded?” asked Joe eagerly. + +The stranger nodded. + +“Let us go up to your room and complete our business. For reasons +which I have already mentioned, I prefer that the transaction +should be secret.” + +“All right, sir.” + +Joe got his key, and led the way up-stairs. + +“I had a little difficulty with the agent,” said the stranger; “but +finally he yielded, out of old friendship.” He produced a large +card, which read thus: + + =CALIFORNIA STEAMSHIP COMPANY. + THE BEARER + Is Entitled to One Steerage Passage + FROM + NEW YORK TO SAN FRANCISCO + STEAMER COLUMBUS.= + +Below this was printed the name of the agent. Joe paid over the +money joyfully. + +“I am very much obliged to you,” he said gratefully. + +“Don’t mention it,” said the stranger, pocketing the fifty dollars. +“Good day! Sorry to leave you, but I am to meet a gentleman at +five.” + +He went down-stairs, and left Joe alone. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JOE GETS INTO TROUBLE + + +“How lucky I have been,” thought Joe, in the best of spirits. +“There wasn’t one chance in ten of my succeeding, and yet I have +succeeded. Everything has turned out right. If I hadn’t met this +man, I couldn’t have got a ticket at half price.” + +Joe found that after paying his hotel expenses, he should have a +dollar left over. This would be rather a small sum to start with in +California, but Joe didn’t trouble himself much about that. + +In the course of the day Joe found himself in the upper part of +the Bowery. It seemed to him a very lively street, and he was much +interested in looking in at the shop windows as he passed. + +He was standing before a window, when a stone from some quarter +struck the pane and shivered it in pieces. + +Joe was startled, and was gazing at the scene of havoc in +bewilderment, when a stout German, the proprietor, rushed out and +seized him by the collar. + +“Aha! I have you, you young rascal!” he exclaimed furiously. “I’ll +make you pay for this!” + +By this time Joe had recovered his senses. + +“Let me alone!” he exclaimed. + +“I let you know!” exclaimed the angry man. “You break my window! +You pay me five dollar pretty quick, or I send you to prison!” + +“I didn’t break your window! It’s a lie!” + +“You tell me I lie?” shouted the angry German. “First you break my +window, then you tell me I lie! You, one bad boy--you one loafer!” + +“I don’t know who broke your window,” said Joe, “but I tell you I +didn’t. I was standing here, looking in, when, all at once, I heard +a crash.” + +“You take me for one fool, perhaps,” said his captor, puffing with +excitement. “You want to get away, hey?” + +“Yes, I do.” + +“And get no money for my window?” + +By this time a crowd had collected around the chief actors in this +scene. They were divided in opinion. + +“Don’t he look wicked, the young scamp?” said a thin-visaged female +with a long neck. + +“Yes,” said her companion. “He’s one of them street rowdies that go +around doin’ mischief. They come around and pull my bell, and run +away, the villians!” + +“What’s the matter, my boy?” asked a tall man with sandy hair, +addressing himself to Joe in a friendly tone. + +“This man says I broke his window.” + +“How was it? Did you break it?” + +“No, sir. I was standing looking in, when a stone came from +somewhere and broke it.” + +“Look here, sir,” said the sandy-haired man, addressing himself +to the German, “what reason have you for charging this boy with +breaking your window?” + +“He stood shoost in front of it,” said the German. + +“If he had broken it, he would have run away. Didn’t that occur to +you?” + +“Some one broke mine window,” said the German. + +“Of course; but a boy who threw a stone must do so from a distance, +and he wouldn’t be likely to run up at once to the broken window.” + +“Of course not. The man’s a fool!” were the uncomplimentary remarks +of the bystanders, who a minute before had looked upon Joe as +undoubtedly guilty. + +“You’ve got no case at all,” said Joe’s advocate. “Let go the +boy’s collar, or I shall advise him to charge you with assault and +battery.” + +“Maybe you one friend of his?” said the German. + +“I never saw the boy before in my life,” said the other, “but I +don’t want him falsely accused.” + +“Somebody must pay for my window.” + +“That’s fair; but it must be the boy or man that broke it, not my +young friend here, who had no more to do with it than myself. I +sympathize with you, and wish you could catch the scamp that did +it.” + +At that moment a policeman came up. + +“What’s the matter?” he asked. + +“My window was broke--dat’s what’s de matter.” + +“Who broke it?” asked the policeman. + +“I caught dat boy standing outside,” pointing to Joe. + +“Aha, you young rascal! I’ve caught you, have I? I’ve had my eye on +you for weeks!” + +And Joe, to his dismay, found himself collared anew. + +“I’ve only been in the city two days,” said Joe. + +“Take him to jail!” exclaimed the German. + +And the policeman was about to march off poor Joe, when a voice of +authority stayed him. + +“Officer, release that boy!” said the sandy-haired man sternly. + +“I’ll take you along, too, if you interfere.” + +“Release that boy!” repeated the other sternly; “and arrest the +German for assault and battery. I charge him with assaulting this +boy!” + +“Who are you?” demanded the officer insolently. + +“My name is ----, and I am one of the new police commissioners,” +said the sandy-haired man quietly. + +Never was there a quicker change from insolence to fawning. + +“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir,” said the officer, instantly releasing +Joe. “I didn’t know you.” + +“Nor your duty, either, it appears,” said the commissioner sternly. +“Without one word of inquiry into the circumstances, you were about +to arrest this boy. A pretty minister of justice you are!” + +“Shall I take this man along, sir?” asked the policeman, quite +subdued. + +At this suggestion the bulky Teuton hurried into his shop, +trembling with alarm. With great difficulty he concealed himself +under the counter. + +“You may let him go this time. He has some excuse for his conduct, +having suffered loss by the breaking of his window. As for you, +officer, unless you are more careful in future, you will not long +remain a member of the force.” + +The crowd disappeared, only Joe and his advocate remaining behind. + +“I am grateful to you, sir, for your kindness,” said Joe. “But for +you I should have been carried to the station-house.” + +“It is fortunate I came along just as I did. Are you a stranger in +the city?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“You must be careful not to run into danger. There are many perils +in the city for the inexperienced.” + +“Thank you, sir. I shall remember your advice.” + +The next day, about two hours before the time of sailing, Joe went +down to the wharf. + +As he was going on board a man stopped him. + +“Have you got a ticket?” he asked. + +“Yes, sir,” said Joe, “a steerage ticket. There it is.” + +“Where did you get this?” asked the man. + +Joe told him. + +“How much did you pay for it?” + +“Fifty dollars.” + +“Then you have lost your money, for it is a bogus ticket. You can’t +travel on it.” + +Joe stared at the other in blank dismay. The earth seemed to be +sinking under him. He realized that he had been outrageously +swindled, and that he was farther from going to California than +ever. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +JOE’S LUCK CHANGES + + +The intelligence that his ticket was valueless came to Joe like +a thunderbolt from a clear sky. The minute before he was in high +spirits--his prospects seemed excellent and his path bright. + +“What shall I do?” he ejaculated. + +“I can’t tell you,” said the officer. “One thing is clear--you +can’t go to California on that ticket.” + +Poor Joe! For the moment hope was dead within his breast. He had +but one dollar left and that was only half the amount necessary +to carry him back to the village where we found him at the +commencement of our story. Even if he were able to go back, he felt +he would be ashamed to report the loss of his money. The fact that +he had allowed himself to be swindled mortified him not a little. +He would never hear the last of it if he returned to Oakville. + +“No; I wouldn’t go back if I could,” he decided. + +“Wouldn’t I like to get hold of the man that sold me the ticket!” + +He had hardly given mental expression to this wish when it was +gratified. The very man passed him and was about to cross the +gangplank into the steamer. Joe’s eyes flashed, and he sprang +forward and seized the man by the arm. + +The swindler’s countenance changed when he recognized Joe, but he +quickly decided upon his course. + +“What do you want, Johnny?” he asked composedly. + +“What do I want? I want my fifty dollars back.” + +“I don’t know what you are talking about.” + +“You sold me a bogus ticket for fifty dollars,” said Joe stoutly. +“Here it is. Take it back and give me my money.” + +“The boy must be crazy,” said the swindler. + +“Did you sell him that ticket?” inquired the officer. + +“Never saw him before in my life.” + +“Ain’t you mistaken, boy?” asked the officer. + +“No, sir. This is the very man.” + +“Have you any business here?” asked the officer. + +“Yes,” said the man; “I’ve taken a steerage ticket to San +Francisco. Here it is.” + +“All right. Go in.” + +He tore himself from Joe’s grasp and went on board the steamer. Our +hero, provoked, was about to follow him, when the officer said: + +“Stand back! You have no ticket.” + +“That man bought his ticket with my money.” + +“That is nothing to me,” said the officer. “It may be so, or you +may be mistaken.” + +“I am not mistaken,” said Joe. + +“You can report it to the police--that is, if you think you can +prove it. Now, stand back!” + +Poor Joe! He had been worsted in the encounter with this +arch-swindler. He would sail for San Francisco on the Columbus. +Perhaps he would make his fortune there, while Joe, whom he had so +swindled, might, within three days, be reduced to beggary. + +Joe felt that his confidence in human nature was badly shaken. +Injustice and fraud seemed to have the best of it in this world, so +far as his experience went, and it really seemed as if dishonesty +were the best policy. It is a hard awakening for a trusting boy, +when he first comes in contact with selfishness and corruption. + +Joe fell back because he was obliged to. He looked around, hoping +that he might somewhere see a policeman, for he wanted to punish +the scoundrel to whom he owed his unhappiness and loss. But, as +frequently happens, when an officer is wanted none is to be seen. + +Joe did not leave the wharf. Time was not of much value to him, and +he decided that he might as well remain and see the steamer start +on which he had fondly hoped to be a passenger. + +Meanwhile, the preparations for departure went steadily forward. +Trunks arrived and were conveyed on board; passengers, accompanied +by their friends, came, and all was hurry and bustle. + +Two young men, handsomely dressed and apparently possessed of +larger means than the great majority of the passengers, got out of +a hack and paused close to where Joe was standing. + +“Dick,” said one, “I’m really sorry you are not going with me. I +shall feel awfully lonely without you.” + +“I am very much disappointed, Charlie, but duty will keep me at +home. My father’s sudden, alarming sickness has broken up all my +plans.” + +“Yes, Dick, of course you can’t go.” + +“If my father should recover, in a few weeks, I will come out and +join you, Charlie.” + +“I hope you may be able to, Dick. By the way, how about your +ticket?” + +“I shall have to lose it, unless the company will give me another +in place of it.” + +“They ought to do it.” + +“Yes, but they are rather stiff about it. I would sell it for a +hundred dollars.” + +Joe heard this and his heart beat high. + +He pressed forward, and said eagerly: + +“Will you sell it to me for that?” + +The young man addressed as Dick looked, in surprise, at the poorly +dressed boy who had addressed him. + +“Do you want to go to California?” he asked. + +“Yes, sir,” said Joe. “I am very anxious to go.” + +“Do I understand you to offer a hundred dollars for my ticket?” + +“Yes, sir; but I can’t pay you now.” + +“When do you expect to be able to pay me, then?” + +“Not till I’ve earned the money in California.” + +“Have you thought before of going?” + +“Yes, sir. Until an hour ago I thought that it was all arranged +that I should go. I came down here and found that the ticket I had +bought was a bogus one, and that I had been swindled out of my +money.” + +“That was a mean trick,” said Dick Scudder indignantly. “Do you +know the man that cheated you?” + +“Yes; he is on board the steamer.” + +“How much money have you got left?” + +“A dollar.” + +“Only a dollar? And you are not afraid to land in California with +this sum?” + +“No, sir. I shall go to work at once.” + +“Charlie,” said Dick, turning to his friend, “I will do as you say. +Are you willing to take this boy into your stateroom in my place?” + +“Yes,” said Charles Folsom promptly. “He looks like a good boy. I +accept him as my roommate.” + +“All right,” said the other. “My boy, what is your name?” + +“Joe Mason.” + +“Well, Joe, here is my ticket. If you are ever able to pay a +hundred dollars for this ticket, you may pay it to my friend, +Charles Folsom. Now, I advise you both to be getting aboard, as it +is nearly time for the steamer to sail. I won’t go on with you, +Charlie, as I must go back to my father’s bedside.” + +“Good-by, sir. God bless you!” said Joe gratefully. “Good-by, Joe, +and good luck!” + +As they went over the plank, the officer, recognizing Joe, said +roughly: + +“Stand back, boy! Didn’t I tell you you couldn’t go aboard without +a ticket?” + +“Here is my ticket,” said Joe. + +“A first-class ticket!” exclaimed the officer, in amazement. “Where +did you get it?” + +“I bought it,” answered Joe. + +“I shall go to California, after all!” thought our hero exultingly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE FIRST DAY ON BOARD + + +“We will look up our stateroom first, Joe,” said his new friend. +“It ought to be a good one.” + +The stateroom proved to be No. 16, very well located and spacious +for a stateroom. But to Joe it seemed very small for two persons. +He was an inexperienced traveler and did not understand that life +on board ship is widely different from life on shore. His companion +had been to Europe and was used to steamer life. + +“I think, Joe,” said he, “that I shall put you in the top berth. +The lower berth is considered more desirable, but I claim it on the +score of age and infirmity.” + +“You don’t look very old, or infirm,” said Joe. + +“I am twenty-three. And you?” + +“Fifteen--nearly sixteen.” + +“I have a stateroom trunk, which will just slip in under my berth. +Where is your luggage?” + +Joe looked embarrassed. + +“I don’t know but you will feel ashamed of me,” he said; “but the +only extra clothes I have are tied up in this handkerchief.” + +Charles Folsom whistled. + +“Well,” said he, “you are poorly provided. What have you got +inside?” + +“A couple of shirts, three collars, two handkerchiefs, and a pair +of stockings.” + +“And you are going a journey of thousands of miles! But never +mind,” he said kindly. “I am not much larger than you, and, if you +need it, I can lend you. Once in California, you will have less +trouble than if you were loaded down with clothes. I must get you +to tell me your story when there is time.” + +They came on deck just in time to see the steamer swing out of the +dock. + +There were some of the passengers with sober faces. They had +bidden farewell to friends and relatives whom they might not see +for years--perhaps never again. They were going to a new country, +where hardships undoubtedly awaited them, and where they must take +their chances of health and success. Some, too, feared seasickness, +a malady justly dreaded by all who have ever felt its prostrating +effects. But Joe only felt joyful exhilaration. + +“You look happy, Joe,” said young Folsom. + +“I feel so,” said Joe. + +“Are you hoping to make your fortune in California?” + +“I am hoping to make a living,” said Joe. + +“Didn’t you make a living here at home?” + +“A poor living, with no prospects ahead. I didn’t mind hard work +and poor clothes, if there had been a prospect of something better +by and by.” + +“Tell me your story. Where were you living?” Charles Folsom +listened attentively. + +“Major Norton didn’t appear disposed to pamper you, or bring you +up in luxury, that’s a fact. It would have been hard lines if, on +account of losing your aunt’s legacy, you had been compelled to go +back to Oakville.” + +“I wouldn’t have gone,” said Joe resolutely. + +“What would you have done?” + +“Stayed in New York, and got a living somehow, even if I had to +black boots in the street.” + +“I guess you’ll do. You’ve got the right spirit. It takes boys and +men like you for pioneers.” + +Joe was gratified at his companion’s approval. + +“Now,” said Folsom, “I may as well tell you my story. I am the +son of a New York merchant who is moderately rich. I entered the +counting-room at seventeen, and have remained there ever since, +with the exception of four months spent in Europe.” + +“If you are rich already, why do you go out to California?” asked +Joe. + +“I am not going to the mines; I am going to prospect a little for +the firm. Some day San Francisco will be a large city. I am going +to see how soon it will pay for our house to establish a branch +there.” + +“I see,” said Joe. + +“I shall probably go out to the mines and take a general survey of +the country; but, as you see, I do not go out to obtain employment.” + +“It must be jolly not to have to work,” said Joe, “but to have +plenty of money to pay your expenses.” + +“Well, I suppose it is convenient. I believe you haven’t a large +cash surplus?” + +“I have a dollar.” + +“You’ve got some pluck to travel so far away from home with such a +slender capital, by Jove!” + +“I don’t know that it’s pluck. It’s necessity.” + +“Something of both, perhaps. Don’t you feel afraid of what may +happen?” + +“No,” said Joe. “California is a new country, and there must be +plenty of work. Now, I am willing to work and I don’t believe I +shall starve.” + +“That’s the way to feel, Joe. At the worst, you have me to fall +back upon. I won’t see you suffer.” + +“It is very lucky for me. I hope I shan’t give you any trouble.” + +“If you do, I’ll tell you of it,” said Folsom, laughing. “The fact +is, I feel rather as if I were your guardian. An odd feeling that, +as hitherto I have been looked after by others. Now it is my turn +to assume authority.” + +“You will find me obedient,” said Joe, smiling. “Seriously, I am so +inexperienced in the way of the world that I shall consider it a +great favor if you will give me any hints you may think useful to +me.” + +Folsom became more and more pleased with his young charge. He saw +that he was manly, amiable, and of good principles, with only one +great fault--poverty--which he was quite willing to overlook. + +They selected their seats in the saloon, and were fortunate enough +to be assigned to the captain’s table. Old travelers know that +those who sit at this table are likely to fare better than those +who are farther removed. + +While Folsom was walking the deck with an old friend, whom he had +found among the passengers, Joe went on an exploring expedition. + +He made his way to that portion of the deck appropriated to the +steerage passengers. Among them his eye fell on the man who +swindled him. + +“You here!” exclaimed the fellow in amazement. + +“Yes,” said Joe, “I am here.” + +“I thought you said your ticket wasn’t good?” + +“It wasn’t, as you very well know.” + +“I don’t know anything about it. How did you smuggle yourself +aboard?” + +“I didn’t smuggle myself aboard at all. I came on like the rest of +the passengers.” + +“Why haven’t I seen you before?” + +“I am not a steerage passenger. I am traveling first-class.” + +“You don’t mean it!” ejaculated the fellow, thoroughly astonished. +“You told me you hadn’t any more money.” + +“So I did, and that shows that you were the man that sold me the +bogus ticket.” + +“Nothing of the kind,” said the other, but he seemed taken aback +by Joe’s charge. “Well, all I can say is, that you know how to get +round. When a man or boy can travel first-class without a cent of +money, he’ll do.” + +“I wouldn’t have come at all if I had had to swindle a poor boy out +of his money,” said Joe. + +Joe walked off without receiving an answer. He took pains to +ascertain the name of the man who had defrauded him. He was entered +on the passenger-list as Henry Hogan. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE DETECTED THIEF + + +“Do you expect to be seasick, Joe?” + +“I don’t know, Mr. Folsom. This is the first time I have ever been +at sea.” + +“I have crossed the Atlantic twice, and been sick each time. I +suppose I have a tendency that way.” + +“How does it feel?” asked Joe curiously. + +Folsom laughed. + +“It cannot be described,” he answered. + +“Then I would rather remain ignorant,” said Joe. + +“You are right. This is a case where ignorance is bliss decidedly.” + +Twenty-four hours out Folsom’s anticipations were realized. He +experienced nausea and his head swam. + +Returning from a walk on deck, Joe found his guardian lying down in +the stateroom. + +“Is anything the matter, Mr. Folsom?” + +“Nothing but what I expected. The demon of the sea has me in his +gripe.” + +“Can I do anything for you?” + +“Nothing at present, Joe. What art can minister to a stomach +diseased? I must wait patiently, and it will wear off. Don’t you +feel any of the symptoms?” + +“Oh, no--I feel bully,” said Joe. “I’ve got a capital appetite.” + +“I hope you will be spared. It would be dismal for both of us to be +groaning with seasickness.” + +“Shall I stay with you?” + +“No--go on deck. That is the best way to keep well. My sickness +won’t last more than a day or two.” + +The young man’s expectations were realized. After forty-eight hours +he recovered from his temporary indisposition and reappeared on +deck. + +He found that his young companion, had made a number of +acquaintances, and had become a general favorite through his frank +and pleasant manners. + +“I think you’ll get on, Joe,” said he. “You make friends easily.” + +“I try to do it,” said Joe modestly. + +“You are fast getting over your country greenness. Of course you +couldn’t help having a share of it, having never lived outside of a +small country village.” + +“I am glad you think so, Mr. Folsom. I suppose I was very green and +I haven’t got over it yet, but in six months I hope to get rid of +it wholly.” + +“It won’t take six months at the rate you are advancing.” + +Day succeeded day and Joe was not sick at all. He carried a good +appetite to every meal and entered into the pleasures of sea life +with zest. He played shuffle-board on deck, guessed daily the +ship’s run, was on the alert for distant sails, and managed in one +way or another to while away the time cheerfully. + +They had got into the Gulf of Mexico, when, one day, there was an +unwonted commotion in the steerage. + +A poor German had lost forty dollars, the entire capital he was +carrying with him to the new country. + +“Some tief has rob me,” he complained, in accents of mingled grief +and anger. “He has rob me of all my gold. He has not left me one +cent.” + +“When did you miss the money?” inquired the first officer. + +“Just now,” said the poor German. + +“When did you see it last?” + +“Last night when I went to mine bed.” + +“Did you take off your clothes?” + +“No.” + +“What men sleep near you?” + +The German pointed to two. The first was a German. + +“But he would not rob me. He is mine friend,” he said. “He is +Fritz.” + +“Who is the other man?” + +The German pointed to Henry Hogan, the same man who had defrauded +Joe. + +“The man’s a fool,” said Hogan. “Does he mean to say a gentleman +like me would steal his paltry money?” + +“He hasn’t said so,” said the first officer quietly. “He only said +that you slept near him.” + +“He’d better not accuse me,” blustered Hogan. + +The officer was a judge of human nature, and Hogan’s manner and +words made him suspect that he was really the guilty party. + +“My man,” said he, “you are making a fuss before you are accused. +No charge has been made against you. The man’s money has been +taken, and some one must have taken it.” + +“I don’t believe he ever had any,” said Hogan. + +“Can you prove that you had the money?” asked the officer, +addressing the German. “Has any one on board seen it in your +possession?” + +An Irishman named Riley came forward. + +“That can I do,” said he. “It was only yesterday morning that I saw +the man counting his money.” + +“In what denomination was the money?” + +Pat Riley scratched his head. + +“Sure I didn’t know that money belonged to any denomination, sir.” + +The officer smiled. + +“I mean, was it in five, or ten, or twenty dollar pieces.” + +“There was four tens, sir--four gould eagles.” + +“Is that right?” inquired the officer, turning to the German. + +“Yes, sir, that’s what I had.” + +“Then,” said the officer, “it seems clearly proved that our German +friend here had the money he claims. Now, I suggest that the two +men he has said occupied bunks nearest to him shall be searched. +But first, if the man who has taken the money will come forward +voluntarily and return the same, I will guarantee that he shall +receive no punishment.” + +He paused for a brief space and looked at Hogan. + +Hogan seemed uneasy, but stolid and obstinate. + +“Since my offer is not accepted,” said the officer, “let the two +men be searched.” + +Fritz, the young German, came forward readily. + +“I am ready,” he said. + +“I am not,” said Hogan. “I protest against this outrage. It is an +infringement of my rights as an American citizen. If any one dares +to lay hands on me, I will have him arrested as soon as we reach +California.” + +His threat produced no effect upon the officer. At a signal two +sailors seized him, and, despite his struggles, turned his pockets +inside out. + +Among the contents were found four gold eagles. + +“It is my money!” exclaimed the poor German. + +“You lie! The money is mine!” said Hogan furiously. + +“There was a cross, which I scratched with a pin, on one piece,” +said the German. “Look! see if it is there.” + +Examination was made, and the scratch was found just as he +described it. + +“The money evidently belongs to the German,” said the officer. +“Give it to him.” + +“You are robbing me of my money,” said Hogan. + +“Look here, my friend, you had better be quiet,” said the officer +significantly, “or I will have you tied up to keep out of mischief. +You are getting off very well as it is. I have no doubt you have +been up to other dishonest tricks before this one.” + +“That is true, sir,” said Joe, speaking up for the first time. +“This is the same man who sold me a bogus ticket, two days before +we sailed, for fifty dollars.” + +“It’s a lie!” said Hogan. “I’ll be even with you some time, boy, +for that lie of yours.” + +“I don’t care for the threats of such a scoundrel as you are,” said +Joe undauntedly. + +“Look out for him, Joe,” said Folsom. “He will try to do you a +mischief some time.” + +He would have been confirmed in his opinion had he observed the +glance of hatred with which the detected thief followed his young +ward. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +JOE ARRIVES IN SAN FRANCISCO + + +At the isthmus they exchanged steamers, crossing the narrow neck of +land on the backs of mules. To-day the journey is more rapidly and +comfortably made in a railroad-car. Of the voyage on the Pacific +nothing need be said. The weather was fair, and it was uneventful. + +It was a beautiful morning in early September when they came in +sight of the Golden Gate, and, entering the more placid waters of +San Francisco Bay, moored at a short distance from the town. + +“What do you think of it, Joe?” asked Charles Folsom. + +“I don’t know,” said Joe slowly. “Is this really San Francisco?” + +“It is really San Francisco.” + +“It doesn’t seem to be much built up yet,” said Joe. + +In fact, the appearance of the town would hardly suggest the +stately capital of to-day, which looks out like a queen on the bay +and the ocean, and on either side opens her arms to the Eastern +and Western continents. It was a town of tents and one-story +cabins, irregularly and picturesquely scattered over the hillside, +with here and there a sawmill, where now stand some of the most +prominent buildings of the modern city. For years later there was +a large mound of sand where now the stately Palace Hotel covers +two and a half acres. Where now stand substantial business blocks, +a quarter of a century since there appeared only sandy beaches or +mud-flats, with here and there a wooden pier reaching out into the +bay. Only five years before the town contained but seventy-nine +buildings--thirty-one frame, twenty-six adobe, and the rest +shanties. It had grown largely since then, but even now was only a +straggling village, with the air of recent settlement. + +“You expected something more, Joe, didn’t you?” + +“Yes,” admitted Joe. + +“You must remember how new it is. Ten years, nay, five, will work a +great change in this straggling village. We shall probably live to +see it a city of a hundred thousand inhabitants.” + +The passengers were eager to land. They were tired of the long +voyage and anxious to get on shore. They wanted to begin making +their fortunes. + +“What are your plans, Joe?” asked Charles Folsom. + +“I shall accept the first job that offers,” said Joe. “I can’t +afford to remain idle long with my small capital.” + +“Joe,” said the young man seriously, “let me increase your capital +for you. You can pay me back, you know, when it is convenient. +Here, take this gold piece.” + +Our young hero shook his head. + +“Thank you, Mr. Folsom,” he said, “you are very kind, but I think +it will be better for me to shift on what I have. Then I shall have +to go to work at once, and shall get started in my new career.” + +“Suppose you can’t find work?” suggested Folsom. + +“I will find it,” said Joe resolutely. + +“Perhaps we might take lodgings together, Joe.” + +“I can’t afford it,” said Joe. “You’re a gentleman of property, and +I’m a poor boy who has his fortune to make. For the present I must +expect to rough it.” + +“Well, Joe, perhaps you are right. At any rate, I admire your pluck +and independent spirit.” + +There was a motley crowd collected on the pier and on the beach +when Joe and his friend landed. Rough, bearded men, in Mexican +sombreros and coarse attire--many in shirt-sleeves and with their +pantaloons tucked in their boots--watched the new arrivals with +interest. + +“You needn’t feel ashamed of your clothes, Joe,” said Folsom, with +a smile. “You are better dressed than the majority of those we see.” + +Joe looked puzzled. + +“They don’t look as if they had made their fortunes,” he said. + +“Don’t judge by appearances. In a new country people are careless +of appearances. Some of these rough fellows, no doubt, have their +pockets full of gold.” + +At this moment a rough-looking fellow stepped forward and said +heartily: + +“Isn’t this Charles Folsom?” + +“Yes,” answered Folsom, puzzled. + +“You don’t remember me?” said the other, laughing. + +“Not I.” + +“Not remember Harry Carter, your old chum?” + +“Good Heaven!” exclaimed Folsom, surveying anew the rough figure +before him. “You don’t mean to say you are Harry Carter?” + +“The same, at your service.” + +“What a transformation! Why, you used to be rather a swell and +now----” + +“Now I look like a barbarian.” + +“Well, rather,” said Folsom, laughing. + +“You want me to explain? Such toggery as I used to wear would be +the height of folly at the mines.” + +“I hope you have had good luck,” said Folsom. + +“Pretty fair,” said Carter, in a tone of satisfaction. “My pile has +reached five thousand dollars.” + +“And how long have you been at work?” + +“A year. I was a bookkeeper in New York on a salary of fifteen +hundred dollars a year. I used to spend all my income--the more +fool I--till the last six months, when I laid by enough to bring me +out here.” + +“Then you have really bettered yourself?” + +“I should say so. I could only save up five hundred dollars a year +at the best in New York. Here I have crowded ten years into one.” + +“In spite of your large outlay for clothes?” + +“I see you will have your joke. Now, what brings you out here? Are +you going to the mines?” + +“Presently, but not to dig. I came to survey the country.” + +“Let me do what I can for you.” + +“I will. First, what hotel shall I go to?” + +“There is the Leidesdorff House, on California Street. I’ll lead +you there.” + +“Thank you. Will you come, Joe?” + +“Yes, I will go to find out where it is.” + +The three bent their steps to the hotel referred to. It was a +shanty compared with the magnificent hotels which now open their +portals to strangers, but the charge was ten dollars a day and the +fare was of the plainest. + +“I guess I won’t stop here,” said Joe, “My money wouldn’t keep me +here more than an hour or two.” + +“At any rate, Joe, you must dine with me,” said Folsom. “Then you +may start out for yourself.” + +“You must dine with me, both of you,” said Carter. + +Folsom saw that he was in earnest, and accepted. + +The dinner was plain but abundant, and all three did justice to it. +Joe did not know till afterward that the dinner cost five dollars +apiece. + +After dinner the two friends sat down to talk over old times and +mutual friends, but Joe felt that there was no time for him to +lose. He had his fortune to make. Still more important, he had his +living to make, and in a place where dollars were held as cheap as +dimes in New York or Boston. + +So, emerging into the street, with his small bundle under his arm, +he bent his steps as chance directed. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +JOE FINDS A JOB + + +Joe knew nothing about the streets or their names. Chance brought +him to Clay Street, between what is now Montgomery and Kearny +Streets. Outside of a low wooden building, which appeared to be a +restaurant, was a load of wood. + +“I wonder if I couldn’t get the chance to saw and split that wood?” +thought Joe. + +It would not do to be bashful. So he went in. + +A stout man in an apron was waiting on the guests. Joe concluded +that this must be the proprietor. + +“Sit down, boy,” said he, “if you want some dinner.” + +“I’ve had my dinner,” said Joe. “Don’t you want that wood outside +sawed and split?” + +“Yes.” + +“Let me do it.” + +“Go ahead.” + +There was a saw and saw-horse outside. The work was not new to Joe, +and he went at it vigorously. No bargain had been made, but Joe +knew so little of what would be considered a fair price that in +this first instance he chose to leave it to his employer. + +As he was at work Folsom and his friend passed by. + +“Have you found a job already?” said Folsom. + +“Yes, sir.” + +“You have kept your promise, Joe. You said you would take the first +job that offered.” + +“Yes, Mr. Folsom; I meant what I said.” + +“Come round to the Leidesdorff House this evening and tell me how +you made out.” + +“Thank you, sir, I will.” + +“That seems a smart boy,” said Carter. + +“Yes, he is. Help him along if you have a chance.” + +“I will. I like his pluck.” + +“He has no false pride. He is ready to do anything.” + +“Everybody is here. You know Jim Graves, who used to have his +shingle up as a lawyer on Nassau Street?” + +“Yes. Is he here?” + +“He has been here three months. What do you think he is doing?” + +“I couldn’t guess.” + +“I don’t think you could. He has turned drayman.” Charles Folsom +gazed at his friend in wonder. + +“Turned drayman!” he exclaimed. “Is he reduced to that?” + +“Reduced to that! My dear fellow, you don’t understand the use of +language. Graves is earning fifteen dollars a day at his business, +and I don’t believe he made that in New York in a month.” + +“Well, it is a strange state of society. Does he mean to be a +drayman all his life?” + +“Of course not. A year hence he may be a capitalist, or a lawyer +again. Meanwhile he is saving money.” + +“He is a sensible man, after all; but, you see, Carter, it takes +time to adjust my ideas to things here. The first surprise was your +rough appearance.” + +“There is one advantage my rough life has brought me,” said Carter. +“It has improved my health. I was given to dyspepsia when I lived +in New York. Now I really believe I could digest a tenpenny nail, +or--an eating-house mince pie, which is more difficult.” + +“You have steep hills in San Francisco.” + +“Yes, it is something of a climb to the top of Clay Street Hill. +When you get to the top you get a fine view, though.” + +Now the hill may be ascended in cars drawn up the steeply graded +sides by an endless rope running just below the surface. No such +arrangement had been thought of then. Folsom gave out when he had +completed half the ascent. + +“I’ll be satisfied with the prospect from here,” he said. + +Meanwhile Joe kept steadily at his task. + +“It will take me three hours and a half, possibly four,” he said +to himself, after a survey of the pile. “I wonder what pay I shall +receive.” + +While thus employed many persons passed him. + +One among them paused and accosted him. + +“So you have found work already?” he said. + +Looking up, Joe recognized Harry Hogan, the man who had swindled +him. He didn’t feel inclined to be very social with this man. + +“Yes,” said he coldly. + +“Rather strange work for a first-class passenger.” + +He envied Joe because he had traveled first-class, while he had +thought himself fortunate, with the help his dishonesty gave him, +in being able to come by steerage. + +“It is very suitable employment for a boy who has no money,” said +Joe. + +“How much are you going to be paid for the job?” asked Hogan, with +sudden interest, for ten dollars constituted his only remaining +funds. + +If his theft on shipboard had not been detected he would have been +better provided. + +“I don’t know,” said Joe shortly. + +“You didn’t make any bargain, then?” + +“No.” + +“What are you going to do next?” inquired Hogan. + +“I don’t know,” said Joe. + +Hogan finally moved off. + +“I hate that boy,” he soliloquized. “He puts on airs for a country +boy. So he’s getting too proud to talk to me, is he? We’ll see, Mr. +Joseph Mason.” + +Joe kept on till his task was completed, put on his coat and went +into the restaurant. + +It was the supper-hour. + +“I’ve finished the job,” said Joe, in a businesslike tone. + +The German took a look at Joe’s work. + +“You did it up good,” he said. “How much you want?” + +“I don’t know. What would be a fair price?” + +“I will give you some supper and five dollars.” + +Joe could hardly believe his ears. Five dollars and a supper for +four hours’ work! Surely he had come to the Land of Gold in very +truth. + +“Will dat do?” + +“Oh, yes,” said Joe. “I didn’t expect so much.” + +“You shouldn’t tell me dat. It isn’t business.” + +Joe pocketed the gold piece which he received with a thrill of +exultation. He had never received so much in value for a week’s +work before. Just then a man paid two dollars for a very plain +supper. + +“That makes my pay seven dollars,” said Joe to himself. “If I can +get steady work, I can get rich very quick,” he thought. + +There was one thing, however, that Joe did not take into account. +If his earnings were likely to be large, his expenses would be +large, too. So he might receive a good deal of money and not lay up +a cent. + +“Shall you have any more work to do?” asked Joe. + +“Not shoost now,” answered the German. “You can look round in a +week. Maybe I have some then.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +JOE’S HOTEL + + +Before going to the Leidesdorff House to call upon his friend +Folsom, Joe thought he would try to make arrangements for the night. + +He came to the St. Francis Hotel, on the corner of Dupont and Clay +Streets. There was an outside stair that led to the balcony that +ran all round the second story. The doors of the rooms opened upon +this balcony. + +A man came out from the office. + +“Can I get lodging here?” asked Joe. + +“Yes.” + +“How much do you charge?” + +“Three dollars.” + +“He must take me for a millionaire,” thought Joe. + +“I can’t afford it,” he said. + +As Joe descended the stairs he did not feel quite so rich. Six +dollars won’t go far when lodging costs three dollars and supper +two. + +Continuing his wanderings, Joe came to a tent, which seemed to be a +hotel in its way, for it had “Lodgings” inscribed on the canvas in +front. + +“What do you charge for lodgings?” Joe inquired. + +“A dollar,” was the reply. + +Looking in, Joe saw that the accommodations were of the plainest. +Thin pallets were spread about without pillows. Joe was not used to +luxury but to sleep here would be roughing it even for him. But he +was prepared to rough it, and concluded that he might as well pass +the night here. + +“All right!” said he. “I’ll be round by and by.” + +“Do you want to pay in advance to secure your bed?” + +“I guess not; I’ll take the risk.” + +Joe went on to the Leidesdorff Hotel and was cordially received by +Mr. Folsom. + +“How much have you earned to-day, Joe?” + +“Five dollars and my supper.” + +“That’s good. Is the job finished?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“And you have nothing in view for to-morrow?” + +“No, sir; but I guess I shall run across a job.” + +“Where are you going to spend the night?” + +“In a tent a little way down the street.” + +“How much will they charge you?” + +“One dollar.” + +“I wish my bed was large enough to hold two; you should be welcome +to a share of it. But they don’t provide very wide bedsteads in +this country.” + +Mr. Folsom’s bed was about eighteen inches wide. + +“Thank you, sir,” said Joe; “I shall do very well in the tent, I am +sure.” + +“I am thinking of making a trip to the mines with my friend +Carter,” continued Folsom. “Very likely we shall start to-morrow. +Do you want to go with us?” + +“I expect to go to the mines,” said Joe, “but I think I had better +remain awhile in San Francisco, and lay by a little money. You know +I am in debt.” + +“In debt?” + +“Yes, for my passage. I should like to pay that off.” + +“There is no hurry about it, Joe.” + +“I’d like to get it off my mind, Mr. Folsom.” + +About nine o’clock Joe left the hotel and sought the tent where he +proposed to pass the night. He was required to pay in advance, and +willingly did so. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +JOE’S SECOND DAY + + +Joe woke up at seven o’clock the next morning. Though his bed was +hard, he slept well, for he was fatigued. He stretched himself +and sat up on his pallet. It is needless to say that he had not +undressed. Three or four men were lying near him, all fast asleep +except one, and that one he recognized as Henry Hogan. + +“Halloo!” said Hogan. “You here?” + +“Yes,” said Joe, not overpleased at the meeting. + +“We seem to keep together,” said Hogan, with a grin. + +“So it seems,” said Joe coldly. + +Hogan, however, seemed disposed to be friendly. + +“Pretty rough accommodations for the money.” + +“It doesn’t make so much difference where money is earned easily.” + +“How much money did you make yesterday?” + +Joe’s first thought was to tell him it was none of his business, +but he thought better of it. + +“I made seven dollars,” said he, rather proudly. + +“Pretty good, but I beat you,” said Hogan. + +“How much did you make?” + +“I’ll show you.” + +Hogan showed five half-eagles. + +“I made it in ten minutes,” he said. + +Joe was decidedly mystified. + +“You are fooling me,” he said. + +“No, I am not. I made it at the gaming-table.” + +“Oh!” said Joe, a little startled, for he had been brought up to +think gambling wicked. + +“Better come and try your luck with me,” said Hogan. “It is easier +and quicker than sawing wood.” + +“Perhaps it is,” said Joe, “but I’d rather saw wood.” + +“I suspect you are a young Puritan.” + +“Perhaps I am,” said Joe. “At any rate, I don’t mean to gamble.” + +“Just as you like. I can’t afford to be so particular.” + +“You don’t seem to be very particular,” said Joe. + +“What do you mean?” inquired Hogan suspiciously. + +“You know well enough,” said Joe. “You know the way you had of +getting money in New York. You know the way you tried to get it on +board the steamer.” + +“Look here, young fellow,” said Hogan menacingly, “I’ve heard +enough of this. You won’t find it safe to run against me. I’m a +tough customer, you’ll find.” + +“I don’t doubt it,” said Joe. + +“Then just be careful, will you? I ain’t going to have you slander +me and prejudice people against me, and I mean to protect myself. +Do you understand me?” + +“I think I do, Mr. Hogan, but I don’t feel particularly alarmed.” + +Joe got up and went out in search of breakfast. Be thought of the +place where he took supper but was deterred from going there by the +high prices. + +“I suppose I shall have to pay a dollar for my breakfast,” he +thought, “but I can’t afford to pay two. My capital is reduced to +five dollars and I may not be able to get anything to do to-day.” + +Joe finally succeeded in finding a humble place where for a dollar +he obtained a cup of coffee, a plate of cold meat, and as much +bread as he could eat. + +“I shall have to make it do with two meals a day,” thought our +hero. “Then it will cost me three dollars a day to live, including +lodging, and I shall have to be pretty lucky to make that.” + +After breakfast Joe walked about the streets, hoping that something +would turn up. But his luck did not seem to be so good as the day +before. Hour after hour passed and no chance offered itself. As he +was walking along feeling somewhat anxious, he met Hogan. + +“Lend me a dollar,” said Hogan quickly. “I’m dead broke.” + +“Where has all your money gone?” asked Joe. + +“Lost it at faro. Lend me a dollar and I’ll win it all back.” + +“I have no money to spare,” said Joe decidedly. + +“Curse you for a young skinflint!” said Hogan, scowling. “I’ll get +even with you yet.” + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE FOILED ASSASSIN + + +About four o’clock Joe went into a restaurant and got some dinner. +In spite of his wish to be economical, his dinner bill amounted to +a dollar and a half, and now his cash in hand was reduced to two +dollars and a half. + +Joe began to feel uneasy. + +“This won’t do,” he said to himself. “At this rate I shall soon be +penniless. I must get something to do.” + +In the evening he strolled down Montgomery Street to Telegraph +Hill. It was not a very choice locality, the only buildings being +shabby little dens, frequented by a class of social outlaws who +kept concealed during the day but came out at night--a class to +which the outrages frequent at this time were rightly attributed. + +Joe was stumbling along the uneven path, when all at once he found +himself confronted by a tall fellow wearing a slouched hat. The man +paused in front of him, but did not say a word. Finding that he was +not disposed to move aside, Joe stepped aside himself. He did not +as yet suspect the fellow’s purpose. He understood it, however, +when a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder. + +“Quick, boy, your money!” said the ruffian. + +Having but two dollars and a half, Joe naturally felt reluctant to +part with it, and this gave him the courage to object. + +“I’ve got none to spare,” he said and tried to tear himself away. + +His resistance led the fellow to suspect that he had a considerable +sum with him. Joe felt himself seized and carried into a den close +by, which was frequented by thieves and desperate characters. + +There was a counter, on which was set a dim oil-lamp. There were +a few bottles in sight, and a villainous-looking fellow appeared +to preside over the establishment. The latter looked up as Joe was +brought in. + +“Who have you there?” asked the barkeeper. + +“A young cove as don’t want to part with his money.” + +“You’d better hand over what you’ve got, young ’un.” + +Joe looked from one to the other and thought he had never seen such +villainous faces before. + +“What are you lookin’ at?” demanded his captor suspiciously, “You +want to know us again, do you? Maybe you’d like to get us hauled +up, would you?” + +“I don’t want ever to set eyes on you again.” + +“That’s the way to talk. As soon as our business is over, there +ain’t no occasion for our meetin’ again. Don’t you go to point us +out, or----” + +He didn’t finish the sentence, but whipped out a long knife, which +made any further remarks unnecessary. + +Under the circumstances, resistance would be madness and Joe drew +out his money. + +“Is that all you’ve got?” demanded the thief. + +“Every cent,” said Joe. “It won’t leave me anything to pay for my +night’s lodging.” + +“Then you can sleep out. I’ve done it many a time. But I’ll take +the liberty of searching you, and seeing if you tell the truth or +not.” + +“Just as you like,” said Joe. + +Joe was searched, but no more money was found. + +“The boy’s told the truth,” said his captor. “Two dollars and a +half is a pretty small haul.” + +“I am sorry, gentlemen, that I haven’t anything more. It isn’t +my fault, for I’ve tried hard to get something to do to-day, and +couldn’t.” + +“You’re a cool customer,” said the barkeeper. + +“I expect to be to-night, for I shall have to sleep out.” + +“You can go,” said his captor, as he opened the door of the den; +“and don’t come round here again, unless you’ve got more money with +you.” + +“I don’t think I shall,” said Joe. + +When Joe found himself penniless, he really felt less anxious than +when he had at least money enough to pay for lodging and breakfast. +Having lost everything, any turn of fortune must be for the better. + +“Something has got to turn up pretty quick,” thought Joe. “It’s +just as well I didn’t get a job to-day. I should only have had more +money to lose.” + +He had not walked a hundred feet when his attention was called +to the figure of a gentleman walking some rods in front of him. +He saw it but indistinctly, and would not have given it a second +thought had he not seen that the person, whoever he might be, was +stealthily followed by a man who in general appearance resembled +the rascal who had robbed him of his money. The pursuer carried in +his hand a canvas bag filled with sand. This, though Joe did not +know it, was a dangerous weapon in the hands of a lawless human. +Brought down heavily upon the head of an unlucky traveler, it often +produced instant death, without leaving any outward marks that +would indicate death from violence. + +Though Joe didn’t comprehend the use of the sand-bag, his own +recent experience and the stealthy movement of the man behind +convinced him that mischief was intended. He would have been +excusable if, being but a boy and no match for an able-bodied +ruffian, he had got out of the way. But Joe had more courage than +falls to the share of most boys of sixteen. He felt a chivalrous +desire to rescue the unsuspecting stranger from the peril that +menaced him. + +Joe, too, imitating the stealthy motion of the pursuer, swiftly +gained upon him, overtaking him just as he had the sand-bag poised +aloft, ready to be brought down upon the head of the traveler. + +With a cry, Joe rushed upon the would-be assassin, causing him to +stumble and fall, while the gentleman in front turned round in +amazement. + +Joe sprang to his side. + +“Have you a pistol?” he said quickly. + +Scarcely knowing what he did, the gentleman drew out a pistol and +put it in Joe’s hand. Joe cocked it, and stood facing the ruffian. + +The desperado was on his feet, fury in his looks and a curse upon +his lips. He swung the sand-bag aloft. + +“Curse you!” he said. “I’ll make you pay for this!” + +“One step forward,” said Joe, in a clear, distinct voice, which +betrayed not a particle of fear, “and I will put a bullet through +your brain!” + +The assassin stepped back. He was a coward, who attacked from +behind. He looked in the boy’s resolute face, and he saw he was in +earnest. + +“Put down that weapon, you whipper-snapper!” + +“Not much!” answered Joe. + +“I’ve a great mind to kill you!” + +“I’ve no doubt of it,” said our hero; “but you’d better not attack +me. I am armed, and I will fire if you make it necessary. Now, turn +round and leave us.” + +“Will you promise not to shoot?” + +“Yes, if you go off quietly.” + +The order was obeyed, but not very willingly. + +When the highwayman had moved off, Joe said: + +“Now, sir, we’d better be moving, and pretty quickly, or the fellow +may return, with some of his friends, and overpower us. Where are +you stopping?” + +“At the Waverly House.” + +“That is near-by. We will go there at once.” + +They soon reached the hotel, a large wooden building on the north +side of Pacific Street. + +Joe was about to bid his acquaintance good night but the latter +detained him. + +“Come in, my boy,” he said. “You have done me a great service. I +must know more of you.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +JOE’S NEW FRIEND + + +“Come up to my room,” said the stranger. + +He obtained a candle at the office, gas not being used in San +Francisco at that time, and led the way to a small chamber on the +second floor. + +“Now, sit down, my boy, and tell me your name.” + +“Joseph Mason.” + +“How long have you been here?” + +“Less than a week.” + +“I only arrived yesterday. But for your help, my residence might +have been a brief one.” + +“I am glad I have been able to be of service to you.” + +“You were a friend in need, and a friend in need is a friend +indeed. It is only fair that I should be a friend to you. It’s a +poor rule that doesn’t work both ways.” + +Joe was favorably impressed with the speaker’s appearance. He was a +man of middle height, rather stout, with a florid complexion, and +an open, friendly face. + +“Thank you, sir,” he said, “I need a friend, and shall be glad of +your friendship.” + +“Then here’s my hand. Take it, and let us ratify our friendship.” + +Joe took the proffered hand and shook it cordially. + +“My name is George Morgan,” said the stranger. “I came from +Philadelphia. Now we know each other. Where are you staying?” + +Joe’s face flushed and he looked embarrassed. + +“Just before I came up with you,” he answered, thinking frankness +best, “I was robbed of two dollars and a half, all the money I had +in this world. I shall have to stop in the streets to-night.” + +“Not if I know it,” said Morgan emphatically. “This bed isn’t very +large, but you are welcome to a share of it. To-morrow we will form +our plans.” + +“Shan’t I inconvenience you, sir?” asked Joe. + +“Not a bit,” answered Morgan heartily. + +“Then I will stay, sir, and thank you. After the adventure I have +had to-night, I shouldn’t enjoy being out in the streets.” + +“Tell me how you came to be robbed. Was it by the same man who made +the attack upon me?” + +“No, sir. I wish it had been, as then I should feel even with him. +It was a man that looked very much like him, though.” + +Joe gave an account of the robbery, to which his new friend +listened with attention. + +“Evidently,” he said, “the street we were in is not a very safe +one. Have you had any supper?” + +“Oh, yes, sir. Luckily, I got that and paid for it before I had my +money taken.” + +“Good. Now, as I am tired, I will go to bed, and you can follow +when you feel inclined.” + +“I will go now, sir. I have been walking the streets all day, in +search of work, and, though I found none, I am tired, all the same.” + +They woke up at seven o’clock. + +“How did you rest, Joe?” asked George Morgan. + +“Very well, sir.” + +“Do you feel ready for breakfast?” + +“As soon as I can earn money enough to pay for it.” + +“Don’t trouble yourself about that. You are going to breakfast with +me.” + +“You are very kind, Mr. Morgan, but I wish you had some work for me +to do, so that I could pay you.” + +“That may come after awhile. It might not be safe to delay your +breakfast till you could pay for it. Remember, you have done me a +great service, which fifty breakfasts couldn’t pay for.” + +“Don’t think of that, Mr. Morgan,” said Joe modestly. “Anybody +would do what I did.” + +“I am not sure whether everybody would have the courage. But you +must leave me to show my appreciation of your services in my own +way.” + +They took breakfast in the hotel and walked out. + +Though it was early, the town was already astir. People got up +early in those days. Building was going on here and there. Draymen +were piloting heavy loads through the streets--rough enough in +general appearance, but drawn from very unlikely social grades. + +“By Jove!” said Morgan, in surprise, his glance resting on a young +man of twenty-five, who was in command of a dray. “Do you hear that +drayman?” + +“Is he a foreigner?” asked Joe. “I don’t understand what he is +saying.” + +“He is talking to his horse in Greek, quoting from Homer. Look +here, my friend!” he said, hailing the drayman. + +“What is it, sir?” said the young man courteously. + +“Didn’t I hear you quoting Greek just now?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“How happens it that a classical scholar like you finds himself in +such a position?” + +The young man smiled. + +“How much do you think I am earning?” + +“I can’t guess. I am a stranger in this city.” + +“Twenty dollars a day.” + +“Capital! I don’t feel as much surprised as I did. Are you a +college graduate?” + +“Yes, sir. I was graduated at Yale. Then I studied law and three +months since I came out here. It takes time to get into practise +at home and I had no resources to fall back upon. I raised money +enough to bring me to California and came near starving the +first week I was here. I couldn’t wait to get professional work, +but I had an offer to drive a dray. I am a farmer’s son and was +accustomed to hard work as a boy. I accepted the offer and here I +am. I can lay up half my earnings and am quite satisfied.” + +“But you won’t be a drayman all your life?” + +“Oh, no, sir. But I may as well keep at it till I can get into +something more to my taste.” + +And the young lawyer drove off. + +“It’s a queer country,” said Morgan. “It’s hard to gauge a man by +his occupation here, I see.” + +“I wish I could get a dray to drive,” said Joe. + +“You are not old enough or strong enough yet. I am looking for +some business myself, Joe, but I can’t at all tell what I shall +drift into. At home I was a dry-goods merchant. My partner and I +disagreed and I sold out to him. I drew ten thousand dollars out +of the concern, invested four-fifths of it, and have come out here +with the remainder, to see what I can do.” + +“Ten thousand dollars! What a rich man you must be!” said Joe. + +“In your eyes, my boy. As you get older, you will find that it +will not seem so large to you. At any rate, I hope to increase it +considerably.” + +They were walking on Kearny Street, near California Street, when +Joe’s attention was drawn, to a sign: + + =THIS RESTAURANT FOR SALE= + +It was a one-story building, of small dimensions, not fashionable, +nor elegant in its appointments, but there wasn’t much style in San +Francisco at that time. + +“Would you like to buy out the restaurant?” asked Morgan. + +“I don’t feel like buying anything out with empty pockets,” said +Joe. + +“Let us go in.” + +The proprietor was a man of middle age. + +“Why do you wish to sell out?” asked Morgan. + +“I want to go to the mines. I need an out-of-door life and want a +change.” + +“Does this business pay?” + +“Sometimes I have made seventy-five dollars profit in a day.” + +“How much do you ask for the business?” + +“I’ll take five hundred dollars, cash.” + +“Have you a reliable cook?” + +“Yes. He knows his business.” + +“Will he stay?” + +“For the present. If you want a profitable business, you will do +well to buy.” + +“I don’t want it for myself. I want it for this young man.” + +“For this boy?” asked the restaurant-keeper, surprised. + +Joe looked equally surprised. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +JOE STARTS IN BUSINESS + + +“Do you think you can keep a hotel, Joe?” asked Morgan. + +“I can try,” said Joe promptly. + +“Come in, gentlemen,” said the restaurant-keeper. + +“We can talk best inside.” + +The room was small, holding but six tables. In the rear was the +kitchen. + +“Let me see your scale of prices,” said Morgan. + +It was shown him. + +“I could breakfast cheaper at Delmonico’s,” he said. + +“And better,” said the proprietor of the restaurant; “but I find +people here willing to pay big prices, and, as long as that’s the +case, I should be a fool to reduce them. Yes, there’s a splendid +profit to be made in the business. I ought to charge a thousand +dollars, instead of five hundred.” + +“Why don’t you?” asked Morgan bluntly. + +“Because I couldn’t get it. Most men, when they come out here, are +not content to settle down in the town. They won’t be satisfied +till they get to the mines.” + +“That seems to be the case with you, too.” + +“It isn’t that altogether. My lungs are weak and confinement isn’t +good for me. Besides, the doctors say the climate in the interior +is better for pulmonary affections.” + +“What rent do you have to pay?” + +“A small ground-rent. I put up this building myself.” + +“How soon can you give possession?” + +“Right off.” + +“Will you stay here three days, to initiate my young friend into +the mysteries of the business?” + +“Oh, yes; I’ll do that willingly.” + +“Then I will buy you out.” + +In five minutes the business was settled. + +“Joe,” said Morgan, “let me congratulate you. You are now one of +the business men of San Francisco.” + +“It seems like a dream to me, Mr. Morgan,” said Joe. “This morning +when I waked up I wasn’t worth a cent.” + +“And now you own five hundred dollars,” said Mr. Morgan, laughing. + +“That wasn’t exactly the way I thought of it, sir, but are you not +afraid to trust me to that amount?” + +“No, I am not, Joe,” said Morgan seriously. “I think you are a boy +of energy and integrity. I don’t see why you shouldn’t succeed.” + +“Suppose I shouldn’t?” + +“I shall not trouble myself about the loss. In all probability, you +saved my life last evening. That is worth to me many times what I +have invested for you.” + +“I want to give you my note for the money,” said Joe. “If I live, I +will pay you, with interest.” + +“I agree with you. We may as well put it on a business basis.” + +Papers were drawn up, and Joe found himself proprietor of the +restaurant. He lost no opportunity of mastering the details of the +business. He learned where his predecessor obtained his supplies, +what prices he paid, about how much he required for a day’s +consumption, and what was his scale of prices. + +“Do you live here, Mr. Brock?” asked Joe. + +“Yes; I have a bed, which I lay in a corner of the restaurant. Thus +I avoid the expense of a room outside, and am on hand early for +business.” + +“I’ll do the same,” said Joe promptly. + +“In that way you will have no personal expenses, except clothing +and washing,” said Brock. + +“I shall be glad to have no bills to pay for board,” said Joe. +“That’s rather a steep item here.” + +“So it is.” + +“I don’t see but I can save up pretty much all I make,” said Joe. + +“Certainly you can.” + +In two days Joe, who was naturally quick and whose natural +shrewdness was sharpened by his personal interest, mastered the +details of the business, and felt that he could manage alone. + +“Mr. Brock,” said he, “you promised to stay with me three days, but +I won’t insist upon the third day. I think I can get along well +without you.” + +“If you can, I shall be glad to leave you at once. The fact is, a +friend of mine starts for the mines to-morrow, and I would like to +accompany him. I asked him to put it off a day, but he thinks he +can’t.” + +“Go with him, by all means. I can get along.” + +So, on the morning of the third day, Joe found himself alone. + +At the end of the first week he made a careful estimate of his +expenses and receipts, and found, to his astonishment, that he had +cleared two hundred dollars. It seemed to him almost incredible, +and he went over the calculations again and again. But he could +figure out no other result. + +“Two hundred dollars in one week!” he said to himself. “What would +Oscar say to that? It seems like a fairy tale.” + +Joe did not forget that he was five hundred dollars In debt. He +went to George Morgan, who had bought out for himself a gentlemen’s +furnishing store, and said: + +“Mr. Morgan, I want to pay up a part of that debt.” + +“So soon, Joe? How much do you want to pay?” + +“A hundred and fifty dollars.” + +“You don’t mean to say that you have cleared that amount?” said +Morgan, in amazement. + +“Yes, sir, and fifty dollars more.” + +“Very well. I will receive the money. You do well to wipe out your +debts as soon as possible.” + +Joe paid over the money with no little satisfaction. + +Without going too much into detail, it may be stated that at the +end of a month Joe was out of debt and had three hundred dollars +over. He called on the owner of the land to pay the monthly +ground-rent. + +“Why don’t you buy the land, and get rid of the rent?” asked the +owner. + +“Do you want to sell?” asked Joe. + +“Yes; I am about to return to the East.” + +“What do you ask?” + +“I own two adjoining lots. You may have them all for a thousand +dollars.” + +“Will you give me time?” + +“I can’t. I want to return at once, and I must have the cash.” + +A thought struck Joe. + +“I will take three hours to consider,” said Joe. + +He went to George Morgan and broached his business. + +“Mr. Morgan,” he said, “will you lend me seven hundred dollars?” + +“Are you getting into pecuniary difficulties, Joe?” asked Morgan, +concerned. + +“No, sir; but I want to buy some real estate.” + +“Explain yourself.” + +Joe did so. + +“It is the best thing you can do,” said Morgan, “I will lend you +the money.” + +“I hope to repay it inside of two months,” said Joe. + +“I think you will, judging from what you have done already.” + +In two hours Joe had paid over the entire amount, for it will be +remembered that he had three hundred dollars of his own, and was +owner of three city lots. + +“Now,” thought he, “I must attend to business, and clear off the +debt I have incurred. I shan’t feel as if the land is mine till I +have paid for it wholly.” + +Joe found it a great advantage that he obtained his own board and +lodging free. Though wages were high, the necessary expenses of +living were so large that a man earning five dollars a day was +worse off oftentimes than one who was earning two dollars at the +East. + +“How shall I make my restaurant more attractive?” thought Joe. + +He decided first that he would buy good articles and insist upon +as much neatness as possible about the tables. At many of the +restaurants very little attention was paid to this, and visitors +who had been accustomed to neatness at home were repelled. + +Soon Joe’s dining-room acquired a reputation, and the patronage +increased. At the end of the third month he had not only paid up +the original loan of seven hundred dollars, but was the owner of +the three lots, and had four hundred dollars over. He began to feel +that his prosperity was founded on a solid basis. + +One day about this time, as he was at the desk where he received +money from his patrons as they went out, his attention was drawn to +a rough fellow, having the appearance of a tramp, entering at the +door. The man’s face seemed familiar to him, and it flashed upon +him that it was Henry Hogan, who had defrauded him in New York. + +The recognition was mutual. + +“You here?” he exclaimed, in surprise. + +“So it seems,” said Joe. + +“Is it a good place?” + +“I like it.” + +“Who’s your boss?” + +“Myself.” + +“You don’t mean to say this is your own place?” + +“Yes, I do.” + +“Well, I’ll be blowed!” ejaculated Hogan, staring stupidly at Joe. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +MR. HOGAN’S PROPOSAL + + +Joe enjoyed Hogan’s amazement. He felt rather proud of his rapid +progress. It was not four months since, a poor, country boy, he had +come up to New York, and fallen a prey to a designing sharper. Now, +on the other side of the continent, he was master of a business and +owner of real estate. + +The day has passed for such rapid progress. California is no longer +a new country, and the conditions of living closely approximate +those in the East. I am careful to say this because I don’t wish to +mislead my young readers. Success is always attainable by pluck and +persistency, but the degree is dependent on circumstances. + +“How have you made out?” asked Joe of his visitor. + +“I’ve had hard luck,” grumbled Hogan, “I went to the mines, but I +wasn’t lucky.” + +“Was that the case with other miners?” asked Joe, who had a shrewd +suspicion that Hogan’s ill-luck was largely the result of his +laziness and want of application. + +“No,” said Hogan. “Other men around me were lucky, but I wasn’t.” + +“Perhaps your claim was a poor one.” + +“It was, as long as I had anything to do with it,” said Hogan. “I +sold it out for a trifle and the next day the other man found a +nugget. Wasn’t that cursed hard?” he grumbled. + +“You ought to have kept on. Then you would have found the nugget.” + +“No, I shouldn’t. I am too unlucky. If I had held on, it wouldn’t +have been there. You’ve got on well. You’re lucky.” + +“Yes; I have no reason to complain. But I wasn’t lucky all the +time. I was robbed of every cent of money, when I met a good +friend, who bought this business for me.” + +“Does it pay?” asked the other eagerly. + +“Yes, it pays,” said Joe cautiously. + +“How much do you make, say, in a week?” asked Hogan, leaning his +elbows on the counter and looking up in Joe’s face. + +“Really, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “I don’t feel called upon to tell my +business to others.” + +“I thought maybe you’d tell an old friend,” said Hogan. + +Joe could not help laughing at the man’s matchless impudence. + +“I don’t think you have treated me exactly like a friend, Mr. +Hogan,” he said. “You certainly did all you could to prevent my +coming to California.” + +“There’s some mistake about that,” said Hogan. + +“You’re under a misapprehension; but I won’t go into that matter +now. Will you trust me for my supper?” + +“Yes,” said Joe promptly. “Sit down at that table.” + +The man had treated him badly, but things had turned out favorably +for Joe, and he would not let Hogan suffer from hunger, if he could +relieve him. + +Hogan needed no second invitation. He took a seat at a table +near-by, and ate enough for two men, but Joe could not repeat the +invitation he had given. He felt that he could not afford it. + +It was rather late when Hogan sat down. When he finished, he was +the only one left in the restaurant, except Joe. He sauntered up to +the desk. + +“You’ve got a good cook,” said Hogan, picking his teeth with a +knife. + +“Yes,” answered Joe. “I think so.” + +“You say the business pays well?” + +“Yes; it satisfies me.” + +“Are you alone? Have you no partner?” + +“You could do better with one. Suppose you take me into business +with you?” + +Joe was considerably surprised at this proposition from a man who +had swindled him. + +“How much capital can you furnish?” he asked. + +“I haven’t got any money. I’m dead broke,” said Hogan, “but I can +give my services. I can wait on the table. I’ll do that, and you +can give me my board and one-third of the profits. Come, now, +that’s a good offer. What do you say?” + +Joe thought it best to be candid. + +“I don’t want any partner, Mr. Hogan,” he said; “and I may as well +tell you, I don’t think I should care to be associated with you if +I did.” + +“Do you mean to insult me?” asked Hogan, scowling. + +“No; but I may as well be candid.” + +“What’s the matter with me?” asked Hogan roughly. + +“I don’t like the way you do business,” said Joe. + +“Look here, young one, you put on too many airs just because you’re +keepin’ a one-horse restaurant,” said Hogan angrily. + +“If it’s a one-horse restaurant, why do you want to become my +partner?” retorted Joe coolly. + +“Because I’m hard up--I haven’t got a cent.” + +“I’m sorry for you; but a man needn’t be in that condition long +here.” + +“Where do you sleep?” asked Hogan suddenly. + +“Here. I put a bed on the floor in one corner, and so am on hand in +the morning.” + +“I say,” Hogan continued insinuatingly, “won’t you let me stay here +to-night?” + +“Sleep here?” + +“Yes.” + +“I’d rather not, Mr. Hogan.” + +“I haven’t a cent to pay for a lodging. If you don’t take me in, I +shall have to stay in the street all night.” + +“You’ve slept out at the mines, haven’t you?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then you can do it here.” + +“You’re hard on a poor man,” whined Hogan. “It wouldn’t cost you +anything to let me sleep here.” + +“No, it wouldn’t,” said Joe; “but I prefer to choose my own company +at night.” + +“I may catch my death of cold,” said Hogan. + +“I hope not; but I don’t keep lodgings,” said Joe firmly. + +“You haven’t any feeling for an unlucky man.” + +“I have given you your supper, and not stinted you in any way. +What you ate would cost two dollars at my regular prices. I wasn’t +called to do it, for you never did me any service, and you are +owing me to-day fifty dollars, which you cheated me out of when I +was a poor boy. I won’t let you lodge here, but I will give you a +breakfast in the morning, if you choose to come round. Then you +will be strengthened for a day’s work, and can see what you can +find to do.” + +Hogan saw that Joe was in earnest and walked out of the restaurant, +without a word. + +When Joe was about to close his doors for the night his attention +was drawn to a man who was sitting down on the ground, a few feet +distant, with his head buried between his two hands, in an attitude +expressive of despondency. + +Joe was warm-hearted and sympathetic, and, after a moment’s +hesitation, addressed the stranger. + +“Is anything the matter with you, sir?” he asked. “Don’t you feel +well?” + +The man addressed raised his head. He was a stout, strongly built +man, roughly dressed, but had a look which inspired confidence. + +“I may as well tell you, boy,” he answered, “though you can’t help +me. I’ve been a cursed fool, that’s what’s the matter.” + +“If you don’t mind telling me,” said Joe gently, “perhaps I can be +of service to you.” + +The man shook his head. + +“I don’t think you can,” he said, “but I’ll tell you, for all that. +Yesterday I came up from the mines with two thousand dollars. I was +about a year getting it together, and to me it was a fortune. I’m +a shoemaker by occupation, and lived in a town in Massachusetts, +where I have a wife and two young children. I left them a year ago +to go to the mines. I did well, and the money I told you about +would have made us all comfortable, if I could only have got it +home.” + +“Were you robbed of it?” asked Joe, remembering his own experience. + +“Yes; I was robbed of it, but not in the way you are thinking of. A +wily scoundrel induced me to enter a gambling-den, the Bella Union, +they call it. I wouldn’t play at first, but soon the fascination +seized me. I saw a man win a hundred dollars, and I thought I could +do the same, so I began, and won a little. Then I lost, and played +on to get my money back. In just an hour I was cleaned out of all +I had. Now I am penniless, and my poor family will suffer for my +folly.” + +He buried his face in his hands once more and, strong man as he +was, he wept aloud. + +“Have you had any supper, sir?” said Joe compassionately. + +“No; but I have no appetite.” + +“Have you any place to sleep?” + +“No.” + +“Then I can offer you a supper and a night’s lodging. Don’t be +discouraged. In the morning we can talk the matter over, and see +what can be done.” + +The stranger rose and laid his hand on Joe’s arm. + +“I don’t know how it is,” he said, “but your words give me courage. +I believe you have saved my life. I have a revolver left and I had +a mind to blow my brains out.” + +“Would that have helped you or your family?” + +“No, boy. I was a fool to think of it. I’ll accept your offer, and +to-morrow I’ll see what I can do. You’re the best friend I’ve met +since I left home.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE UNLUCKY MINER + + +Joe brought out some cold meat and bread and butter, and set it +before his guest. + +“The fire’s gone out,” he said, “or I would give you some tea. Here +is a glass of milk, if you like it.” + +“Thank you, boy,” said his visitor. “Milk is good enough for +anybody. One thing I can say, I’ve steered clear of liquor. A +brother of mine was intemperate and that was a warning to me. I +took credit to myself for being a steady-going man, compared with +many of my acquaintances out at the mines. But it don’t do to +boast. I’ve done worse, perhaps. I’ve gambled away the provision I +had made for my poor family.” + +“Don’t take it too hard,” said Joe, in a tone of sympathy. “You +know how it is out here. Down to-day and up to-morrow.” + +“It’ll take me a long time to get up to where I was,” said the +other; “but it’s my fault, and I must make the best of it.” + +Joe observed, with satisfaction, that his visitor was doing ample +justice to the supper spread before him. With a full stomach, he +would be likely to take more cheerful views of life and the future. +In this thought Joe proved to be correct. + +“I didn’t think I could eat anything,” said the miner, laying down +his knife and fork, twenty minutes later, “but I have made a hearty +supper, thanks to your kindness. Things look a little brighter to +me now. I’ve had a hard pullback, but all is not lost. I’ve got to +stay here a year or two longer, instead of going back by the next +steamer; but I must make up my mind to that. What is your name, +boy?” + +“Joe Mason.” + +“You’ve been kind to me, and I won’t forget it. It doesn’t seem +likely I can return the favor, but I’ll do it if ever I can. Good +night to you.” + +“Where are you going?” asked Joe, surprised, as the miner walked to +the door. + +“Out into the street.” + +“But where do you mean to pass the night?” + +“Where a man without money must--in the street.” + +“But you mustn’t do that.” + +“I shan’t mind it. I’ve slept out at the mines many a night.” + +“But won’t you find it more comfortable here?” + +“Yes; but I don’t want to intrude. You’ve given me a good supper +and that is all I can expect.” + +“He doesn’t seem much like Hogan,” thought Joe. + +“You are welcome to lodge here with me,” he said. “It will cost you +nothing and will be more comfortable for you.” + +“You don’t know me, Joe,” said the miner. “How do you know but I +may get up in the night and rob you?” + +“You could, but I don’t think you will,” said Joe. “I am not at all +afraid of it. You look like an honest man.” + +The miner looked gratified. + +“You shan’t repent your confidence, Joe,” he said. + +“I’d rather starve than rob a good friend like you. But you mustn’t +trust everybody.” + +“I don’t,” said Joe. “I refused a man to-night--a man named Hogan.” + +“Hogan?” + +“Yes.” + +“What does he look like?” + +Joe described him. + +“It’s the very man,” said the miner. + +“Do you know him, then?” + +“Yes; he was out at our diggings. Nobody liked him, or trusted him. +He was too lazy to work, but just loafed around, complaining of his +luck. One night I caught him in my tent, just going to rob me. I +warned him to leave the camp next day or I’d report him, and the +boys would have strung him up. That’s the way they treat thieves +out there.” + +“It doesn’t surprise me to hear it,” said Joe. “He robbed me of +fifty dollars in New York.” + +“He did? How was that?” + +Joe told the story. + +“The mean skunk!” ejaculated Watson--for this Joe found to be the +miner’s name. “It’s mean enough to rob a man, but to cheat a poor +boy out of all he has is a good deal meaner. And yet you gave him +supper?” + +“Yes. The man was hungry; I pitied him.” + +“You’re a better Christian than I am. I’d have let him go hungry.” + +Both Joe and the miner were weary and they soon retired, but not to +uninterrupted slumber. About midnight they were disturbed, as the +next chapter will show. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +HOGAN MEETS A CONGENIAL SPIRIT + + +When Hogan left Joe’s presence he was far from feeling as grateful +as he ought for the kindness with which our hero had treated him. +Instead of feeling thankful for the bountiful supper, he was angry +because Joe had not permitted him to remain through the night. Had +he obtained this favor, he would have resented the refusal to take +him into partnership. There are some men who are always soliciting +favors, and demanding them as a right, and Hogan was one of them. + +Out in the street he paused a minute, undecided where to go. He had +no money, as he had truly said, or he would have been tempted to go +to a gambling-house, and risk it on a chance of making more. + +“Curse that boy!” he muttered, as he sauntered along in the +direction of Telegraph Hill. “Who’d have thought a green country +clodhopper would have gone up as he has, while an experienced man +of the world like me is out at the elbows and without a cent!” + +The more Hogan thought of this, the more indignant he became. + +He thrust both hands into his pantaloons pockets, and strode +moodily on. + +“I say it’s a cursed shame!” he muttered. “I never did have any +luck, that’s a fact. Just see how luck comes to some. With only a +dollar or two in his pocket, this Joe got trusted for a first-class +passage out here, while I had to come in the steerage. Then, +again, he meets some fool, who sets him up in business. Nobody +ever offered to set me up in business!” continued Hogan, feeling +aggrieved at Fortune for her partiality. “Nobody even offered to +give me a start in life. I have to work hard, and that’s all the +good it does.” + +The fact was that Hogan had not done a whole day’s work for years. +But such men are very apt to deceive themselves and possibly he +imagined himself a hard-working man. + +“It’s disgusting to see the airs that boy puts on,” he continued +to soliloquize. “It’s nothing but luck. He can’t help getting on, +with everybody to help him. Why didn’t he let me sleep in his place +to-night? It wouldn’t have cost him a cent.” + +Then Hogan drifted off into calculations of how much money Joe was +making by his business. He knew the prices charged for meals and +that they afforded a large margin of profit. + +The more he thought of it, the more impressed he was with the +extent of Joe’s luck. + +“The boy must be making his fortune,” he said to himself. “Why, he +can’t help clearing from one to two hundred dollars a week--perhaps +more. It’s a money-making business, there’s no doubt of it. Why +couldn’t he take me in as partner? That would set me on my legs +again, and in time I’d be rich. I’d make him sell out, and get the +whole thing after awhile.” + +So Hogan persuaded himself into the conviction that Joe ought to +have accepted him as partner, though why this should be, since his +only claim rested on his successful attempt to defraud him in New +York, it would be difficult to conjecture. + +Sauntering slowly along, Hogan had reached the corner of Pacific +Street, then a dark and suspicious locality in the immediate +neighborhood of a number of low public houses of bad reputation. +The night was dark, for there was no moon. + +Suddenly he felt himself seized in a tight grip, while a low, stern +voice in his ear demanded: + +“Your money, and be quick about it!” + +Hogan was not a brave man, but this demand, in his impecunious +condition, instead of terrifying him, struck his sense of humor as +an exceedingly good joke. + +“You’ve got the wrong man!” he chuckled. + +“Stop your fooling, and hand over your money, quickly!” was the +stern rejoinder. + +“My dear friend,” said Hogan, “if you can find any money about me, +it’s more than I can do myself.” + +“Are you on the square?” demanded the other suspiciously. + +“Look at me, and see.” + +The highwayman took him at his word. Lighting a match, he surveyed +his captive. + +“You don’t look wealthy, that’s a fact,” he admitted. “Where are +you going?” + +“I don’t know. I haven’t got any money, nor any place to sleep.” + +“Then you’d better be leaving this place, or another mistake may be +made.” + +“Stop!” said Hogan, with a sudden thought. “Though I haven’t any +money, I can tell you where we can both find some.” + +“Do you mean it?” + +“Yes.” + +“Come in here, then, and come to business.” + +He led Hogan into a low shanty on Pacific Street, and, bidding him +be seated on a broken settee, waited for particulars. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +READY FOR MISCHIEF + + +Though Hogan was a scamp in the superlative degree, the burly +ruffian who seated himself by his side looked the character much +better. He was not a man to beat about the bush. As he expressed +it, he wanted to come to business at once. + +“What’s your game, pard?” he demanded. “Out with it.” + +Hogan’s plan, as the reader has already surmised, was to break into +Joe’s restaurant and seize whatever money he might be found to have +on the premises. He recommended it earnestly, for two reasons. +First, a share of the money would be welcome; and, secondly, +he would be gratified to revenge himself upon the boy, whom he +disliked because he had injured him. + +Jack Rafferty listened in silence. + +“I don’t know about it,” he said. “There’s a risk.” + +“I don’t see any risk. We two ought to be a match for a boy.” + +“Of course we are. If we wasn’t I’d go hang myself up for a +milksop. Are you sure there’s no one else with him?” + +“Not a soul.” + +“That’s well, so far; but we might be seen from the outside.” + +“We can keep watch.” + +“Do you think the boy’s got much money about him?” + +“Yes; he’s making money hand over fist. He’s one of those mean +chaps that never spend a cent, but lay it all by. Bah!” + +So Hogan expressed his contempt for Joe’s frugality. + +“All the better for us. How much might there be now, do you think?” + +“Five hundred dollars, likely.” + +“That’s worth risking something for,” said Jack thoughtfully. + +“We’ll share alike?” inquired Hogan anxiously. + +“Depends on how much you help about gettin’ the money,” said Jack +carelessly. + +Hogan, who was not very courageous, did not dare push the matter +though he would have liked a more definite assurance. However, +he had another motive besides the love of money, and was glad to +have the cooperation of Rafferty, though secretly afraid of his +ruffianly accomplice. + +It was agreed to wait till midnight. Till then both men threw +themselves down and slept. + +As the clock indicated midnight, Rafferty shook Hogan roughly. + +The latter sat up and gazed, in terrified bewilderment, at Jack, +who was leaning over him, forgetting for the moment the compact +into which he had entered. + +“What do you want?” he ejaculated. + +“It’s time we were about our business,” growled Jack. + +“It’s struck twelve.” + +“All right!” responded Hogan, who began to feel nervous, now that +the crisis was at hand. + +“Don’t sit rubbing your eyes, man, but get up.” + +“Haven’t you got a drop of something to brace me up?” asked Hogan +nervously. + +“What are you scared of, pard?” asked Rafferty contemptuously. + +“Nothing,” answered Hogan, “but I feel dry.” + +“All right. A drop of something will warm us both up.” + +Jack went behind the counter, and, selecting a bottle of rot-gut +whisky, poured out a stiff glassful apiece. + +“Drink it, pard,” he said. + +Hogan did so, nothing loath. + +“That’s the right sort,” he said, smacking his lips. “It’s warming +to the stomach.” + +So it was and a frequent indulgence in the vile liquid would +probably have burned his stomach and unfitted it for service. But +the momentary effect was stimulating, and inspired Hogan with a +kind of Dutch courage, which raised him in the opinion of his burly +confederate. + +“Push ahead, pard,” said he. “I’m on hand.” + +“That’s the way to talk,” said Rafferty approvingly. “If we’re +lucky, we’ll be richer before morning.” + +Through the dark streets, unlighted and murky, the two confederates +made their stealthy way, and in five minutes stood in front of +Joe’s restaurant. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CHECKMATED + + +Everything looked favorable for their plans. Of course, the +restaurant was perfectly dark, and the street was quite deserted. + +“How shall we get in?” asked Hogan of his more experienced +accomplice. + +“No trouble--through the winder.” + +Rafferty had served an apprenticeship at the burglar’s trade, and +was not long in opening the front window. He had no light and could +not see that Joe had a companion. If he had discovered this, he +would have been more cautious. + +“Go in and get the money,” said he to Hogan. + +He thought it possible that Hogan might object, but the latter had +a reason for consenting. He thought he might obtain for himself the +lion’s share of the plunder, while, as to risk, there would be no +one but Joe to cope with, and Hogan knew that in physical strength +he must be more than a match for a boy of sixteen. + +“All right!” said Hogan. “You stay at the window and give the alarm +if we are seen.” + +Rafferty was prompted by a suspicion of Hogan’s good faith in +the proposal he made to him. His ready compliance lulled this +suspicion, and led him to reflect that, perhaps, he could do the +work better himself. + +“No,” said he. “I’ll go in and you keep watch at the winder.” + +“I’m willing to go in,” said Hogan, fearing that he would not get +his fair share of the plunder. + +“You stay where you are, pard!” said Rafferty, in a tone of +command. “I’ll manage this thing myself.” + +“Just as you say,” said Hogan, slightly disappointed. + +Rafferty clambered into the room, making as little noise as +possible. He stood still a moment, to accustom his eyes to the +darkness. His plan was to discover where Joe lay, wake him +up, and force him, by threats of instant death as the penalty +for non-compliance, to deliver up all the money he had in the +restaurant. + +Now, it happened that Joe and his guest slept in opposite corners +of the room. Rafferty discovered Joe, but was entirely ignorant of +the presence of another person in the apartment. + +Joe waked on being rudely shaken. + +“Who is it?” he muttered drowsily. + +“Never mind who it is!” growled Jack in his ear. “It’s a man +that’ll kill you if you don’t give up all the money you’ve got +about you!” + +Joe was fully awake now, and realized the situation. He felt +thankful that he was not alone, and it instantly flashed upon him +that Watson had a revolver. But Watson was asleep. To obtain time +to form a plan, he parleyed a little. + +“You want my money?” he asked, appearing to be confused. + +“Yes--and at once! Refuse, and I will kill you!” + +I won’t pretend to deny that Joe’s heart beat a little quicker than +its wont. He was thinking busily. How could he attract Watson’s +attention? + +“It’s pretty hard, but I suppose I must,” he answered. + +“That’s the way to talk.” + +“Let me get up and I’ll get it.” + +Joe spoke so naturally that Rafferty suspected nothing. He +permitted our hero to rise, supposing that he was going for the +money he demanded. + +Joe knew exactly where Watson lay and went over to him. He knelt +down and drew out the revolver from beneath his head, at the +same time pushing him, in the hope of arousing him. The push was +effectual. Watson was a man whose experience at the mines had +taught him to rouse at once. He just heard Joe say: + +“Hush!” + +“What are you so long about?” demanded Rafferty suspiciously. + +“I’ve got a revolver,” said Joe unexpectedly; “and, if you don’t +leave the room, I’ll fire!” + +With an oath, Rafferty, who was no coward, sprang upon Joe, and it +would have gone hard with him but for Watson. The latter was now +broad awake. He seized Rafferty by the collar, and, dashing him +backward upon the floor, threw himself upon him. + +“Two can play at that game!” said he. “Light the candle, Joe.” + +“Help, pard!” called Rafferty. + +But Hogan, on whom he called, suspecting how matters stood, was in +full flight. + +The candle was lighted, and in the struggling ruffian Joe +recognized the man who, three months before, had robbed him of his +little all. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +NOT WHOLLY BLACK + + +“I know this man, Mr. Watson,” said Joe. + +“Who is he?” + +“He is the same man who robbed me of my money one night about three +months ago--the one I told you of.” + +For the first time, Rafferty recognized Joe. + +“There wasn’t enough to make a fuss about,” he said. “There was +only two dollars and a half.” + +“It was all I had.” + +“Let me up!” said Rafferty, renewing his struggles. + +“Joe, have you got a rope?” asked Watson. + +“Yes.” + +“Bring it here, then. I can’t hold this man all night.” + +“What are you going to do with me?” demanded Rafferty uneasily. + +“Tie you hand and foot till to-morrow morning and then deliver you +over to the authorities.” + +“No, you won’t!” + +He made a renewed struggle, but Watson was a man with muscles of +iron, and the attempt was unsuccessful. + +It was not without considerable difficulty, however, that the +midnight intruder was secured. When, at length, he was bound hand +and foot, Watson withdrew to a little distance. Joe and he looked +at Rafferty, and each felt that he had seldom seen a more brutal +face. + +“Well,” growled Rafferty, “I hope you are satisfied?” + +“Not yet,” returned Watson. “When you are delivered into the hands +of the authorities we shall be satisfied.” + +“Oh, for an hour’s freedom!” muttered Jack Rafferty, expressing his +thoughts aloud. + +“What use would you make of it?” asked Watson, in a tone of +curiosity. + +“I’d kill the man that led me into this trap!” + +Watson and Joe were surprised. + +“Was there such a man. Didn’t you come here alone?” + +“No; there was a man got me to come. Curse him, He told me I would +only find the boy here!” + +“What has become of him?” + +“He ran away, I reckon, instead of standing by me.” + +“Where was he?” + +“At the winder.” + +“Could it have been Hogan?” thought Joe. + +“I think I know the man,” said our hero. “I’ll describe the man I +mean and you can tell me if it was he.” + +He described Hogan as well as he could. + +“That’s the man,” said Rafferty. “I wouldn’t peach if he hadn’t +served me such a mean trick. What’s his name?” + +“His name is Hogan. He came over on the same steamer with me, +after robbing me of fifty dollars in New York. He has been at the +mines, but didn’t make out well. This very afternoon I gave him +supper--all he could eat--and charged him nothing for it. He repays +me by planning a robbery.” + +“He’s a mean skunk,” said Watson bluntly. + +“You’re right, stranger,” said Rafferty. “I’m a scamp myself, but +I’ll be blowed if I’d turn on a man that fed me when I was hungry.” + +The tones were gruff but the man was evidently sincere. + +“You’re better than you look,” said Watson, surprised to hear such +a sentiment from a man of such ruffianly appearance. + +Jack Rafferty laughed shortly. + +“I ain’t used to compliments,” he said, “and I expect I’m bad +enough, but I ain’t all bad. I won’t turn on my pal, unless he does +it first, and I ain’t mean enough to rob a man that’s done me a +good turn.” + +“No, you ain’t all bad,” said Watson. “It’s a pity you won’t make +up your mind to earn an honest living.” + +“Too late for that, I reckon. What do you think they’ll do with me?” + +In those days punishments were summary and severe. Watson knew it +and Joe had seen something of it. Our hero began to feel compassion +for the foiled burglar. He whispered in Watson’s ear. Watson +hesitated, but finally yielded. + +“Stranger,” said he, “the boy wants me to let you go.” + +“Does he?” inquired Rafferty, in surprise. + +“Yes. He is afraid it will go hard with you if we give you up.” + +“Likely it will,” muttered Rafferty, watching Watson’s face +eagerly, to see whether he favored Joe’s proposal. + +“Suppose we let you go--will you promise not to make another +attempt upon this place?” + +“What do you take me for? I’m not such a mean cuss as that.” + +“One thing more--you won’t kill this man that brought you here?” + +“If I knowed it wasn’t a trap he led me into. He told me there was +only the boy.” + +“He thought so. I don’t belong here. The boy let me sleep here out +of kindness. Hogan knew nothing of this. I didn’t come till after +he had left.” + +“That’s different,” said Rafferty; “but he shouldn’t have gone back +on me.” + +“He is a coward, probably.” + +“I guess you’re right,” said Rafferty contemptuously. + +“You promise, then?” + +“Not to kill him? Yes.” + +“Then we’ll let you go.” + +Watson unloosed the bonds that confined the prisoner. Rafferty +raised himself to his full height and stretched his limbs. + +“There--I feel better,” he said. “You tied the rope pretty tight.” + +“I found it necessary,” said Watson, laughing. “Now, Joe, if you +will open the door, this gentleman will pass out.” + +Rafferty turned to Joe, as he was about to leave the restaurant. + +“Boy,” said he, “I won’t forget this. I ain’t much of a friend to +boast of, but I’m your friend. You’ve saved me from prison, and +worse, it’s likely; and, if you need help any time, send for me. If +I had that money I took from you I’d pay it back.” + +“I don’t need it,” said Joe. “I’ve been lucky, and am doing well. I +hope you’ll make up your mind to turn over a new leaf. If you do, +and are ever hard up for a meal, come to me, and you shall have it +without money and without price.” + +“Thank you, boy,” said Rafferty. “I’ll remember it.” + +He strode out of the restaurant, and disappeared in the darkness. + +“Human nature’s a curious thing, Joe,” said Watson. “Who would have +expected to find any redeeming quality in such a man as that?” + +“I would sooner trust him than Hogan.” + +“So would I. Hogan is a mean scoundrel, who is not so much of a +ruffian as this man only because he is too much of a coward to be.” + +“I am glad we let him go,” said Joe. + +“I am not sure whether it was best, but I knew we should have to +be awake all night if we didn’t. He could have loosened the knots +after awhile. He won’t trouble you any more.” + +“I wish I felt as sure about Hogan,” said Joe. + +“Hogan is a coward. I advise you to keep a revolver constantly on +hand. He won’t dare to break in by himself.” + + * * * * * + +The next morning, after breakfast, Watson prepared to go out in +search of work. + +“I must begin at the bottom of the ladder once more,” he said to +Joe. “It’s my own fault, and I won’t complain. But what a fool I +have been! I might have gone home by the next steamer if I hadn’t +gambled away all my hard earnings.” + +“What sort of work shall you try to get?” + +“Anything--I have no right to be particular. Anything that will pay +my expenses and give me a chance to lay by something for my family +at home.” + +“Mr. Watson,” said Joe suddenly, “I’ve been thinking of something +that may suit you. Since I came to San Francisco I have never gone +outside. I would like to go to the mines.” + +“You wouldn’t make as much as you do here.” + +“Perhaps not; but I have laid by some money and I would like to see +something of the country. Will you carry on the restaurant for me +for three months, if I give you your board and half of the profits?” + +“Will I? I should think myself very lucky to get the chance.” + +“Then you shall have the chance.” + +“How do you know that I can be trusted?” asked Watson. + +“I haven’t known you long,” said Joe, “but I feel confidence in +your honesty.” + +“I don’t think you’ll repent your confidence. When do you want to +go?” + +“I’ll stay here a few days, till you get used to the business, then +I will start.” + +“I was lucky to fall in with you,” said Watson. “I didn’t want to +go back to the mines and tell the boys what a fool I have been. I +begin to think there’s a chance for me yet.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +MR. BICKFORD, OF PUMPKIN HOLLOW + + +It may be thought that Joe was rash in deciding to leave his +business in the hands of a man whose acquaintance he had made but +twelve hours previous. But in the early history of California +friendships ripened fast. There was more confidence between man +and man, and I am assured that even now, though the State is more +settled and as far advanced in civilization and refinement as any +of her sister States on the Atlantic coast, the people are bound +together by more friendly ties, and exhibit less of cold caution +than at the East. At all events, Joe never dreamed of distrusting +his new acquaintance. A common peril, successfully overcome, had +doubtless something to do in strengthening the bond between them. + +Joe went round to his friend Mr. Morgan and announced his intention. + +“I don’t think you will make money by your new plan, Joe,” said +Morgan. + +“I don’t expect to,” said Joe, “but I want to see the mines. If I +don’t succeed, I can come back to my business here.” + +“That is true. I should like very well to go, too.” + +“Why won’t you, Mr. Morgan?” + +“I cannot leave my business as readily as you can. Do you feel +confidence in this man whom you are leaving in charge?” + +“Yes, sir. He has been unlucky, but I am sure he is honest.” + +“He will have considerable money belonging to you by the time you +return--that is, if you stay any length of time.” + +“I want to speak to you about that, Mr. Morgan. I have directed him +to make a statement to you once a month, and put in your hands what +money comes to me--if it won’t trouble you too much.” + +“Not at all, Joe. I shall be glad to be of service to you.” + +“If you meet with any good investment for the money while I am +away, I should like to have you act for me as you would for +yourself.” + +“All right, Joe.” + +Joe learned from Watson that the latter had been mining on the +Yuba River, not far from the town of Marysville. He decided to go +there, although he might have found mines nearer the city. The next +question was, How should he get there, and should he go alone? + +About this time a long, lank Yankee walked into the restaurant, +one day, and, seating himself at a table, began to inspect the +bill of fare which Joe used to write up every morning. He looked +disappointed. + +“Don’t you find what you want?” inquired Joe. + +“No,” said the visitor. “I say, this is a queer country. I’ve been +hankerin’ arter a good dish of baked beans for a week, and ain’t +found any.” + +“We sometimes have them,” said Joe. “Come here at one o’clock, and +you shall be accommodated.” + +The stranger brightened up. + +“That’s the talk,” said he. “I’ll come.” + +“Have you just come out here?” asked Joe curiously. + +“A week ago.” + +“Are you a Southerner?” asked Joe demurely. + +“No, I guess not!” said the Yankee, with emphasis. + +“I was raised in Pumpkin Hollow, State of Maine. I was twenty-one +last first of April, but I ain’t no April fool, I tell you. Dad and +me carried on the farm till I began to hear tell of Californy. I’d +got about three hundred dollars saved up and I took it to come out +here.” + +“I suppose you’ve come out to make your fortune?” + +“Yes, sir-ee, that’s just what I come for.” + +“How have you succeeded so far?” + +“I’ve succeeded in spendin’ all my money, except fifty dollars. I +say, it costs a sight to eat and drink out here. I can’t afford to +take but one meal a day, and then I eat like all possessed.” + +“I should think you would, Mr.----” + +“Joshua Bickford--that’s my name when I’m to hum.” + +“Well, Mr. Bickford, what are your plans?” + +“I want to go out to the mines and dig gold. I guess I can dig as +well as anybody. I’ve had experience in diggin’ ever since I was +ten year old.” + +“Not digging gold, I suppose?” + +“Diggin’ potatoes, and sich.” + +“I’m going to the mines myself, Mr. Bickford. What do you say to +going along with me?” + +“I’m on hand. You know the way, don’t you?” + +“We can find it, I have no doubt. I have never been there, but my +friend Mr. Watson is an experienced miner.” + +“How much gold did you dig?” asked Joshua bluntly. + +“Two thousand dollars,” answered Watson, not thinking it necessary +to add that he had parted with the money since at the gaming-table. + +“Two thousand dollars?” exclaimed Joshua, duly impressed. “That’s a +heap of money!” + +“Yes; it’s a pretty good pile.” + +“I’d like to get that much. I know what I’d do.” + +“What would you do, Mr. Bickford?” + +“I’d go home and marry Sukey Smith, by gosh!” + +“Then I hope you’ll get the money, for Miss Smith’s sake.” + +“There’s a feller hangin’ round her,” said Joshua, “kinder +slick-lookin’, with his hair parted in the middle; he tends in the +dry-goods store; but, if I come home with two thousand dollars, +she’ll have me, I guess. Why, with two thousand dollars I can buy +the farm next to dad’s, with a house with five rooms into it, and +a good-sized barn. I guess Sukey wouldn’t say no to me then, but +would change her name to Bickford mighty sudden.” + +“I hope you will succeed in your plans, Mr. Bickford.” + +“Seems to me you’re kinder young to be out here,” said Bickford, +turning his attention to Joe. + +“Yes; I am not quite old enough to think of marrying.” + +“Have you got money enough to get out to the mines?” asked Joshua +cautiously. + +“I think I can raise enough,” said Joe, smiling. + +“My young friend is the owner of this restaurant,” said Watson. + +“You don’t say! I thought you hired him.” + +“No. On the contrary, I am in his employ. I have agreed to run the +restaurant for him while he is at the mines.” + +“You don’t say!” exclaimed Bickford, surveying our hero with +curiosity. “Have you made much money in this eating-house?” + +“I’ve done pretty well,” said Joe modestly. “I own the building and +the two adjoining lots.” + +“You don’t say! How old be you?” + +“Sixteen.” + +“You must be all-fired smart!” + +“I don’t know about that, Mr. Bickford. I’ve been lucky and fallen +in with good friends.” + +“Well, I guess Californy’s the place to make money. I ain’t made +any yet, but I mean to. There wasn’t no chance to get ahead in +Pumpkin Hollow. I was workin’ for eight dollars a month and board.” + +“It would be a great while before you could save up money to buy a +farm out of that, Mr. Bickford.” + +“That’s so.” + +“My experience was something like yours. Before I came out here I +was working on a farm.” + +“Sho!” + +“And I didn’t begin to get as much money as you. I was bound out +to a farmer for my board and clothes. The board was fair but the +clothes were few and poor.” + +“You don’t say!” + +“I hope you will be as lucky as I have been.” + +“How much are you worth now?” asked Joshua curiously. + +“From one to two thousand dollars, I expect.” + +“Sho! I never did! How long have you been out here?” + +“Three months.” + +“Je-rusalem! That’s better than stayin’ to hum.” + +“I think so.” + +By this time Mr. Bickford had completed his breakfast and in an +anxious tone he inquired: + +“What’s the damage?” + +“Oh, I won’t charge you anything, as you are going to be my +traveling companion,” said Joe. + +“You’re a gentleman, by gosh!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford, in +unrestrained delight. + +“Come in at one o’clock and you shall have some of your favorite +beans and nothing to pay. Can you start for the mines to-morrow?” + +“Yes--I’ve got nothin’ to prepare.” + +“Take your meals here till we go.” + +“Well, I’m in luck,” said Bickford. “Victuals cost awful out here +and I haven’t had as much as I wanted to eat since I got here.” + +“Consider yourself my guest,” said Joe, “and eat all you want to.” + +It may be remarked that Mr. Bickford availed himself of our young +hero’s invitation, and during the next twenty-four hours stowed +away enough provisions to last an ordinary man for half a week. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE MAN FROM PIKE COUNTY + + +Four days later Joe and his Yankee friend, mounted on mustangs, +were riding through a cañon a hundred miles from San Francisco. It +was late in the afternoon, and the tall trees shaded the path on +which they were traveling. The air was unusually chilly and after +the heat of midday they felt it. + +“I don’t feel like campin’ out to-night,” said Bickford. “It’s too +cool.” + +“I don’t think we shall find any hotels about here,” said Joe. + +“Don’t look like it. I’d like to be back in Pumpkin Hollow just for +to-night. How fur is it to the mines, do you calc’late?” + +“We are probably about half-way. We ought to reach the Yuba River +inside of a week.” + +Here Mr. Bickford’s mustang deliberately stopped and began to +survey the scenery calmly. + +“What do you mean, you pesky critter?” demanded Joshua. + +The mustang turned his head and glanced composedly at the burden he +was carrying. + +“G’lang!” said Joshua, and he brought down his whip on the flanks +of the animal. + +It is not in mustang nature to submit to such an outrage without +expressing proper resentment. The animal threw up its hind legs, +lowering its head at the same time, and Joshua Bickford, describing +a sudden somersault, found himself sitting down on the ground a few +feet in front of his horse, not seriously injured, but considerably +bewildered. + +“By gosh!” he ejaculated. + +“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to dismount, Mr. Bickford?” +asked Joe, his eyes twinkling with merriment. + +“Because I didn’t know it myself,” said Joshua, rising and rubbing +his jarred frame. + +The mustang did not offer to run away, but stood calmly surveying +him as if it had had nothing to do with his rider’s sudden +dismounting. + +“Darn the critter! He looks just as if nothing had happened,” said +Joshua. “He served me a mean trick.” + +“It was a gentle hint that he was tired,” said Joe. + +“Darn the beast! I don’t like his hints,” said Mr. Bickford. + +He prepared to mount the animal, but the latter rose on its hind +legs and very clearly intimated that the proposal was not agreeable. + +“What’s got into the critter?” said Joshua. + +“He wants to rest. Suppose we rest here for half-an-hour, while we +loosen check-rein and let the horses graze.” + +“Just as you say.” + +Joshua’s steed appeared pleased with the success of his little hint +and lost no time in availing himself of the freedom accorded him. + +“I wish I was safe at the mines,” said Joshua. “What would dad say +if he knowed where I was, right out here in the wilderness? It +looks as we might be the only human critters in the world. There +ain’t no house in sight, nor any signs of man’s ever bein’ here.” + +“So we can fancy how Adam felt when he was set down in Paradise,” +said Joe. + +“I guess he felt kinder lonely.” + +“Probably he did, till Eve came. He had Eve, and I have you for +company.” + +“I guess Eve wasn’t much like me,” said Joshua, with a grin. + +He was lying at full length on the greensward, looking awkward and +ungainly enough, but his countenance, homely as it was, looked +honest and trustworthy, and Joe preferred his company to that of +many possessed of more outward polish. He could not help smiling at +Mr. Bickford’s remark. + +“Probably Eve was not as robust as you are,” he replied, “I doubt +if she were as tall, either. But as to loneliness, it is better to +be lonely than to have some company.” + +“There ain’t no suspicious characters round, are there?” inquired +Joshua anxiously. + +“We are liable to meet them--men who have been unsuccessful at the +mines and who have become desperate in consequence, and others who +came out here to prey upon others. That’s what I hear.” + +“Do you think we shall meet any of the critters?” asked Joshua. + +“I hope not. They wouldn’t find it very profitable to attack us. We +haven’t much money.” + +“I haven’t,” said Joshua. “I couldn’t have got to the mines if you +hadn’t lent me a few dollars.” + +“You have your animal. You can sell him for something.” + +“If he agrees to carry me so far,” said Mr. Bickford, gazing +doubtfully at the mustang, who was evidently enjoying his evening +repast. + +“Oh, a hearty meal will make him good-natured. That is the way it +acts with boys and men, and animals are not so very different.” + +“I guess you’re right,” said Joshua. “When I wanted to get a favor +out of dad, I always used to wait till the old man had got his +belly full. That made him kinder good-natured.” + +“I see you understand human nature, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe. + +“I guess I do,” said Joshua complacently. “Great Jehoshaphat, who’s +that?” + +Joe raised his head and saw riding toward them a man who might have +sat for the photograph of a bandit without any alteration in his +countenance or apparel. He wore a red flannel shirt, pants of rough +cloth, a Mexican sombrero, had a bowie-knife stuck in his girdle, +and displayed a revolver rather ostentatiously. His hair, which he +wore long, was coarse and black, and he had a fierce mustache. + +“Is he a robber?” asked Joshua uneasily. + +“Even if he is,” said Joe, “we are two to one. I dare say he’s all +right, but keep your weapon ready.” + +Though Joe was but a boy and Bickford a full-grown man, from +the outset he had assumed the command of the party, and issued +directions which his older companion followed implicitly. The +explanation is that Joe had a mind of his own, and decided promptly +what was best to be done, while his long-limbed associate was +duller witted and undecided. + +Joe and Joshua maintained their sitting position till the stranger +was within a rod or two, when he hailed them. + +“How are ye, strangers?” he said. + +“Pretty comfortable,” said Joshua, reassured by his words. “How +fare you?” + +“You’re a Yank, ain’t you?” said the newcomer, disregarding +Joshua’s question. + +“I reckon so. Where might you hail from?” + +“I’m from Pike County, Missouri,” was the answer. “You’ve heard of +Pike, hain’t you?” + +“I don’t know as I have,” said Mr. Bickford. + +The stranger frowned. + +“You must have been born in the woods not to have heard of Pike +County,” he said. “The smartest fighters come from Pike. I kin whip +my weight in wildcats, am a match for a dozen Indians to onst, and +can tackle a lion without flinchin’.” + +“Sho!” said Joshua, considerably impressed. + +“Won’t you stop and rest with us?” said Joe politely. + +“I reckon I will,” said the Pike man, getting off his beast. “You +don’t happen to have a bottle of whisky with you, strangers?” + +“No,” said Joe. + +The newcomer looked disappointed. + +“I wish you had,” said he. “I feel as dry as a tinder-box. Where +might you be travelin’?” + +“We are bound for the mines on the Yuba River.” + +“That’s a long way off.” + +“Yes, it’s four or five days’ ride.” + +“I’ve been there, and I don’t like it. It’s too hard work for a +gentleman.” + +This was uttered in such a magnificent tone of disdain that Joe was +rather amused at the fellow. In his red shirt and coarse breeches, +and brown, not overclean skin, he certainly didn’t look much like a +gentleman in the conventional sense of that term. + +“It’s all well enough to be a gentleman if you’ve got money to fall +back on,” remarked Joshua sensibly. + +“Is that personal?” demanded the Pike County man, frowning and half +rising. + +“It’s personal to me,” said Joshua quietly. + +“I accept the apology,” said the newcomer, sinking back upon the +turf. + +“I hain’t apologized, as I’m aware,” said Joshua, who was no craven. + +“You’d better not rile me, stranger,” said the Pike man fiercely. +“You don’t know me, you don’t. I’m a rip-tail roarer, I am. I +always kill a man who insults me.” + +“So do we,” said Joe quietly. + +The Pike County man looked at Joe in some surprise. He had expected +to frighten the boy with his bluster, but it didn’t seem to produce +the effect intended. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +A DESPERADO + + +Mr. Bickford also seemed a little surprised at Joe’s coolness. +Though not a coward in the face of danger, he had been somewhat +impressed by the fierce aspect of the man from Pike County, and +really looked upon him as a reckless daredevil who was afraid of +nothing. Joe judged him more truly. He decided that a man who +boasted so loudly was a sham. If he had talked less, he would have +feared him more. + +After his last bloodthirsty declaration the man from Pike County +temporarily subsided. + +He drew out from his pocket a greasy pack of cards, and after +skilfully shuffling them inquired: + +“What do you say, strangers, to a little game to pass away the +time?” + +“I never played keards in my life,” said Joshua Bickford. + +“Where was you raised?” demanded the Pike man contemptuously. + +“Pumpkin Hollow, State o’ Maine,” said Joshua. “Dad’s an orthodox +deacon. He never let any of us play keards. I don’t know one from +t’other.” + +“I’ll learn you,” said the Pike man condescendingly. “Suppose we +have a game of poker?” + +“Ain’t that a gambling’ game?” inquired Joshua. + +“We always play for something,” said the Pike man. “It’s dern +foolishness playin’ for nothing. Shall we have a game?” + +He looked at Joe as he spoke. + +“I don’t care to play,” said our hero. “I don’t know much about +cards, and I don’t want to play for money.” + +“That’s dern foolishness,” said the stranger, whose object it was +to clean out his new friends, being an expert gambler. + +“Perhaps it is,” said Joe, “but I only speak for myself. Mr. +Bickford may feel differently.” + +“Will you take a hand, Bickford?” asked the Pike man, thinking +it possible that Joshua might have some money of which he could +relieve him. + +“You kin show me how to play if you want to,” said Joshua, “but I +won’t gamble any.” + +The Pike man put up his pack of cards in disgust. + +“Derned if I ever met sich fellers!” he said. “You’re Methodists, +ain’t you?” + +“We generally decline doing what we don’t want to do,” said Joe. + +“Look here, boy,” blustered the Pike man, “I reckon you don’t know +me. I’m from Pike County, Missouri, I am. I’m a rip-tail roarer, I +am. I kin whip my weight in wildcats.” + +“You told us that afore,” said Joshua placidly. + +“Derned if I don’t mean it, too!” exclaimed the Pike County man, +with a fierce frown. “Do you know how I served a man last week?” + +“No. Tell us, won’t you?” said Joshua. + +“We was ridin’ together over in Alameda County. We’d met +permiscuous, like we’ve met to-day. I was tellin’ him how four +b’ars attacked me once, and I fit ’em all single-handed, when he +laughed, and said he reckoned I’d been drinkin’ and saw double. If +he’d knowed me better, he wouldn’t have done it.” + +“What did you do?” asked Joshua, interested. + +Joe, who was satisfied that the fellow was romancing, did not +exhibit any interest. + +“What did I do?” echoed the Pike County man fiercely. “I told him +he didn’t know the man he insulted. I told him I was from Pike +County, Missouri, and that I was a rip-tail roarer.” + +“And could whip your weight in wildcats,” suggested Joe. + +The Pike man appeared irritated. + +“Don’t interrupt me, boy,” he said. “It ain’t healthy.” + +“After you’d made them remarks what did you do?” inquired Joshua. + +“I told him he’d insulted me and must fight. I always do that.” + +“Did he fight?” + +“He had to.” + +“How did it come out?” + +“I shot him through the heart,” said the man from Pike County +fiercely. “His bones are bleaching in the valley where he fell.” + +“Sho!” said Joshua. + +The Pike County man looked from one to the other to see what effect +had been produced by his blood-curdling narration. Joshua looked +rather perplexed, as if he didn’t quite know what to think, but Joe +seemed tranquil. + +“I think you said it happened last week,” said Joe. + +“If I said so, it is so,” said the Pike man, who in truth did not +remember what time he had mentioned. + +“I don’t question that. I was only wondering how his bones could +begin to bleach so soon after he was killed.” + +“Just so,” said Joshua, to whom this difficulty had not presented +itself before. + +“Do you doubt my word, stranger?” exclaimed the Pike man, putting +his hand to his side and fingering his knife. + +“Not at all,” said Joe. “But I wanted to understand how it was.” + +“I don’t give no explanations,” said the Pike man haughtily, “and I +allow no man to doubt my word.” + +“Look here, my friend,” said Joshua, “ain’t you rather +cantankerous?” + +“What’s that?” demanded the other suspiciously. + +“No offense,” said Joshua, “but you take a feller up so we don’t +know exactly how to talk to you.” + +“I take no insults,” said the Pike man. “Insults must be washed out +in blood.” + +“Soap-suds is better than blood for washin’ purposes,” said Joshua +practically. “Seems to me you’re spoilin’ for a fight all the time.” + +“I allow I am,” said the Pike man, who regarded this as a +compliment. “I was brought up on fightin’. When I was a boy I could +whip any boy in school.” + +“That’s why they called you a rip-tail roarer, I guess,” said +Joshua. + +“You’re right, stranger,” said the Pike man complacently. + +“What did you do when the teacher give you a lickin’?” asked Mr. +Bickford. + +“What did I do?” yelled the Pike County man, with a demoniac frown. + +“Exactly so.” + +“I shot him!” said the Pike man briefly. + +“Sho! How many teachers did you shoot when you was a boy?” + +“Only one. The rest heard of it and never dared touch me.” + +“So you could play hookey and cut up all you wanted to?” + +“You’re right, stranger.” + +“They didn’t manage that way at Pumpkin Hollow,” said Mr. Bickford. +“Boys ain’t quite so handy with shootin’-irons. When the master +flogged us we had to stand it.” + +“Were you afraid of him?” asked the Pike man disdainfully. + +“Well, I was,” Joshua admitted. “He was a big man with arms just +like flails, and the way he used to pound us was a caution.” + +“I’d have shot him in his tracks,” said the Pike man fiercely. + +“You’d have got a wallopin’ fust, I reckon,” said Joshua. + +“Do you mean to insult me?” demanded the Pike man. + +“Oh, lay down, and don’t be so cantankerous,” said Joshua. “You’re +allus thinkin’ of bein’ insulted.” + +“We may as well be going,” said Joe, who was thoroughly disgusted +with their new companion. + +“Just as you say, Joe,” said Joshua. “Here, you pesky critter, come +and let me mount you.” + +The mustang realized Joe’s prediction. After his hearty supper he +seemed to be quite tractable and permitted Mr. Bickford to mount +him without opposition. + +Joe also mounted his horse. + +“I’ll ride along with you if you’ve no objections,” said the Pike +man. “We kin camp together to-night.” + +So saying, he too mounted the sorry-looking steed which he had +recently dismounted. + +Joe was not hypocrite enough to say that he was welcome. He thought +it best to be candid. + +“If you are quite convinced that neither of us wishes to insult +you,” he said quietly, “you can join us. If you are bent on +quarreling, you had better ride on by yourself.” + +The Pike man frowned fiercely. + +“Boy,” he said, “I have shot a man for less than that.” + +“I carry a revolver,” said Joe quietly, “but I shan’t use it unless +it is necessary. If you are so easily offended, you’d better ride +on alone.” + +This the Pike man did not care to do. + +“You’re a strange boy,” he said, “but I reckon you’re on the +square. I’ll go along with you.” + +“I would rather you’d leave us,” thought Joe, but he merely said: +“Very well.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +TWO TRAGIC STORIES + + +They rode on for about an hour and a half. Joshua’s steed, placated +by his good supper, behaved very well. Their ride was still through +the cañon. Presently it became too dark for them to proceed. + +“Ain’t we gone about fur enough for to-night?” asked Joshua. + +“Perhaps we have,” answered Joe. + +“Here’s a good place to camp,” suggested the man from Pike County, +pointing to a small grove of trees to the right. + +“Very well; let us dismount,” said Joe. “I think we can pass the +night comfortably.” + +They dismounted, and tied their beasts together under one of the +trees. They then threw themselves down on a patch of greensward +near-by. + +“I’m gettin’ hungry,” said Joshua. “Ain’t you, Joe?” + +“Yes, Mr. Bickford. We may as well take supper.” + +Mr. Bickford produced a supper of cold, meat and bread, and placed +it between Joe and himself. + +“Won’t you share our supper?” said Joe to their companion. + +“Thank ye, stranger, I don’t mind if I do,” answered the Pike man, +with considerable alacrity. “My fodder give out this mornin’, and I +hain’t found any place to stock up.” + +He displayed such an appetite that Mr. Bickford regarded him with +anxiety. They had no more than sufficient for themselves, and the +prospect of such a boarder was truly alarming. + +“You have a healthy appetite, my friend,” he said. + +“I generally have,” said the Pike man. “You’d orter have some +whisky, strangers, to wash it down with.” + +“I’d rather have a good cup of coffee sweetened with ’lasses, sech +as marm makes to hum,” remarked Mr. Bickford. + +“Coffee is for children, whisky for strong men,” said the Roarer. + +“I prefer the coffee,” said Joe. + +“Are you temperance fellers?” inquired the Pike man contemptuously. + +“I am,” said Joe. + +“And I, too,” said Joshua. + +“Bah!” said the other disdainfully; “I’d as soon drink skim-milk. +Good whisky or brandy for me.” + +“I wish we was to your restaurant, Joe,” said Joshua. “I kinder +hanker after some good baked beans. Baked beans and brown bread are +scrumptious. Ever eat ’em, stranger?” + +“No,” said the Pike man; “none of your Yankee truck for me.” + +“I guess you don’t know what’s good,” said Mr. Bickford. “What’s +your favorite vittles?” + +“Bacon and hominy, hoe-cakes and whisky.” + +“Well,” said Joshua, “it depends on the way a feller is brung +up. I go for baked beans and brown bread, and punkin pie--that’s +goloptious. Ever eat punkin pie, stranger?” + +“Yes.” + +“Like it?” + +“I don’t lay much on it.” + +Supper was over and other subjects succeeded. The Pike County man +became social. + +“Strangers,” said he, “did you ever hear of the affair I had with +Jack Scott?” + +“No,” said Joshua. “Spin it off, will you?” + +“Jack and me used to be a heap together. We went huntin’ together, +camped out for weeks together, and was like two brothers. One day +we was ridin’ out, when a deer started up fifty rods ahead. We both +raised our guns and shot at him. There was only one bullet into +him, and I knowed that was mine.” + +“How did you know it?” inquired Joshua. + +“Don’t you get curious, stranger. I knowed it, and that was enough. +But Jack said it was his. ‘It’s my deer,’ he said, ‘for you missed +your shot.’ ‘Look here, Jack,’ said I, ‘you’re mistaken. You missed +it. Don’t you think I know my own bullet?’ ‘No, I don’t,’ said +he. ‘Jack,’ said I calmly, ‘don’t talk that way. It’s dangerous.’ +‘Do you think I’m afraid of you?’ he said, turning on me. ‘Jack,’ +said I, ‘don’t provoke me. I can whip my weight in wildcats.’ ‘You +can’t whip me,’ said he. That was too much for me to stand. I’m +the Rip-tail Roarer from Pike County, Missouri, and no man can +insult me and live. ‘Jack,’ said I, ‘we’ve been friends, but you’ve +insulted me, and it must be washed out in blood.’ Then I up with my +we’pon and shot him through the head.” + +“Sho!” said Joshua. + +“I was sorry to do it, for he was my friend,” said the Pike County +man, “but he disputed my word, and the man that does that may as +well make his will if he’s got any property to leave.” + +Here the speaker looked to see what effect was produced upon his +listeners. Joe seemed indifferent. He saw through the fellow, and +did not credit a word he said. Joshua had been more credulous at +first, but he, too, began to understand the man from Pike County. +The idea occurred to him to pay him back in his own coin. + +“Didn’t the relatives make any fuss about it?” he inquired. “Didn’t +they arrest you for murder?” + +“They didn’t dare to,” said the Pike man proudly. “They knew me. +They knew I could whip my weight in wildcats and wouldn’t let no +man insult me.” + +“Did you leave the corpse lyin’ out under the trees?” asked Joshua. + +“I rode over to Jack’s brother and told him what I had done, and +where he’d find the body. He went and buried it.” + +“What about the deer?” + +“What deer?” + +“The deer you killed and your friend claimed?” + +“Oh,” said the Pike man, with sudden recollection, “I told Jack’s +brother he might have it.” + +“Now, that was kinder handsome, considerin’ you’d killed your +friend on account of it.” + +“There ain’t nothin’ mean about me,” said the man from Pike County. + +“I see there ain’t,” said Mr. Bickford dryly. “It reminds me of +a little incident in my own life. I’ll tell you about it, if you +hain’t any objection.” + +“Go ahead. It’s your deal.” + +“You see, the summer I was eighteen, my cousin worked for dad +hayin’ time. He was a little older’n me, and he had a powerful +appetite, Bill had. If it wasn’t for that, he’d ’a’ been a nice +feller enough, but at the table he always wanted more than his +share of wittles. Now, that ain’t fair, no ways--think it is, +stranger?” + +“No! Go ahead with your story.” + +“One day we sat down to dinner. Marm had made some apple-dumplin’ +that day, and ’twas good, you bet. Well, I see Bill a-eyin’ the +dumplin’ as he shoveled in the meat and pertaters, and I knowed he +meant to get more’n his share. Now, I’m fond of dumplin’ as well as +Bill, and I didn’t like it. Well, we was both helped and went to +eatin’. When I was half through I got up to pour out some water. +When I cum back to the table Bill had put away his plate, which he +had cleaned off, and was eatin’ my dumplin’.” + +“What did you say?” inquired the gentleman from Pike, interested. + +“I said: ‘Bill, you’re my cousin, but you’ve gone too fur.’ He +laffed, and we went into the field together to mow. He was just +startin’ on his swath when I cum behind him and cut his head clean +off with my scythe.” + +Joe had difficulty in suppressing his laughter, but Mr. Bickford +looked perfectly serious. + +“Why, that was butchery!” exclaimed the Pike man, startled. “Cut +off his head with a scythe?” + +“I hated to, bein’ as he was my cousin,” said Joshua, “but I +couldn’t have him cum any of them tricks on me. I don’t see as it’s +any wuss than shootin’ a man.” + +“What did you do with his body?” asked Joe, commanding his voice. + +“Bein’ as ’twas warm weather, I thought I’d better bury him at +once.” + +“Were you arrested?” + +“Yes, and tried for murder, but my lawyer proved that I was crazy +when I did it, and so I got off.” + +“Do such things often happen at the North?” asked the Pike County +man. + +“Not so often as out here and down South, I guess,” said Joshua. +“It’s harder to get off. Sometimes a man gets hanged up North for +handlin’ his gun too careless.” + +“Did you ever kill anybody else?” asked the Pike man, eying Joshua +rather uneasily. + +“No,” said Mr. Bickford. “I shot one man in the leg and another in +the arm, but that warn’t anything serious.” + +It was hard to disbelieve Joshua, he spoke with such apparent +frankness and sincerity. The man from Pike County was evidently +puzzled, and told no more stories of his own prowess. Conversation, +died away, and presently all three were asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE EVENTS OF A NIGHT + + +The Pike County man was the first to fall asleep. Joe and Mr. +Bickford lay about a rod distant from him. When their new comrade’s +regular breathing, assured Joe that he was asleep, he said: + +“Mr. Bickford, what do you think of this man who has joined us?” + +“I think he’s the biggest liar I ever set eyes on,” said Joshua +bluntly. + +“Then you don’t believe his stories?” + +“No--do you?” + +“I believe them as much as that yarn of yours about your Cousin +Bill,” returned Joe, laughing. + +“I wanted to give him as good as he sent. I didn’t want him to do +all the lyin’.” + +“And you a deacon’s son!” exclaimed Joe, in comic expostulation. + +“I don’t know what the old man would have said if he’d heard me, or +Cousin Bill, either.” + +“Then one part is true--you have a Cousin Bill?” + +“That isn’t the only part that’s true; he did help me and dad +hayin’.” + +“But his head is still safe on his shoulders?” + +“I hope so.” + +“I don’t think we can find as much truth in the story of our friend +over yonder.” + +“Nor I. If there was a prize offered for tall lyin’ I guess he’d +stand a good chance to get it.” + +“Do you know, Joshua, fire-eater as he is, I suspect that he is a +coward.” + +“You do?” + +“Yes, and I have a mind to put him to the test.” + +“How will you do it?” + +“One day an old hunter came into my restaurant, and kept coming for +a week. He was once taken prisoner by the Indians, and remained in +their hands for three months. He taught me the Indian war-whoop, +and out of curiosity I practised it till I can do it pretty well.” + +“What’s your plan?” + +“To have you fire off your gun so as to wake him up. Then I will +give a loud war-whoop and see how it affects the gentleman from +Pike County.” + +“He may shoot us before he finds out the deception.” + +“It will be well first to remove his revolver to make all safe. +I wish you could give the war-whoop, too. It would make a louder +noise.” + +“How do you do it?” + +Joe explained. + +“I guess I can do it. You start it, and I’ll j’in in, just as I +used to do in singin’ at meetin’. I never could steer through a +tune straight by myself, but when the choir got to goin’, I helped +’em all I could.” + +“I guess you can do it. Now let us make ready.” + +The Pike County man’s revolver was removed while he was +unconsciously sleeping. Then Joshua and our hero ensconced +themselves behind trees, and the Yankee fired his gun. + +The Pike man started up, still half asleep and wholly bewildered, +when within a rod of him he heard the dreadful war-whoop. Then +another more discordant voice took up the fearful cry. Joshua did +very well considering that it was his first attempt. + +Then the man from Pike County sprang to his feet. If it had been +daylight, his face would have been seen to wear a pale and scared +expression. It did not appear to occur to him to make a stand +against the savage foes who he felt convinced were near at hand. +He stood not on the order of going, but went at once. He quickly +unloosed his beast, sprang upon his back, and galloped away without +apparently giving a thought to the companions with whom he had +camped out. + +When he was out of hearing Joe and Bickford shouted with laughter. + +“You see I was right,” said Joe. “The man’s a coward.” + +“He seemed in a hurry to get away,” said Joshua dryly. “He’s the +biggest humbug out.” + +“I thought so as soon as he began to brag so much.” + +“I believed his yarns at first,” admitted Joshua. “I thought he was +rather a dangerous fellow to travel with.” + +“He looked like a desperado, certainly,” said Joe, “but appearances +are deceitful. It’s all swagger and no real courage.” + +“Well, what shall we do now, Joe?” + +“Lie down again and go to sleep.” + +“The man’s gone off without his revolver.” + +“He’ll be back for it within a day or two. We shall be sure to fall +in with him again. I shan’t lose my sleep worrying about him.” + +The two threw themselves once more on the ground, and were soon +fast asleep. + + * * * * * + +Joe proved to be correct in his prediction concerning the +reappearance of their terrified companion. + +The next morning, when they were sitting at breakfast--that is, +sitting under a tree with their repast spread out on a paper +between them--the man from Pike County rode up. He looked haggard, +as well he might, not having ventured to sleep for fear of the +Indians, and his horse seemed weary and dragged out. + +“Where have you been?” asked Mr. Bickford innocently. + +“Chasin’ the Indians,” said the Rip-tail Roarer, swinging himself +from his saddle. + +“Sho! Be there any Indians about here?” + +“Didn’t you hear them last night?” inquired the man from Pike. + +“No.” + +“Nor you?” turning to Joe. + +“I heard nothing of any Indians,” replied Joe truthfully. + +“Then all I can say is, strangers, that you sleep uncommon sound.” + +“Nothing wakes me up,” said Bickford. “What about them Indians? Did +you railly see any?” + +“I rather think I did,” said the man from Pike. “It couldn’t have +been much after midnight when I was aroused by their war-whoop. +Starting up, I saw twenty of the red devils riding through the +cañon.” + +“Were you afraid?” + +“Afraid!” exclaimed the man from Pike contemptuously. “The Rip-tail +Roarer knows not fear. I can whip my weight in wildcats----” + +“Yes, I know you can,” interrupted Joshua. “You told us so +yesterday.” + +The man from Pike seemed rather annoyed at the interruption, but as +Mr. Bickford appeared to credit his statement he had no excuse for +quarreling. + +He proceeded. + +“Instantly I sprung to the back of my steed and gave them chase.” + +“Did they see you?” + +“They did.” + +“Why didn’t they turn upon you? You said there were twenty of them.” + +“Why?” repeated the Pike man boastfully. “They were afraid. They +recognized me as the Rip-tail Roarer. They knew that I had sent +more than fifty Indians to the happy hunting-grounds, and alone as +I was they fled.” + +“Sho!” + +“Did you kill any of them?” asked Joe. + +“When I was some distance on my way I found I had left my revolver +behind. Did you find it, stranger?” + +“There it is,” said Joshua, who had replaced it on the ground close +to where the Pike man had slept. + +He took it with satisfaction and replaced it in his girdle. + +“Then you didn’t kill any?” + +“No, but I drove them away. They won’t trouble you any more.” + +“That’s a comfort,” said Joshua. + +“Now, strangers, if you’ve got any breakfast to spare, I think I +could eat some.” + +“Set up, old man,” said Mr. Bickford, with his mouth full. + +The man from Pike did full justice to the meal. Then he asked his +two companions, as a favor, not to start for two hours, during +which he lay down and rested. + +The three kept together that day, but did not accomplish as much +distance as usual, chiefly because of the condition of their +companion’s horse. + +At night they camped out again. In the morning an unpleasant +surprise awaited them. Their companion had disappeared, taking with +him Joshua’s horse and leaving instead his own sorry nag. That was +not all. He had carried off their bag of provisions, and morning +found them destitute of food, with a hearty appetite and many miles +away, as they judged, from any settlement. + +“The mean skunk!” said Joshua. “He’s cleaned us out. What shall we +do?” + +“I don’t know,” said Joe seriously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +JOHN CHINAMAN + + +The two friends felt themselves to be in a serious strait. The +exchange of horses was annoying, but it would only lengthen their +journey a little. The loss of their whole stock of provisions could +not so readily be made up. + +“I feel holler,” said Joshua. “I never could do much before +breakfast. I wish I’d eat more supper. I would have done it, only +I was afraid, by the way that skunk pitched into ’em, we wouldn’t +have enough to last.” + +“You only saved them for him, it seems,” said Joe. “He has +certainly made a poor return for our kindness.” + +“If I could only wring his neck, I wouldn’t feel quite so hungry,” +said Joshua. + +“Or cut his head off with a scythe,” suggested Joe, smiling faintly. + +“Danged if I wouldn’t do it,” said Mr. Bickford, hunger making him +bloodthirsty. + +“We may overtake him, Mr. Bickford.” + +“You may, Joe, but I can’t. He’s left me his horse, which is clean +tuckered out, and never was any great shakes to begin with. I don’t +believe I can get ten miles out of him from now till sunset.” + +“We must keep together, no matter how slow we go. It won’t do for +us to be parted.” + +“We shall starve together likely enough,” said Joshua mournfully. + +“I’ve heard that the French eat horse-flesh. If it comes to the +worst, we can kill your horse and try a horse-steak.” + +“It’s all he’s fit for, and he ain’t fit for that. We’ll move +on for a couple of hours and see if somethin’ won’t turn up. I +tell you, Joe, I’d give all the money I’ve got for some of marm’s +johnny-cakes. It makes me feel hungrier whenever I think of ’em.” + +“I sympathize with you, Joshua,” said Joe. “We may as well be +movin’ on, as you suggest. We may come to some cabin, or party of +travelers.” + +So they mounted their beasts and started. Joe went ahead, for +his animal was much better than the sorry nag which Mr. Bickford +bestrode. The latter walked along with an air of dejection, as if +life were a burden to him. + +“If I had this critter at home, Joe, I’ll tell you what I’d do with +him,” said Mr. Bickford, after a pause. + +“Well, what would you do with him?” + +“I’d sell him to a sexton. He’d be a first-class animal to go to +funerals. No danger of his runnin’ away with the hearse.” + +“You are not so hungry but you can joke, Joshua.” + +“It’s no joke,” returned Mr. Bickford. “If we don’t raise a supply +of provisions soon, I shall have to attend my own funeral. My mind +keeps running on them johnny-cakes.” + +They rode on rather soberly, for the exercise and the fresh morning +air increased their appetites, which were keen when they started. + +Mr. Bickford no longer felt like joking, and Joe at every step +looked anxiously around him, in the hope of espying relief. + +On a sudden, Mr. Bickford rose in his stirrups and exclaimed in a +tone of excitement: + +“I see a cabin!” + +“Where?” + +“Yonder,” said the Yankee, pointing to a one-story shanty, perhaps +a quarter of a mile away. + +“Is it inhabited, I wonder?” + +“I don’t know. Let us go and see.” + +The two spurred their horses, and at length reached the rude +building which had inspired them with hope. The door was open, but +no one was visible. + +Joshua was off his horse in a twinkling and peered in. + +“Hooray!” he shouted in rejoicing accents. “Breakfast’s ready.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“I mean that I’ve found something to eat.” + +On a rude table was an earthen platter full of boiled rice and a +stale loaf beside it. + +“Pitch in, Joe,” said Joshua. “I’m as hungry as a wolf.” + +“This food belongs to somebody. I suppose we have no right to it.” + +“Right be hanged. A starving man has a right to eat whatever he can +find.” + +“Suppose it belongs to a fire-eater, or a man from Pike County?” + +“We’ll eat first and fight afterward.” + +Joe did not feel like arguing the matter. There was an advocate +within him which forcibly emphasized Joshua’s arguments, and he +joined in the banquet. + +“This bread is dry as a chip,” said Mr. Bickford. “But no matter. I +never thought dry bread would taste so good. I always thought rice +was mean vittles, but it goes to the right place just now.” + +“I wonder if any one will have to go hungry on our account?” said +Joe. + +“I hope not, but I can’t help it,” returned Mr. Bickford. +“Necessity’s the fust law of nature, Joe. I feel twice as strong as +I did twenty minutes ago.” + +“There’s nothing like a full stomach, Joshua. I wonder to whom we +are indebted for this repast?” + +Joe was not long in having his query answered. An exclamation, as +of one startled, called the attention of the two friends to the +doorway, where, with a terrified face, stood a Chinaman, his broad +face indicating alarm. + +“It’s a heathen Chinee, by gosh!” exclaimed Joshua. + +Even at that time Chinese immigrants had begun to arrive in San +Francisco, and the sight was not wholly new either to Joshua or Joe. + +“Good morning, John,” said our young hero pleasantly. + +“Good morning, heathen,” said Mr. Bickford. “We thought we’d come +round and make you a mornin’ call. Is your family well?” + +The Chinaman was reassured by the friendly tone of his visitors, +and ventured to step in. He at once saw that the food which he had +prepared for himself had disappeared. + +“Melican man eat John’s dinner,” he remarked in a tone of +disappointment. + +“So we have, John,” said Mr. Bickford. “The fact is, we were +hungry--hadn’t had any breakfast.” + +“Suppose Melican man eat--he pay,” said the Chinaman. + +“That’s all right,” said Joe; “we are willing to pay. How much do +you want?” + +The Chinaman named his price, which was not unreasonable, and it +was cheerfully paid. + +“Have you got some more bread and rice, John?” asked Mr. Bickford. +“We’d like to buy some and take it along.” + +They succeeded in purchasing a small supply--enough with economy to +last a day or two. This was felt as a decided relief. In two days +they might fall in with another party of miners or come across a +settlement. + +They ascertained on inquiry that the Chinaman and another of his +nationality had come out like themselves to search for gold. They +had a claim at a short distance from which they had obtained a +small supply of gold. The cabin they had found in its present +condition. It had been erected and deserted the previous year by a +party of white miners, who were not so easily satisfied as the two +Chinamen. + +“Well,” said Joshua, after they had started on their way, “that’s +the first time I ever dined at a Chinee hotel.” + +“We were lucky in coming across it,” said Joe. + +“The poor fellow looked frightened when he saw us gobblin’ up his +provisions,” said Mr. Bickford, laughing at the recollection. + +“But we left him pretty well satisfied. We didn’t treat him as the +gentleman from Pike treated us.” + +“No--I wouldn’t be so mean as that darned skunk. It makes me mad +whenever I look at this consumptive hoss he’s left behind.” + +“You didn’t make much out of that horse trade, Mr. Bickford.” + +“I didn’t, but I’ll get even with him some time if we ever meet +again.” + +“Do you know where he was bound?” + +“No--he didn’t say.” + +“I dare say it’ll all come right in the end. At any rate, we shan’t +starve for the next forty-eight hours.” + +So in better spirits the two companions kept on their way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +ON THE YUBA RIVER + + +On the following day Joe and his comrade fell in with a party of +men who, like themselves, were on their way to the Yuba River. They +were permitted to join them, and made an arrangement for a share of +the provisions. This removed all anxiety and insured their reaching +their destination without further adventure. + +The banks of the Yuba presented a busy and picturesque appearance. +On the banks was a line of men roughly clad, earnestly engaged in +scooping out gravel and pouring it into a rough cradle, called a +rocker. This was rocked from side to side until the particles of +gold, if there were any, settled at the bottom and were picked out +and gathered into bags. At the present time there are improved +methods of separating gold from the earth, but the rocker is still +employed by Chinese miners. + +In the background were tents and rude cabins, and there was the +unfailing accessory of a large mining-camp, the gambling tent, +where the banker, like a wily spider, lay in wait to appropriate +the hard-earned dust of the successful miner. + +Joe and his friend took their station a few rods from the river and +gazed at the scene before them. + +“Well, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe, “the time has come when we are to +try our luck.” + +“Yes,” said Joshua. “Looks curious, doesn’t it? If I didn’t know, +I’d think them chaps fools, stoopin’ over there and siftin’ mud. It +’minds me of when I was a boy and used to make dirt pies.” + +“Suppose we take a day and look round a little. Then we can find +out about how things are done, and work to better advantage.” + +“Just as you say, Joe, I must go to work soon, for I hain’t nary +red.” + +“I’ll stand by you, Mr. Bickford.” + +“You’re a fust-rate feller, Joe. You seem to know just what to do.” + +“It isn’t so long since I was a greenhorn and allowed myself to be +taken in by Hogan.” + +“You’ve cut your eye-teeth since then.” + +“I have had some experience of the world, but I may get taken in +again.” + +Joe and his friend found the miners social and very ready to give +them information. + +“How much do I make a day?” said one in answer to a question from +Joshua. “Well, it varies. Sometimes I make ten dollars, and from +that all the way up to twenty-five. Once I found a piece worth +fifty dollars. I was in luck then.” + +“I should say you were,” said Mr. Bickford. “The idea of findin’ +fifty dollars in the river. It looks kind of strange, don’t it, +Joe?” + +“Are any larger pieces ever found here?” asked Joe. + +“Sometimes.” + +“I have seen larger nuggets on exhibition in San Francisco, worth +several hundred dollars. Are any such to be found here?” + +“Generally they come from the dry diggings. We don’t often find +such specimens in the river washings. But these are more reliable.” + +“Can a man save money here?” + +“If he’ll be careful of what he gets. But much of our dust goes +there.” + +He pointed, as he spoke, to a small cabin, used as a store and +gambling den at one and the same time. There in the evening the +miners collected, and by faro, poker, or monte managed to lose all +that they had washed out during the day. + +“That’s the curse of our mining settlement,” said their informant. +“But for the temptations which the gaming-house offers, many +whom you see working here would now be on their way home with a +comfortable provision for their families. I never go there, but +then I am in the minority.” + +“What did you used to do when you was to hum?” inquired Joshua, +who was by nature curious and had no scruples about gratifying his +curiosity. + +“I used to keep school winters. In the spring and summer I assisted +my father on his farm down in Maine.” + +“You don’t say you’re from Maine? Why, I’m from Maine myself,” +remarked Joshua. + +“Indeed! Whereabouts in Maine did you live?” + +“Pumpkin Hollow.” + +“I kept school in Pumpkin Hollow one winter.” + +“You don’t say so? What is your name?” inquired Joshua earnestly. + +“John Kellogg.” + +“I thought so!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford, excited. + +“Why, I used to go to school to you, Mr. Kellogg.” + +“It is nine years ago, and you must have changed so much that I +cannot call you to mind.” + +“Don’t you remember a tall, slab-sided youngster of thirteen, that +used to stick pins into your chair for you to set on?” + +Kellogg smiled. + +“Surely you are not Joshua Bickford?” he said. + +“Yes, I am. I am that same identical chap.” + +“I am glad to see you, Mr. Bickford,” said his old school-teacher, +grasping Joshua’s hand cordially. + +“It seems kinder queer for you to call me Mr. Bickford.” + +“I wasn’t so ceremonious in the old times,” said Kellogg. + +“No, I guess not. You’d say, ‘Come here, Joshua,’ and you’d jerk +me out of my seat by the collar. ‘Did you stick that pin in my +chair?’ That’s the way you used to talk. And then you’d give me an +all-fired lickin’.” + +Overcome by the mirthful recollections, Joshua burst into an +explosive fit of laughter, in which presently he was joined by Joe +and his old teacher. + +“I hope you’ve forgiven me for those whippings, Mr. Bickford.” + +“They were jest what I needed, Mr. Kellogg. I was a lazy young +rascal, as full of mischief as a nut is of meat. You tanned my hide +well.” + +“You don’t seem to be any the worse for it now.” + +“I guess not. I’m pretty tough. I say, Mr. Kellogg,” continued +Joshua, with a grin, “you’d find it a harder job to give me a +lickin’ now than you did then.” + +“I wouldn’t undertake it now. I am afraid you could handle me.” + +“It seems cur’us, don’t it, Joe?” said Joshua. “When Mr. Kellogg +used to haul me round the schoolroom, it didn’t seem as if I could +ever be a match for him.” + +“We change with the passing years,” said Kellogg, in a moralizing +tone, which recalled his former vocation. “Now you are a man, and +we meet here on the other side of the continent, on the banks of +the Yuba River. I hope we are destined to be successful.” + +“I hope so, too,” said Joshua, “for I’m reg’larly cleaned out.” + +“If I can help you any in the way of information, I shall be glad +to do so.” + +Joe and Bickford took him at his word and made many inquiries, +eliciting important information. + +The next day they took their places farther down the river and +commenced work. + +Their inexperience at first put them at a disadvantage. They were +awkward and unskilful, as might have been expected. Still, at the +end of the first day each had made about five dollars. + +“That’s something,” said Joe. + +“If I could have made five dollars in one day in Pumpkin Hollow,” +said Mr. Bickford, “I would have felt like a rich man. Here it +costs a feller so much to live that he don’t think much of it.” + +“We shall improve as we go along. Wait till to-morrow night.” + +The second day brought each about twelve dollars, and Joshua felt +elated. + +“I’m gettin’ the hang of it,” said he. “As soon as I’ve paid up +what I owe you, I’ll begin to lay by somethin’.” + +“I don’t want you to pay me till you are worth five hundred +dollars, Mr. Bickford. The sum is small, and I don’t need it.” + +“Thank you, Joe. You’re a good friend. I’ll stick by you if you +ever want help.” + +In the evening the camp presented a lively appearance. + +When it was chilly, logs would be brought from the woods, and a +bright fire would be lighted, around which the miners would sit +and talk of home and their personal adventures and experiences. +One evening Mr. Bickford and Joe were returning from a walk, when, +as they approached the camp-fire, they heard a voice that sounded +familiar, and caught these words: + +“I’m from Pike County, Missouri, gentlemen. They call me the +Rip-tail Roarer. I can whip my weight in wildcats.” + +“By gosh!” exclaimed Joshua, “if it ain’t that skunk from Pike. I +mean to tackle him.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +JUDGE LYNCH PRONOUNCES SENTENCE + + +The gentleman from Pike was sitting on a log, surrounded by miners, +to whom he was relating his marvelous exploits. The number of +Indians, grizzly bears, and enemies generally, which, according +to his account, he had overcome and made way with, was simply +enormous. Hercules was nothing to him. It can hardly be said that +his listeners credited his stories. They had seen enough of life +to be pretty good judges of human nature, and regarded them as +romances which served to while away the time. + +“It seems to me, my friend,” said Kellogg, who, it will be +remembered, had been a schoolmaster, “that you are a modern +Hercules.” + +“Who’s he?” demanded the Pike man suspiciously, for he had never +heard of the gentleman referred to. + +“He was a great hero of antiquity,” exclaimed Kellogg, “who did +many wonderful feats.” + +“That’s all right, then,” said the Pike man. “If you’re friendly, +then I’m friendly. But if any man insults me he’ll find he’s +tackled the wrong man. I can whip my weight in wildcats----” + +Here he was subjected to an interruption. + +Mr. Bickford could no longer suppress his indignation when at a +little distance he saw his mustang, which this treacherous braggart +had robbed him of, quietly feeding. + +“Look here, old Rip-tail, or whatever you call yourself, I’ve got +an account to settle with you.” + +The Pike man started as he heard Mr. Bickford’s voice, which, being +of a peculiar nasal character, he instantly recognized. He felt +that the meeting was an awkward one, and he would willingly have +avoided it. He decided to bluff Joshua off if possible, and, as the +best way of doing it, to continue his game of brag. + +“Who dares to speak to me thus?” he demanded with a heavy frown, +looking in the opposite direction. “Who insults the Rip-tail +Roarer?” + +“Look this way if you want to see him,” said Joshua. “Put on your +specs if your eyes ain’t good.” + +The man from Pike could no longer evade looking at his late +comrade. He pretended not to know him. + +“Stranger,” said he, with one hand on the handle of his knife, “are +you tired of life?” + +“I am neither tired of life nor afraid of you,” said Joshua +manfully. + +“You don’t know me, or----” + +“Yes, I do. You’re the man that says he can whip his weight in +wildcats. I don’t believe you dare to face your weight in tame +cats.” + +“Sdeath!” roared the bully. “Do you want to die on the spot?” + +“Not particularly, old Rip-tail. Don’t talk sech nonsense. I’ll +trouble you to tell me why you stole my horse on the way out here.” + +“Let me get at him,” said the Pike man in a terrible voice, but not +offering to get up from the log. + +“Nobody henders your gettin’ at me,” said Mr. Bickford composedly. +“But that ain’t answerin’ my question.” + +“If I didn’t respect them two gentlemen too much, I’d shoot you +where you stand,” said the Pike man. + +“I’ve got a shootin’-iron myself, old Rip-tail, and I’m goin’ to +use it if necessary.” + +“What have you to say in answer to this man’s charge?” asked one of +the miners, a large man who was looked upon as the leader of the +company. “He charges you with taking his horse.” + +“He lies!” said the man from Pike. + +“Be keerful, old Rip-tail,” said Mr. Bickford in a warning tone. “I +don’t take sass any more than you do.” + +“I didn’t steal your horse.” + +“No, you didn’t exactly steal it, but you took it without leave and +left your own bag of bones in his place. But that wasn’t so bad as +stealin’ all our provisions and leavin’ us without a bite, out in +the wilderness. That’s what I call tarnation mean.” + +“What have you to say to these charges?” asked the mining leader +gravely. + +“Say? I say that man is mistaken. I never saw him before in my +life.” + +“Well, that’s cheeky,” said Joshua, aghast at the man’s impudence. +“Why, I know you as well as if we’d been to school together. You +are the Rip-tail Roarer. You are from Pike County, Missouri, you +are. You can whip your weight in wildcats. That’s he, gentlemen. I +leave it to you.” + +In giving the description, Joshua imitated the boastful accents of +his old comrade with such success that the assembled miners laughed +and applauded. + +“That’s he! You’ve got him!” they cried. + +“Just hear that, old Rip-tail,” said Mr. Bickford. “You see these +gentlemen here believe me and they don’t believe you.” + +“There’s a man in this here country that looks like me,” said the +Pike man, with a lame excuse. “You’ve met him, likely.” + +“That won’t go down, old Rip-tail. There ain’t but one man can whip +his weight in wildcats and tell the all-firedest yarns out. That’s +you, and there ain’t no gettin’ round it.” + +“This is a plot, gentlemen,” said the man from Pike, glancing +uneasily at the faces around him, in which he read disbelief of his +statements. “My word is as good as his.” + +“Maybe it is,” said Mr. Bickford. “I’ll call another witness. Joe, +jest tell our friends here what you know about the gentleman from +Pike. If I’m lyin’, say so, and I’ll subside and never say another +word about it.” + +“All that my friend Bickford says is perfectly true,” said Joe +modestly. “This man partook of our hospitality and then repaid us +by going off early one morning when we were still asleep, carrying +off all our provisions and exchanging his own worn-out horse for my +friend’s mustang, which was a much better animal.” + +The man from Pike had not at first seen Joe. His countenance fell +when he saw how Mr. Bickford’s case was strengthened, and for the +moment he could not think of a word to say. + +“You are sure this is the man, Joe?” asked, the leader of the +miners. + +“Yes, I will swear to it. He is not a man whom it is easy to +mistake.” + +“I believe you. Gentlemen,” turning to the miners who were sitting +or standing about him, “do you believe this stranger or our two +friends?” + +The reply was emphatic, and the man from Pike saw that he was +condemned. + +“Gentlemen,” he said, rising, “you are mistaken, and I am the +victim of a plot. It isn’t pleasant to stay where I am suspected, +and I’ll bid you good evening.” + +“Not so fast!” said the leader, putting his hand heavily on his +shoulder. “You deserve to be punished, and you shall be. Friends, +what shall we do with him?” + +“Kill him! String him up!” shouted some. + +The Rip-tail Roarer’s swarthy face grew pale as he heard these +ominous words. He knew something of the wild, stern justice of +those days. He knew that more than one for an offense like his had +expiated his crime with his life. + +“It seems to me,” said the leader, “that the man he injured should +fix the penalty. Say you so?” + +“Aye, aye!” shouted the miners. + +“Will you two,” turning to Joe and Bickford, “decide what shall be +done with this man? Shall we string him up?” + +The Pike man’s nerve gave way. + +He flung himself on his knees before Joshua and cried: + +“Mercy! mercy! Don’t let them hang me!” + +Joshua was not hard-hearted. He consulted with Joe and then said: + +“I don’t want the critter’s life. If there was any wildcats round, +I’d like to see him tackle his weight in ’em, as he says he can. As +there isn’t, let him be tied on the old nag he put off on me, with +his head to the horse’s tail, supplied with one day’s provisions, +and then turned loose!” + +This sentence was received with loud applause and laughter. + +The horse was still in camp and was at once brought out. The man +from Pike was securely tied on as directed, and then the poor beast +was belabored with whips till he started off at the top of his +speed, which his old owner, on account of his reversed position, +was unable to regulate. He was followed by shouts and jeers from +the miners, who enjoyed this act of retributive justice. + +“Mr. Bickford, you are avenged,” said Joe. + +“So I am, Joe. I’m glad I’ve got my hoss back; but I can’t help +pityin’ poor old Rip-tail, after all. I don’t believe he ever +killed a wildcat in his life.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +TAKING ACCOUNT OF STOCK + + +Three months passed. They were not eventful. The days were spent +in steady and monotonous work; the nights were passed around the +camp-fire, telling and hearing stories and talking of home. Most of +their companions gambled and drank, but Mr. Bickford and Joe kept +clear of these pitfalls. + +“Come, man, drink with me,” more than once one of his comrades said +to Joshua. + +“No, thank you,” said Joshua. + +“Why not? Ain’t I good enough?” asked the other, half offended. + +“You mean I’m puttin’ on airs ’cause I won’t drink with you? No, +sir-ree. There isn’t a man I’d drink with sooner than with you.” + +“Come up, then, old fellow. What’ll you take?” + +“I’ll take a sandwich, if you insist on it.” + +“That’s vittles. What’ll you drink?” + +“Nothing but water. That’s strong enough for me.” + +“Danged if I don’t believe you’re a minister in disguise.” + +“I guess I’d make a cur’us preacher,” said Joshua, with a comical +twist of his features. “You wouldn’t want to hear me preach more’n +once.” + +In this way our friend Mr. Bickford managed to evade the hospitable +invitations of his comrades and still retain their good-will--not +always an easy thing to achieve in those times. + +Joe was equally positive in declining to drink, but it was easier +for him to escape. Even the most confirmed drinkers felt it to be +wrong to coax a boy to drink against his will. + +There was still another--Kellogg--who steadfastly adhered to cold +water, or tea and coffee, as a beverage. These three were dubbed +by their companions the “Cold-Water Brigade,” and accepted the +designation good-naturedly. + +“Joshua,” said Joe, some three months after their arrival, “have +you taken account of stock lately?” + +“No,” said Joshua, “but I’ll do it now.” + +After a brief time he announced the result. + +“I’ve got about five hundred dollars, or thereabouts,” he said. + +“You have done a little better than I have.” + +“How much have you?” + +“About four hundred and fifty.” + +“I owe you twenty-five dollars, Joe. That’ll make us even.” + +Joshua was about to transfer twenty-five dollars to Joe, when the +latter stayed his hand. + +“Don’t be in a hurry, Mr. Bickford,” he said. “Wait till we get to +the city.” + +“Do you know, Joe,” said Joshua, in a tone of satisfaction, “I am +richer than I was when I sot out from home?” + +“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Bickford. You have worked hard, and +deserve your luck.” + +“I had only three hundred dollars then; now I’ve got four hundred +and seventy-five, takin’ out what I owe you.” + +“You needn’t take it out at all.” + +“You’ve done enough for me, Joe. I don’t want you to give me that +debt.” + +“Remember, Joshua, I have got a business in the city paying me +money all the time. I expect my share of the profits will be more +than I have earned out here.” + +“That’s good. I wish I’d got a business like you. You’d be all +right even if you only get enough to pay expenses here.” + +“That’s so.” + +“I am getting rather tired of this place, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe, +after a little pause. + +“You don’t think of going back to the city?” asked Joshua +apprehensively. + +“Not directly, but I think I should like to see a little more of +California. These are not the only diggings.” + +“Where do you want to go?” + +“I haven’t considered yet. The main thing is, will you go with me?” + +“We won’t part company, Joe.” + +“Good! Then I’ll inquire, and see what I can find out about other +places. This pays fairly, but there is little chance of getting +nuggets of any size hereabouts.” + +“I’d just like to find one worth two thousand dollars. I’d start +for home mighty quick, and give Sukey Smith a chance to become Mrs. +Bickford.” + +“Success to you!” said Joe, laughing. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +A STARTLING TABLEAU + + +Joe finally decided on some mines a hundred miles distant in +a southwesterly direction. They were reported to be rich and +promising. + +“At any rate,” said he, “even if they are no better than here, we +shall get a little variety and change of scene.” + +“That’ll be good for our appetite.” + +“I don’t think, Mr. Bickford, that either of us need be concerned +about his appetite. Mine is remarkably healthy.” + +“Nothing was ever the matter with mine,” said Joshua, “as long as +the provisions held out.” + +They made some few preparations of a necessary character. Their +clothing was in rags, and they got a new outfit at the mining +store. Each also provided himself with a rifle. The expense of +these made some inroads upon their stock of money, but by the time +they were ready to start they had eight hundred dollars between +them, besides their outfit, and this they considered satisfactory. + +Kellogg at first proposed to go with them, but finally he changed +his mind. + +“I am in a hurry to get home,” he said, “and these mines are a sure +thing. If I were as young as you, I would take the risk. As it is, +I had better not. I’ve got a wife and child at home, and I want to +go back to them as soon as I can.” + +“You are right,” said Joe. + +“I’ve got a girl at home,” said Joshua, “but I guess she’ll wait +for me.” + +“Suppose she don’t,” suggested Joe. + +“I shan’t break my heart,” said Mr. Bickford. “There’s more than +one girl in the world.” + +“I see you are a philosopher, Mr. Bickford,” said his old +schoolmaster. + +“I don’t know about that, but I don’t intend to make a fool of +myself for any gal. I shall say, ’Sukey, here I am; I’ve got a +little money, and I’m your’n till death if you say so. If you don’t +want me, I won’t commit susan-cide.” + +“That’s a capital joke, Joshua,” said Joe. “Her name is Susan, +isn’t it?” + +“Have I made a joke? Waal, I didn’t go to do it.” + +“It is unconscious wit, Mr. Bickford,” said Kellogg. + +“Pooty good joke, ain’t it?” said Joshua complacently. “Susan-cide, +and her name is Susan. Ho! ho! I never thought on’t.” + +And Joshua roared in appreciation of the joke which he had +unwittingly perpetrated, for it must be explained that he thought +susan-cide the proper form of the word expressing a voluntary +severing of the vital cord. + +Years afterward, when Joshua found himself the center of a social +throng, he was wont to say, “Ever heard that joke I made about +Susan?” and then he would cite it amid the plaudits of his friends. + +Mr. Bickford and Joe had not disposed of their horses. They had +suffered them to forage in the neighborhood of the river, thinking +it possible that the time would come when they would require them. + +One fine morning they set out from the camp near the banks of the +Yuba and set their faces in a southwesterly direction. They had +made themselves popular among their comrades, and the miners gave +them a hearty cheer as they started. + +“Good luck, Joe! Good luck, old man!” they exclaimed heartily. + +“The same to you, boy!” + +So with mutual good feeling they parted company. + +“We ain’t leavin’ like our friend from Pike County,” said Mr. +Bickford. “I often think of the poor critter trottin’ off with face +to the rear.” + +“I hope we shan’t meet him or any of his kind,” said Joe. + +“So do I. He’d better go and live among the wildcats.” + +“He is some like them. He lives upon others.” + +It would only be wearisome to give a detailed account of the +journey of the two friends. One incident will suffice. + +On the fourth day Joe suddenly exclaimed in excitement: + +“Look, Joshua!” + +“By gosh!” + +The exclamation was a natural one. At the distance of forty rods +a man was visible, his hat off, his face wild with fear, and in +dangerous proximity a grizzly bear of the largest size doggedly +pursuing him. + +“It’s Hogan!” exclaimed Joe in surprise. “We must save him.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +A GRIZZLY ON THE WAR-PATH + + +It may surprise some of my young friends to learn that the grizzly +bear is to be found in California. Though as the State has +increased in population mostly all have been killed off, even now +among the mountains they may be found, and occasionally visit the +lower slopes and attack men and beasts. + +Hogan had had the ill-luck to encounter one of these animals. + +When he first saw the grizzly there was a considerable space +between them. If he had concealed himself, he might have escaped +the notice of the beast, but when he commenced running the grizzly +became aware of his presence and started in pursuit. + +Hogan was rather dilapidated in appearance. Trusting to luck +instead of labor, he had had a hard time, as he might have +expected. His flannel shirt was ragged and his nether garments +showed the ravages of time. In the race his hat had dropped off +and his rough, unkempt hair was erect with fright. He was running +rapidly, but was already showing signs of exhaustion. The bear was +getting over the ground with clumsy speed, appearing to take it +easily, but overhauling his intended victim slowly, but surely. + +Joe and Bickford were standing on one side, and had not yet +attracted the attention of either party in this unequal race. + +“Poor chap!” said Joshua. “He looks most tuckered out. Shall I +shoot?” + +“Wait till the bear gets a little nearer. We can’t afford to miss. +He will turn on us.” + +“I’m in a hurry to roll the beast over,” said Joshua. “It’s a cruel +sight to see a grizzly hunting a man.” + +At this moment Hogan turned his head with the terror-stricken look +of a man who felt that he was lost. + +The bear was little more than a hundred feet behind him and was +gaining steadily. He was already terribly fatigued--his breathing +was reduced to a hoarse pant. He was overcome by the terror of the +situation, and his remaining strength gave way. With a shrill cry +he sank down upon the ground, and, shutting his eyes, awaited the +attack. + +The bear increased his speed. + +“Now let him have it!” said Joe in a sharp, quick whisper. + +Mr. Bickford fired, striking the grizzly in the face. + +Bruin stood still and roared angrily. He wagged his large head from +one side to the other, seeking by whom this attack was made. + +He espied the two friends, and, abandoning his pursuit of Hogan, +rolled angrily toward them. + +“Give it to him quick, Joe!” exclaimed Bickford. “He’s making for +us.” + +Joe held his rifle with steady hand and took deliberate aim. It was +well he did, for had he failed both he and Bickford would have been +in great peril. + +His faithful rifle did good service. + +The bear tumbled to the earth with sudden awkwardness. The bullet +had reached a vital part and the grizzly was destined to do no more +mischief. + +“Is he dead, or only feigning?” asked Joe prudently. + +“He’s a gone coon,” said Joshua. “Let us go up and look at him.” + +They went up and stood over the huge beast. He was not quite dead. +He opened his glazing eyes, made a convulsive movement with his +paws as if he would like to attack his foes, and then his head fell +back and he moved no more. + +“He’s gone, sure enough,” said Bickford. “Good-by, old grizzly. You +meant well, but circumstances interfered with your good intentions.” + +“Now let us look up Hogan,” said Joe. + +The man had sunk to the ground utterly exhausted, and in his +weakness and terror had fainted. + +Joe got some water and threw it in his face. + +He opened his eyes and drew a deep breath. A sudden recollection +blanched his face anew, and he cried: + +“Don’t let him get at me!” + +“You’re safe, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe. “The bear is dead.” + +“Dead! Is he really dead?” + +“If you don’t believe it, get up and look at him,” said Bickford. + +“I can’t get up--I’m so weak.” + +“Let me help you, then. There--do you see the critter?” + +Hogan shuddered as he caught sight of the huge beast only +twenty-five feet distant from him. + +“Was he as near as that?” he gasped. + +“He almost had you,” said Bickford. “If it hadn’t been for Joe and +me, he’d have been munchin’ you at this identical minute. Things +have changed a little, and in place of the bear eatin’ you you +shall help eat the bear.” + +By this time Hogan, realizing that he was safe, began to recover +his strength. As he did so he became angry with the beast that had +driven him such a hard race for life. He ran up to the grizzly and +kicked him. + +“Take that!” he exclaimed with an oath. “I wish you wasn’t dead, so +that I could stick my knife into you.” + +“If he wasn’t dead you’d keep your distance,” said Joshua dryly. +“It don’t require much courage to tackle him now.” + +Hogan felt this to be a reflection upon his courage. + +“I guess you’d have run, too, if he’d been after you,” he said. + +“I guess I should. Bears are all very well in their place, but I’d +rather not mingle with ’em socially. They’re very affectionate and +fond of hugging, but if I’m going to be hugged I wouldn’t choose a +bear.” + +“You seem to think I was a coward for runnin’ from the bear.” + +“No, I don’t. How do I know you was runnin’ from the bear? Maybe +you was only takin’ a little exercise to get up an appetite for +dinner.” + +“I am faint and weak,” said Hogan. “I haven’t had anything to eat +for twelve hours.” + +“You shall have some food,” said Joe. “Joshua, where are the +provisions? We may as well sit down and lunch.” + +“Jest as you say, Joe. I most generally have an appetite.” + +There was a mountain spring within a stone’s throw. Joshua took +a tin pail and brought some of the sparkling beverage, which he +offered first to Hogan. + +Hogan drank greedily. His throat was parched and dry, and he needed +it. + +He drew a deep breath of relief. + +“I feel better,” said he. “I was in search of a spring when that +cursed beast spied me and gave me chase.” + +They sat down under the shade of a large tree and lunched. + +“What sort of luck have you had since you tried to break into my +restaurant, Mr. Hogan?” asked Joe. + +Hogan changed color. The question was an awkward one. + +“Who told you I tried to enter your restaurant?” he asked. + +“The man you brought there.” + +“That wasn’t creditable of you, Hogan,” said Joshua, with his mouth +full. “After my friend Joe had given you a supper and promised you +breakfast, it was unkind to try to rob him. Don’t you think so +yourself?” + +“I couldn’t help it,” said Hogan, who had rapidly decided on his +defense. + +“Couldn’t help it?” said Joe in a tone of inquiry. “That’s rather a +strange statement.” + +“It’s true,” said Hogan. “The man forced me to do it.” + +“How was that?” + +“He saw me comin’ out of the restaurant a little while before, and +when he met me, after trying to rob me and finding that it didn’t +pay, he asked me if I was a friend of yours. I told him I was. Then +he began to ask if you slept there at night and if anybody was with +you. I didn’t want to answer, but he held a pistol at my head and +forced me to. Then he made me go with him. I offered to get in, +thinking I could whisper in your ear and warn you, but he wouldn’t +let me. He stationed me at the window and got in himself. You know +what followed. As soon as I saw you were too strong for him I ran +away, fearing that he might try to implicate me in the attempt at +robbery.” + +Hogan recited this story very glibly and in a very plausible manner. + +“Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “if I didn’t know you so thoroughly, I might +be disposed to put confidence in your statements. As it is, I +regret to say I don’t believe you.” + +“Hogan,” said Joshua, “I think you’re one of the fust romancers of +the age. If I ever start a story-paper I’ll engage you to write for +me.” + +“I am sorry you do me so much injustice, gentlemen,” said +Hogan, with an air of suffering innocence. “I’m the victim of +circumstances.” + +“I expect you’re a second George Washington. You never told a lie, +did you?” + +“Some time you will know me better,” said Hogan. + +“I hope not,” said Joe. “I know you better now than I want to.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE NEW DIGGINGS + + +When lunch-was over, Joe said: + +“Good day, Mr. Hogan. Look out for the grizzlies, and may you have +better luck in future.” + +“Yes, Hogan, good-by,” said Joshua. “We make over to you all our +interest in the bear. He meant to eat you. You can revenge yourself +by eatin’ him.” + +“Are you going to leave me, gentlemen?” asked Hogan in alarm. + +“You don’t expect us to stay and take care of you, do you?” + +“Let me go with you,” pleaded Hogan. “I am afraid to be left alone +in this country. I may meet another grizzly, and lose my life.” + +“That would be a great loss to the world,” said Mr. Bickford, with +unconcealed sarcasm. + +“It would be a great loss to me,” said Hogan. + +“Maybe that’s the best way to put it,” observed Bickford. “It would +have been money in my friend Joe’s pocket if you had never been +born.” + +“May I go with you?” pleaded Hogan, this time addressing himself to +Joe. + +“Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “you know very well why your company is not +acceptable to us.” + +“You shall have no occasion to complain,” said Hogan earnestly. + +“Do you want us to adopt you, Hogan?” asked Joshua. + +“Let me stay with you till we reach the nearest diggings. Then I +won’t trouble you any more.” + +Joe turned to Bickford. + +“If you don’t object,” he said, “I think I’ll let him come.” + +“Let the critter come,” said Bickford. “He’d be sure to choke any +grizzly that tackled him. For the sake of the bear, let him come.” + +Mr. Hogan was too glad to join the party, on any conditions, to +resent the tone which Mr. Bickford employed in addressing him. He +obtained his suit, and the party of three kept on their way. + +As they advanced the country became rougher and more hilly. Here +and there they saw evidences of “prospecting” by former visitors. +They came upon deserted claims and the sites of former camps. But +in these places the indications of gold had not been sufficiently +favorable to warrant continued work, and the miners had gone +elsewhere. + +At last, however, they came to a dozen men who were busily at +work in a gulch. Two rude huts near-by evidently served as their +temporary homes. + +“Well, boys, how do you find it?” inquired Bickford, riding up. + +“Pretty fair,” said one of the party. + +“Have you got room for three more?” + +“Yes--come along. You can select claims alongside and go to work if +you want to.” + +“What do you say, Joe?” + +“I am in favor of it.” + +“We are going to put up here, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford. “You can +do as you’ve a mind to. Much as we value your interestin’ society, +we hope you won’t put yourself out to stay on our account.” + +“I’ll stay,” said Hogan. + +Joe and Joshua surveyed the ground and staked out their claims, +writing out the usual notice and posting it on a neighboring tree. +They had not all the requisite tools, but these they were able to +purchase at one of the cabins. + +“What shall I do?” asked Hogan. “I’m dead broke. I can’t work +without tools, and I can’t buy any.” + +“Do you want to work for me?” asked Joshua. + +“What’ll you give?” + +“That’ll depend on how you work. If you work stiddy, I’ll give you +a quarter of what we both make. I’ll supply you with tools, but +they’ll belong to me.” + +“Suppose we don’t make anything,” suggested Hogan. + +“You shall have a quarter of that. You see, I want to make it for +your interest to succeed.” + +“Then I shall starve.” + +The bargain was modified so that Hogan was assured of enough to +eat, and was promised, besides, a small sum of money daily, but was +not to participate in the gains. + +“If we find a nugget, it won’t do you any good. Do you understand, +Hogan?” + +“Yes, I understand.” + +He shrugged his shoulders, having very little faith in any +prospective nuggets. + +“Then we understand each other. That’s all I want.” + +On the second day Joe and Mr. Bickford consolidated their claims +and became partners, agreeing to divide whatever they found. Hogan +was to work for them jointly. + +They did not find their hired man altogether satisfactory. He was +lazy and shiftless by nature, and work was irksome to him. + +“If you don’t work stiddy, Hogan,” said Joshua, “you can’t expect +to eat stiddy, and your appetite is pretty reg’lar, I notice.” + +Under this stimulus Hogan managed to work better than he had done +since he came out to California, or indeed for years preceding his +departure. Bickford and Joe had both been accustomed to farm work +and easily lapsed into their old habits. + +They found they had made a change for the better in leaving the +banks of the Yuba. The claims they were now working paid them +better. + +“Twenty-five dollars to-day,” said Joshua, a week after their +arrival. “That pays better than hoeing pertaters, Joe.” + +“You are right, Mr. Bickford. You are ten dollars ahead of me. I am +afraid you will lose on our partnership.” + +“I’ll risk it, Joe.” + +Hogan was the only member of the party who was not satisfied. + +“Can’t you take me into partnership?” he asked. + +“We can, but I don’t think we will, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford. + +“It wouldn’t pay. If you don’t like workin’ for us, you can take a +claim of your own.” + +“I have no tools.” + +“Why don’t you save your money and buy some, instead of gamblin’ it +away as you are doin’?” + +“A man must have amusement,” grumbled Hogan. “Besides, I may have +luck and win.” + +“Better keep clear of gamblin’, Hogan.” + +“Mr. Hogan, if you want to start a claim of your own, I’ll give you +what tools you need,” said Joe. + +Upon reflection Hogan decided to accept this offer. + +“But of course you will have to find your own vittles now,” said +Joshua. + +“I’ll do it,” said Hogan. + +The same day he ceased to work for the firm of Bickford & Mason, +for Joe insisted on giving Mr. Bickford the precedence as the +senior party, and started on his own account. + +The result was that he worked considerably less than before. Being +his own master, he decided not to overwork himself, and in fact +worked only enough to make his board. He was continually grumbling +over his bad luck, although Joshua told him plainly that it wasn’t +luck, but industry, he lacked. + +“If you’d work like we do,” said Bickford, “you wouldn’t need to +complain. Your claim is just as good as ours, as far as we can +tell.” + +“Then let us go in as partners,” said Hogan. + +“Not much. You ain’t the kind of partner I want.” + +“I was always unfortunate,” said Hogan. + +“You were always lazy, I reckon. You were born tired, weren’t you?” + +“My health ain’t good,” said Hogan. “I can’t work like you two.” + +“You’ve got a healthy appetite,” said Mr. Bickford. “There ain’t no +trouble there that I can see.” + +Mr. Hogan had an easier time than before, but he hadn’t money to +gamble with unless he deprived himself of his customary supply of +food, and this he was reluctant to do. + +“Lend me half-an-ounce of gold-dust, won’t you?” he asked of Joe +one evening. + +“What do you want it for--to gamble with?” + +“Yes,” said Hogan. “I dreamed last night that I broke the bank. All +I want is money enough to start me.” + +“I don’t approve of gambling, and can’t help you.” + +Hogan next tried Mr. Bickford, but with like result. + +“I ain’t quite such a fool, Hogan,” said the plain-spoken Joshua. + +About this time a stroke of good luck fell to Joe. About three +o’clock one afternoon he unearthed a nugget which, at a rough +estimate, might be worth five hundred dollars. + +Instantly all was excitement in the mining-camp, not alone for +what he had obtained, but for the promise of richer deposits. +Experienced miners decided that he had struck upon what is +popularly called a “pocket,” and some of these are immensely +remunerative. + +“Shake hands, Joe,” said Bickford. “You’re in luck.” + +“So are you, Mr. Bickford. We are partners, you know.” + +In less than an hour the two partners received an offer of eight +thousand dollars for their united claim, and the offer was accepted. + +Joe was the hero of the camp. All were rejoiced at his good fortune +except one. That one was Hogan, who from a little distance, jealous +and gloomy, surveyed the excited crowd. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +HOGAN’S DISCONTENT + + +“Why don’t luck come to me?” muttered Hogan to himself. “That green +country boy has made a fortune, while I, an experienced man of the +world, have to live from hand to mouth. It’s an outrage!” + +The parties to whom Joe and his partner sold their claim were +responsible men who had been fortunate in mining and had a +bank-account in San Francisco. + +“We’ll give you an order on our banker,” they proposed. + +“That will suit me better than money down,” said Joe. “I shall +start for San Francisco to-morrow, having other business there that +I need to look after.” + +“I’ll go too, Joe,” said Joshua. “With my share of the +purchase-money and the nugget, I’m worth, nigh on to five thousand +dollars. What will dad say?” + +“And what will Susan Smith say?” queried Joe. + +Joshua grinned. + +“I guess she’ll say she’s ready to change her name to Bickford,” +said he. + +“You must send me some of the cake, Mr. Bickford.” + +“Just wait, Joe. The thing ain’t got to that yet. I tell you, Joe, +I shall be somebody when I get home to Pumpkin Hollow with that +pile of money. The boys’ll begin to look up to me then. I can’t +hardly believe it’s all true. Maybe I’m dreamin’ it. Jest pinch my +arm, will you?” + +Joe complied with his request. + +“That’ll do, Joe. You’ve got some strength in your fingers. I guess +it’s true, after all.” + +Joe observed with some surprise that Hogan did not come near them. +The rest, without exception, had congratulated them on their +extraordinary good luck. + +“Seems to me Hogan looks rather down in the mouth,” said Joe to +Bickford. + +“He’s mad ’cause he didn’t find the nugget. That’s what’s the +matter with him. I say, Hogan, you look as if your dinner didn’t +agree with you.” + +“My luck don’t agree with me.” + +“You don’t seem to look at things right. Wasn’t you lucky the other +day to get away from the bear?” + +“I was unlucky enough to fall in with him.” + +“Wasn’t you lucky in meetin’ my friend Joe in New York, and raisin’ +money enough out of him to pay your passage out to Californy?” + +“I should be better off in New York. I am dead broke.” + +“You’d be dead broke in New York. Such fellers as you always is +dead broke.” + +“Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Bickford?” demanded Hogan irritably. + +“Oh, don’t rare up, Hogan. It won’t do no good. You’d ought to have +more respect for me, considerin’ I was your boss once.” + +“I’d give something for that boy’s luck.” + +“Joe’s luck? Well, things have gone pretty well with him; but that +don’t explain all his success--he’s willin’ to work.” + +“So am I.” + +“Then go to work on your claim. There’s no knowin’ but there’s a +bigger nugget inside of it. If you stand round with your hands in +your pockets, you’ll never find it.” + +“It’s the poorest claim in the gulch,” said Hogan discontentedly. + +“It pays the poorest because you don’t work half the time.” + +Hogan apparently didn’t like Mr. Bickford’s plainness of speech. He +walked away moodily, with his hands in his pockets. He could not +help contrasting his penniless position with the enviable position +of the two friends, and the devil, who is always in wait for such +moments, thrust an evil suggestion into his mind. + +It was this: + +He asked himself why could he not steal the nugget which Joe had +found? + +“He can spare it, for he has sold the claim for a fortune,” Hogan +reasoned. “It isn’t fair that he should have everything and I +should have nothing. He ought to have made me his partner, anyway. +He would if he hadn’t been so selfish. I have just as much right to +a share in it as this infernal Yankee. I’d like to choke him.” + +This argument was a very weak one, but a man easily persuades +himself of what he wants to do. + +“I’ll try for it,” Hogan decided, “this very night.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE NUGGET IS STOLEN + + +At this time Joe and Joshua were occupying a tent which they had +purchased on favorable terms of a fellow miner. + +They retired in good season, for they wished to start early on +their journey on the following morning. + +“I don’t know as I can go to sleep,” said Joshua. “I can’t help +thinkin’ of how rich I am, and what dad and all the folks will say.” + +“Do you mean to go home at once, Mr. Bickford?” + +“Jest as soon as I can get ready. I’ll tell you what I am goin’ to +do, Joe. I’m goin’ to buy a tip-top suit when I get to Boston, and +a gold watch and chain, and a breast-pin about as big as a saucer. +When I sail into Pumpkin Holler in that rig folks’ll look at me, +you bet. There’s old Squire Pennyroyal, he’ll be disappointed for +one.” + +“Why will he be disappointed?” + +“Because he told dad I was a fool to come out here. He said I’d be +back in rags before a year was out. Now, the old man thinks a good +deal of his opinion, and he won’t like it to find how badly he’s +mistaken.” + +“Then he would prefer to see you come home in rags?” + +“You bet he would.” + +“How about Susan? Ain’t you afraid she has married the store clerk?” + +Joshua looked grave for a moment. + +“I won’t say but she has,” said he; “but if she has gone and +forgotten about me jest because my back is turned, she ain’t the +gal I take her for, and I won’t fret my gizzard about her.” + +“She will feel worse than you when she finds you have come back +with money.” + +“That’s so.” + +“And you will easily find some one else,” suggested Joe. + +“There’s Sophrony Thompson thinks a sight of me,” said Mr. +Bickford. “She’s awful jealous of Susan. If Susan goes back on me, +I’ll call round and see Sophrony.” + +Joe laughed. + +“I won’t feel anxious about you, Joshua,” he said, “since I find +you have two girls to choose between.” + +“Not much danger of breakin’ my heart. It’s pretty tough.” + +There was a brief silence. + +Then Joshua said: + +“What are your plans, Joe? Shall you remain in San Francisco?” + +“I’ve been thinking, Mr. Bickford, that I would like to go home +on a visit. If I find that I have left my business in good hands +in the city, I shall feel strongly tempted to go home on the same +steamer with you.” + +“That would be hunky,” said Bickford, really delighted. “We’d have +a jolly time.” + +“I think we would. But, Mr. Bickford, I have no girls to welcome me +home, as you have.” + +“You ain’t old enough yet, Joe. You’re a good-lookin’ feller, and +when the time comes I guess you can find somebody.” + +“I don’t begin to trouble myself about such things yet,” said Joe, +laughing. “I am only sixteen.” + +“You’ve been through considerable, Joe, for a boy of sixteen. I +wish you’d come up to Pumpkin Holler and make me a visit when +you’re to home.” + +“Perhaps I can arrange to be present at your wedding, Mr. +Bickford--that is, if Susan doesn’t make you wait too long.” + +While this conversation was going on the dark figure of a man was +prowling near the tent. + +“Why don’t the fools stop talking and go to sleep,” muttered Hogan. +“I don’t want to wait here all night.” His wish was gratified. + +The two friends ceased talking and lay quite still. Soon Joe’s +deep, regular breathing and Bickford’s snoring convinced the +listener that the time had come to carry out his plans. + +With stealthy step he approached the tent, and stooping over gently +removed the nugget from under Joshua’s head. There was a bag of +gold-dust which escaped his notice. The nugget was all he thought +of. + +With beating heart and hasty step the thief melted into the +darkness, and the two friends slept on unconscious of their loss. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HOGAN’S FATE + + +The sun was up an hour before Joe and Bickford awoke. When Joe +opened his eyes he saw that it was later than the hour he intended +to rise. He shook his companion. + +“Is it mornin’?” asked Bickford drowsily. + +“I should say it was. Everybody is up and eating breakfast. We must +prepare to set out on our journey.” + +“Then it is time--we are rich,” said Joshua, with sudden +remembrance. “Do you know, Joe, I hain’t got used to the thought +yet. I had actually forgotten it.” + +“The sight of the nugget will bring it to mind.” + +“That’s so.” + +Bickford felt for the nugget, without a suspicion that the search +would be in vain. + +Of course he did not find it. + +“Joe, you are trying to play a trick on me,” he said. “You’ve taken +the nugget.” + +“What!” exclaimed Joe, starting. “Is it missing?” + +“Yes, and you know all about it. Where have you put it, Joe?” + +“On my honor, Joshua, I haven’t touched it,” said Joe seriously. +“Where did you place it?” + +“Under my head--the last thing before I lay down.” + +“Are you positive of it?” + +“Certain, sure.” + +“Then,” said Joe, a little pale, “it must have been taken during +the night.” + +“Who would take it?” + +“Let us find Hogan,” said Joe, with instinctive suspicion. “Who has +seen Hogan?” + +Hogan’s claim was in sight, but he was not at work. Neither was he +taking breakfast. + +“I’ll bet the skunk has grabbed the nugget and cleared out,” +exclaimed Bickford, in a tone of conviction. + +“Did you hear or see anything of him during the night?” + +“No--I slept too sound.” + +“Is anything else taken?” asked Joe. “The bag of dust----” + +“Is safe. It’s only the nugget that’s gone.” + +The loss was quickly noised about the camp. Such an incident was +of common interest. Miners lived so much in common--their property +was necessarily left so unguarded--that theft was something more +than misdemeanor or light offense. Stern was the justice which +overtook the thief in those days. It was necessary, perhaps, for it +was a primitive state of society, and the code which in established +communities was a safeguard did not extend its protection here. + +Suspicion fell upon Hogan at once. No one of the miners remembered +to have seen him since rising. + +“Did any one see him last night?” asked Joe. + +Kellogg answered. + +“I saw him near your tent,” he said. “I did not think anything +of it. Perhaps if I had been less sleepy I should have been more +likely to suspect that his design was not a good one.” + +“About what hour was this?” + +“It must have been between ten and eleven o’clock.” + +“We did not go to sleep at once. Mr. Bickford and I were talking +over our plans.” + +“I wish I’d been awake when the skunk come round,” said Bickford. +“I’d have grabbed him so he’d thought an old grizzly’d got hold of +him.” + +“Did you notice anything in his manner that led you to think he +intended robbery?” asked Kellogg. + +“He was complainin’ of his luck. He thought Joe and I got more than +our share, and I’m willin’ to allow we have; but if we’d been as +lazy and shif’less as Hogan we wouldn’t have got down to the nugget +at all.” + +An informal council was held, and it was decided to pursue Hogan. +As it was uncertain in which direction he had fled, it was resolved +to send out four parties of two men each to hunt him. Joe and +Kellogg went together, Joshua and another miner departed in a +different direction, and two other pairs started out. + +“I guess we’ll fix him,” said Mr. Bickford. “If he can dodge us +all, he’s smarter than I think he is.” + +Meanwhile Hogan, with the precious nugget in his possession, +hurried forward with feverish haste. The night was dark and the +country was broken. From time to time he stumbled over some +obstacle, the root of a tree or something similar, and this made +his journey more arduous. + +“I wish it was light,” he muttered. + +Then he revoked his wish. In the darkness and obscurity lay his +hopes of escape. + +“I’d give half this nugget if I was safe in San Francisco,” he said +to himself. + +He stumbled on, occasionally forced by his fatigue to sit down and +rest. + +“I hope I’m going in the right direction, but I don’t know,” he +said to himself. + +He had been traveling with occasional rests for four hours when +fatigue overcame him. He lay down to take a slight nap, but when he +awoke the sun was up. + +“Good Heaven!” he exclaimed in alarm. “I must have slept for some +hours. I will eat something to give me strength, and then I must +hurry on.” + +He had taken the precaution to take some provisions with him, and +he began to eat them as he hurried along. + +“They have just discovered their loss,” thought Hogan. “Will they +follow me, I wonder? I must be a good twelve miles away, and this +is a fair start. They will turn back before they have come as far +as this. Besides, they won’t know in what direction I have come.” + +Hogan was mistaken in supposing himself to be twelve miles away. +In reality, he was not eight. During the night he had traveled at +disadvantage, and taken a round-about way without being aware of +it. He was mistaken also in supposing that the pursuit would be +easily abandoned. Mining communities could not afford to condone +theft, nor were they disposed to facilitate the escape of the +thief. More than once the murderer had escaped, while the thief was +pursued relentlessly. All this made Hogan’s position a perilous +one. If he had been long enough in the country to understand the +feeling of the people, he would not have ventured to steal the +nugget. + +About eleven o’clock Hogan sat down to rest. He reclined on the +greensward near the edge of a precipitous descent. He did not dream +that danger was so close till he heard his name called and two men +came running toward him. Hogan, starting to his feet in dismay, +recognized Crane and Peabody, two of his late comrades. + +“What do you want?” he faltered, as they came within hearing. + +“The nugget,” said Crane sternly. + +Hogan would have denied its possession if he could, but there it +was at his side. + +“There it is,” he said. + +“What induced you to steal it?” demanded Crane. + +“I was dead broke. Luck was against me. I couldn’t help it.” + +“It was a bad day’s work for you,” said Peabody. “Didn’t you know +the penalty attached to theft in the mining-camps?” + +“No,” faltered Hogan, alarmed at the stern looks of his captors. +“What is it?” + +“Death by hanging,” was the terrible reply. + +Hogan’s face blanched, and he sank on his knees before them. + +“Don’t let me be hung!” he entreated. “You’ve got the nugget back. +I’ve done no harm. No one has lost anything by me.” + +“Eight of us have lost our time in pursuing you. You gave up the +nugget because you were forced to. You intended to carry it away.” + +“Mercy! mercy! I’m a very unlucky man. I’ll go away and never +trouble you again.” + +“We don’t mean that you shall,” said Crane sternly. “Peabody, tie +his hands; we must take him back with us.” + +“I won’t go,” said Hogan, lying down. “I am not going back to be +hung.” + +It would obviously be impossible to carry a struggling man back +fifteen miles, or more. + +“We must hang you on the spot then,” said Crane, producing a cord. +“Say your prayers; your fate is sealed.” + +“But this is murder!” faltered Hogan, with pallid lips. + +“We take the responsibility.” + +He advanced toward Hogan, who now felt the full horrors of his +situation. He sprang to his feet, rushed in frantic fear to the +edge of the precipice, threw up his arms, and plunged headlong. It +was done so quickly that neither of his captors was able to prevent +him. + +They hurried to the precipice and looked over. A hundred feet +below, on a rough rock, they saw a shapeless and motionless figure, +crushed out of human semblance. + +“Perhaps it is as well,” said Crane gravely. “He has saved us an +unwelcome task.” + +The nugget was restored to its owners, to whom Hogan’s tragical +fate was told. + +“Poor fellow!” said Joe soberly. “I would rather have lost the +nugget.” + +“So would I,” said Bickford. “He was a poor, shif’less critter; but +I’m sorry for him.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +HOW JOE’S BUSINESS PROSPERED + + +Joe and his friend Bickford arrived in San Francisco eight days +later without having met with any other misadventure or drawback. +He had been absent less than three months, yet he found changes. A +considerable number of buildings had gone up in different parts of +the town during his absence. + +“It is a wonderful place,” said Joe to his companion. + +“It is going to be a great city some day.” + +“It’s ahead of Pumpkin Holler already,” said Mr. Bickford, “though +the Holler has been goin’ for over a hundred years.” + +Joe smiled at the comparison. He thought he could foresee the rapid +progress of the new city, but he was far from comprehending the +magnificent future that lay before it. A short time since, the +writer of this story ascended to the roof of the Palace Hotel, +and from this lofty elevation, a hundred and forty feet above the +sidewalk, scanned with delighted eyes a handsome and substantial +city, apparently the growth of a century, and including within its +broad limits a population of three hundred thousand souls. It will +not be many years before it reaches half-a-million, and may fairly +be ranked among the great cities of the world. + +Of course Joe’s first visit was to his old place of business. He +received a hearty greeting from Watson, his deputy. + +“I am glad to see you, Joe,” said he, grasping our hero’s hand +cordially. “When did you arrive?” + +“Ten minutes ago. I have made you the first call.” + +“Perhaps you thought I might have ‘vamosed the ranch,’” said +Watson, smiling, “and left you and the business in the lurch.” + +“I had no fears on that score,” said Joe. “Has business been good?” + +“Excellent. I have paid weekly your share of the profits to Mr. +Morgan.” + +“Am I a millionaire yet?” asked Joe. + +“Not quite. I have paid Mr. Morgan on your account”--here Watson +consulted a small account-book--“nine hundred and twenty-five +dollars.” + +“Is it possible?” said Joe, gratified. “That is splendid.” + +“Then you are satisfied?” + +“More than satisfied.” + +“I am glad of it. I have made the same for myself and so have +nearly half made up the sum which I so foolishly squandered at the +gaming-table.” + +“I am glad for you, Mr. Watson.” + +“How have you prospered at the mines?” + +“I have had excellent luck.” + +“I don’t believe you bring home as much money as I have made for +you here.” + +“Don’t bet on that, Mr. Watson, for you would lose.” + +“You don’t mean to say that you have made a thousand dollars?” +exclaimed Watson, surprised. + +“I have made five thousand dollars within a hundred or two.” + +“Is it possible?” ejaculated Watson. “You beat everything for luck, +Joe.” + +“So he does,” said Bickford, who felt that it was time for him to +speak. “It’s lucky for me that I fell in with him. It brought me +luck, too, for we went into partnership together.” + +“Have you brought home five thousand dollars, too?” asked Watson. + +“I’ve got about the same as Joe, and now I’m going home to marry +Susan Smith if she’ll have me.” + +“She’ll marry a rich miner, Mr. Bickford. You needn’t be concerned +about that.” + +“I feel pretty easy in mind,” said Joshua. + +“How soon do you sail?” + +“When does the next steamer go?” + +“In six days.” + +“I guess it’ll carry me.” + +Watson turned to Joe. + +“I suppose you will now take charge of your own business?” said he. +“I am ready to hand over my trust at any minute.” + +“Would you object to retaining charge for--say for four months to +come?” asked Joe. + +“Object? I should be delighted to do it. I couldn’t expect to make +as much money any other way.” + +“You see, Mr. Watson, I am thinking of going home myself on a +visit. I feel that I can afford it, and I should like to see my old +friends and acquaintances under my new and improved circumstances.” + +Watson was evidently elated at the prospect of continued employment +of so remunerative a character. + +“You may depend upon it that your interests are safe in my hands,” +said he. “I will carry on the business as if it were my own. +Indeed, it will be for my interest to do so.” + +“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Watson. I have perfect confidence In your +management.” + +Joe’s next call was on his friend Morgan, by whom also he was +cordially welcomed. + +“Have you called on Watson?” he asked. + +“Yes.” + +“Then he has probably given you an idea of how your business has +gone on during your absence. He is a thoroughly reliable man, in my +opinion. You were fortunate to secure his services.” + +“So I think.” + +“Have you done well at the mines?” asked Mr. Morgan doubtfully. + +“You hope so, but you don’t feel confident?” said Joe, smiling. + +“You can read my thoughts exactly. I don’t consider mining as +reliable as a regular business.” + +“Nor I, in general, but there is one thing you don’t take into +account.” + +“What is that?” + +Mr. Bickford answered the question. + +“Joe’s luck.” + +“Then you have been lucky?” + +“How much do you think I have brought home?” + +“A thousand dollars?” + +“Five times that sum.” + +“Are you in earnest?” asked Mr. Morgan, incredulous. + +“Wholly so.” + +“Then let me congratulate you--on that and something else.” + +“What is that?” + +“The lots you purchased, including the one on which your restaurant +is situated, have more than doubled in value.” + +“Bully for you, Joe!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford enthusiastically. + +“It never rains but it pours,” said Joe, quoting an old proverb. “I +begin to think I shall be rich some time, Mr. Morgan.” + +“It seems very much like it.” + +“What would you advise me to do, Mr. Morgan--sell out the lots at +the present advance?” + +“Hold on to them, Joe. Not only do that, but buy more. This is +destined some day to be a great city. It has a favorable location, +is the great mining center, and the State, I feel convinced, has +an immense territory fit for agricultural purposes. Lots here may +fluctuate, but they will go up a good deal higher than present +figures.” + +“If you think so, Mr. Morgan, I will leave in your hands three +thousand dollars for investment in other lots. This will leave me, +including my profits from the business during my absence, nearly +three thousand dollars more, which I shall take East and invest +there.” + +“I will follow your instructions, Joe, and predict that your real +estate investments will make you rich sooner than you think.” + +“Joe,” said Bickford, “I’ve a great mind to leave half of my money +with Mr. Morgan to be invested in the same way.” + +“Do it, Mr. Bickford. That will leave you enough to use at home.” + +“Yes--I can buy a farm for two thousand dollars and stock it for +five hundred more. Besides, I needn’t pay more than half down, if I +don’t want to.” + +“A good plan,” said Joe. + +“Mr. Morgan, will you take my money and invest it for me just like +Joe’s? Of course I want you to take a commission for doing it.” + +“With pleasure, Mr. Bickford, more especially as I have decided to +open a real estate office in addition to my regular business. You +and Joe will be my first customers. I shouldn’t wonder if the two +or three thousand dollars you leave with me should amount in ten +years to ten thousand.” + +“Ten thousand!” ejaculated Joshua, elated. “Won’t I swell round +Pumpkin Holler when I’m worth ten thousand dollars!” + +Six days later, among the passengers by the steamer for Panama, +were Joseph Mason and Joshua Bickford. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +JOE’S WELCOME HOME + + +On arriving in New York both Joe and Mr. Bickford bought new suits +of clothes. Mr. Bickford purchased a blue dress suit, resplendent +with brass buttons, and a gold watch and chain, which made a good +deal of show for the money. His tastes were still barbaric, and a +quiet suit of black would not have come up to his idea of what was +befitting a successful California miner. + +He surveyed himself before the tailor’s glass with abundant +satisfaction. + +“I guess that’ll strike ’em at home, eh, Joe?” he said. + +“You look splendid, Mr. Bickford.” + +“Kinder scrumptious, don’t I?” + +“Decidedly so.” + +“I say, Joe, you’d better have a suit made just like this.” + +Joe shuddered at the thought. In refinement of taste he was +decidedly ahead of his friend and partner. + +“I’m going to buy a second-hand suit,” he said. + +“What!” ejaculated Joshua. + +Joe smiled. + +“I knew you’d be surprised, but I’ll explain. I want people to +think at first that I have been unlucky.” + +“Oh, I see,” said Joshua, nodding; “kinder take ’em in.” + +“Just so, Mr. Bickford.” + +“Well, there is something in that.” + +“Then I shall find out who my true friends are.” + +“Just so.” + + * * * * * + +It is not my purpose to describe Mr. Bickford’s arrival in Pumpkin +Hollow, resplendent in his new suit. Joshua wouldn’t have changed +places with the President of the United States on that day. His +old friends gathered about him, and listened open-mouthed to +his stories of mining life in California and his own wonderful +exploits, which lost nothing in the telling. He found his faithful +Susan unmarried, and lost no time in renewing his suit. He came, he +saw, he conquered! + +In four weeks Susan became Mrs. Bickford, her husband became +the owner of the farm he coveted, and he at once took his place +among the prominent men of Pumpkin Hollow. In a few years he +was appointed justice of the peace, and became known as Squire +Bickford. It may be as well to state here, before taking leave +of him, that his real estate investments in San Francisco proved +fortunate, and in ten years he found himself worth ten thousand +dollars. This to Joshua was a fortune, and he is looked upon as a +solid man in the town where he resides. + +We now turn to Joe. + +Since his departure nothing definite had been heard of him. Another +boy had taken his place on Major Norton’s farm, but he was less +reliable than Joe. + +“I am out of patience with that boy. I wish I had Joe back again.” + +“Have you heard anything of Joe since he went away?” inquired Oscar. + +“Not a word.” + +“I don’t believe he went to California at all.” + +“In that case we should have heard from him.” + +“No, Joe’s proud--poor and proud!” said Oscar. “I guess he’s wished +himself back many a time, but he’s too proud to own it.” + +“Joe was good to work,” said the major. + +“He was too conceited. He didn’t know his place. He thought himself +as good as me,” said Oscar arrogantly. + +“Most people seemed to like Joe,” said the major candidly. + +“I didn’t,” said Oscar, tossing his head. “If he’d kept in his +place and realized that he was a hired boy, I could have got along +well enough with him.” + +“I wish he would come back,” said the major. “I would take him +back.” + +“I dare say he’s had a hard time and would be humbler now,” said +Oscar. + +At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and just afterward +Joe entered. + +He wore a mixed suit considerably the worse for wear and patched in +two or three places. There was a rip under the arm, and his hat, a +soft felt one, had become shapeless from long and apparently hard +usage. He stood in the doorway, waiting for recognition. + +“How do you do, Joe?” said Major Norton cordially. “I am glad to +see you.” + +Joe’s face lighted up. + +“Thank you, sir,” he said. + +“Shake hands, Joe.” + +Major Norton was mean in money matters, but he had something of the +gentleman about him. + +Oscar held aloof. + +“How do you do, Oscar?” + +“I’m well,” said Oscar. “Have you been to California?” + +“Yes.” + +“You don’t seem to have made your fortune,” said Oscar +superciliously, eying Joe’s shabby clothing. + +“I haven’t starved,” said Joe. + +“Where did you get that suit of clothes?” asked Oscar. + +“I hope you’ll excuse my appearance,” said Joe. + +“Well, Joe, do you want to come back to your old place?” asked +Major Norton. “I’ve got a boy, but he doesn’t suit me.” + +“How much would you be willing to pay me, Major Norton?” + +The major coughed. + +“Well,” said he, “I gave you your board and clothes before. That’s +pretty good pay for a boy.” + +“I’m older now.” + +“I’ll do the same by you, Joe, and give you fifty cents a week +besides.” + +“Thank you for the offer, Major Norton. I’ll take till to-morrow to +think of it.” + +“You’d better accept it now,” said Oscar. “Beggars shouldn’t be +choosers.” + +“I am not a beggar, Oscar,” said Joe mildly. + +“You look like one, anyway,” said Oscar bluntly. + +“Oscar,” said Major Norton, “if Joe has been unlucky, you shouldn’t +throw it in his teeth.” + +“He went off expecting to make his fortune,” said Oscar, in an +exulting tone. “He looks as if he had made it. Where are you going?” + +“I am going to look about the village a little. I will call again.” + +After Joe went out Oscar said: + +“It does me good to see Joe come in rags. Serves him right for +putting on airs.” + +On the main street Joe met Annie Raymond. + +“Why, Joe!” she exclaimed, delighted. “Is it really you?” + +“Bad pennies always come back,” said Joe. + +“Have you---- I am afraid you have not been fortunate,” said the +young lady, hesitating as she noticed Joe’s shabby clothes. + +“Do you think less of me for that?” + +“No,” said Annie Raymond warmly. “It is you I like, not your +clothes. You may have been unfortunate, but I am sure you deserved +success.” + +“You are a true friend, Miss Annie, so I don’t mind telling you +that I was successful.” + +Annie Raymond looked astonished. + +“And these clothes--” she began. + +“I put on for Oscar Norton’s benefit. I wanted to see how he would +receive me. He evidently rejoiced at my bad fortune.” + +“Oscar is a mean boy. Joe, you must come to our house to supper.” + +“Thank you, I will; but I will go round to the hotel and change my +clothes.” + +“Never mind.” + +“But I do mind. I don’t fancy a shabby suit as long as I can afford +to wear a good one.” + +Joe went to the hotel, took off his ragged clothes, put on a new +and stylish suit which he recently had made for him, donned a gold +watch and chain, and hat in the latest style, and thus dressed, his +natural good looks were becomingly set off. + +“How do I look now?” he asked, when he met Miss Annie Raymond at +her own door. + +“Splendidly, Joe. I thought you were a young swell from the city.” + +After supper Annie said, her eyes sparkling with mischief: + +“Suppose we walk over to Major Norton’s and see Oscar.” + +“Just what I wanted to propose.” + +Oscar was out in the front yard, when he caught sight of Joe and +Annie Raymond approaching. He did not at first recognize Joe, but +thought, like the young lady, that it was some swell from the city. + +“You see I’ve come again, Oscar,” said Joe, smiling. + +Oscar could not utter a word. He was speechless with astonishment. + +“I thought you were poor,” he uttered, at last. + +“I have had better luck than you thought.” + +“I suppose you spent all your money for those clothes.” + +“You are mistaken, Oscar. I am not so foolish. I left between two +and three thousand dollars in a New York bank, and I have more than +twice that in San Francisco.” + +“It isn’t possible!” exclaimed Oscar, surprised and disappointed. + +“Here is my bank-book; you can look at it,” and Joe pointed to a +deposit of twenty-five hundred dollars. “I don’t think, Oscar, it +will pay me to accept your father’s offer and take my old place.” + +“I don’t understand it. How did you do it?” asked the bewildered +Oscar. + +“I suppose it was my luck,” said Joe. + +“Not wholly that,” said Annie Raymond. “It was luck and labor.” + +“I accept the amendment, Miss Annie.” + +Oscar’s manner changed at once. Joe, the successful Californian, +was very different from Joe, the hired boy. He became very +attentive to our hero, and before he left town condescended to +borrow twenty dollars of him, which he never remembered to repay. +He wanted to go back to California with Joe, but his father would +not consent. + +When Joe returned to San Francisco, by advice of Mr. Morgan he sold +out his restaurant to Watson and took charge of Mr. Morgan’s real +estate business. He rose with the rising city, became a very rich +man, and now lives in a handsome residence on one of the hills that +overlook the bay. He has an excellent wife--our old friend, Annie +Raymond--and a fine family of children. His domestic happiness is +by no means the smallest part of Joe’s luck. + + +THE END + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12823 *** diff --git a/12823-h/12823-h.htm b/12823-h/12823-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f7881d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/12823-h/12823-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7755 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8" /> + <title> + Joe’s luck or always wide awake, by Horatio Alger, Jr.—A Project Gutenberg eBook + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> + <style> /* <![CDATA[ */ + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h1 { + font-weight: normal; + font-size: 240%; +} + +h2 { + margin-top: 4em; + font-weight: normal; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +.p1 {margin-top: 1em;} +.p3 {margin-top: 3em;} +.p1bot {margin-bottom: 1em;} + +.fs120 {font-size: 120%;} +.fs150 {font-size: 150%;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 30%; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +x-ebookmaker hr.chap {width: 0%; display: none;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.lht {line-height: 1.5em;} + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em;} +ul {list-style-type: none;} + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.illowp30 {width: 30%;} + +x-ebookmaker-drop, .x-ebookmaker-drop {} + + /* ]]> */ </style> + + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12823 ***</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="figcenter illowp30" id="cover" style="max-width: 30em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover created by the transcriber" /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h1>JOE’S LUCK<br /> +OR<br /> +ALWAYS WIDE AWAKE</h1> + + +<p class="center p3 fs150">BY<br /> +HORATIO ALGER, JR.</p> + + +<p class="center p3 fs150">AUTHOR OF<br /> +<span class="lht">“TONY THE TRAMP,” “SLOW AND SURE,” “THE CASH BOY,”</span><br /> +“MAKING HIS WAY,” “JACK’S WARD,” “DO AND DARE,”<br /> +“FACING THE WORLD,” “STRONG AND STEADY,”<br /> +“STRIVE AND SUCCEED,” ETC.</p> + + +<p class="center p3">NEW YORK<br /> +THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY<br /> +1913</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p class="center p1 fs150">JOE’S LUCK</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br /> +INTRODUCES JOE</h2> + +<p>“Come here, you Joe, and be quick about it!”</p> + +<p>The boy addressed, a stout boy of fifteen, with an honest, +sun-browned face, looked calmly at the speaker.</p> + +<p>“What’s wanted?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Brush me off, and don’t be all day about it!” said Oscar Norton +impatiently.</p> + +<p>Joe’s blue eyes flashed indignantly at the tone of the other.</p> + +<p>“You can brush yourself off,” he answered independently.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by your impudence?” demanded Oscar angrily. “Have +you turned lazy all at once?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joe firmly, “but I don’t choose to be ordered round by +you.”</p> + +<p>“What’s up, I wonder? Ain’t you our servant?”</p> + +<p>“I am not your servant, though your father is my employer.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are bound to obey me—his son.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see it.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’d better, if you know what’s best for yourself. Are you +going to brush me off?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Look out! I can get my father to turn you off.”</p> + +<p>“You may try if you want to.”</p> + +<p>Oscar, much incensed, went to his father to report Joe’s +insubordination. While he is absent, a few words of explanation will +enlighten the reader as to Joe’s history and present position.</p> + +<p>Joe Mason was alone in the world. A year previous he had lost his +father, his only remaining parent, and when the father’s affairs were +settled and funeral expenses paid there was found to be just five +dollars left, which was expended for clothing for Joe.</p> + +<p>In this emergency Major Norton, a farmer and capitalist, offered to +provide Joe with board and clothes and three months’ schooling in the +year in return for his services. As nothing else offered, Joe +accepted, but would not bind himself for any length of time. He was +free to go whenever he pleased.</p> + +<p>Now there were two disagreeable things in Joe’s new place. The first +was the parsimony of Major Norton, who was noted for his stingy +disposition, and the second was the overbearing manners of Oscar, who +lost no opportunity to humiliate Joe and tyrannize over him so far as +Joe’s independent spirit would allow. It happened, therefore, that +Joe was compelled to work hard, while the promised clothing was of +the cheapest and shabbiest description. He was compelled to go to +school in patched shoes and a ragged suit, which hurt his pride as he +compared himself with Oscar, who was carefully and even handsomely +dressed. Parsimonious as his father was, he was anxious that his +only boy should appear to advantage.</p> + +<p>On the very day on which our story begins Oscar had insulted Joe in a +way which excited our hero’s bitter indignation.</p> + +<p>This is the way it happened:</p> + +<p>Joe, who was a general favorite on account of his good looks and +gentlemanly manners, and in spite of his shabby attire, was walking +home with Annie Raymond, the daughter of the village physician, when +Oscar came up.</p> + +<p>He was himself secretly an admirer of the young lady, but had never +received the least encouragement from her. It made him angry to see +his father’s drudge walking on equal terms with his own favorite, and +his coarse nature prompted him to insult his enemy.</p> + +<p>“Miss Raymond,” he said, lifting his hat mockingly, “I congratulate +you on the beau you have picked up.”</p> + +<p>Annie Raymond fully appreciated his meanness, and answered calmly:</p> + +<p>“I accept your congratulations, Mr. Norton.”</p> + +<p>This answer made Oscar angry and led him to go further than he +otherwise would.</p> + +<p>“You must be hard up for an escort, when you accept such a ragamuffin +as Joe Mason.”</p> + +<p>Joe flushed with anger.</p> + +<p>“Oscar Norton, do you mean to insult Miss Raymond or me,” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“So you are on your high horse!” said Oscar sneeringly.</p> + +<p>“Will you answer my question?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will. I certainly don’t mean to insult Miss Raymond, but I +wonder at her taste in choosing my father’s hired boy to walk with.”</p> + +<p>“I am not responsible to you for my choice, Oscar Norton,” said Annie +Raymond, with dignity. “If my escort is poorly dressed, it is not +his fault, nor do I think the less of him for it.”</p> + +<p>“If your father would dress me better, I should be very glad of it,” +said Joe. “If I am a ragamuffin, it is his fault.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll report that to him,” said Oscar maliciously.</p> + +<p>“I wish you would. It would save me the trouble of asking him for +better clothes.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose we go on,” said Annie Raymond.</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said Joe politely.</p> + +<p>And they walked on, leaving Oscar discomfited and mortified.</p> + +<p>“What a fool Annie Raymond makes of herself” he muttered. “I should +think she’d be ashamed to go round with Joe Mason.”</p> + +<p>Oscar would have liked to despise Annie Raymond, but it was out of +his power. She was undoubtedly the belle of the school, and he would +have been proud to receive as much notice from her as she freely +accorded to Joe. But the young lady had a mind and a will of her +own, and she had seen too much to dislike in Oscar to regard him with +favor, even if he were the son of a rich man, while she had the good +sense and discrimination to see that Joe, despite his ragged garb, +possessed sterling good qualities.</p> + +<p>When Oscar got home he sought his father.</p> + +<p>“Father,” said he, “I heard Joe complaining to Annie Raymond that you +didn’t dress him decently.”</p> + +<p>Major Norton looked annoyed.</p> + +<p>“What does the boy mean?” he said. “What does he expect?”</p> + +<p>“He should be dressed as well as I am,” said Oscar maliciously.</p> + +<p>“Quite out of the question,” said the major hastily. “Your clothes +cost a mint of money.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, you want me to look well, father. I am your son, and he +is only your hired boy.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want folks to talk,” said the major, who was sensitive to +public opinion. “Don’t you think his clothes are good enough?”</p> + +<p>“Of course they are; but I’ll tell you what, father,” said Oscar, +with a sudden idea, “you know that suit of mine that I got stained +with acid?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Oscar,” said the major gravely. “I ought to remember it. It +cost me thirty-four dollars, and you spoiled it by your carelessness.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose you give that to Joe?” suggested Oscar.</p> + +<p>“He’s a good deal larger than you. It wouldn’t fit him; and, +besides, it’s stained.”</p> + +<p>“What right has a hired boy to object to a stain? No matter if it is +too small, he has no right to be particular.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, Oscar,” said the major, who was glad to be saved the +expense of a new suit for Joe. Even he had been unpleasantly +conscious that Joe’s appearance had become discreditable to him. +“You may bring it down, Oscar,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I dare say Joe won’t like the idea of wearing it, but a boy in his +position has no right to be proud.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not,” returned the major, his ruling passion gratified by +the prospect of saving the price of a suit. “When Joseph comes +home—at any rate, after he is through with his chores—you may tell +him to come in to me.”</p> + +<p>“All right, sir.”</p> + +<p>Before Oscar remembered this message, the scene narrated at the +commencement of the chapter occurred. On his way to complain to his +father, he recollected the message, and, retracing his steps, said to +Joe:</p> + +<p>“My father wants to see you right off.”</p> + +<p>This was a summons which Joe felt it his duty to obey. He +accordingly bent his steps to the room where Major Norton usually sat.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br /> +THE STAINED SUIT</h2> + +<p>“Oscar tells me that you wish to see me, sir,” said Joe, as he +entered the presence of his pompous employer.</p> + +<p>Major Norton wheeled round in his armchair and looked at Joe over his +spectacles. He looked at Joe’s clothes, too, and it did strike him +forcibly that they were very shabby. However, there was Oscar’s +stained suit; which was entirely whole and of excellent cloth. As to +the stains, what right had a boy like Joe to be particular?</p> + +<p>“Ahem!” said the major, clearing his throat. “Oscar tells me that +you are not satisfied with the clothes I have I given you.”</p> + +<p>“He has told you the truth, Major Norton,” replied Joe bluntly. “If +you will look for yourself, I think you will see why I am +dissatisfied.”</p> + +<p>“Joseph,” said the major, in a tone of disapproval, “you are too free +spoken. I understand you have been complaining to Doctor Raymond’s +daughter of the way I dress you.”</p> + +<p>“Did Oscar tell you the way that happened?” inquired Joe.</p> + +<p>“I apprehend he did not.”</p> + +<p>“When I was walking home with Miss Annie Raymond, Oscar came up and +insulted me, calling me a ragamuffin. I told him that, if I was a +ragamuffin, it was not my fault.”</p> + +<p>Major Norton looked disturbed.</p> + +<p>“Oscar was inconsiderate,” he said. “It seems to me that your +clothes are suitable to your station in life. It is not well for a +boy in your circumstances to be ‘clothed in purple and fine linen,’ +as the Scriptures express it. However, perhaps it is time for you to +have another suit.”</p> + +<p>Joe listened in astonishment. Was it possible that Major Norton was +going to open his heart and give him what he had long secretly +desired?</p> + +<p>Our hero’s delusion was soon dissipated.</p> + +<p>Major Norton rose from his seat, and took from a chair near-by a +stained suit, which had not yet attracted Joe’s attention.</p> + +<p>“Here is a suit of Oscar’s,” he said, “which is quite whole and +almost new. Oscar only wore it a month. It cost me thirty-four +dollars!” said the major impressively.</p> + +<p>He held it up, and Joe recognized it at once.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it the suit Oscar got stained?” he asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Ahem! Yes; it is a little stained, but that doesn’t injure the +texture of the cloth.”</p> + +<p>As he held it up the entire suit seemed to have been sprinkled with +acid, which had changed the color in large, patches in different +parts. The wearer would be pretty sure to excite an unpleasant +degree of attention.</p> + +<p>Joe did not appear to be overwhelmed with the magnificence of the +gift.</p> + +<p>“If it is so good, why don’t Oscar wear it?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Major Norton regarded Joe with displeasure.</p> + +<p>“It cannot matter to you how Oscar chooses to dress,” he said. “I +apprehend that you and he are not on a level.”</p> + +<p>“He is your son, and I am your hired boy,” said Joe. “I admit that. +But I don’t see how you can ask me to wear a suit like that.”</p> + +<p>“I apprehend that you are unsuitably proud, Joseph.”</p> + +<p>“I hope not, sir; but I don’t want to attract everybody’s notice as I +walk the streets. If I had stained the suit myself, I should have +felt bound to wear it, but it was Oscar’s carelessness that destroyed +its appearance, and I don’t think I ought to suffer for that. +Besides, it is much too small for me. Let me show you.”</p> + +<p>Joe pulled off his coat and put on the stained one. The sleeves were +from two to three inches too short, and it was so far from meeting in +front, on account of his being much broader than Oscar, that his +shoulders seemed drawn back to meet each other behind.</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t exactly fit,” said the major; “but it can be let out +easily. I will send it to Miss Pearce—the village tailoress—to fix +it over for you.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Major Norton,” said Joe, in a decided tone, “but I hope +you won’t go to that expense, for I shall not be willing to wear it +under any circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot believe my ears,” said Major Norton, with dignified +displeasure. “How old are you, Joseph?”</p> + +<p>“Fifteen, sir.”</p> + +<p>“It is not fitting that you, a boy of fifteen, should dictate to your +employer.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t wish to, Major Norton, but I am not willing to wear that +suit.”</p> + +<p>“You are too proud. Your pride needs taking down.”</p> + +<p>“Major Norton,” said Joe firmly, “I should like to tell you how I +feel. You are my employer, and I am your hired boy. I try to do my +duty by you.”</p> + +<p>“You are a good boy to work, Joseph. I don’t complain of that.”</p> + +<p>“You agreed to give me board and clothing for my services.”</p> + +<p>“So I have.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but you have dressed me in such a way that I attract +attention in the street for my shabbiness. I don’t think I am very +proud, but I have been mortified! more than once when I saw people +looking at my patched clothes and shoes out at the toes. I think if +I work faithfully I ought to be dressed decently.”</p> + +<p>“Joseph,” said Major Norton uneasily, “you look at the thing too +one-sided. You don’t expect me to dress you like Oscar?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I don’t. If you would spend half as much for my clothes as +you do for Oscar’s I would be contented.”</p> + +<p>“It seems to me you are very inconsistent. Here is a suit of clothes +that cost me thirty-four dollars, which I offer you, and you decline.”</p> + +<p>“You know why well enough, sir,” said Joe, “You did not tell me you +intended to dress me in Oscar’s castoff clothes, too small, and +stained at that. I would rather wear the patched suit I have on till +it drops to pieces than wear this suit.”</p> + +<p>“You can go, Joseph,” said Major Norton, in a tone of annoyance. “I +did not expect to find you so unreasonable. If you do not choose to +take what I offer you, you will have to go without.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir.”</p> + +<p>Joe left the room, his face flushed and his heart full of indignation +at the slight which had been attempted on him.</p> + +<p>“It is Oscar’s doings, I have no doubt,” he said to himself. “It is +like his meanness. He meant to mortify me.”</p> + +<p>If there had been any doubt in Joe’s mind, it would soon have been +cleared up. Oscar had been lying in wait for his appearance, and +managed to meet him as he went out into the yard.</p> + +<p>“Where are your new clothes?” he asked mockingly.</p> + +<p>“I have none,” answered Joe.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t my father give you a suit of mine?”</p> + +<p>“He offered me the suit which you stained so badly with acid.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s pretty good,” said Oscar patronizingly. “I only wore it +about a month.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you wear it longer?”</p> + +<p>“Because it isn’t fit for me to wear,” returned Oscar.</p> + +<p>“Nor for me,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say you’ve declined?” exclaimed Oscar, in surprise.</p> + +<p>“That is exactly what I have done.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“You ought to know why.”</p> + +<p>“It is better than the one you have on.”</p> + +<p>“It is too small for me. Besides, it would attract general +attention.”</p> + +<p>“Seems to me somebody is getting proud,” sneered Oscar. “Perhaps you +think Annie Raymond wouldn’t walk with you in that suit?”</p> + +<p>“I think it would make no difference to her,” said Joe. “She was +willing to walk with me in this ragged suit.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t admire her taste.”</p> + +<p>“She didn’t walk with my clothes; she walked with me.”</p> + +<p>“A hired boy!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am a hired boy; but I don’t get very good pay.”</p> + +<p>“You feel above your business, that’s what’s the matter with you.”</p> + +<p>“I hope some time to get higher than my business,” said Joe. “I mean +to rise in the world, if I can.”</p> + +<p>Oscar shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you would like to be a wealthy merchant, or a member of +Congress,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I certainly should.”</p> + +<p>Oscar burst into a sneering laugh, and left Joe alone.</p> + +<p>Joe’s work was done, and, being left free to do as he liked, he +strolled over to the village store.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br /> +THE RETURNED CALIFORNIAN</h2> + +<p>The village store, in the evening, was a sort of village club-house, +where not only the loungers, but a better class, who desired to pass +the evening socially, were wont to congregate. About the center of +the open space was a large box-stove, which in winter was kept full +of wood, ofttimes getting red-hot, and around this sat the villagers. +Some on wooden chairs, some on a wooden settee, with a broken back, +which was ranged on one side.</p> + +<p>Joe frequently came here in the evening to pass a social hour and +kill time. At the house of Major Norton he had no company. Oscar +felt above him, and did not deign to hold any intercourse with his +father’s drudge, while the housekeeper—Major Norton being a +widower—was busy about her own special work, and would have wondered +at Joe if he had sought her company. I make this explanation because +I do not wish it to be understood that Joe was a common village +lounger, or loafer.</p> + +<p>When Joe entered the store he found the usual company present, but +with one addition.</p> + +<p>This was Seth Larkin, who had just returned from California, whither +he had gone eighteen months before, and was, of course, an object of +great attention, and plied with numerous questions by his old +acquaintances in regard to the land of promise in the far West, of +which all had heard so much.</p> + +<p>It was in the fall of the year 1851, and so in the early days of +California.</p> + +<p>Seth was speaking as Joe entered.</p> + +<p>“Is there gold in California?” repeated Seth, apparently in answer to +a question. “I should say there was. Why, it’s chock full of it. +People haven’t begun to find out the richness of the country. It’s +the place for a poor man to go if he wants to become rich. What’s +the prospects here? I ask any one of you. A man may go working and +plodding from one year’s end to another and not have ten dollars at +the end of it. There’s some here that know that I speak the truth.”</p> + +<p>“How much better can a man do in California?” asked Daniel Tompkins.</p> + +<p>“Well, Dan,” said Seth, “it depends on the kind of man he is. If +he’s a man like you, that spends his money for rum as fast as he gets +it, I should say it’s just as well to stay here. But if he’s willing +to work hard, and to put by half he makes, he’s sure to do well, and +he may get rich. Why, I knew a man that landed in California the +same day that I did, went up to the mines, struck a vein, and—well, +how much do you think that man is worth to-day?”</p> + +<p>“A thousand dollars?” suggested Dan Tompkins.</p> + +<p>“Why, I’m worth more than that myself, and I wasn’t lucky, and had +the rheumatism for four months. You’ll have to go higher.”</p> + +<p>“Two thousand?” guessed Sam Stone.</p> + +<p>“We don’t make much account of two thousand dollars in the mines, +Sam,” said Seth.</p> + +<p>“It’s of some account here,” said Sam. “I’ve been workin’ ten years, +and I ain’t saved up a third of it.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t doubt it,” said Seth; “and it ain’t your fault, either. +Money’s scarce round here, and farmin’ don’t pay. You know what I +was workin’ at before I went out—in a shoe shop. I just about made +a poor livin’, and that was all. I didn’t have money enough to pay +my passage out, but I managed to borrow it. Well, it’s paid now, and +I’ve got something left.”</p> + +<p>“You haven’t told us yet how much the man made that you was talkin’ +about,” said Tom Sutter. “It couldn’t be five thousand dollars, now, +could it?”</p> + +<p>“I should say it could,” said Seth.</p> + +<p>“Was it any more?” inquired Dan Tompkins.</p> + +<p>“Well, boys, I s’pose I may as well tell you, and you may b’lieve it +or not, just as you like. That man is worth twenty thousand dollars +to-day.”</p> + +<p>There was a chorus of admiring ejaculations.</p> + +<p>“Twenty thousand dollars! Did you ever hear the like?”</p> + +<p>“Mind, boys, I don’t say it’s common to make so much money in so +short a time. There isn’t one in ten does it, but some make even +more. What I do say is, that a feller that’s industrious, and +willin’ to work, an’ rough it, and save what he makes, is sure to do +well, if he keeps well. That’s all a man has a right to expect, or +to hope for.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure it is.”</p> + +<p>“What made you come home, Seth, if you were gettin’ on so well?” +inquired one.</p> + +<p>“That’s a fair question,” said Seth, “and I’m willin’ to answer it. +It was because of the rheumatics. I had ’em powerful bad at the +mines, and I’ve come home to kinder recuperate, if that’s the right +word. But I’m goin’ back ag’in, you may bet high on that. No more +work in the shoe shop for me at the old rates. I don’t mean that I’d +mind bein’ a manufacturer on a big scale. That’s a little more +stiddy and easy than bein’ at the mines, but that takes more capital +than I’ve got.”</p> + +<p>“How much does it cost to go out there?” asked Dan Tompkins.</p> + +<p>“More money than you can scare together, Dan. First-class, nigh on +to three hundred dollars, I believe.”</p> + +<p>This statement rather dampened the ardor of more than one of the +listeners. Three hundred dollars, or even two, were beyond the +convenient reach of most of those present. They would have to +mortgage their places to get it.</p> + +<p>“You can go second-class for a good deal less, and you can go round +the Horn pretty cheap,” continued Seth.</p> + +<p>“How far away is Californy?” inquired Sam Stone.</p> + +<p>“By way of the isthmus, it must be as much as six thousand miles, and +it’s twice as fur, I reckon, round the Horn. I don’t exactly know +the distance.”</p> + +<p>“Then it’s farther away than Europe,” said Joe, who had been +listening with eager interest.</p> + +<p>“Of course it is,” said Seth. “Why, that’s Joe Mason, isn’t it? How +you’ve grown since I saw you.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think I have?” said Joe, pleased with the assurance.</p> + +<p>“To be sure you have. Why, you’re a big boy of your age. How old +are you?”</p> + +<p>“Fifteen—-nearly sixteen.”</p> + +<p>“That’s about what I thought. Where are you livin’ now, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“I’m working for Major Norton.”</p> + +<p>Seth burst into a laugh.</p> + +<p>“I warrant you haven’t made your fortune yet, Joe,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t made the first start yet toward it.”</p> + +<p>“And you won’t while you work for the major. How much does he pay +you?”</p> + +<p>“Board and clothes.”</p> + +<p>“And them are the clothes?” said Seth, surveying Joe’s appearance +critically.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I guess the major’s tailor’s bill won’t ruin him, then. Are they +the best you’ve got?”</p> + +<p>“No; I’ve got a better suit for Sunday.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s something. You deserve to do better, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could,” said Joe wistfully. “Is there any chance for a boy +in California, Mr. Larkin?”</p> + +<p>“Call me Seth. It’s what I’m used to. I don’t often use the handle +to my name. Well, there’s a chance for a boy, if he’s smart; but +he’s got to work.”</p> + +<p>“I should be willing to do that.”</p> + +<p>“Then, if you ever get the chance, it won’t do you any harm to try +your luck.”</p> + +<p>“How much did you say it costs to get there?”</p> + +<p>“Well, maybe you could get there for a hundred dollars, if you wasn’t +particular how you went.”</p> + +<p>A hundred dollars! It might as well have been ten thousand, as far +as Joe was concerned. He received no money wages, nor was he likely +to as long as he remained in the major’s employ. There was a shoe +shop in the village, where money wages were paid, but there was no +vacancy; and, even if there were, Joe was quite unacquainted with the +business, and it would be a good while before he could do any more +than pay his expenses.</p> + +<p>Joe sighed as he thought how far away was the prospect of his being +able to go to California. He could not help wishing that he were the +possessor of the magic carpet mentioned in the Arabian tale, upon +which the person seated had only to wish himself to be transported +anywhere, and he was carried there in the twinkling of an eye.</p> + +<p>Joe walked home slowly, dreaming of the gold-fields on the other side +of the continent, and wishing he were there.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br /> +JOE’S LEGACY</h2> + +<p>The next day was Saturday. There was no school, but this did not +lighten Joe’s labors, as he was kept at work on the farm all day.</p> + +<p>He was in the barn when Deacon Goodwin, a neighbor, drove up.</p> + +<p>Oscar was standing in front of the house, whittling out a cane from a +stick he had cut in the woods.</p> + +<p>“Is Joe Mason at home?” the deacon inquired.</p> + +<p>Oscar looked up in surprise. Why should the deacon want Joe Mason?</p> + +<p>“I suppose he is,” drawled Oscar.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know?”</p> + +<p>“Probably he is in the barn,” said Oscar indifferently.</p> + +<p>“Will you call him? I want to see him on business.”</p> + +<p>Oscar was still more surprised. He was curious about the business, +but his pride revolted at the idea of being sent to summon Joe.</p> + +<p>“You’ll find him in the barn,” said he.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to leave my horse,” said the deacon. “I will take it +as a favor if you will call him.”</p> + +<p>Oscar hesitated. Finally he decided to go and then return to hear +what business Joe and the deacon had together. He rather hoped that +Joe had been trespassing on the deacon’s grounds, and was to be +reprimanded.</p> + +<p>He opened the barn door and called out:</p> + +<p>“Deacon Goodwin wants you out at the gate.”</p> + +<p>Joe was as much surprised as Oscar.</p> + +<p>He followed Oscar to the front of the house and bade the deacon good +morning.</p> + +<p>“Oscar tells me you want to see me,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Joe. Do you remember your Aunt Susan?”</p> + +<p>“My mother’s aunt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; she’s dead and buried.”</p> + +<p>“She was pretty old,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“The old lady had a small pension,” continued the deacon, “that just +about kept her, but she managed to save a little out of it. When the +funeral expenses were paid it was found that there were fifty-six +dollars and seventy-five cents over.”</p> + +<p>“What’s going to be done with it?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“She’s left it to you,” was the unexpected reply, “You was the +nearest relation she had, and it was her wish that whatever was left +should go to you.”</p> + +<p>“I’m very much obliged to her. I didn’t expect anything. I had +almost forgotten I had a great-aunt.”</p> + +<p>“The money has been sent to me, Joe,” continued the deacon. “I’m +ready to pay it over to you when you want it, but I hope you won’t +spend it foolish.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I shall, Deacon Goodwin.”</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t take long to spend it, Joe,” said the deacon. “Do you +want me to keep it for you?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe; “I haven’t had time to think. I’ll come +round to-night and see you.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Joseph. G’lang, Dobbin!” and the deacon started his old +horse, who had completed his quarter century, along the road.</p> + +<p>Oscar had listened, not without interest, to the conversation. +Though he was the son of a rich man, he had not at command so large a +sum as his father’s hired boy had fallen heir to. On the whole, he +respected Joe rather more than when he was altogether penniless.</p> + +<p>“You’re in luck, Joe,” said he graciously.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joe. “It’s very unexpected.”</p> + +<p>“You might buy yourself a new suit of clothes.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t intend to do that.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? You were wishing for one yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“Because it is your father’s place to keep me in clothes. That’s the +bargain I made with him.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you are right,” said Oscar.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what you can do,” he said, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“You might buy a boat.”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t have any time to use it.”</p> + +<p>“You might go out with it in the evening. I would look after it in +the daytime.”</p> + +<p>No doubt this arrangement would be satisfactory to Oscar, who would +reap all the advantage, but Joe did not see it in a favorable light.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I should care to buy a boat,” he said.</p> + +<p>“What do you say to buying a revolver?”</p> + +<p>“I think it would be better to put it on interest.”</p> + +<p>“You’d better get the good of it now. You might die and then what +use would the money be?”</p> + +<p>On the way to the deacon’s Joe fell in with Seth Larkin.</p> + +<p>“Well, my boy, where are you bound?” asked Seth.</p> + +<p>“To collect my fortune,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Seth asked for an explanation and received it.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad for you and I wish it were more.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“What for? Anything particular?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; if it was enough, I would go to California.”</p> + +<p>“And you really want to go?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I suppose fifty dollars wouldn’t be enough?”</p> + +<p>“No; it wouldn’t,” said Seth; “but I’ll tell you what you could do.”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“Go to New York and keep yourself till you got a chance to work your +passage round the Horn.”</p> + +<p>“So I might,” said Joe, brightening up.</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t be easy, but you wouldn’t mind that.”</p> + +<p>“No; I wouldn’t mind that.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if you decide to go, come round and see me to-morrow, and I’ll +give you the best advice I can.”</p> + +<p>The deacon opposed Joe’s plan, but in vain. Our hero had made up his +mind. Finally the old man counted out the money and Joe put it in an +old wallet.</p> + +<p>The next thing was to give Major Norton warning.</p> + +<p>“Major Norton,” said Joe, “I should like to have you get another boy +in my place.”</p> + +<p>“What, Joe?” exclaimed the major.</p> + +<p>“I am going to leave town.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” asked his employer.</p> + +<p>“First to New York and afterwards to California.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I declare! Is it because you ain’t satisfied with your +clothes?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I don’t see much prospect for me if I stay here and I have +heard a good deal about California.”</p> + +<p>“But you haven’t got any money.”</p> + +<p>“I have almost sixty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; Oscar told me. You’d better stay here.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I have made up my mind.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll come back in a month without a cent.”</p> + +<p>“If I do, I’ll go to work again for you.”</p> + +<p>Monday morning came. Clad in his Sunday suit of cheap and rough +cloth, Joe stood on the platform at the depot. The cars came up, he +jumped aboard, and his heart beat with exultation as he reflected +that he had taken the first step toward the Land of Gold.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br /> +AT THE COMMERCIAL HOTEL</h2> + +<p>Joe had never been in New York and when he arrived the bustle and +confusion at first bewildered him.</p> + +<p>“Have a hack, young man?” inquired a jehu.</p> + +<p>“What’ll you charge?”</p> + +<p>“A dollar and a half, and half-a-dollar for your baggage.”</p> + +<p>“This is all the baggage I have,” said Joe, indicating a bundle tied +in a red cotton handkerchief.</p> + +<p>“Then, I’ll only charge a dollar and a half,” said the hackman.</p> + +<p>“I’ll walk,” said Joe. “I can’t afford to pay a dollar and a half.”</p> + +<p>“You can’t walk; it’s too far.”</p> + +<p>“How far is it?”</p> + +<p>“Ten miles, more or less,” answered the hackman.</p> + +<p>“Then I shall save fifteen cents a mile,” said Joe, not much alarmed, +for he did not believe the statement.</p> + +<p>“If you lose your way, don’t blame me.”</p> + +<p>Joe made his way out of the crowd, and paused at the corner of the +next street for reflection. Finally he stopped at an apple and +peanut stand, and, as a matter of policy, purchased an apple.</p> + +<p>“I am from the country,” he said, “and I want to find a cheap hotel. +Can you recommend one to me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the peanut merchant. “I know of one where they charge a +dollar a day.”</p> + +<p>“Is that cheap? What do they charge at the St. Nicholas?”</p> + +<p>“Two dollars a day.”</p> + +<p>“A day?” asked Joe, in amazement.</p> + +<p>It must be remembered that this was over fifty years ago. Joe would +have greater cause to be startled at the prices now asked at our +fashionable hotels.</p> + +<p>“Well, you can go to the cheap hotel.”</p> + +<p>“Where is it?”</p> + +<p>The requisite directions were given. It was the Commercial Hotel, +located in a down-town street.</p> + +<p>The Commercial Hotel, now passed away, or doing business under a +changed name, was not a stylish inn.</p> + +<p>It was rather dark and rather dingy, but Joe did not notice that +particularly. He had never seen a fine hotel, and this structure, +being four stories in height above the offices, seemed to him rather +imposing than otherwise.</p> + +<p>He walked up to the desk, on which was spread out, wide open, the +hotel register. Rather a dissipated-looking clerk stood behind the +counter, picking his teeth.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, sir,” said Joe politely. “What do you charge to stay +here?”</p> + +<p>“A dollar a day,” answered the clerk.</p> + +<p>“Can you give me a room?”</p> + +<p>“I guess so, my son. Where is your trunk?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t got any.”</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you got any baggage?”</p> + +<p>“Here it is.”</p> + +<p>The clerk looked rather superciliously at the small bundle.</p> + +<p>“Then you’ll have to pay in advance.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Joe. “I’ll pay a day in advance.”</p> + +<p>A freckle-faced boy was summoned, provided with the key of No. 161, +and Joe was directed to follow him.</p> + +<p>“Shall I take your bundle?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No, thank you. I can carry it myself.”</p> + +<p>They went up-stairs, until Joe wondered when they were going to stop. +Finally the boy paused at the top floor, for the very good reason +that he could get no higher, and opened the door of 161.</p> + +<p>“There you are,” said the boy. “Is there anything else you want?”</p> + +<p>“No, thank you.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry there ain’t a bureau to keep your clothes,” said the +freckle-faced boy, glancing at Joe’s small bundle with a smile.</p> + +<p>“It is inconvenient,” answered Joe, taking the joke.</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t like some hot water for shaving, would you?” asked the +boy, with a grin.</p> + +<p>“You can have some put on to heat and I’ll order it when my beard is +grown,” said Joe good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>“All right. I’ll tell ’em to be sure and have it ready in two or +three years.”</p> + +<p>“That will be soon enough. You’d better order some for yourself at +the same time.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I get in hot water every day.”</p> + +<p>The freckle-faced boy disappeared, and Joe sat down on the bed, to +reflect a little on his position and plans.</p> + +<p>So here he was in New York, and on the way to California, too—that +is, he hoped so. How much can happen in a little while. Three days +before he had not dreamed of any change in his position.</p> + +<p>“I hope I shan’t have to go back again to Oakville. I won’t go +unless I am obliged to,” he determined.</p> + +<p>He washed his hands and face, and went down-stairs. He found that +dinner was just ready. It was not a luxurious meal, but, compared +with the major’s rather frugal table, there was great variety and +luxury. Joe did justice to it.</p> + +<p>“Folks live better in the city than they do in the country,” he +thought; “but, then, they have to pay for it. A dollar a day! Why, +that would make three hundred and sixty-five dollars a year!”</p> + +<p>This to Joe seemed a very extravagant sum to spend on one person’s +board and lodging.</p> + +<p>“Now,” thought Joe, after dinner was over, “the first thing for me to +find out is when the California steamer starts and what is the lowest +price I can go for.”</p> + +<p>In the barroom Joe found a file of two of the New York daily papers, +and began to search for the advertisement of the California steamers.</p> + +<p>At last he found it.</p> + +<p>The steamer was to start in three days. Apply for passage and any +information at the company’s offices.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go right down there, and find out whether I’ve got money enough +to take me,” Joe decided.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br /> +JOE BUYS A TICKET</h2> + +<p>The office of the steamer was on the wharf from which it was to +start. Already a considerable amount of freight was lying on the +wharf ready to be loaded. Joe made his way to the office.</p> + +<p>“Well, boy, what’s your business?” inquired a stout man with a red +face, who seemed to be in charge.</p> + +<p>“Is this the office of the California steamer, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What is the lowest price for passage?”</p> + +<p>“A hundred dollars for the steerage.”</p> + +<p>When Joe heard this his heart sank within him. It seemed to be the +death-blow to his hopes. He had but fifty dollars, or thereabouts, +and there was no chance whatever of getting the extra fifty.</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t I pay you fifty dollars now and the rest as soon as I can +earn it in California?” he pleaded.</p> + +<p>“We don’t do business in that way.”</p> + +<p>“I’d be sure to pay it, sir, if I lived,” said Joe. “Perhaps you +think I am not honest.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know whether you are or not,” said the agent cavalierly. +“We never do business in that way.”</p> + +<p>Joe left the office not a little disheartened.</p> + +<p>“I wish it had been a hundred dollars Aunt Susan left me,” he said to +himself.</p> + +<p>Joe’s spirits were elastic, however. He remembered that Seth had +never given him reason to suppose that the money he had would pay his +passage by steamer. He had mentioned working his passage in a +sailing-vessel round the Horn. Joe did not like that idea so well, +as the voyage would probably last four months, instead of twenty-five +days, and so delay his arrival.</p> + +<p>The afternoon slipped away almost without Joe’s knowledge. He walked +about, here and there, gazing with curious eyes at the streets, and +warehouses, and passing vehicles, and thinking what a lively place +New York was, and how different life was in the metropolis from what +it had been to him in the quiet country town which had hitherto been +his home. Somehow it seemed to wake Joe up, and excite his ambition, +to give him a sense of power which he had never felt before.</p> + +<p>“If I could only get a foothold here,” thought Joe, “I should be +willing to work twice as hard as I did on the farm.”</p> + +<p>This was what Joe thought. I don’t say that he was correct. There +are many country boys who make a mistake in coming to the city. They +forsake quiet, comfortable homes, where they have all they need, to +enter some city counting-room, or store, at starvation wages, with, +at best, a very remote prospect of advancement and increased risk of +falling a prey to temptation in some of the many forms which it +assumes in a populous town. A boy needs to be strong, and +self-reliant, and willing to work if he comes to the city to compete +for the prizes of life. As the story proceeds, we shall learn +whether Joe had these necessary qualifications.</p> + +<p>When supper was over he went into the public room of the Commercial +Hotel, and took up a paper to read. There was a paragraph about +California, and some recent discoveries there, which he read with +avidity.</p> + +<p>Though Joe was not aware of it, he was closely observed by a +dark-complexioned man, dressed in rather a flashy manner. When our +hero laid down the paper this man commenced a conversation.</p> + +<p>“I take it you are a stranger in the city, my young friend?” he +observed, in an affable manner.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” answered Joe, rather glad to have some one to speak to. +“I only arrived this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! May I ask from what part of the country you come?”</p> + +<p>“From Oakville, New Jersey.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! I know the place. It is quite a charming town.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about that,” said Joe. “It’s pretty quiet and +dull—nothing going on.”</p> + +<p>“So you have come to the city to try your luck?”</p> + +<p>“I want to go to California.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see—to the gold-diggings.”</p> + +<p>“Have you ever been there, sir?”</p> + +<p>“No; but I have had many friends go there. When do you expect to +start?”</p> + +<p>“Why, that is what puzzles me,” Joe replied frankly. “I may not be +able to go at all.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t got money enough to buy a ticket.”</p> + +<p>“You have got some money, haven’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I have fifty dollars; but I need that a hundred dollars is the +lowest price for a ticket.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be discouraged, my young friend,” said the stranger, in the +most friendly manner. “I am aware that the ordinary charge for a +steerage ticket is one hundred dollars, but exceptions are sometimes +made.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think they will make one in my case,” said Joe. “I told the +agent I would agree to pay the other, half as soon as I earned it, +but he said he didn’t do business in that way.”</p> + +<p>“Of course. You are a stranger to him, don’t you see? That makes +all the difference in the world. Now, I happen to be personally +acquainted with him. I am sure he would do me a favor. Just give me +the fifty dollars, and I’ll warrant I’ll get the ticket for you.”</p> + +<p>Joe was not wholly without caution, and the thought of parting with +his money to a stranger didn’t strike him favorably. Not that he had +any doubts as to his new friend’s integrity, but it didn’t seem +businesslike.</p> + +<p>“Can’t I go with you to the office?” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“I think I can succeed better in the negotiation if I am alone,” said +the stranger. “I’ll tell you what—you needn’t hand me the money, +provided you agree to take the ticket off my hands at fifty dollars +if I secure it.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly I will, and be very thankful to you.”</p> + +<p>“I always like to help young men along,” said the stranger +benevolently. “I’ll see about it to-morrow. Now, where can I meet +you?”</p> + +<p>“In this room. How will that do?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly. I am sure I can get the ticket for you. Be sure to have +the money ready.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be sure,” said Joe cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“And hark you, my young friend,” continued the stranger, “don’t say a +word to any one of what I am going to do for you, or I might have +other applications, which I should be obliged to refuse.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir. I will remember.”</p> + +<p>Punctually at four the next day the stranger entered the room, where +Joe was already awaiting him.</p> + +<p>“Have you succeeded?” asked Joe eagerly.</p> + +<p>The stranger nodded.</p> + +<p>“Let us go up to your room and complete our business. For reasons +which I have already mentioned, I prefer that the transaction should +be secret.”</p> + +<p>“All right, sir.”</p> + +<p>Joe got his key, and led the way up-stairs.</p> + +<p>“I had a little difficulty with the agent,” said the stranger; “but +finally he yielded, out of old friendship.” He produced a large card, +which read thus:</p> + + +<p class="center p1 p1bot fs120"><b>CALIFORNIA STEAMSHIP COMPANY.<br /> +THE BEARER<br /> +Is Entitled to One Steerage Passage<br /> +FROM<br /> +NEW YORK TO SAN FRANCISCO<br /> +STEAMER COLUMBUS.</b></p> + + +<p>Below this was printed the name of the agent. Joe paid over the +money joyfully.</p> + +<p>“I am very much obliged to you,” he said gratefully.</p> + +<p>“Don’t mention it,” said the stranger, pocketing the fifty dollars. +“Good day! Sorry to leave you, but I am to meet a gentleman at five.”</p> + +<p>He went down-stairs, and left Joe alone.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br /> +JOE GETS INTO TROUBLE</h2> + +<p>“How lucky I have been,” thought Joe, in the best of spirits. “There +wasn’t one chance in ten of my succeeding, and yet I have succeeded. +Everything has turned out right. If I hadn’t met this man, I +couldn’t have got a ticket at half price.”</p> + +<p>Joe found that after paying his hotel expenses, he should have a +dollar left over. This would be rather a small sum to start with in +California, but Joe didn’t trouble himself much about that.</p> + +<p>In the course of the day Joe found himself in the upper part of the +Bowery. It seemed to him a very lively street, and he was much +interested in looking in at the shop windows as he passed.</p> + +<p>He was standing before a window, when a stone from some quarter +struck the pane and shivered it in pieces.</p> + +<p>Joe was startled, and was gazing at the scene of havoc in +bewilderment, when a stout German, the proprietor, rushed out and +seized him by the collar.</p> + +<p>“Aha! I have you, you young rascal!” he exclaimed furiously. “I’ll +make you pay for this!”</p> + +<p>By this time Joe had recovered his senses.</p> + +<p>“Let me alone!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“I let you know!” exclaimed the angry man. “You break my window! +You pay me five dollar pretty quick, or I send you to prison!”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t break your window! It’s a lie!”</p> + +<p>“You tell me I lie?” shouted the angry German. “First you break my +window, then you tell me I lie! You, one bad boy—you one loafer!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know who broke your window,” said Joe, “but I tell you I +didn’t. I was standing here, looking in, when, all at once, I heard +a crash.”</p> + +<p>“You take me for one fool, perhaps,” said his captor, puffing with +excitement. “You want to get away, hey?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do.”</p> + +<p>“And get no money for my window?”</p> + +<p>By this time a crowd had collected around the chief actors in this +scene. They were divided in opinion.</p> + +<p>“Don’t he look wicked, the young scamp?” said a thin-visaged female +with a long neck.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said her companion. “He’s one of them street rowdies that go +around doin’ mischief. They come around and pull my bell, and run +away, the villians!”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, my boy?” asked a tall man with sandy hair, +addressing himself to Joe in a friendly tone.</p> + +<p>“This man says I broke his window.”</p> + +<p>“How was it? Did you break it?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I was standing looking in, when a stone came from +somewhere and broke it.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, sir,” said the sandy-haired man, addressing himself to +the German, “what reason have you for charging this boy with breaking +your window?”</p> + +<p>“He stood shoost in front of it,” said the German.</p> + +<p>“If he had broken it, he would have run away. Didn’t that occur to +you?”</p> + +<p>“Some one broke mine window,” said the German.</p> + +<p>“Of course; but a boy who threw a stone must do so from a distance, +and he wouldn’t be likely to run up at once to the broken window.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not. The man’s a fool!” were the uncomplimentary remarks +of the bystanders, who a minute before had looked upon Joe as +undoubtedly guilty.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got no case at all,” said Joe’s advocate. “Let go the boy’s +collar, or I shall advise him to charge you with assault and battery.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe you one friend of his?” said the German.</p> + +<p>“I never saw the boy before in my life,” said the other, “but I don’t +want him falsely accused.”</p> + +<p>“Somebody must pay for my window.”</p> + +<p>“That’s fair; but it must be the boy or man that broke it, not my +young friend here, who had no more to do with it than myself. I +sympathize with you, and wish you could catch the scamp that did it.”</p> + +<p>At that moment a policeman came up.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“My window was broke—dat’s what’s de matter.”</p> + +<p>“Who broke it?” asked the policeman.</p> + +<p>“I caught dat boy standing outside,” pointing to Joe.</p> + +<p>“Aha, you young rascal! I’ve caught you, have I? I’ve had my eye on +you for weeks!”</p> + +<p>And Joe, to his dismay, found himself collared anew.</p> + +<p>“I’ve only been in the city two days,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Take him to jail!” exclaimed the German.</p> + +<p>And the policeman was about to march off poor Joe, when a voice of +authority stayed him.</p> + +<p>“Officer, release that boy!” said the sandy-haired man sternly.</p> + +<p>“I’ll take you along, too, if you interfere.”</p> + +<p>“Release that boy!” repeated the other sternly; “and arrest the +German for assault and battery. I charge him with assaulting this +boy!”</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” demanded the officer insolently.</p> + +<p>“My name is ——, and I am one of the new police commissioners,” +said the sandy-haired man quietly.</p> + +<p>Never was there a quicker change from insolence to fawning.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir,” said the officer, instantly releasing +Joe. “I didn’t know you.”</p> + +<p>“Nor your duty, either, it appears,” said the commissioner sternly. +“Without one word of inquiry into the circumstances, you were about +to arrest this boy. A pretty minister of justice you are!”</p> + +<p>“Shall I take this man along, sir?” asked the policeman, quite +subdued.</p> + +<p>At this suggestion the bulky Teuton hurried into his shop, trembling +with alarm. With great difficulty he concealed himself under the +counter.</p> + +<p>“You may let him go this time. He has some excuse for his conduct, +having suffered loss by the breaking of his window. As for you, +officer, unless you are more careful in future, you will not long +remain a member of the force.”</p> + +<p>The crowd disappeared, only Joe and his advocate remaining behind.</p> + +<p>“I am grateful to you, sir, for your kindness,” said Joe. “But for +you I should have been carried to the station-house.”</p> + +<p>“It is fortunate I came along just as I did. Are you a stranger in +the city?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You must be careful not to run into danger. There are many perils +in the city for the inexperienced.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir. I shall remember your advice.”</p> + +<p>The next day, about two hours before the time of sailing, Joe went +down to the wharf.</p> + +<p>As he was going on board a man stopped him.</p> + +<p>“Have you got a ticket?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Joe, “a steerage ticket. There it is.”</p> + +<p>“Where did you get this?” asked the man.</p> + +<p>Joe told him.</p> + +<p>“How much did you pay for it?”</p> + +<p>“Fifty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have lost your money, for it is a bogus ticket. You can’t +travel on it.”</p> + +<p>Joe stared at the other in blank dismay. The earth seemed to be +sinking under him. He realized that he had been outrageously +swindled, and that he was farther from going to California than ever.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br /> +JOE’S LUCK CHANGES</h2> + +<p>The intelligence that his ticket was valueless came to Joe like a +thunderbolt from a clear sky. The minute before he was in high +spirits—his prospects seemed excellent and his path bright.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do?” he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you,” said the officer. “One thing is clear—you can’t +go to California on that ticket.”</p> + +<p>Poor Joe! For the moment hope was dead within his breast. He had +but one dollar left and that was only half the amount necessary to +carry him back to the village where we found him at the commencement +of our story. Even if he were able to go back, he felt he would be +ashamed to report the loss of his money. The fact that he had +allowed himself to be swindled mortified him not a little. He would +never hear the last of it if he returned to Oakville.</p> + +<p>“No; I wouldn’t go back if I could,” he decided.</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t I like to get hold of the man that sold me the ticket!”</p> + +<p>He had hardly given mental expression to this wish when it was +gratified. The very man passed him and was about to cross the +gangplank into the steamer. Joe’s eyes flashed, and he sprang +forward and seized the man by the arm.</p> + +<p>The swindler’s countenance changed when he recognized Joe, but he +quickly decided upon his course.</p> + +<p>“What do you want, Johnny?” he asked composedly.</p> + +<p>“What do I want? I want my fifty dollars back.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what you are talking about.”</p> + +<p>“You sold me a bogus ticket for fifty dollars,” said Joe stoutly. +“Here it is. Take it back and give me my money.”</p> + +<p>“The boy must be crazy,” said the swindler.</p> + +<p>“Did you sell him that ticket?” inquired the officer.</p> + +<p>“Never saw him before in my life.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t you mistaken, boy?” asked the officer.</p> + +<p>“No, sir. This is the very man.”</p> + +<p>“Have you any business here?” asked the officer.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the man; “I’ve taken a steerage ticket to San Francisco. +Here it is.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Go in.”</p> + +<p>He tore himself from Joe’s grasp and went on board the steamer. Our +hero, provoked, was about to follow him, when the officer said:</p> + +<p>“Stand back! You have no ticket.”</p> + +<p>“That man bought his ticket with my money.”</p> + +<p>“That is nothing to me,” said the officer. “It may be so, or you may +be mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“I am not mistaken,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You can report it to the police—that is, if you think you can prove +it. Now, stand back!”</p> + +<p>Poor Joe! He had been worsted in the encounter with this +arch-swindler. He would sail for San Francisco on the Columbus. +Perhaps he would make his fortune there, while Joe, whom he had so +swindled, might, within three days, be reduced to beggary.</p> + +<p>Joe felt that his confidence in human nature was badly shaken. +Injustice and fraud seemed to have the best of it in this world, so +far as his experience went, and it really seemed as if dishonesty +were the best policy. It is a hard awakening for a trusting boy, +when he first comes in contact with selfishness and corruption.</p> + +<p>Joe fell back because he was obliged to. He looked around, hoping +that he might somewhere see a policeman, for he wanted to punish the +scoundrel to whom he owed his unhappiness and loss. But, as +frequently happens, when an officer is wanted none is to be seen.</p> + +<p>Joe did not leave the wharf. Time was not of much value to him, and +he decided that he might as well remain and see the steamer start on +which he had fondly hoped to be a passenger.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the preparations for departure went steadily forward. +Trunks arrived and were conveyed on board; passengers, accompanied by +their friends, came, and all was hurry and bustle.</p> + +<p>Two young men, handsomely dressed and apparently possessed of larger +means than the great majority of the passengers, got out of a hack +and paused close to where Joe was standing.</p> + +<p>“Dick,” said one, “I’m really sorry you are not going with me. I +shall feel awfully lonely without you.”</p> + +<p>“I am very much disappointed, Charlie, but duty will keep me at home. +My father’s sudden, alarming sickness has broken up all my plans.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Dick, of course you can’t go.”</p> + +<p>“If my father should recover, in a few weeks, I will come out and +join you, Charlie.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you may be able to, Dick. By the way, how about your ticket?”</p> + +<p>“I shall have to lose it, unless the company will give me another in +place of it.”</p> + +<p>“They ought to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but they are rather stiff about it. I would sell it for a +hundred dollars.”</p> + +<p>Joe heard this and his heart beat high.</p> + +<p>He pressed forward, and said eagerly:</p> + +<p>“Will you sell it to me for that?”</p> + +<p>The young man addressed as Dick looked, in surprise, at the poorly +dressed boy who had addressed him.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to go to California?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Joe. “I am very anxious to go.”</p> + +<p>“Do I understand you to offer a hundred dollars for my ticket?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but I can’t pay you now.”</p> + +<p>“When do you expect to be able to pay me, then?”</p> + +<p>“Not till I’ve earned the money in California.”</p> + +<p>“Have you thought before of going?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. Until an hour ago I thought that it was all arranged that +I should go. I came down here and found that the ticket I had bought +was a bogus one, and that I had been swindled out of my money.”</p> + +<p>“That was a mean trick,” said Dick Scudder indignantly. “Do you know +the man that cheated you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he is on board the steamer.”</p> + +<p>“How much money have you got left?”</p> + +<p>“A dollar.”</p> + +<p>“Only a dollar? And you are not afraid to land in California with +this sum?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I shall go to work at once.”</p> + +<p>“Charlie,” said Dick, turning to his friend, “I will do as you say. +Are you willing to take this boy into your stateroom in my place?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Charles Folsom promptly. “He looks like a good boy. I +accept him as my roommate.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said the other. “My boy, what is your name?”</p> + +<p>“Joe Mason.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Joe, here is my ticket. If you are ever able to pay a hundred +dollars for this ticket, you may pay it to my friend, Charles Folsom. +Now, I advise you both to be getting aboard, as it is nearly time for +the steamer to sail. I won’t go on with you, Charlie, as I must go +back to my father’s bedside.”</p> + +<p>“Good-by, sir. God bless you!” said Joe gratefully. “Good-by, Joe, +and good luck!”</p> + +<p>As they went over the plank, the officer, recognizing Joe, said +roughly:</p> + +<p>“Stand back, boy! Didn’t I tell you you couldn’t go aboard without a +ticket?”</p> + +<p>“Here is my ticket,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“A first-class ticket!” exclaimed the officer, in amazement. “Where +did you get it?”</p> + +<p>“I bought it,” answered Joe.</p> + +<p>“I shall go to California, after all!” thought our hero exultingly.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br /> +THE FIRST DAY ON BOARD</h2> + +<p>“We will look up our stateroom first, Joe,” said his new friend. “It +ought to be a good one.”</p> + +<p>The stateroom proved to be No. 16, very well located and spacious for +a stateroom. But to Joe it seemed very small for two persons. He +was an inexperienced traveler and did not understand that life on +board ship is widely different from life on shore. His companion had +been to Europe and was used to steamer life.</p> + +<p>“I think, Joe,” said he, “that I shall put you in the top berth. The +lower berth is considered more desirable, but I claim it on the score +of age and infirmity.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t look very old, or infirm,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I am twenty-three. And you?”</p> + +<p>“Fifteen—nearly sixteen.”</p> + +<p>“I have a stateroom trunk, which will just slip in under my berth. +Where is your luggage?”</p> + +<p>Joe looked embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know but you will feel ashamed of me,” he said; “but the +only extra clothes I have are tied up in this handkerchief.”</p> + +<p>Charles Folsom whistled.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he, “you are poorly provided. What have you got inside?”</p> + +<p>“A couple of shirts, three collars, two handkerchiefs, and a pair of +stockings.”</p> + +<p>“And you are going a journey of thousands of miles! But never mind,” +he said kindly. “I am not much larger than you, and, if you need it, +I can lend you. Once in California, you will have less trouble than +if you were loaded down with clothes. I must get you to tell me your +story when there is time.”</p> + +<p>They came on deck just in time to see the steamer swing out of the +dock.</p> + +<p>There were some of the passengers with sober faces. They had bidden +farewell to friends and relatives whom they might not see for +years—perhaps never again. They were going to a new country, where +hardships undoubtedly awaited them, and where they must take their +chances of health and success. Some, too, feared seasickness, a +malady justly dreaded by all who have ever felt its prostrating +effects. But Joe only felt joyful exhilaration.</p> + +<p>“You look happy, Joe,” said young Folsom.</p> + +<p>“I feel so,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Are you hoping to make your fortune in California?”</p> + +<p>“I am hoping to make a living,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you make a living here at home?”</p> + +<p>“A poor living, with no prospects ahead. I didn’t mind hard work and +poor clothes, if there had been a prospect of something better by and +by.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me your story. Where were you living?” Charles Folsom listened +attentively.</p> + +<p>“Major Norton didn’t appear disposed to pamper you, or bring you up +in luxury, that’s a fact. It would have been hard lines if, on +account of losing your aunt’s legacy, you had been compelled to go +back to Oakville.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t have gone,” said Joe resolutely.</p> + +<p>“What would you have done?”</p> + +<p>“Stayed in New York, and got a living somehow, even if I had to black +boots in the street.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you’ll do. You’ve got the right spirit. It takes boys and +men like you for pioneers.”</p> + +<p>Joe was gratified at his companion’s approval.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Folsom, “I may as well tell you my story. I am the son +of a New York merchant who is moderately rich. I entered the +counting-room at seventeen, and have remained there ever since, with +the exception of four months spent in Europe.”</p> + +<p>“If you are rich already, why do you go out to California?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“I am not going to the mines; I am going to prospect a little for the +firm. Some day San Francisco will be a large city. I am going to +see how soon it will pay for our house to establish a branch there.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I shall probably go out to the mines and take a general survey of +the country; but, as you see, I do not go out to obtain employment.”</p> + +<p>“It must be jolly not to have to work,” said Joe, “but to have plenty +of money to pay your expenses.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose it is convenient. I believe you haven’t a large +cash surplus?”</p> + +<p>“I have a dollar.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve got some pluck to travel so far away from home with such a +slender capital, by Jove!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that it’s pluck. It’s necessity.”</p> + +<p>“Something of both, perhaps. Don’t you feel afraid of what may +happen?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joe. “California is a new country, and there must be +plenty of work. Now, I am willing to work and I don’t believe I +shall starve.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to feel, Joe. At the worst, you have me to fall back +upon. I won’t see you suffer.”</p> + +<p>“It is very lucky for me. I hope I shan’t give you any trouble.”</p> + +<p>“If you do, I’ll tell you of it,” said Folsom, laughing. “The fact +is, I feel rather as if I were your guardian. An odd feeling that, +as hitherto I have been looked after by others. Now it is my turn to +assume authority.”</p> + +<p>“You will find me obedient,” said Joe, smiling. “Seriously, I am so +inexperienced in the way of the world that I shall consider it a +great favor if you will give me any hints you may think useful to me.”</p> + +<p>Folsom became more and more pleased with his young charge. He saw +that he was manly, amiable, and of good principles, with only one +great fault—poverty—which he was quite willing to overlook.</p> + +<p>They selected their seats in the saloon, and were fortunate enough to +be assigned to the captain’s table. Old travelers know that those +who sit at this table are likely to fare better than those who are +farther removed.</p> + +<p>While Folsom was walking the deck with an old friend, whom he had +found among the passengers, Joe went on an exploring expedition.</p> + +<p>He made his way to that portion of the deck appropriated to the +steerage passengers. Among them his eye fell on the man who swindled +him.</p> + +<p>“You here!” exclaimed the fellow in amazement.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joe, “I am here.”</p> + +<p>“I thought you said your ticket wasn’t good?”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t, as you very well know.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know anything about it. How did you smuggle yourself +aboard?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t smuggle myself aboard at all. I came on like the rest of +the passengers.”</p> + +<p>“Why haven’t I seen you before?”</p> + +<p>“I am not a steerage passenger. I am traveling first-class.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean it!” ejaculated the fellow, thoroughly astonished. +“You told me you hadn’t any more money.”</p> + +<p>“So I did, and that shows that you were the man that sold me the +bogus ticket.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing of the kind,” said the other, but he seemed taken aback by +Joe’s charge. “Well, all I can say is, that you know how to get +round. When a man or boy can travel first-class without a cent of +money, he’ll do.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t have come at all if I had had to swindle a poor boy out +of his money,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Joe walked off without receiving an answer. He took pains to +ascertain the name of the man who had defrauded him. He was entered +on the passenger-list as Henry Hogan.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br /> +THE DETECTED THIEF</h2> + +<p>“Do you expect to be seasick, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Mr. Folsom. This is the first time I have ever been +at sea.”</p> + +<p>“I have crossed the Atlantic twice, and been sick each time. I +suppose I have a tendency that way.”</p> + +<p>“How does it feel?” asked Joe curiously.</p> + +<p>Folsom laughed.</p> + +<p>“It cannot be described,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“Then I would rather remain ignorant,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You are right. This is a case where ignorance is bliss decidedly.”</p> + +<p>Twenty-four hours out Folsom’s anticipations were realized. He +experienced nausea and his head swam.</p> + +<p>Returning from a walk on deck, Joe found his guardian lying down in +the stateroom.</p> + +<p>“Is anything the matter, Mr. Folsom?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing but what I expected. The demon of the sea has me in his +gripe.”</p> + +<p>“Can I do anything for you?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing at present, Joe. What art can minister to a stomach +diseased? I must wait patiently, and it will wear off. Don’t you +feel any of the symptoms?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no—I feel bully,” said Joe. “I’ve got a capital appetite.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you will be spared. It would be dismal for both of us to be +groaning with seasickness.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I stay with you?”</p> + +<p>“No—go on deck. That is the best way to keep well. My sickness +won’t last more than a day or two.”</p> + +<p>The young man’s expectations were realized. After forty-eight hours +he recovered from his temporary indisposition and reappeared on deck.</p> + +<p>He found that his young companion, had made a number of +acquaintances, and had become a general favorite through his frank +and pleasant manners.</p> + +<p>“I think you’ll get on, Joe,” said he. “You make friends easily.”</p> + +<p>“I try to do it,” said Joe modestly.</p> + +<p>“You are fast getting over your country greenness. Of course you +couldn’t help having a share of it, having never lived outside of a +small country village.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad you think so, Mr. Folsom. I suppose I was very green and +I haven’t got over it yet, but in six months I hope to get rid of it +wholly.”</p> + +<p>“It won’t take six months at the rate you are advancing.”</p> + +<p>Day succeeded day and Joe was not sick at all. He carried a good +appetite to every meal and entered into the pleasures of sea life +with zest. He played shuffle-board on deck, guessed daily the ship’s +run, was on the alert for distant sails, and managed in one way or +another to while away the time cheerfully.</p> + +<p>They had got into the Gulf of Mexico, when, one day, there was an +unwonted commotion in the steerage.</p> + +<p>A poor German had lost forty dollars, the entire capital he was +carrying with him to the new country.</p> + +<p>“Some tief has rob me,” he complained, in accents of mingled grief +and anger. “He has rob me of all my gold. He has not left me one +cent.”</p> + +<p>“When did you miss the money?” inquired the first officer.</p> + +<p>“Just now,” said the poor German.</p> + +<p>“When did you see it last?”</p> + +<p>“Last night when I went to mine bed.”</p> + +<p>“Did you take off your clothes?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“What men sleep near you?”</p> + +<p>The German pointed to two. The first was a German.</p> + +<p>“But he would not rob me. He is mine friend,” he said. “He is +Fritz.”</p> + +<p>“Who is the other man?”</p> + +<p>The German pointed to Henry Hogan, the same man who had defrauded Joe.</p> + +<p>“The man’s a fool,” said Hogan. “Does he mean to say a gentleman +like me would steal his paltry money?”</p> + +<p>“He hasn’t said so,” said the first officer quietly. “He only said +that you slept near him.”</p> + +<p>“He’d better not accuse me,” blustered Hogan.</p> + +<p>The officer was a judge of human nature, and Hogan’s manner and words +made him suspect that he was really the guilty party.</p> + +<p>“My man,” said he, “you are making a fuss before you are accused. No +charge has been made against you. The man’s money has been taken, +and some one must have taken it.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe he ever had any,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Can you prove that you had the money?” asked the officer, addressing +the German. “Has any one on board seen it in your possession?”</p> + +<p>An Irishman named Riley came forward.</p> + +<p>“That can I do,” said he. “It was only yesterday morning that I saw +the man counting his money.”</p> + +<p>“In what denomination was the money?”</p> + +<p>Pat Riley scratched his head.</p> + +<p>“Sure I didn’t know that money belonged to any denomination, sir.”</p> + +<p>The officer smiled.</p> + +<p>“I mean, was it in five, or ten, or twenty dollar pieces.”</p> + +<p>“There was four tens, sir—four gould eagles.”</p> + +<p>“Is that right?” inquired the officer, turning to the German.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, that’s what I had.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said the officer, “it seems clearly proved that our German +friend here had the money he claims. Now, I suggest that the two men +he has said occupied bunks nearest to him shall be searched. But +first, if the man who has taken the money will come forward +voluntarily and return the same, I will guarantee that he shall +receive no punishment.”</p> + +<p>He paused for a brief space and looked at Hogan.</p> + +<p>Hogan seemed uneasy, but stolid and obstinate.</p> + +<p>“Since my offer is not accepted,” said the officer, “let the two men +be searched.”</p> + +<p>Fritz, the young German, came forward readily.</p> + +<p>“I am ready,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I am not,” said Hogan. “I protest against this outrage. It is an +infringement of my rights as an American citizen. If any one dares +to lay hands on me, I will have him arrested as soon as we reach +California.”</p> + +<p>His threat produced no effect upon the officer. At a signal two +sailors seized him, and, despite his struggles, turned his pockets +inside out.</p> + +<p>Among the contents were found four gold eagles.</p> + +<p>“It is my money!” exclaimed the poor German.</p> + +<p>“You lie! The money is mine!” said Hogan furiously.</p> + +<p>“There was a cross, which I scratched with a pin, on one piece,” said +the German. “Look! see if it is there.”</p> + +<p>Examination was made, and the scratch was found just as he described +it.</p> + +<p>“The money evidently belongs to the German,” said the officer. “Give +it to him.”</p> + +<p>“You are robbing me of my money,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Look here, my friend, you had better be quiet,” said the officer +significantly, “or I will have you tied up to keep out of mischief. +You are getting off very well as it is. I have no doubt you have +been up to other dishonest tricks before this one.”</p> + +<p>“That is true, sir,” said Joe, speaking up for the first time. “This +is the same man who sold me a bogus ticket, two days before we +sailed, for fifty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a lie!” said Hogan. “I’ll be even with you some time, boy, for +that lie of yours.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care for the threats of such a scoundrel as you are,” said +Joe undauntedly.</p> + +<p>“Look out for him, Joe,” said Folsom. “He will try to do you a +mischief some time.”</p> + +<p>He would have been confirmed in his opinion had he observed the +glance of hatred with which the detected thief followed his young +ward.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br /> +JOE ARRIVES IN SAN FRANCISCO</h2> + +<p>At the isthmus they exchanged steamers, crossing the narrow neck of +land on the backs of mules. To-day the journey is more rapidly and +comfortably made in a railroad-car. Of the voyage on the Pacific +nothing need be said. The weather was fair, and it was uneventful.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful morning in early September when they came in sight +of the Golden Gate, and, entering the more placid waters of San +Francisco Bay, moored at a short distance from the town.</p> + +<p>“What do you think of it, Joe?” asked Charles Folsom.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe slowly. “Is this really San Francisco?”</p> + +<p>“It is really San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t seem to be much built up yet,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>In fact, the appearance of the town would hardly suggest the stately +capital of to-day, which looks out like a queen on the bay and the +ocean, and on either side opens her arms to the Eastern and Western +continents. It was a town of tents and one-story cabins, irregularly +and picturesquely scattered over the hillside, with here and there a +sawmill, where now stand some of the most prominent buildings of the +modern city. For years later there was a large mound of sand where +now the stately Palace Hotel covers two and a half acres. Where now +stand substantial business blocks, a quarter of a century since there +appeared only sandy beaches or mud-flats, with here and there a +wooden pier reaching out into the bay. Only five years before the +town contained but seventy-nine buildings—thirty-one frame, +twenty-six adobe, and the rest shanties. It had grown largely since +then, but even now was only a straggling village, with the air of +recent settlement.</p> + +<p>“You expected something more, Joe, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” admitted Joe.</p> + +<p>“You must remember how new it is. Ten years, nay, five, will work a +great change in this straggling village. We shall probably live to +see it a city of a hundred thousand inhabitants.”</p> + +<p>The passengers were eager to land. They were tired of the long +voyage and anxious to get on shore. They wanted to begin making +their fortunes.</p> + +<p>“What are your plans, Joe?” asked Charles Folsom.</p> + +<p>“I shall accept the first job that offers,” said Joe. “I can’t +afford to remain idle long with my small capital.”</p> + +<p>“Joe,” said the young man seriously, “let me increase your capital +for you. You can pay me back, you know, when it is convenient. +Here, take this gold piece.”</p> + +<p>Our young hero shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Mr. Folsom,” he said, “you are very kind, but I think it +will be better for me to shift on what I have. Then I shall have to +go to work at once, and shall get started in my new career.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose you can’t find work?” suggested Folsom.</p> + +<p>“I will find it,” said Joe resolutely.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps we might take lodgings together, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t afford it,” said Joe. “You’re a gentleman of property, and +I’m a poor boy who has his fortune to make. For the present I must +expect to rough it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Joe, perhaps you are right. At any rate, I admire your pluck +and independent spirit.”</p> + +<p>There was a motley crowd collected on the pier and on the beach when +Joe and his friend landed. Rough, bearded men, in Mexican sombreros +and coarse attire—many in shirt-sleeves and with their pantaloons +tucked in their boots—watched the new arrivals with interest.</p> + +<p>“You needn’t feel ashamed of your clothes, Joe,” said Folsom, with a +smile. “You are better dressed than the majority of those we see.”</p> + +<p>Joe looked puzzled.</p> + +<p>“They don’t look as if they had made their fortunes,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Don’t judge by appearances. In a new country people are careless of +appearances. Some of these rough fellows, no doubt, have their +pockets full of gold.”</p> + +<p>At this moment a rough-looking fellow stepped forward and said +heartily:</p> + +<p>“Isn’t this Charles Folsom?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Folsom, puzzled.</p> + +<p>“You don’t remember me?” said the other, laughing.</p> + +<p>“Not I.”</p> + +<p>“Not remember Harry Carter, your old chum?”</p> + +<p>“Good Heaven!” exclaimed Folsom, surveying anew the rough figure +before him. “You don’t mean to say you are Harry Carter?”</p> + +<p>“The same, at your service.”</p> + +<p>“What a transformation! Why, you used to be rather a swell and +now——”</p> + +<p>“Now I look like a barbarian.”</p> + +<p>“Well, rather,” said Folsom, laughing.</p> + +<p>“You want me to explain? Such toggery as I used to wear would be the +height of folly at the mines.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you have had good luck,” said Folsom.</p> + +<p>“Pretty fair,” said Carter, in a tone of satisfaction. “My pile has +reached five thousand dollars.”</p> + +<p>“And how long have you been at work?”</p> + +<p>“A year. I was a bookkeeper in New York on a salary of fifteen +hundred dollars a year. I used to spend all my income—the more fool +I—till the last six months, when I laid by enough to bring me out +here.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have really bettered yourself?”</p> + +<p>“I should say so. I could only save up five hundred dollars a year +at the best in New York. Here I have crowded ten years into one.”</p> + +<p>“In spite of your large outlay for clothes?”</p> + +<p>“I see you will have your joke. Now, what brings you out here? Are +you going to the mines?”</p> + +<p>“Presently, but not to dig. I came to survey the country.”</p> + +<p>“Let me do what I can for you.”</p> + +<p>“I will. First, what hotel shall I go to?”</p> + +<p>“There is the Leidesdorff House, on California Street. I’ll lead you +there.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Will you come, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will go to find out where it is.”</p> + +<p>The three bent their steps to the hotel referred to. It was a shanty +compared with the magnificent hotels which now open their portals to +strangers, but the charge was ten dollars a day and the fare was of +the plainest.</p> + +<p>“I guess I won’t stop here,” said Joe, “My money wouldn’t keep me +here more than an hour or two.”</p> + +<p>“At any rate, Joe, you must dine with me,” said Folsom. “Then you +may start out for yourself.”</p> + +<p>“You must dine with me, both of you,” said Carter.</p> + +<p>Folsom saw that he was in earnest, and accepted.</p> + +<p>The dinner was plain but abundant, and all three did justice to it. +Joe did not know till afterward that the dinner cost five dollars +apiece.</p> + +<p>After dinner the two friends sat down to talk over old times and +mutual friends, but Joe felt that there was no time for him to lose. +He had his fortune to make. Still more important, he had his living +to make, and in a place where dollars were held as cheap as dimes in +New York or Boston.</p> + +<p>So, emerging into the street, with his small bundle under his arm, he +bent his steps as chance directed.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br /> +JOE FINDS A JOB</h2> + +<p>Joe knew nothing about the streets or their names. Chance brought +him to Clay Street, between what is now Montgomery and Kearny +Streets. Outside of a low wooden building, which appeared to be a +restaurant, was a load of wood.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if I couldn’t get the chance to saw and split that wood?” +thought Joe.</p> + +<p>It would not do to be bashful. So he went in.</p> + +<p>A stout man in an apron was waiting on the guests. Joe concluded +that this must be the proprietor.</p> + +<p>“Sit down, boy,” said he, “if you want some dinner.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve had my dinner,” said Joe. “Don’t you want that wood outside +sawed and split?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Let me do it.”</p> + +<p>“Go ahead.”</p> + +<p>There was a saw and saw-horse outside. The work was not new to Joe, +and he went at it vigorously. No bargain had been made, but Joe knew +so little of what would be considered a fair price that in this first +instance he chose to leave it to his employer.</p> + +<p>As he was at work Folsom and his friend passed by.</p> + +<p>“Have you found a job already?” said Folsom.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You have kept your promise, Joe. You said you would take the first +job that offered.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Folsom; I meant what I said.”</p> + +<p>“Come round to the Leidesdorff House this evening and tell me how you +made out.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir, I will.”</p> + +<p>“That seems a smart boy,” said Carter.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he is. Help him along if you have a chance.”</p> + +<p>“I will. I like his pluck.”</p> + +<p>“He has no false pride. He is ready to do anything.”</p> + +<p>“Everybody is here. You know Jim Graves, who used to have his +shingle up as a lawyer on Nassau Street?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Is he here?”</p> + +<p>“He has been here three months. What do you think he is doing?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t guess.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you could. He has turned drayman.” Charles Folsom +gazed at his friend in wonder.</p> + +<p>“Turned drayman!” he exclaimed. “Is he reduced to that?”</p> + +<p>“Reduced to that! My dear fellow, you don’t understand the use of +language. Graves is earning fifteen dollars a day at his business, +and I don’t believe he made that in New York in a month.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it is a strange state of society. Does he mean to be a +drayman all his life?”</p> + +<p>“Of course not. A year hence he may be a capitalist, or a lawyer +again. Meanwhile he is saving money.”</p> + +<p>“He is a sensible man, after all; but, you see, Carter, it takes time +to adjust my ideas to things here. The first surprise was your rough +appearance.”</p> + +<p>“There is one advantage my rough life has brought me,” said Carter. +“It has improved my health. I was given to dyspepsia when I lived in +New York. Now I really believe I could digest a tenpenny nail, +or—an eating-house mince pie, which is more difficult.”</p> + +<p>“You have steep hills in San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is something of a climb to the top of Clay Street Hill. +When you get to the top you get a fine view, though.”</p> + +<p>Now the hill may be ascended in cars drawn up the steeply graded +sides by an endless rope running just below the surface. No such +arrangement had been thought of then. Folsom gave out when he had +completed half the ascent.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be satisfied with the prospect from here,” he said.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Joe kept steadily at his task.</p> + +<p>“It will take me three hours and a half, possibly four,” he said to +himself, after a survey of the pile. “I wonder what pay I shall +receive.”</p> + +<p>While thus employed many persons passed him.</p> + +<p>One among them paused and accosted him.</p> + +<p>“So you have found work already?” he said.</p> + +<p>Looking up, Joe recognized Harry Hogan, the man who had swindled him. +He didn’t feel inclined to be very social with this man.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said he coldly.</p> + +<p>“Rather strange work for a first-class passenger.”</p> + +<p>He envied Joe because he had traveled first-class, while he had +thought himself fortunate, with the help his dishonesty gave him, in +being able to come by steerage.</p> + +<p>“It is very suitable employment for a boy who has no money,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“How much are you going to be paid for the job?” asked Hogan, with +sudden interest, for ten dollars constituted his only remaining funds.</p> + +<p>If his theft on shipboard had not been detected he would have been +better provided.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe shortly.</p> + +<p>“You didn’t make any bargain, then?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do next?” inquired Hogan.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Hogan finally moved off.</p> + +<p>“I hate that boy,” he soliloquized. “He puts on airs for a country +boy. So he’s getting too proud to talk to me, is he? We’ll see, Mr. +Joseph Mason.”</p> + +<p>Joe kept on till his task was completed, put on his coat and went +into the restaurant.</p> + +<p>It was the supper-hour.</p> + +<p>“I’ve finished the job,” said Joe, in a businesslike tone.</p> + +<p>The German took a look at Joe’s work.</p> + +<p>“You did it up good,” he said. “How much you want?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. What would be a fair price?”</p> + +<p>“I will give you some supper and five dollars.”</p> + +<p>Joe could hardly believe his ears. Five dollars and a supper for +four hours’ work! Surely he had come to the Land of Gold in very +truth.</p> + +<p>“Will dat do?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said Joe. “I didn’t expect so much.”</p> + +<p>“You shouldn’t tell me dat. It isn’t business.”</p> + +<p>Joe pocketed the gold piece which he received with a thrill of +exultation. He had never received so much in value for a week’s work +before. Just then a man paid two dollars for a very plain supper.</p> + +<p>“That makes my pay seven dollars,” said Joe to himself. “If I can +get steady work, I can get rich very quick,” he thought.</p> + +<p>There was one thing, however, that Joe did not take into account. If +his earnings were likely to be large, his expenses would be large, +too. So he might receive a good deal of money and not lay up a cent.</p> + +<p>“Shall you have any more work to do?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not shoost now,” answered the German. “You can look round in a +week. Maybe I have some then.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII<br /> +JOE’S HOTEL</h2> + +<p>Before going to the Leidesdorff House to call upon his friend Folsom, +Joe thought he would try to make arrangements for the night.</p> + +<p>He came to the St. Francis Hotel, on the corner of Dupont and Clay +Streets. There was an outside stair that led to the balcony that ran +all round the second story. The doors of the rooms opened upon this +balcony.</p> + +<p>A man came out from the office.</p> + +<p>“Can I get lodging here?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“How much do you charge?”</p> + +<p>“Three dollars.”</p> + +<p>“He must take me for a millionaire,” thought Joe.</p> + +<p>“I can’t afford it,” he said.</p> + +<p>As Joe descended the stairs he did not feel quite so rich. Six +dollars won’t go far when lodging costs three dollars and supper two.</p> + +<p>Continuing his wanderings, Joe came to a tent, which seemed to be a +hotel in its way, for it had “Lodgings” inscribed on the canvas in +front.</p> + +<p>“What do you charge for lodgings?” Joe inquired.</p> + +<p>“A dollar,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>Looking in, Joe saw that the accommodations were of the plainest. +Thin pallets were spread about without pillows. Joe was not used to +luxury but to sleep here would be roughing it even for him. But he +was prepared to rough it, and concluded that he might as well pass +the night here.</p> + +<p>“All right!” said he. “I’ll be round by and by.”</p> + +<p>“Do you want to pay in advance to secure your bed?”</p> + +<p>“I guess not; I’ll take the risk.”</p> + +<p>Joe went on to the Leidesdorff Hotel and was cordially received by +Mr. Folsom.</p> + +<p>“How much have you earned to-day, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Five dollars and my supper.”</p> + +<p>“That’s good. Is the job finished?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And you have nothing in view for to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; but I guess I shall run across a job.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going to spend the night?”</p> + +<p>“In a tent a little way down the street.”</p> + +<p>“How much will they charge you?”</p> + +<p>“One dollar.”</p> + +<p>“I wish my bed was large enough to hold two; you should be welcome to +a share of it. But they don’t provide very wide bedsteads in this +country.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Folsom’s bed was about eighteen inches wide.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir,” said Joe; “I shall do very well in the tent, I am +sure.”</p> + +<p>“I am thinking of making a trip to the mines with my friend Carter,” +continued Folsom. “Very likely we shall start to-morrow. Do you +want to go with us?”</p> + +<p>“I expect to go to the mines,” said Joe, “but I think I had better +remain awhile in San Francisco, and lay by a little money. You know +I am in debt.”</p> + +<p>“In debt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, for my passage. I should like to pay that off.”</p> + +<p>“There is no hurry about it, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to get it off my mind, Mr. Folsom.”</p> + +<p>About nine o’clock Joe left the hotel and sought the tent where he +proposed to pass the night. He was required to pay in advance, and +willingly did so.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV<br /> +JOE’S SECOND DAY</h2> + +<p>Joe woke up at seven o’clock the next morning. Though his bed was +hard, he slept well, for he was fatigued. He stretched himself and +sat up on his pallet. It is needless to say that he had not +undressed. Three or four men were lying near him, all fast asleep +except one, and that one he recognized as Henry Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Halloo!” said Hogan. “You here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joe, not overpleased at the meeting.</p> + +<p>“We seem to keep together,” said Hogan, with a grin.</p> + +<p>“So it seems,” said Joe coldly.</p> + +<p>Hogan, however, seemed disposed to be friendly.</p> + +<p>“Pretty rough accommodations for the money.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t make so much difference where money is earned easily.”</p> + +<p>“How much money did you make yesterday?”</p> + +<p>Joe’s first thought was to tell him it was none of his business, but +he thought better of it.</p> + +<p>“I made seven dollars,” said he, rather proudly.</p> + +<p>“Pretty good, but I beat you,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“How much did you make?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll show you.”</p> + +<p>Hogan showed five half-eagles.</p> + +<p>“I made it in ten minutes,” he said.</p> + +<p>Joe was decidedly mystified.</p> + +<p>“You are fooling me,” he said.</p> + +<p>“No, I am not. I made it at the gaming-table.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Joe, a little startled, for he had been brought up to +think gambling wicked.</p> + +<p>“Better come and try your luck with me,” said Hogan. “It is easier +and quicker than sawing wood.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is,” said Joe, “but I’d rather saw wood.”</p> + +<p>“I suspect you are a young Puritan.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I am,” said Joe. “At any rate, I don’t mean to gamble.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you like. I can’t afford to be so particular.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to be very particular,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” inquired Hogan suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“You know well enough,” said Joe. “You know the way you had of +getting money in New York. You know the way you tried to get it on +board the steamer.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, young fellow,” said Hogan menacingly, “I’ve heard enough +of this. You won’t find it safe to run against me. I’m a tough +customer, you’ll find.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t doubt it,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Then just be careful, will you? I ain’t going to have you slander +me and prejudice people against me, and I mean to protect myself. Do +you understand me?”</p> + +<p>“I think I do, Mr. Hogan, but I don’t feel particularly alarmed.”</p> + +<p>Joe got up and went out in search of breakfast. Be thought of the +place where he took supper but was deterred from going there by the +high prices.</p> + +<p>“I suppose I shall have to pay a dollar for my breakfast,” he +thought, “but I can’t afford to pay two. My capital is reduced to +five dollars and I may not be able to get anything to do to-day.”</p> + +<p>Joe finally succeeded in finding a humble place where for a dollar he +obtained a cup of coffee, a plate of cold meat, and as much bread as +he could eat.</p> + +<p>“I shall have to make it do with two meals a day,” thought our hero. +“Then it will cost me three dollars a day to live, including lodging, +and I shall have to be pretty lucky to make that.”</p> + +<p>After breakfast Joe walked about the streets, hoping that something +would turn up. But his luck did not seem to be so good as the day +before. Hour after hour passed and no chance offered itself. As he +was walking along feeling somewhat anxious, he met Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Lend me a dollar,” said Hogan quickly. “I’m dead broke.”</p> + +<p>“Where has all your money gone?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Lost it at faro. Lend me a dollar and I’ll win it all back.”</p> + +<p>“I have no money to spare,” said Joe decidedly.</p> + +<p>“Curse you for a young skinflint!” said Hogan, scowling. “I’ll get +even with you yet.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV<br /> +THE FOILED ASSASSIN</h2> + +<p>About four o’clock Joe went into a restaurant and got some dinner. +In spite of his wish to be economical, his dinner bill amounted to a +dollar and a half, and now his cash in hand was reduced to two +dollars and a half.</p> + +<p>Joe began to feel uneasy.</p> + +<p>“This won’t do,” he said to himself. “At this rate I shall soon be +penniless. I must get something to do.”</p> + +<p>In the evening he strolled down Montgomery Street to Telegraph Hill. +It was not a very choice locality, the only buildings being shabby +little dens, frequented by a class of social outlaws who kept +concealed during the day but came out at night—a class to which the +outrages frequent at this time were rightly attributed.</p> + +<p>Joe was stumbling along the uneven path, when all at once he found +himself confronted by a tall fellow wearing a slouched hat. The man +paused in front of him, but did not say a word. Finding that he was +not disposed to move aside, Joe stepped aside himself. He did not as +yet suspect the fellow’s purpose. He understood it, however, when a +heavy hand was laid on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Quick, boy, your money!” said the ruffian.</p> + +<p>Having but two dollars and a half, Joe naturally felt reluctant to +part with it, and this gave him the courage to object.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got none to spare,” he said and tried to tear himself away.</p> + +<p>His resistance led the fellow to suspect that he had a considerable +sum with him. Joe felt himself seized and carried into a den close +by, which was frequented by thieves and desperate characters.</p> + +<p>There was a counter, on which was set a dim oil-lamp. There were a +few bottles in sight, and a villainous-looking fellow appeared to +preside over the establishment. The latter looked up as Joe was +brought in.</p> + +<p>“Who have you there?” asked the barkeeper.</p> + +<p>“A young cove as don’t want to part with his money.”</p> + +<p>“You’d better hand over what you’ve got, young ’un.”</p> + +<p>Joe looked from one to the other and thought he had never seen such +villainous faces before.</p> + +<p>“What are you lookin’ at?” demanded his captor suspiciously, “You +want to know us again, do you? Maybe you’d like to get us hauled up, +would you?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want ever to set eyes on you again.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk. As soon as our business is over, there +ain’t no occasion for our meetin’ again. Don’t you go to point us +out, or——”</p> + +<p>He didn’t finish the sentence, but whipped out a long knife, which +made any further remarks unnecessary.</p> + +<p>Under the circumstances, resistance would be madness and Joe drew out +his money.</p> + +<p>“Is that all you’ve got?” demanded the thief.</p> + +<p>“Every cent,” said Joe. “It won’t leave me anything to pay for my +night’s lodging.”</p> + +<p>“Then you can sleep out. I’ve done it many a time. But I’ll take +the liberty of searching you, and seeing if you tell the truth or +not.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you like,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Joe was searched, but no more money was found.</p> + +<p>“The boy’s told the truth,” said his captor. “Two dollars and a half +is a pretty small haul.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry, gentlemen, that I haven’t anything more. It isn’t my +fault, for I’ve tried hard to get something to do to-day, and +couldn’t.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a cool customer,” said the barkeeper.</p> + +<p>“I expect to be to-night, for I shall have to sleep out.”</p> + +<p>“You can go,” said his captor, as he opened the door of the den; “and +don’t come round here again, unless you’ve got more money with you.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I shall,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>When Joe found himself penniless, he really felt less anxious than +when he had at least money enough to pay for lodging and breakfast. +Having lost everything, any turn of fortune must be for the better.</p> + +<p>“Something has got to turn up pretty quick,” thought Joe. “It’s just +as well I didn’t get a job to-day. I should only have had more money +to lose.”</p> + +<p>He had not walked a hundred feet when his attention was called to the +figure of a gentleman walking some rods in front of him. He saw it +but indistinctly, and would not have given it a second thought had he +not seen that the person, whoever he might be, was stealthily +followed by a man who in general appearance resembled the rascal who +had robbed him of his money. The pursuer carried in his hand a +canvas bag filled with sand. This, though Joe did not know it, was a +dangerous weapon in the hands of a lawless human. Brought down +heavily upon the head of an unlucky traveler, it often produced +instant death, without leaving any outward marks that would indicate +death from violence.</p> + +<p>Though Joe didn’t comprehend the use of the sand-bag, his own recent +experience and the stealthy movement of the man behind convinced him +that mischief was intended. He would have been excusable if, being +but a boy and no match for an able-bodied ruffian, he had got out of +the way. But Joe had more courage than falls to the share of most +boys of sixteen. He felt a chivalrous desire to rescue the +unsuspecting stranger from the peril that menaced him.</p> + +<p>Joe, too, imitating the stealthy motion of the pursuer, swiftly +gained upon him, overtaking him just as he had the sand-bag poised +aloft, ready to be brought down upon the head of the traveler.</p> + +<p>With a cry, Joe rushed upon the would-be assassin, causing him to +stumble and fall, while the gentleman in front turned round in +amazement.</p> + +<p>Joe sprang to his side.</p> + +<p>“Have you a pistol?” he said quickly.</p> + +<p>Scarcely knowing what he did, the gentleman drew out a pistol and put +it in Joe’s hand. Joe cocked it, and stood facing the ruffian.</p> + +<p>The desperado was on his feet, fury in his looks and a curse upon his +lips. He swung the sand-bag aloft.</p> + +<p>“Curse you!” he said. “I’ll make you pay for this!”</p> + +<p>“One step forward,” said Joe, in a clear, distinct voice, which +betrayed not a particle of fear, “and I will put a bullet through +your brain!”</p> + +<p>The assassin stepped back. He was a coward, who attacked from +behind. He looked in the boy’s resolute face, and he saw he was in +earnest.</p> + +<p>“Put down that weapon, you whipper-snapper!”</p> + +<p>“Not much!” answered Joe.</p> + +<p>“I’ve a great mind to kill you!”</p> + +<p>“I’ve no doubt of it,” said our hero; “but you’d better not attack +me. I am armed, and I will fire if you make it necessary. Now, turn +round and leave us.”</p> + +<p>“Will you promise not to shoot?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, if you go off quietly.”</p> + +<p>The order was obeyed, but not very willingly.</p> + +<p>When the highwayman had moved off, Joe said:</p> + +<p>“Now, sir, we’d better be moving, and pretty quickly, or the fellow +may return, with some of his friends, and overpower us. Where are +you stopping?”</p> + +<p>“At the Waverly House.”</p> + +<p>“That is near-by. We will go there at once.”</p> + +<p>They soon reached the hotel, a large wooden building on the north +side of Pacific Street.</p> + +<p>Joe was about to bid his acquaintance good night but the latter +detained him.</p> + +<p>“Come in, my boy,” he said. “You have done me a great service. I +must know more of you.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI<br /> +JOE’S NEW FRIEND</h2> + +<p>“Come up to my room,” said the stranger.</p> + +<p>He obtained a candle at the office, gas not being used in San +Francisco at that time, and led the way to a small chamber on the +second floor.</p> + +<p>“Now, sit down, my boy, and tell me your name.”</p> + +<p>“Joseph Mason.”</p> + +<p>“How long have you been here?”</p> + +<p>“Less than a week.”</p> + +<p>“I only arrived yesterday. But for your help, my residence might +have been a brief one.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad I have been able to be of service to you.”</p> + +<p>“You were a friend in need, and a friend in need is a friend indeed. +It is only fair that I should be a friend to you. It’s a poor rule +that doesn’t work both ways.”</p> + +<p>Joe was favorably impressed with the speaker’s appearance. He was a +man of middle height, rather stout, with a florid complexion, and an +open, friendly face.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir,” he said, “I need a friend, and shall be glad of +your friendship.”</p> + +<p>“Then here’s my hand. Take it, and let us ratify our friendship.”</p> + +<p>Joe took the proffered hand and shook it cordially.</p> + +<p>“My name is George Morgan,” said the stranger. “I came from +Philadelphia. Now we know each other. Where are you staying?”</p> + +<p>Joe’s face flushed and he looked embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“Just before I came up with you,” he answered, thinking frankness +best, “I was robbed of two dollars and a half, all the money I had in +this world. I shall have to stop in the streets to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Not if I know it,” said Morgan emphatically. “This bed isn’t very +large, but you are welcome to a share of it. To-morrow we will form +our plans.”</p> + +<p>“Shan’t I inconvenience you, sir?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not a bit,” answered Morgan heartily.</p> + +<p>“Then I will stay, sir, and thank you. After the adventure I have +had to-night, I shouldn’t enjoy being out in the streets.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me how you came to be robbed. Was it by the same man who made +the attack upon me?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I wish it had been, as then I should feel even with him. +It was a man that looked very much like him, though.”</p> + +<p>Joe gave an account of the robbery, to which his new friend listened +with attention.</p> + +<p>“Evidently,” he said, “the street we were in is not a very safe one. +Have you had any supper?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, sir. Luckily, I got that and paid for it before I had my +money taken.”</p> + +<p>“Good. Now, as I am tired, I will go to bed, and you can follow when +you feel inclined.”</p> + +<p>“I will go now, sir. I have been walking the streets all day, in +search of work, and, though I found none, I am tired, all the same.”</p> + +<p>They woke up at seven o’clock.</p> + +<p>“How did you rest, Joe?” asked George Morgan.</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Do you feel ready for breakfast?”</p> + +<p>“As soon as I can earn money enough to pay for it.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t trouble yourself about that. You are going to breakfast with +me.”</p> + +<p>“You are very kind, Mr. Morgan, but I wish you had some work for me +to do, so that I could pay you.”</p> + +<p>“That may come after awhile. It might not be safe to delay your +breakfast till you could pay for it. Remember, you have done me a +great service, which fifty breakfasts couldn’t pay for.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t think of that, Mr. Morgan,” said Joe modestly. “Anybody would +do what I did.”</p> + +<p>“I am not sure whether everybody would have the courage. But you +must leave me to show my appreciation of your services in my own way.”</p> + +<p>They took breakfast in the hotel and walked out.</p> + +<p>Though it was early, the town was already astir. People got up early +in those days. Building was going on here and there. Draymen were +piloting heavy loads through the streets—rough enough in general +appearance, but drawn from very unlikely social grades.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” said Morgan, in surprise, his glance resting on a young +man of twenty-five, who was in command of a dray. “Do you hear that +drayman?”</p> + +<p>“Is he a foreigner?” asked Joe. “I don’t understand what he is +saying.”</p> + +<p>“He is talking to his horse in Greek, quoting from Homer. Look here, +my friend!” he said, hailing the drayman.</p> + +<p>“What is it, sir?” said the young man courteously.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t I hear you quoting Greek just now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“How happens it that a classical scholar like you finds himself in +such a position?”</p> + +<p>The young man smiled.</p> + +<p>“How much do you think I am earning?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t guess. I am a stranger in this city.”</p> + +<p>“Twenty dollars a day.”</p> + +<p>“Capital! I don’t feel as much surprised as I did. Are you a +college graduate?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. I was graduated at Yale. Then I studied law and three +months since I came out here. It takes time to get into practise at +home and I had no resources to fall back upon. I raised money enough +to bring me to California and came near starving the first week I was +here. I couldn’t wait to get professional work, but I had an offer +to drive a dray. I am a farmer’s son and was accustomed to hard work +as a boy. I accepted the offer and here I am. I can lay up half my +earnings and am quite satisfied.”</p> + +<p>“But you won’t be a drayman all your life?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, sir. But I may as well keep at it till I can get into +something more to my taste.”</p> + +<p>And the young lawyer drove off.</p> + +<p>“It’s a queer country,” said Morgan. “It’s hard to gauge a man by +his occupation here, I see.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could get a dray to drive,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You are not old enough or strong enough yet. I am looking for some +business myself, Joe, but I can’t at all tell what I shall drift +into. At home I was a dry-goods merchant. My partner and I +disagreed and I sold out to him. I drew ten thousand dollars out of +the concern, invested four-fifths of it, and have come out here with +the remainder, to see what I can do.”</p> + +<p>“Ten thousand dollars! What a rich man you must be!” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“In your eyes, my boy. As you get older, you will find that it will +not seem so large to you. At any rate, I hope to increase it +considerably.”</p> + +<p>They were walking on Kearny Street, near California Street, when +Joe’s attention was drawn, to a sign:</p> + +<p class="center p1 p1bot fs120"><b>THIS RESTAURANT FOR SALE</b></p> + +<p>It was a one-story building, of small dimensions, not fashionable, +nor elegant in its appointments, but there wasn’t much style in San +Francisco at that time.</p> + +<p>“Would you like to buy out the restaurant?” asked Morgan.</p> + +<p>“I don’t feel like buying anything out with empty pockets,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Let us go in.”</p> + +<p>The proprietor was a man of middle age.</p> + +<p>“Why do you wish to sell out?” asked Morgan.</p> + +<p>“I want to go to the mines. I need an out-of-door life and want a +change.”</p> + +<p>“Does this business pay?”</p> + +<p>“Sometimes I have made seventy-five dollars profit in a day.”</p> + +<p>“How much do you ask for the business?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take five hundred dollars, cash.”</p> + +<p>“Have you a reliable cook?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. He knows his business.”</p> + +<p>“Will he stay?”</p> + +<p>“For the present. If you want a profitable business, you will do +well to buy.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want it for myself. I want it for this young man.”</p> + +<p>“For this boy?” asked the restaurant-keeper, surprised.</p> + +<p>Joe looked equally surprised.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII<br /> +JOE STARTS IN BUSINESS</h2> + +<p>“Do you think you can keep a hotel, Joe?” asked Morgan.</p> + +<p>“I can try,” said Joe promptly.</p> + +<p>“Come in, gentlemen,” said the restaurant-keeper.</p> + +<p>“We can talk best inside.”</p> + +<p>The room was small, holding but six tables. In the rear was the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>“Let me see your scale of prices,” said Morgan.</p> + +<p>It was shown him.</p> + +<p>“I could breakfast cheaper at Delmonico’s,” he said.</p> + +<p>“And better,” said the proprietor of the restaurant; “but I find +people here willing to pay big prices, and, as long as that’s the +case, I should be a fool to reduce them. Yes, there’s a splendid +profit to be made in the business. I ought to charge a thousand +dollars, instead of five hundred.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you?” asked Morgan bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Because I couldn’t get it. Most men, when they come out here, are +not content to settle down in the town. They won’t be satisfied till +they get to the mines.”</p> + +<p>“That seems to be the case with you, too.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t that altogether. My lungs are weak and confinement isn’t +good for me. Besides, the doctors say the climate in the interior is +better for pulmonary affections.”</p> + +<p>“What rent do you have to pay?”</p> + +<p>“A small ground-rent. I put up this building myself.”</p> + +<p>“How soon can you give possession?”</p> + +<p>“Right off.”</p> + +<p>“Will you stay here three days, to initiate my young friend into the +mysteries of the business?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; I’ll do that willingly.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will buy you out.”</p> + +<p>In five minutes the business was settled.</p> + +<p>“Joe,” said Morgan, “let me congratulate you. You are now one of the +business men of San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“It seems like a dream to me, Mr. Morgan,” said Joe. “This morning +when I waked up I wasn’t worth a cent.”</p> + +<p>“And now you own five hundred dollars,” said Mr. Morgan, laughing.</p> + +<p>“That wasn’t exactly the way I thought of it, sir, but are you not +afraid to trust me to that amount?”</p> + +<p>“No, I am not, Joe,” said Morgan seriously. “I think you are a boy +of energy and integrity. I don’t see why you shouldn’t succeed.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose I shouldn’t?”</p> + +<p>“I shall not trouble myself about the loss. In all probability, you +saved my life last evening. That is worth to me many times what I +have invested for you.”</p> + +<p>“I want to give you my note for the money,” said Joe. “If I live, I +will pay you, with interest.”</p> + +<p>“I agree with you. We may as well put it on a business basis.”</p> + +<p>Papers were drawn up, and Joe found himself proprietor of the +restaurant. He lost no opportunity of mastering the details of the +business. He learned where his predecessor obtained his supplies, +what prices he paid, about how much he required for a day’s +consumption, and what was his scale of prices.</p> + +<p>“Do you live here, Mr. Brock?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I have a bed, which I lay in a corner of the restaurant. Thus +I avoid the expense of a room outside, and am on hand early for +business.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do the same,” said Joe promptly.</p> + +<p>“In that way you will have no personal expenses, except clothing and +washing,” said Brock.</p> + +<p>“I shall be glad to have no bills to pay for board,” said Joe. +“That’s rather a steep item here.”</p> + +<p>“So it is.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see but I can save up pretty much all I make,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Certainly you can.”</p> + +<p>In two days Joe, who was naturally quick and whose natural shrewdness +was sharpened by his personal interest, mastered the details of the +business, and felt that he could manage alone.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Brock,” said he, “you promised to stay with me three days, but I +won’t insist upon the third day. I think I can get along well +without you.”</p> + +<p>“If you can, I shall be glad to leave you at once. The fact is, a +friend of mine starts for the mines to-morrow, and I would like to +accompany him. I asked him to put it off a day, but he thinks he +can’t.”</p> + +<p>“Go with him, by all means. I can get along.”</p> + +<p>So, on the morning of the third day, Joe found himself alone.</p> + +<p>At the end of the first week he made a careful estimate of his +expenses and receipts, and found, to his astonishment, that he had +cleared two hundred dollars. It seemed to him almost incredible, and +he went over the calculations again and again. But he could figure +out no other result.</p> + +<p>“Two hundred dollars in one week!” he said to himself. “What would +Oscar say to that? It seems like a fairy tale.”</p> + +<p>Joe did not forget that he was five hundred dollars In debt. He went +to George Morgan, who had bought out for himself a gentlemen’s +furnishing store, and said:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Morgan, I want to pay up a part of that debt.”</p> + +<p>“So soon, Joe? How much do you want to pay?”</p> + +<p>“A hundred and fifty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say that you have cleared that amount?” said +Morgan, in amazement.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, and fifty dollars more.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. I will receive the money. You do well to wipe out your +debts as soon as possible.”</p> + +<p>Joe paid over the money with no little satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Without going too much into detail, it may be stated that at the end +of a month Joe was out of debt and had three hundred dollars over. +He called on the owner of the land to pay the monthly ground-rent.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you buy the land, and get rid of the rent?” asked the +owner.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to sell?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I am about to return to the East.”</p> + +<p>“What do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“I own two adjoining lots. You may have them all for a thousand +dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Will you give me time?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t. I want to return at once, and I must have the cash.”</p> + +<p>A thought struck Joe.</p> + +<p>“I will take three hours to consider,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>He went to George Morgan and broached his business.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Morgan,” he said, “will you lend me seven hundred dollars?”</p> + +<p>“Are you getting into pecuniary difficulties, Joe?” asked Morgan, +concerned.</p> + +<p>“No, sir; but I want to buy some real estate.”</p> + +<p>“Explain yourself.”</p> + +<p>Joe did so.</p> + +<p>“It is the best thing you can do,” said Morgan, “I will lend you the +money.”</p> + +<p>“I hope to repay it inside of two months,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I think you will, judging from what you have done already.”</p> + +<p>In two hours Joe had paid over the entire amount, for it will be +remembered that he had three hundred dollars of his own, and was +owner of three city lots.</p> + +<p>“Now,” thought he, “I must attend to business, and clear off the debt +I have incurred. I shan’t feel as if the land is mine till I have +paid for it wholly.”</p> + +<p>Joe found it a great advantage that he obtained his own board and +lodging free. Though wages were high, the necessary expenses of +living were so large that a man earning five dollars a day was worse +off oftentimes than one who was earning two dollars at the East.</p> + +<p>“How shall I make my restaurant more attractive?” thought Joe.</p> + +<p>He decided first that he would buy good articles and insist upon as +much neatness as possible about the tables. At many of the +restaurants very little attention was paid to this, and visitors who +had been accustomed to neatness at home were repelled.</p> + +<p>Soon Joe’s dining-room acquired a reputation, and the patronage +increased. At the end of the third month he had not only paid up the +original loan of seven hundred dollars, but was the owner of the +three lots, and had four hundred dollars over. He began to feel that +his prosperity was founded on a solid basis.</p> + +<p>One day about this time, as he was at the desk where he received +money from his patrons as they went out, his attention was drawn to a +rough fellow, having the appearance of a tramp, entering at the door. +The man’s face seemed familiar to him, and it flashed upon him that +it was Henry Hogan, who had defrauded him in New York.</p> + +<p>The recognition was mutual.</p> + +<p>“You here?” he exclaimed, in surprise.</p> + +<p>“So it seems,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Is it a good place?”</p> + +<p>“I like it.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s your boss?”</p> + +<p>“Myself.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say this is your own place?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll be blowed!” ejaculated Hogan, staring stupidly at Joe.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> +MR. HOGAN’S PROPOSAL</h2> + +<p>Joe enjoyed Hogan’s amazement. He felt rather proud of his rapid +progress. It was not four months since, a poor, country boy, he had +come up to New York, and fallen a prey to a designing sharper. Now, +on the other side of the continent, he was master of a business and +owner of real estate.</p> + +<p>The day has passed for such rapid progress. California is no longer +a new country, and the conditions of living closely approximate those +in the East. I am careful to say this because I don’t wish to +mislead my young readers. Success is always attainable by pluck and +persistency, but the degree is dependent on circumstances.</p> + +<p>“How have you made out?” asked Joe of his visitor.</p> + +<p>“I’ve had hard luck,” grumbled Hogan, “I went to the mines, but I +wasn’t lucky.”</p> + +<p>“Was that the case with other miners?” asked Joe, who had a shrewd +suspicion that Hogan’s ill-luck was largely the result of his +laziness and want of application.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Hogan. “Other men around me were lucky, but I wasn’t.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps your claim was a poor one.”</p> + +<p>“It was, as long as I had anything to do with it,” said Hogan. “I +sold it out for a trifle and the next day the other man found a +nugget. Wasn’t that cursed hard?” he grumbled.</p> + +<p>“You ought to have kept on. Then you would have found the nugget.”</p> + +<p>“No, I shouldn’t. I am too unlucky. If I had held on, it wouldn’t +have been there. You’ve got on well. You’re lucky.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I have no reason to complain. But I wasn’t lucky all the time. +I was robbed of every cent of money, when I met a good friend, who +bought this business for me.”</p> + +<p>“Does it pay?” asked the other eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it pays,” said Joe cautiously.</p> + +<p>“How much do you make, say, in a week?” asked Hogan, leaning his +elbows on the counter and looking up in Joe’s face.</p> + +<p>“Really, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “I don’t feel called upon to tell my +business to others.”</p> + +<p>“I thought maybe you’d tell an old friend,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>Joe could not help laughing at the man’s matchless impudence.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you have treated me exactly like a friend, Mr. Hogan,” +he said. “You certainly did all you could to prevent my coming to +California.”</p> + +<p>“There’s some mistake about that,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“You’re under a misapprehension; but I won’t go into that matter now. +Will you trust me for my supper?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joe promptly. “Sit down at that table.”</p> + +<p>The man had treated him badly, but things had turned out favorably +for Joe, and he would not let Hogan suffer from hunger, if he could +relieve him.</p> + +<p>Hogan needed no second invitation. He took a seat at a table +near-by, and ate enough for two men, but Joe could not repeat the +invitation he had given. He felt that he could not afford it.</p> + +<p>It was rather late when Hogan sat down. When he finished, he was the +only one left in the restaurant, except Joe. He sauntered up to the +desk.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got a good cook,” said Hogan, picking his teeth with a knife.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Joe. “I think so.”</p> + +<p>“You say the business pays well?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; it satisfies me.”</p> + +<p>“Are you alone? Have you no partner?”</p> + +<p>“You could do better with one. Suppose you take me into business +with you?”</p> + +<p>Joe was considerably surprised at this proposition from a man who had +swindled him.</p> + +<p>“How much capital can you furnish?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t got any money. I’m dead broke,” said Hogan, “but I can +give my services. I can wait on the table. I’ll do that, and you +can give me my board and one-third of the profits. Come, now, that’s +a good offer. What do you say?”</p> + +<p>Joe thought it best to be candid.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want any partner, Mr. Hogan,” he said; “and I may as well +tell you, I don’t think I should care to be associated with you if I +did.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to insult me?” asked Hogan, scowling.</p> + +<p>“No; but I may as well be candid.”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with me?” asked Hogan roughly.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like the way you do business,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Look here, young one, you put on too many airs just because you’re +keepin’ a one-horse restaurant,” said Hogan angrily.</p> + +<p>“If it’s a one-horse restaurant, why do you want to become my +partner?” retorted Joe coolly.</p> + +<p>“Because I’m hard up—I haven’t got a cent.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry for you; but a man needn’t be in that condition long here.”</p> + +<p>“Where do you sleep?” asked Hogan suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Here. I put a bed on the floor in one corner, and so am on hand in +the morning.”</p> + +<p>“I say,” Hogan continued insinuatingly, “won’t you let me stay here +to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Sleep here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I’d rather not, Mr. Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t a cent to pay for a lodging. If you don’t take me in, I +shall have to stay in the street all night.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve slept out at the mines, haven’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then you can do it here.”</p> + +<p>“You’re hard on a poor man,” whined Hogan. “It wouldn’t cost you +anything to let me sleep here.”</p> + +<p>“No, it wouldn’t,” said Joe; “but I prefer to choose my own company +at night.”</p> + +<p>“I may catch my death of cold,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“I hope not; but I don’t keep lodgings,” said Joe firmly.</p> + +<p>“You haven’t any feeling for an unlucky man.”</p> + +<p>“I have given you your supper, and not stinted you in any way. What +you ate would cost two dollars at my regular prices. I wasn’t called +to do it, for you never did me any service, and you are owing me +to-day fifty dollars, which you cheated me out of when I was a poor +boy. I won’t let you lodge here, but I will give you a breakfast in +the morning, if you choose to come round. Then you will be +strengthened for a day’s work, and can see what you can find to do.”</p> + +<p>Hogan saw that Joe was in earnest and walked out of the restaurant, +without a word.</p> + +<p>When Joe was about to close his doors for the night his attention was +drawn to a man who was sitting down on the ground, a few feet +distant, with his head buried between his two hands, in an attitude +expressive of despondency.</p> + +<p>Joe was warm-hearted and sympathetic, and, after a moment’s +hesitation, addressed the stranger.</p> + +<p>“Is anything the matter with you, sir?” he asked. “Don’t you feel +well?”</p> + +<p>The man addressed raised his head. He was a stout, strongly built +man, roughly dressed, but had a look which inspired confidence.</p> + +<p>“I may as well tell you, boy,” he answered, “though you can’t help +me. I’ve been a cursed fool, that’s what’s the matter.”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t mind telling me,” said Joe gently, “perhaps I can be of +service to you.”</p> + +<p>The man shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you can,” he said, “but I’ll tell you, for all that. +Yesterday I came up from the mines with two thousand dollars. I was +about a year getting it together, and to me it was a fortune. I’m a +shoemaker by occupation, and lived in a town in Massachusetts, where +I have a wife and two young children. I left them a year ago to go +to the mines. I did well, and the money I told you about would have +made us all comfortable, if I could only have got it home.”</p> + +<p>“Were you robbed of it?” asked Joe, remembering his own experience.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I was robbed of it, but not in the way you are thinking of. A +wily scoundrel induced me to enter a gambling-den, the Bella Union, +they call it. I wouldn’t play at first, but soon the fascination +seized me. I saw a man win a hundred dollars, and I thought I could +do the same, so I began, and won a little. Then I lost, and played +on to get my money back. In just an hour I was cleaned out of all I +had. Now I am penniless, and my poor family will suffer for my +folly.”</p> + +<p>He buried his face in his hands once more and, strong man as he was, +he wept aloud.</p> + +<p>“Have you had any supper, sir?” said Joe compassionately.</p> + +<p>“No; but I have no appetite.”</p> + +<p>“Have you any place to sleep?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Then I can offer you a supper and a night’s lodging. Don’t be +discouraged. In the morning we can talk the matter over, and see +what can be done.”</p> + +<p>The stranger rose and laid his hand on Joe’s arm.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know how it is,” he said, “but your words give me courage. +I believe you have saved my life. I have a revolver left and I had a +mind to blow my brains out.”</p> + +<p>“Would that have helped you or your family?”</p> + +<p>“No, boy. I was a fool to think of it. I’ll accept your offer, and +to-morrow I’ll see what I can do. You’re the best friend I’ve met +since I left home.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX<br /> +THE UNLUCKY MINER</h2> + +<p>Joe brought out some cold meat and bread and butter, and set it +before his guest.</p> + +<p>“The fire’s gone out,” he said, “or I would give you some tea. Here +is a glass of milk, if you like it.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, boy,” said his visitor. “Milk is good enough for +anybody. One thing I can say, I’ve steered clear of liquor. A +brother of mine was intemperate and that was a warning to me. I took +credit to myself for being a steady-going man, compared with many of +my acquaintances out at the mines. But it don’t do to boast. I’ve +done worse, perhaps. I’ve gambled away the provision I had made for +my poor family.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t take it too hard,” said Joe, in a tone of sympathy. “You know +how it is out here. Down to-day and up to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“It’ll take me a long time to get up to where I was,” said the other; +“but it’s my fault, and I must make the best of it.”</p> + +<p>Joe observed, with satisfaction, that his visitor was doing ample +justice to the supper spread before him. With a full stomach, he +would be likely to take more cheerful views of life and the future. +In this thought Joe proved to be correct.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t think I could eat anything,” said the miner, laying down +his knife and fork, twenty minutes later, “but I have made a hearty +supper, thanks to your kindness. Things look a little brighter to me +now. I’ve had a hard pullback, but all is not lost. I’ve got to +stay here a year or two longer, instead of going back by the next +steamer; but I must make up my mind to that. What is your name, boy?”</p> + +<p>“Joe Mason.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve been kind to me, and I won’t forget it. It doesn’t seem +likely I can return the favor, but I’ll do it if ever I can. Good +night to you.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” asked Joe, surprised, as the miner walked to +the door.</p> + +<p>“Out into the street.”</p> + +<p>“But where do you mean to pass the night?”</p> + +<p>“Where a man without money must—in the street.”</p> + +<p>“But you mustn’t do that.”</p> + +<p>“I shan’t mind it. I’ve slept out at the mines many a night.”</p> + +<p>“But won’t you find it more comfortable here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but I don’t want to intrude. You’ve given me a good supper and +that is all I can expect.”</p> + +<p>“He doesn’t seem much like Hogan,” thought Joe.</p> + +<p>“You are welcome to lodge here with me,” he said. “It will cost you +nothing and will be more comfortable for you.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know me, Joe,” said the miner. “How do you know but I may +get up in the night and rob you?”</p> + +<p>“You could, but I don’t think you will,” said Joe. “I am not at all +afraid of it. You look like an honest man.”</p> + +<p>The miner looked gratified.</p> + +<p>“You shan’t repent your confidence, Joe,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I’d rather starve than rob a good friend like you. But you mustn’t +trust everybody.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t,” said Joe. “I refused a man to-night—a man named Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“Hogan?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What does he look like?”</p> + +<p>Joe described him.</p> + +<p>“It’s the very man,” said the miner.</p> + +<p>“Do you know him, then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he was out at our diggings. Nobody liked him, or trusted him. +He was too lazy to work, but just loafed around, complaining of his +luck. One night I caught him in my tent, just going to rob me. I +warned him to leave the camp next day or I’d report him, and the boys +would have strung him up. That’s the way they treat thieves out +there.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t surprise me to hear it,” said Joe. “He robbed me of +fifty dollars in New York.”</p> + +<p>“He did? How was that?”</p> + +<p>Joe told the story.</p> + +<p>“The mean skunk!” ejaculated Watson—for this Joe found to be the +miner’s name. “It’s mean enough to rob a man, but to cheat a poor boy +out of all he has is a good deal meaner. And yet you gave him +supper?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. The man was hungry; I pitied him.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a better Christian than I am. I’d have let him go hungry.”</p> + +<p>Both Joe and the miner were weary and they soon retired, but not to +uninterrupted slumber. About midnight they were disturbed, as the +next chapter will show.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX<br /> +HOGAN MEETS A CONGENIAL SPIRIT</h2> + +<p>When Hogan left Joe’s presence he was far from feeling as grateful as +he ought for the kindness with which our hero had treated him. +Instead of feeling thankful for the bountiful supper, he was angry +because Joe had not permitted him to remain through the night. Had +he obtained this favor, he would have resented the refusal to take +him into partnership. There are some men who are always soliciting +favors, and demanding them as a right, and Hogan was one of them.</p> + +<p>Out in the street he paused a minute, undecided where to go. He had +no money, as he had truly said, or he would have been tempted to go +to a gambling-house, and risk it on a chance of making more.</p> + +<p>“Curse that boy!” he muttered, as he sauntered along in the direction +of Telegraph Hill. “Who’d have thought a green country clodhopper +would have gone up as he has, while an experienced man of the world +like me is out at the elbows and without a cent!”</p> + +<p>The more Hogan thought of this, the more indignant he became.</p> + +<p>He thrust both hands into his pantaloons pockets, and strode moodily +on.</p> + +<p>“I say it’s a cursed shame!” he muttered. “I never did have any +luck, that’s a fact. Just see how luck comes to some. With only a +dollar or two in his pocket, this Joe got trusted for a first-class +passage out here, while I had to come in the steerage. Then, again, +he meets some fool, who sets him up in business. Nobody ever +offered to set me up in business!” continued Hogan, feeling aggrieved +at Fortune for her partiality. “Nobody even offered to give me a +start in life. I have to work hard, and that’s all the good it does.”</p> + +<p>The fact was that Hogan had not done a whole day’s work for years. +But such men are very apt to deceive themselves and possibly he +imagined himself a hard-working man.</p> + +<p>“It’s disgusting to see the airs that boy puts on,” he continued to +soliloquize. “It’s nothing but luck. He can’t help getting on, with +everybody to help him. Why didn’t he let me sleep in his place +to-night? It wouldn’t have cost him a cent.”</p> + +<p>Then Hogan drifted off into calculations of how much money Joe was +making by his business. He knew the prices charged for meals and +that they afforded a large margin of profit.</p> + +<p>The more he thought of it, the more impressed he was with the extent +of Joe’s luck.</p> + +<p>“The boy must be making his fortune,” he said to himself. “Why, he +can’t help clearing from one to two hundred dollars a week—perhaps +more. It’s a money-making business, there’s no doubt of it. Why +couldn’t he take me in as partner? That would set me on my legs +again, and in time I’d be rich. I’d make him sell out, and get the +whole thing after awhile.”</p> + +<p>So Hogan persuaded himself into the conviction that Joe ought to have +accepted him as partner, though why this should be, since his only +claim rested on his successful attempt to defraud him in New York, it +would be difficult to conjecture.</p> + +<p>Sauntering slowly along, Hogan had reached the corner of Pacific +Street, then a dark and suspicious locality in the immediate +neighborhood of a number of low public houses of bad reputation. The +night was dark, for there was no moon.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he felt himself seized in a tight grip, while a low, stern +voice in his ear demanded:</p> + +<p>“Your money, and be quick about it!”</p> + +<p>Hogan was not a brave man, but this demand, in his impecunious +condition, instead of terrifying him, struck his sense of humor as an +exceedingly good joke.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got the wrong man!” he chuckled.</p> + +<p>“Stop your fooling, and hand over your money, quickly!” was the stern +rejoinder.</p> + +<p>“My dear friend,” said Hogan, “if you can find any money about me, +it’s more than I can do myself.”</p> + +<p>“Are you on the square?” demanded the other suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“Look at me, and see.”</p> + +<p>The highwayman took him at his word. Lighting a match, he surveyed +his captive.</p> + +<p>“You don’t look wealthy, that’s a fact,” he admitted. “Where are you +going?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. I haven’t got any money, nor any place to sleep.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’d better be leaving this place, or another mistake may be +made.”</p> + +<p>“Stop!” said Hogan, with a sudden thought. “Though I haven’t any +money, I can tell you where we can both find some.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Come in here, then, and come to business.”</p> + +<p>He led Hogan into a low shanty on Pacific Street, and, bidding him be +seated on a broken settee, waited for particulars.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI<br /> +READY FOR MISCHIEF</h2> + +<p>Though Hogan was a scamp in the superlative degree, the burly ruffian +who seated himself by his side looked the character much better. He +was not a man to beat about the bush. As he expressed it, he wanted +to come to business at once.</p> + +<p>“What’s your game, pard?” he demanded. “Out with it.”</p> + +<p>Hogan’s plan, as the reader has already surmised, was to break into +Joe’s restaurant and seize whatever money he might be found to have +on the premises. He recommended it earnestly, for two reasons. +First, a share of the money would be welcome; and, secondly, he would +be gratified to revenge himself upon the boy, whom he disliked +because he had injured him.</p> + +<p>Jack Rafferty listened in silence.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about it,” he said. “There’s a risk.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see any risk. We two ought to be a match for a boy.”</p> + +<p>“Of course we are. If we wasn’t I’d go hang myself up for a milksop. +Are you sure there’s no one else with him?”</p> + +<p>“Not a soul.”</p> + +<p>“That’s well, so far; but we might be seen from the outside.”</p> + +<p>“We can keep watch.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think the boy’s got much money about him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he’s making money hand over fist. He’s one of those mean chaps +that never spend a cent, but lay it all by. Bah!”</p> + +<p>So Hogan expressed his contempt for Joe’s frugality.</p> + +<p>“All the better for us. How much might there be now, do you think?”</p> + +<p>“Five hundred dollars, likely.”</p> + +<p>“That’s worth risking something for,” said Jack thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“We’ll share alike?” inquired Hogan anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Depends on how much you help about gettin’ the money,” said Jack +carelessly.</p> + +<p>Hogan, who was not very courageous, did not dare push the matter +though he would have liked a more definite assurance. However, he +had another motive besides the love of money, and was glad to have +the cooperation of Rafferty, though secretly afraid of his ruffianly +accomplice.</p> + +<p>It was agreed to wait till midnight. Till then both men threw +themselves down and slept.</p> + +<p>As the clock indicated midnight, Rafferty shook Hogan roughly.</p> + +<p>The latter sat up and gazed, in terrified bewilderment, at Jack, who +was leaning over him, forgetting for the moment the compact into +which he had entered.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>“It’s time we were about our business,” growled Jack.</p> + +<p>“It’s struck twelve.”</p> + +<p>“All right!” responded Hogan, who began to feel nervous, now that the +crisis was at hand.</p> + +<p>“Don’t sit rubbing your eyes, man, but get up.”</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you got a drop of something to brace me up?” asked Hogan +nervously.</p> + +<p>“What are you scared of, pard?” asked Rafferty contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” answered Hogan, “but I feel dry.”</p> + +<p>“All right. A drop of something will warm us both up.”</p> + +<p>Jack went behind the counter, and, selecting a bottle of rot-gut +whisky, poured out a stiff glassful apiece.</p> + +<p>“Drink it, pard,” he said.</p> + +<p>Hogan did so, nothing loath.</p> + +<p>“That’s the right sort,” he said, smacking his lips. “It’s warming +to the stomach.”</p> + +<p>So it was and a frequent indulgence in the vile liquid would probably +have burned his stomach and unfitted it for service. But the +momentary effect was stimulating, and inspired Hogan with a kind of +Dutch courage, which raised him in the opinion of his burly +confederate.</p> + +<p>“Push ahead, pard,” said he. “I’m on hand.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk,” said Rafferty approvingly. “If we’re +lucky, we’ll be richer before morning.”</p> + +<p>Through the dark streets, unlighted and murky, the two confederates +made their stealthy way, and in five minutes stood in front of Joe’s +restaurant.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII<br /> +CHECKMATED</h2> + +<p>Everything looked favorable for their plans. Of course, the +restaurant was perfectly dark, and the street was quite deserted.</p> + +<p>“How shall we get in?” asked Hogan of his more experienced accomplice.</p> + +<p>“No trouble—through the winder.”</p> + +<p>Rafferty had served an apprenticeship at the burglar’s trade, and was +not long in opening the front window. He had no light and could not +see that Joe had a companion. If he had discovered this, he would +have been more cautious.</p> + +<p>“Go in and get the money,” said he to Hogan.</p> + +<p>He thought it possible that Hogan might object, but the latter had a +reason for consenting. He thought he might obtain for himself the +lion’s share of the plunder, while, as to risk, there would be no one +but Joe to cope with, and Hogan knew that in physical strength he +must be more than a match for a boy of sixteen.</p> + +<p>“All right!” said Hogan. “You stay at the window and give the alarm +if we are seen.”</p> + +<p>Rafferty was prompted by a suspicion of Hogan’s good faith in the +proposal he made to him. His ready compliance lulled this suspicion, +and led him to reflect that, perhaps, he could do the work better +himself.</p> + +<p>“No,” said he. “I’ll go in and you keep watch at the winder.”</p> + +<p>“I’m willing to go in,” said Hogan, fearing that he would not get his +fair share of the plunder.</p> + +<p>“You stay where you are, pard!” said Rafferty, in a tone of command. +“I’ll manage this thing myself.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you say,” said Hogan, slightly disappointed.</p> + +<p>Rafferty clambered into the room, making as little noise as possible. +He stood still a moment, to accustom his eyes to the darkness. His +plan was to discover where Joe lay, wake him up, and force him, by +threats of instant death as the penalty for non-compliance, to +deliver up all the money he had in the restaurant.</p> + +<p>Now, it happened that Joe and his guest slept in opposite corners of +the room. Rafferty discovered Joe, but was entirely ignorant of the +presence of another person in the apartment.</p> + +<p>Joe waked on being rudely shaken.</p> + +<p>“Who is it?” he muttered drowsily.</p> + +<p>“Never mind who it is!” growled Jack in his ear. “It’s a man that’ll +kill you if you don’t give up all the money you’ve got about you!”</p> + +<p>Joe was fully awake now, and realized the situation. He felt +thankful that he was not alone, and it instantly flashed upon him +that Watson had a revolver. But Watson was asleep. To obtain time +to form a plan, he parleyed a little.</p> + +<p>“You want my money?” he asked, appearing to be confused.</p> + +<p>“Yes—and at once! Refuse, and I will kill you!”</p> + +<p>I won’t pretend to deny that Joe’s heart beat a little quicker than +its wont. He was thinking busily. How could he attract Watson’s +attention?</p> + +<p>“It’s pretty hard, but I suppose I must,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk.”</p> + +<p>“Let me get up and I’ll get it.”</p> + +<p>Joe spoke so naturally that Rafferty suspected nothing. He permitted +our hero to rise, supposing that he was going for the money he +demanded.</p> + +<p>Joe knew exactly where Watson lay and went over to him. He knelt +down and drew out the revolver from beneath his head, at the same +time pushing him, in the hope of arousing him. The push was +effectual. Watson was a man whose experience at the mines had taught +him to rouse at once. He just heard Joe say:</p> + +<p>“Hush!”</p> + +<p>“What are you so long about?” demanded Rafferty suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got a revolver,” said Joe unexpectedly; “and, if you don’t +leave the room, I’ll fire!”</p> + +<p>With an oath, Rafferty, who was no coward, sprang upon Joe, and it +would have gone hard with him but for Watson. The latter was now +broad awake. He seized Rafferty by the collar, and, dashing him +backward upon the floor, threw himself upon him.</p> + +<p>“Two can play at that game!” said he. “Light the candle, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Help, pard!” called Rafferty.</p> + +<p>But Hogan, on whom he called, suspecting how matters stood, was in +full flight.</p> + +<p>The candle was lighted, and in the struggling ruffian Joe recognized +the man who, three months before, had robbed him of his little all.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII<br /> +NOT WHOLLY BLACK</h2> + +<p>“I know this man, Mr. Watson,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Who is he?”</p> + +<p>“He is the same man who robbed me of my money one night about three +months ago—the one I told you of.”</p> + +<p>For the first time, Rafferty recognized Joe.</p> + +<p>“There wasn’t enough to make a fuss about,” he said. “There was only +two dollars and a half.”</p> + +<p>“It was all I had.”</p> + +<p>“Let me up!” said Rafferty, renewing his struggles.</p> + +<p>“Joe, have you got a rope?” asked Watson.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Bring it here, then. I can’t hold this man all night.”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do with me?” demanded Rafferty uneasily.</p> + +<p>“Tie you hand and foot till to-morrow morning and then deliver you +over to the authorities.”</p> + +<p>“No, you won’t!”</p> + +<p>He made a renewed struggle, but Watson was a man with muscles of +iron, and the attempt was unsuccessful.</p> + +<p>It was not without considerable difficulty, however, that the +midnight intruder was secured. When, at length, he was bound hand +and foot, Watson withdrew to a little distance. Joe and he looked at +Rafferty, and each felt that he had seldom seen a more brutal face.</p> + +<p>“Well,” growled Rafferty, “I hope you are satisfied?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” returned Watson. “When you are delivered into the hands +of the authorities we shall be satisfied.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, for an hour’s freedom!” muttered Jack Rafferty, expressing his +thoughts aloud.</p> + +<p>“What use would you make of it?” asked Watson, in a tone of curiosity.</p> + +<p>“I’d kill the man that led me into this trap!”</p> + +<p>Watson and Joe were surprised.</p> + +<p>“Was there such a man. Didn’t you come here alone?”</p> + +<p>“No; there was a man got me to come. Curse him, He told me I would +only find the boy here!”</p> + +<p>“What has become of him?”</p> + +<p>“He ran away, I reckon, instead of standing by me.”</p> + +<p>“Where was he?”</p> + +<p>“At the winder.”</p> + +<p>“Could it have been Hogan?” thought Joe.</p> + +<p>“I think I know the man,” said our hero. “I’ll describe the man I +mean and you can tell me if it was he.”</p> + +<p>He described Hogan as well as he could.</p> + +<p>“That’s the man,” said Rafferty. “I wouldn’t peach if he hadn’t +served me such a mean trick. What’s his name?”</p> + +<p>“His name is Hogan. He came over on the same steamer with me, after +robbing me of fifty dollars in New York. He has been at the mines, +but didn’t make out well. This very afternoon I gave him supper—all +he could eat—and charged him nothing for it. He repays me by +planning a robbery.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a mean skunk,” said Watson bluntly.</p> + +<p>“You’re right, stranger,” said Rafferty. “I’m a scamp myself, but +I’ll be blowed if I’d turn on a man that fed me when I was hungry.”</p> + +<p>The tones were gruff but the man was evidently sincere.</p> + +<p>“You’re better than you look,” said Watson, surprised to hear such a +sentiment from a man of such ruffianly appearance.</p> + +<p>Jack Rafferty laughed shortly.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t used to compliments,” he said, “and I expect I’m bad enough, +but I ain’t all bad. I won’t turn on my pal, unless he does it +first, and I ain’t mean enough to rob a man that’s done me a good +turn.”</p> + +<p>“No, you ain’t all bad,” said Watson. “It’s a pity you won’t make up +your mind to earn an honest living.”</p> + +<p>“Too late for that, I reckon. What do you think they’ll do with me?”</p> + +<p>In those days punishments were summary and severe. Watson knew it +and Joe had seen something of it. Our hero began to feel compassion +for the foiled burglar. He whispered in Watson’s ear. Watson +hesitated, but finally yielded.</p> + +<p>“Stranger,” said he, “the boy wants me to let you go.”</p> + +<p>“Does he?” inquired Rafferty, in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Yes. He is afraid it will go hard with you if we give you up.”</p> + +<p>“Likely it will,” muttered Rafferty, watching Watson’s face eagerly, +to see whether he favored Joe’s proposal.</p> + +<p>“Suppose we let you go—will you promise not to make another attempt +upon this place?”</p> + +<p>“What do you take me for? I’m not such a mean cuss as that.”</p> + +<p>“One thing more—you won’t kill this man that brought you here?”</p> + +<p>“If I knowed it wasn’t a trap he led me into. He told me there was +only the boy.”</p> + +<p>“He thought so. I don’t belong here. The boy let me sleep here out +of kindness. Hogan knew nothing of this. I didn’t come till after +he had left.”</p> + +<p>“That’s different,” said Rafferty; “but he shouldn’t have gone back +on me.”</p> + +<p>“He is a coward, probably.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you’re right,” said Rafferty contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“You promise, then?”</p> + +<p>“Not to kill him? Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then we’ll let you go.”</p> + +<p>Watson unloosed the bonds that confined the prisoner. Rafferty +raised himself to his full height and stretched his limbs.</p> + +<p>“There—I feel better,” he said. “You tied the rope pretty tight.”</p> + +<p>“I found it necessary,” said Watson, laughing. “Now, Joe, if you +will open the door, this gentleman will pass out.”</p> + +<p>Rafferty turned to Joe, as he was about to leave the restaurant.</p> + +<p>“Boy,” said he, “I won’t forget this. I ain’t much of a friend to +boast of, but I’m your friend. You’ve saved me from prison, and +worse, it’s likely; and, if you need help any time, send for me. If +I had that money I took from you I’d pay it back.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t need it,” said Joe. “I’ve been lucky, and am doing well. I +hope you’ll make up your mind to turn over a new leaf. If you do, +and are ever hard up for a meal, come to me, and you shall have it +without money and without price.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, boy,” said Rafferty. “I’ll remember it.”</p> + +<p>He strode out of the restaurant, and disappeared in the darkness.</p> + +<p>“Human nature’s a curious thing, Joe,” said Watson. “Who would have +expected to find any redeeming quality in such a man as that?”</p> + +<p>“I would sooner trust him than Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“So would I. Hogan is a mean scoundrel, who is not so much of a +ruffian as this man only because he is too much of a coward to be.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad we let him go,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I am not sure whether it was best, but I knew we should have to be +awake all night if we didn’t. He could have loosened the knots after +awhile. He won’t trouble you any more.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I felt as sure about Hogan,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Hogan is a coward. I advise you to keep a revolver constantly on +hand. He won’t dare to break in by himself.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The next morning, after breakfast, Watson prepared to go out in +search of work.</p> + +<p>“I must begin at the bottom of the ladder once more,” he said to Joe. +“It’s my own fault, and I won’t complain. But what a fool I have +been! I might have gone home by the next steamer if I hadn’t gambled +away all my hard earnings.”</p> + +<p>“What sort of work shall you try to get?”</p> + +<p>“Anything—I have no right to be particular. Anything that will pay +my expenses and give me a chance to lay by something for my family at +home.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Watson,” said Joe suddenly, “I’ve been thinking of something +that may suit you. Since I came to San Francisco I have never gone +outside. I would like to go to the mines.”</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t make as much as you do here.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not; but I have laid by some money and I would like to see +something of the country. Will you carry on the restaurant for me +for three months, if I give you your board and half of the profits?”</p> + +<p>“Will I? I should think myself very lucky to get the chance.”</p> + +<p>“Then you shall have the chance.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know that I can be trusted?” asked Watson.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t known you long,” said Joe, “but I feel confidence in your +honesty.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you’ll repent your confidence. When do you want to +go?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll stay here a few days, till you get used to the business, then I +will start.”</p> + +<p>“I was lucky to fall in with you,” said Watson. “I didn’t want to go +back to the mines and tell the boys what a fool I have been. I begin +to think there’s a chance for me yet.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV<br /> +MR. BICKFORD, OF PUMPKIN HOLLOW</h2> + +<p>It may be thought that Joe was rash in deciding to leave his business +in the hands of a man whose acquaintance he had made but twelve hours +previous. But in the early history of California friendships ripened +fast. There was more confidence between man and man, and I am +assured that even now, though the State is more settled and as far +advanced in civilization and refinement as any of her sister States +on the Atlantic coast, the people are bound together by more friendly +ties, and exhibit less of cold caution than at the East. At all +events, Joe never dreamed of distrusting his new acquaintance. A +common peril, successfully overcome, had doubtless something to do in +strengthening the bond between them.</p> + +<p>Joe went round to his friend Mr. Morgan and announced his intention.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you will make money by your new plan, Joe,” said +Morgan.</p> + +<p>“I don’t expect to,” said Joe, “but I want to see the mines. If I +don’t succeed, I can come back to my business here.”</p> + +<p>“That is true. I should like very well to go, too.”</p> + +<p>“Why won’t you, Mr. Morgan?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot leave my business as readily as you can. Do you feel +confidence in this man whom you are leaving in charge?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. He has been unlucky, but I am sure he is honest.”</p> + +<p>“He will have considerable money belonging to you by the time you +return—that is, if you stay any length of time.”</p> + +<p>“I want to speak to you about that, Mr. Morgan. I have directed him +to make a statement to you once a month, and put in your hands what +money comes to me—if it won’t trouble you too much.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all, Joe. I shall be glad to be of service to you.”</p> + +<p>“If you meet with any good investment for the money while I am away, +I should like to have you act for me as you would for yourself.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Joe.”</p> + +<p>Joe learned from Watson that the latter had been mining on the Yuba +River, not far from the town of Marysville. He decided to go there, +although he might have found mines nearer the city. The next +question was, How should he get there, and should he go alone?</p> + +<p>About this time a long, lank Yankee walked into the restaurant, one +day, and, seating himself at a table, began to inspect the bill of +fare which Joe used to write up every morning. He looked +disappointed.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you find what you want?” inquired Joe.</p> + +<p>“No,” said the visitor. “I say, this is a queer country. I’ve been +hankerin’ arter a good dish of baked beans for a week, and ain’t +found any.”</p> + +<p>“We sometimes have them,” said Joe. “Come here at one o’clock, and +you shall be accommodated.”</p> + +<p>The stranger brightened up.</p> + +<p>“That’s the talk,” said he. “I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>“Have you just come out here?” asked Joe curiously.</p> + +<p>“A week ago.”</p> + +<p>“Are you a Southerner?” asked Joe demurely.</p> + +<p>“No, I guess not!” said the Yankee, with emphasis.</p> + +<p>“I was raised in Pumpkin Hollow, State of Maine. I was twenty-one +last first of April, but I ain’t no April fool, I tell you. Dad and +me carried on the farm till I began to hear tell of Californy. I’d +got about three hundred dollars saved up and I took it to come out +here.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose you’ve come out to make your fortune?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir-ee, that’s just what I come for.”</p> + +<p>“How have you succeeded so far?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve succeeded in spendin’ all my money, except fifty dollars. I +say, it costs a sight to eat and drink out here. I can’t afford to +take but one meal a day, and then I eat like all possessed.”</p> + +<p>“I should think you would, Mr.——”</p> + +<p>“Joshua Bickford—that’s my name when I’m to hum.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Bickford, what are your plans?”</p> + +<p>“I want to go out to the mines and dig gold. I guess I can dig as +well as anybody. I’ve had experience in diggin’ ever since I was ten +year old.”</p> + +<p>“Not digging gold, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“Diggin’ potatoes, and sich.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to the mines myself, Mr. Bickford. What do you say to +going along with me?”</p> + +<p>“I’m on hand. You know the way, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“We can find it, I have no doubt. I have never been there, but my +friend Mr. Watson is an experienced miner.”</p> + +<p>“How much gold did you dig?” asked Joshua bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Two thousand dollars,” answered Watson, not thinking it necessary to +add that he had parted with the money since at the gaming-table.</p> + +<p>“Two thousand dollars?” exclaimed Joshua, duly impressed. “That’s a +heap of money!”</p> + +<p>“Yes; it’s a pretty good pile.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to get that much. I know what I’d do.”</p> + +<p>“What would you do, Mr. Bickford?”</p> + +<p>“I’d go home and marry Sukey Smith, by gosh!”</p> + +<p>“Then I hope you’ll get the money, for Miss Smith’s sake.”</p> + +<p>“There’s a feller hangin’ round her,” said Joshua, “kinder +slick-lookin’, with his hair parted in the middle; he tends in the +dry-goods store; but, if I come home with two thousand dollars, +she’ll have me, I guess. Why, with two thousand dollars I can buy +the farm next to dad’s, with a house with five rooms into it, and a +good-sized barn. I guess Sukey wouldn’t say no to me then, but would +change her name to Bickford mighty sudden.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you will succeed in your plans, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Seems to me you’re kinder young to be out here,” said Bickford, +turning his attention to Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I am not quite old enough to think of marrying.”</p> + +<p>“Have you got money enough to get out to the mines?” asked Joshua +cautiously.</p> + +<p>“I think I can raise enough,” said Joe, smiling.</p> + +<p>“My young friend is the owner of this restaurant,” said Watson.</p> + +<p>“You don’t say! I thought you hired him.”</p> + +<p>“No. On the contrary, I am in his employ. I have agreed to run the +restaurant for him while he is at the mines.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say!” exclaimed Bickford, surveying our hero with +curiosity. “Have you made much money in this eating-house?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve done pretty well,” said Joe modestly. “I own the building and +the two adjoining lots.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say! How old be you?”</p> + +<p>“Sixteen.”</p> + +<p>“You must be all-fired smart!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about that, Mr. Bickford. I’ve been lucky and fallen +in with good friends.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I guess Californy’s the place to make money. I ain’t made any +yet, but I mean to. There wasn’t no chance to get ahead in Pumpkin +Hollow. I was workin’ for eight dollars a month and board.”</p> + +<p>“It would be a great while before you could save up money to buy a +farm out of that, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so.”</p> + +<p>“My experience was something like yours. Before I came out here I +was working on a farm.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!”</p> + +<p>“And I didn’t begin to get as much money as you. I was bound out to +a farmer for my board and clothes. The board was fair but the +clothes were few and poor.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say!”</p> + +<p>“I hope you will be as lucky as I have been.”</p> + +<p>“How much are you worth now?” asked Joshua curiously.</p> + +<p>“From one to two thousand dollars, I expect.”</p> + +<p>“Sho! I never did! How long have you been out here?”</p> + +<p>“Three months.”</p> + +<p>“Je-rusalem! That’s better than stayin’ to hum.”</p> + +<p>“I think so.”</p> + +<p>By this time Mr. Bickford had completed his breakfast and in an +anxious tone he inquired:</p> + +<p>“What’s the damage?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I won’t charge you anything, as you are going to be my traveling +companion,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You’re a gentleman, by gosh!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford, in +unrestrained delight.</p> + +<p>“Come in at one o’clock and you shall have some of your favorite +beans and nothing to pay. Can you start for the mines to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I’ve got nothin’ to prepare.”</p> + +<p>“Take your meals here till we go.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m in luck,” said Bickford. “Victuals cost awful out here +and I haven’t had as much as I wanted to eat since I got here.”</p> + +<p>“Consider yourself my guest,” said Joe, “and eat all you want to.”</p> + +<p>It may be remarked that Mr. Bickford availed himself of our young +hero’s invitation, and during the next twenty-four hours stowed away +enough provisions to last an ordinary man for half a week.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXV<br /> +THE MAN FROM PIKE COUNTY</h2> + +<p>Four days later Joe and his Yankee friend, mounted on mustangs, were +riding through a cañon a hundred miles from San Francisco. It was +late in the afternoon, and the tall trees shaded the path on which +they were traveling. The air was unusually chilly and after the heat +of midday they felt it.</p> + +<p>“I don’t feel like campin’ out to-night,” said Bickford. “It’s too +cool.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think we shall find any hotels about here,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Don’t look like it. I’d like to be back in Pumpkin Hollow just for +to-night. How fur is it to the mines, do you calc’late?”</p> + +<p>“We are probably about half-way. We ought to reach the Yuba River +inside of a week.”</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Bickford’s mustang deliberately stopped and began to survey +the scenery calmly.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, you pesky critter?” demanded Joshua.</p> + +<p>The mustang turned his head and glanced composedly at the burden he +was carrying.</p> + +<p>“G’lang!” said Joshua, and he brought down his whip on the flanks of +the animal.</p> + +<p>It is not in mustang nature to submit to such an outrage without +expressing proper resentment. The animal threw up its hind legs, +lowering its head at the same time, and Joshua Bickford, describing a +sudden somersault, found himself sitting down on the ground a few +feet in front of his horse, not seriously injured, but considerably +bewildered.</p> + +<p>“By gosh!” he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to dismount, Mr. Bickford?” +asked Joe, his eyes twinkling with merriment.</p> + +<p>“Because I didn’t know it myself,” said Joshua, rising and rubbing +his jarred frame.</p> + +<p>The mustang did not offer to run away, but stood calmly surveying him +as if it had had nothing to do with his rider’s sudden dismounting.</p> + +<p>“Darn the critter! He looks just as if nothing had happened,” said +Joshua. “He served me a mean trick.”</p> + +<p>“It was a gentle hint that he was tired,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Darn the beast! I don’t like his hints,” said Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>He prepared to mount the animal, but the latter rose on its hind legs +and very clearly intimated that the proposal was not agreeable.</p> + +<p>“What’s got into the critter?” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“He wants to rest. Suppose we rest here for half-an-hour, while we +loosen check-rein and let the horses graze.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you say.”</p> + +<p>Joshua’s steed appeared pleased with the success of his little hint +and lost no time in availing himself of the freedom accorded him.</p> + +<p>“I wish I was safe at the mines,” said Joshua. “What would dad say +if he knowed where I was, right out here in the wilderness? It looks +as we might be the only human critters in the world. There ain’t no +house in sight, nor any signs of man’s ever bein’ here.”</p> + +<p>“So we can fancy how Adam felt when he was set down in Paradise,” +said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I guess he felt kinder lonely.”</p> + +<p>“Probably he did, till Eve came. He had Eve, and I have you for +company.”</p> + +<p>“I guess Eve wasn’t much like me,” said Joshua, with a grin.</p> + +<p>He was lying at full length on the greensward, looking awkward and +ungainly enough, but his countenance, homely as it was, looked honest +and trustworthy, and Joe preferred his company to that of many +possessed of more outward polish. He could not help smiling at Mr. +Bickford’s remark.</p> + +<p>“Probably Eve was not as robust as you are,” he replied, “I doubt if +she were as tall, either. But as to loneliness, it is better to be +lonely than to have some company.”</p> + +<p>“There ain’t no suspicious characters round, are there?” inquired +Joshua anxiously.</p> + +<p>“We are liable to meet them—men who have been unsuccessful at the +mines and who have become desperate in consequence, and others who +came out here to prey upon others. That’s what I hear.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think we shall meet any of the critters?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I hope not. They wouldn’t find it very profitable to attack us. We +haven’t much money.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t,” said Joshua. “I couldn’t have got to the mines if you +hadn’t lent me a few dollars.”</p> + +<p>“You have your animal. You can sell him for something.”</p> + +<p>“If he agrees to carry me so far,” said Mr. Bickford, gazing +doubtfully at the mustang, who was evidently enjoying his evening +repast.</p> + +<p>“Oh, a hearty meal will make him good-natured. That is the way it +acts with boys and men, and animals are not so very different.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you’re right,” said Joshua. “When I wanted to get a favor +out of dad, I always used to wait till the old man had got his belly +full. That made him kinder good-natured.”</p> + +<p>“I see you understand human nature, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I guess I do,” said Joshua complacently. “Great Jehoshaphat, who’s +that?”</p> + +<p>Joe raised his head and saw riding toward them a man who might have +sat for the photograph of a bandit without any alteration in his +countenance or apparel. He wore a red flannel shirt, pants of rough +cloth, a Mexican sombrero, had a bowie-knife stuck in his girdle, and +displayed a revolver rather ostentatiously. His hair, which he wore +long, was coarse and black, and he had a fierce mustache.</p> + +<p>“Is he a robber?” asked Joshua uneasily.</p> + +<p>“Even if he is,” said Joe, “we are two to one. I dare say he’s all +right, but keep your weapon ready.”</p> + +<p>Though Joe was but a boy and Bickford a full-grown man, from the +outset he had assumed the command of the party, and issued directions +which his older companion followed implicitly. The explanation is +that Joe had a mind of his own, and decided promptly what was best to +be done, while his long-limbed associate was duller witted and +undecided.</p> + +<p>Joe and Joshua maintained their sitting position till the stranger +was within a rod or two, when he hailed them.</p> + +<p>“How are ye, strangers?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Pretty comfortable,” said Joshua, reassured by his words. “How fare +you?”</p> + +<p>“You’re a Yank, ain’t you?” said the newcomer, disregarding Joshua’s +question.</p> + +<p>“I reckon so. Where might you hail from?”</p> + +<p>“I’m from Pike County, Missouri,” was the answer. “You’ve heard of +Pike, hain’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know as I have,” said Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>The stranger frowned.</p> + +<p>“You must have been born in the woods not to have heard of Pike +County,” he said. “The smartest fighters come from Pike. I kin whip +my weight in wildcats, am a match for a dozen Indians to onst, and +can tackle a lion without flinchin’.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!” said Joshua, considerably impressed.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you stop and rest with us?” said Joe politely.</p> + +<p>“I reckon I will,” said the Pike man, getting off his beast. “You +don’t happen to have a bottle of whisky with you, strangers?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>The newcomer looked disappointed.</p> + +<p>“I wish you had,” said he. “I feel as dry as a tinder-box. Where +might you be travelin’?”</p> + +<p>“We are bound for the mines on the Yuba River.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a long way off.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it’s four or five days’ ride.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been there, and I don’t like it. It’s too hard work for a +gentleman.”</p> + +<p>This was uttered in such a magnificent tone of disdain that Joe was +rather amused at the fellow. In his red shirt and coarse breeches, +and brown, not overclean skin, he certainly didn’t look much like a +gentleman in the conventional sense of that term.</p> + +<p>“It’s all well enough to be a gentleman if you’ve got money to fall +back on,” remarked Joshua sensibly.</p> + +<p>“Is that personal?” demanded the Pike County man, frowning and half +rising.</p> + +<p>“It’s personal to me,” said Joshua quietly.</p> + +<p>“I accept the apology,” said the newcomer, sinking back upon the turf.</p> + +<p>“I hain’t apologized, as I’m aware,” said Joshua, who was no craven.</p> + +<p>“You’d better not rile me, stranger,” said the Pike man fiercely. +“You don’t know me, you don’t. I’m a rip-tail roarer, I am. I +always kill a man who insults me.”</p> + +<p>“So do we,” said Joe quietly.</p> + +<p>The Pike County man looked at Joe in some surprise. He had expected +to frighten the boy with his bluster, but it didn’t seem to produce +the effect intended.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVI<br /> +A DESPERADO</h2> + +<p>Mr. Bickford also seemed a little surprised at Joe’s coolness. +Though not a coward in the face of danger, he had been somewhat +impressed by the fierce aspect of the man from Pike County, and +really looked upon him as a reckless daredevil who was afraid of +nothing. Joe judged him more truly. He decided that a man who +boasted so loudly was a sham. If he had talked less, he would have +feared him more.</p> + +<p>After his last bloodthirsty declaration the man from Pike County +temporarily subsided.</p> + +<p>He drew out from his pocket a greasy pack of cards, and after +skilfully shuffling them inquired:</p> + +<p>“What do you say, strangers, to a little game to pass away the time?”</p> + +<p>“I never played keards in my life,” said Joshua Bickford.</p> + +<p>“Where was you raised?” demanded the Pike man contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“Pumpkin Hollow, State o’ Maine,” said Joshua. “Dad’s an orthodox +deacon. He never let any of us play keards. I don’t know one from +t’other.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll learn you,” said the Pike man condescendingly. “Suppose we +have a game of poker?”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t that a gambling’ game?” inquired Joshua.</p> + +<p>“We always play for something,” said the Pike man. “It’s dern +foolishness playin’ for nothing. Shall we have a game?”</p> + +<p>He looked at Joe as he spoke.</p> + +<p>“I don’t care to play,” said our hero. “I don’t know much about +cards, and I don’t want to play for money.”</p> + +<p>“That’s dern foolishness,” said the stranger, whose object it was to +clean out his new friends, being an expert gambler.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is,” said Joe, “but I only speak for myself. Mr. +Bickford may feel differently.”</p> + +<p>“Will you take a hand, Bickford?” asked the Pike man, thinking it +possible that Joshua might have some money of which he could relieve +him.</p> + +<p>“You kin show me how to play if you want to,” said Joshua, “but I +won’t gamble any.”</p> + +<p>The Pike man put up his pack of cards in disgust.</p> + +<p>“Derned if I ever met sich fellers!” he said. “You’re Methodists, +ain’t you?”</p> + +<p>“We generally decline doing what we don’t want to do,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Look here, boy,” blustered the Pike man, “I reckon you don’t know +me. I’m from Pike County, Missouri, I am. I’m a rip-tail roarer, I +am. I kin whip my weight in wildcats.”</p> + +<p>“You told us that afore,” said Joshua placidly.</p> + +<p>“Derned if I don’t mean it, too!” exclaimed the Pike County man, with +a fierce frown. “Do you know how I served a man last week?”</p> + +<p>“No. Tell us, won’t you?” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“We was ridin’ together over in Alameda County. We’d met +permiscuous, like we’ve met to-day. I was tellin’ him how four b’ars +attacked me once, and I fit ’em all single-handed, when he laughed, +and said he reckoned I’d been drinkin’ and saw double. If he’d +knowed me better, he wouldn’t have done it.”</p> + +<p>“What did you do?” asked Joshua, interested.</p> + +<p>Joe, who was satisfied that the fellow was romancing, did not exhibit +any interest.</p> + +<p>“What did I do?” echoed the Pike County man fiercely. “I told him he +didn’t know the man he insulted. I told him I was from Pike County, +Missouri, and that I was a rip-tail roarer.”</p> + +<p>“And could whip your weight in wildcats,” suggested Joe.</p> + +<p>The Pike man appeared irritated.</p> + +<p>“Don’t interrupt me, boy,” he said. “It ain’t healthy.”</p> + +<p>“After you’d made them remarks what did you do?” inquired Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I told him he’d insulted me and must fight. I always do that.”</p> + +<p>“Did he fight?”</p> + +<p>“He had to.”</p> + +<p>“How did it come out?”</p> + +<p>“I shot him through the heart,” said the man from Pike County +fiercely. “His bones are bleaching in the valley where he fell.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>The Pike County man looked from one to the other to see what effect +had been produced by his blood-curdling narration. Joshua looked +rather perplexed, as if he didn’t quite know what to think, but Joe +seemed tranquil.</p> + +<p>“I think you said it happened last week,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“If I said so, it is so,” said the Pike man, who in truth did not +remember what time he had mentioned.</p> + +<p>“I don’t question that. I was only wondering how his bones could +begin to bleach so soon after he was killed.”</p> + +<p>“Just so,” said Joshua, to whom this difficulty had not presented +itself before.</p> + +<p>“Do you doubt my word, stranger?” exclaimed the Pike man, putting his +hand to his side and fingering his knife.</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” said Joe. “But I wanted to understand how it was.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t give no explanations,” said the Pike man haughtily, “and I +allow no man to doubt my word.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, my friend,” said Joshua, “ain’t you rather cantankerous?”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” demanded the other suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“No offense,” said Joshua, “but you take a feller up so we don’t know +exactly how to talk to you.”</p> + +<p>“I take no insults,” said the Pike man. “Insults must be washed out +in blood.”</p> + +<p>“Soap-suds is better than blood for washin’ purposes,” said Joshua +practically. “Seems to me you’re spoilin’ for a fight all the time.”</p> + +<p>“I allow I am,” said the Pike man, who regarded this as a compliment. +“I was brought up on fightin’. When I was a boy I could whip any boy +in school.”</p> + +<p>“That’s why they called you a rip-tail roarer, I guess,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“You’re right, stranger,” said the Pike man complacently.</p> + +<p>“What did you do when the teacher give you a lickin’?” asked Mr. +Bickford.</p> + +<p>“What did I do?” yelled the Pike County man, with a demoniac frown.</p> + +<p>“Exactly so.”</p> + +<p>“I shot him!” said the Pike man briefly.</p> + +<p>“Sho! How many teachers did you shoot when you was a boy?”</p> + +<p>“Only one. The rest heard of it and never dared touch me.”</p> + +<p>“So you could play hookey and cut up all you wanted to?”</p> + +<p>“You’re right, stranger.”</p> + +<p>“They didn’t manage that way at Pumpkin Hollow,” said Mr. Bickford. +“Boys ain’t quite so handy with shootin’-irons. When the master +flogged us we had to stand it.”</p> + +<p>“Were you afraid of him?” asked the Pike man disdainfully.</p> + +<p>“Well, I was,” Joshua admitted. “He was a big man with arms just +like flails, and the way he used to pound us was a caution.”</p> + +<p>“I’d have shot him in his tracks,” said the Pike man fiercely.</p> + +<p>“You’d have got a wallopin’ fust, I reckon,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to insult me?” demanded the Pike man.</p> + +<p>“Oh, lay down, and don’t be so cantankerous,” said Joshua. “You’re +allus thinkin’ of bein’ insulted.”</p> + +<p>“We may as well be going,” said Joe, who was thoroughly disgusted +with their new companion.</p> + +<p>“Just as you say, Joe,” said Joshua. “Here, you pesky critter, come +and let me mount you.”</p> + +<p>The mustang realized Joe’s prediction. After his hearty supper he +seemed to be quite tractable and permitted Mr. Bickford to mount him +without opposition.</p> + +<p>Joe also mounted his horse.</p> + +<p>“I’ll ride along with you if you’ve no objections,” said the Pike +man. “We kin camp together to-night.”</p> + +<p>So saying, he too mounted the sorry-looking steed which he had +recently dismounted.</p> + +<p>Joe was not hypocrite enough to say that he was welcome. He thought +it best to be candid.</p> + +<p>“If you are quite convinced that neither of us wishes to insult you,” +he said quietly, “you can join us. If you are bent on quarreling, +you had better ride on by yourself.”</p> + +<p>The Pike man frowned fiercely.</p> + +<p>“Boy,” he said, “I have shot a man for less than that.”</p> + +<p>“I carry a revolver,” said Joe quietly, “but I shan’t use it unless +it is necessary. If you are so easily offended, you’d better ride on +alone.”</p> + +<p>This the Pike man did not care to do.</p> + +<p>“You’re a strange boy,” he said, “but I reckon you’re on the square. +I’ll go along with you.”</p> + +<p>“I would rather you’d leave us,” thought Joe, but he merely said: +“Very well.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVII<br /> +TWO TRAGIC STORIES</h2> + +<p>They rode on for about an hour and a half. Joshua’s steed, placated +by his good supper, behaved very well. Their ride was still through +the cañon. Presently it became too dark for them to proceed.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t we gone about fur enough for to-night?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps we have,” answered Joe.</p> + +<p>“Here’s a good place to camp,” suggested the man from Pike County, +pointing to a small grove of trees to the right.</p> + +<p>“Very well; let us dismount,” said Joe. “I think we can pass the +night comfortably.”</p> + +<p>They dismounted, and tied their beasts together under one of the +trees. They then threw themselves down on a patch of greensward +near-by.</p> + +<p>“I’m gettin’ hungry,” said Joshua. “Ain’t you, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Bickford. We may as well take supper.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford produced a supper of cold, meat and bread, and placed it +between Joe and himself.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you share our supper?” said Joe to their companion.</p> + +<p>“Thank ye, stranger, I don’t mind if I do,” answered the Pike man, +with considerable alacrity. “My fodder give out this mornin’, and I +hain’t found any place to stock up.”</p> + +<p>He displayed such an appetite that Mr. Bickford regarded him with +anxiety. They had no more than sufficient for themselves, and the +prospect of such a boarder was truly alarming.</p> + +<p>“You have a healthy appetite, my friend,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I generally have,” said the Pike man. “You’d orter have some +whisky, strangers, to wash it down with.”</p> + +<p>“I’d rather have a good cup of coffee sweetened with ’lasses, sech as +marm makes to hum,” remarked Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>“Coffee is for children, whisky for strong men,” said the Roarer.</p> + +<p>“I prefer the coffee,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Are you temperance fellers?” inquired the Pike man contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“I am,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“And I, too,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Bah!” said the other disdainfully; “I’d as soon drink skim-milk. +Good whisky or brandy for me.”</p> + +<p>“I wish we was to your restaurant, Joe,” said Joshua. “I kinder +hanker after some good baked beans. Baked beans and brown bread are +scrumptious. Ever eat ’em, stranger?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the Pike man; “none of your Yankee truck for me.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you don’t know what’s good,” said Mr. Bickford. “What’s +your favorite vittles?”</p> + +<p>“Bacon and hominy, hoe-cakes and whisky.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Joshua, “it depends on the way a feller is brung up. I +go for baked beans and brown bread, and punkin pie—that’s +goloptious. Ever eat punkin pie, stranger?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Like it?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t lay much on it.”</p> + +<p>Supper was over and other subjects succeeded. The Pike County man +became social.</p> + +<p>“Strangers,” said he, “did you ever hear of the affair I had with +Jack Scott?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joshua. “Spin it off, will you?”</p> + +<p>“Jack and me used to be a heap together. We went huntin’ together, +camped out for weeks together, and was like two brothers. One day we +was ridin’ out, when a deer started up fifty rods ahead. We both +raised our guns and shot at him. There was only one bullet into him, +and I knowed that was mine.”</p> + +<p>“How did you know it?” inquired Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you get curious, stranger. I knowed it, and that was enough. +But Jack said it was his. ‘It’s my deer,’ he said, ‘for you missed +your shot.’ ‘Look here, Jack,’ said I, ‘you’re mistaken. You missed +it. Don’t you think I know my own bullet?’ ‘No, I don’t,’ said he. +‘Jack,’ said I calmly, ‘don’t talk that way. It’s dangerous.’ ‘Do +you think I’m afraid of you?’ he said, turning on me. ‘Jack,’ said +I, ‘don’t provoke me. I can whip my weight in wildcats.’ ‘You can’t +whip me,’ said he. That was too much for me to stand. I’m the +Rip-tail Roarer from Pike County, Missouri, and no man can insult me +and live. ‘Jack,’ said I, ‘we’ve been friends, but you’ve insulted +me, and it must be washed out in blood.’ Then I up with my we’pon and +shot him through the head.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I was sorry to do it, for he was my friend,” said the Pike County +man, “but he disputed my word, and the man that does that may as well +make his will if he’s got any property to leave.”</p> + +<p>Here the speaker looked to see what effect was produced upon his +listeners. Joe seemed indifferent. He saw through the fellow, and +did not credit a word he said. Joshua had been more credulous at +first, but he, too, began to understand the man from Pike County. +The idea occurred to him to pay him back in his own coin.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t the relatives make any fuss about it?” he inquired. “Didn’t +they arrest you for murder?”</p> + +<p>“They didn’t dare to,” said the Pike man proudly. “They knew me. +They knew I could whip my weight in wildcats and wouldn’t let no man +insult me.”</p> + +<p>“Did you leave the corpse lyin’ out under the trees?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I rode over to Jack’s brother and told him what I had done, and +where he’d find the body. He went and buried it.”</p> + +<p>“What about the deer?”</p> + +<p>“What deer?”</p> + +<p>“The deer you killed and your friend claimed?”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said the Pike man, with sudden recollection, “I told Jack’s +brother he might have it.”</p> + +<p>“Now, that was kinder handsome, considerin’ you’d killed your friend +on account of it.”</p> + +<p>“There ain’t nothin’ mean about me,” said the man from Pike County.</p> + +<p>“I see there ain’t,” said Mr. Bickford dryly. “It reminds me of a +little incident in my own life. I’ll tell you about it, if you +hain’t any objection.”</p> + +<p>“Go ahead. It’s your deal.”</p> + +<p>“You see, the summer I was eighteen, my cousin worked for dad hayin’ +time. He was a little older’n me, and he had a powerful appetite, +Bill had. If it wasn’t for that, he’d ’a’ been a nice feller enough, +but at the table he always wanted more than his share of wittles. +Now, that ain’t fair, no ways—think it is, stranger?”</p> + +<p>“No! Go ahead with your story.”</p> + +<p>“One day we sat down to dinner. Marm had made some apple-dumplin’ +that day, and ’twas good, you bet. Well, I see Bill a-eyin’ the +dumplin’ as he shoveled in the meat and pertaters, and I knowed he +meant to get more’n his share. Now, I’m fond of dumplin’ as well as +Bill, and I didn’t like it. Well, we was both helped and went to +eatin’. When I was half through I got up to pour out some water. +When I cum back to the table Bill had put away his plate, which he +had cleaned off, and was eatin’ my dumplin’.”</p> + +<p>“What did you say?” inquired the gentleman from Pike, interested.</p> + +<p>“I said: ‘Bill, you’re my cousin, but you’ve gone too fur.’ He +laffed, and we went into the field together to mow. He was just +startin’ on his swath when I cum behind him and cut his head clean +off with my scythe.”</p> + +<p>Joe had difficulty in suppressing his laughter, but Mr. Bickford +looked perfectly serious.</p> + +<p>“Why, that was butchery!” exclaimed the Pike man, startled. “Cut off +his head with a scythe?”</p> + +<p>“I hated to, bein’ as he was my cousin,” said Joshua, “but I couldn’t +have him cum any of them tricks on me. I don’t see as it’s any wuss +than shootin’ a man.”</p> + +<p>“What did you do with his body?” asked Joe, commanding his voice.</p> + +<p>“Bein’ as ’twas warm weather, I thought I’d better bury him at once.”</p> + +<p>“Were you arrested?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and tried for murder, but my lawyer proved that I was crazy +when I did it, and so I got off.”</p> + +<p>“Do such things often happen at the North?” asked the Pike County man.</p> + +<p>“Not so often as out here and down South, I guess,” said Joshua. +“It’s harder to get off. Sometimes a man gets hanged up North for +handlin’ his gun too careless.”</p> + +<p>“Did you ever kill anybody else?” asked the Pike man, eying Joshua +rather uneasily.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Mr. Bickford. “I shot one man in the leg and another in +the arm, but that warn’t anything serious.”</p> + +<p>It was hard to disbelieve Joshua, he spoke with such apparent +frankness and sincerity. The man from Pike County was evidently +puzzled, and told no more stories of his own prowess. Conversation, +died away, and presently all three were asleep.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVIII<br /> +THE EVENTS OF A NIGHT</h2> + +<p>The Pike County man was the first to fall asleep. Joe and Mr. +Bickford lay about a rod distant from him. When their new comrade’s +regular breathing, assured Joe that he was asleep, he said:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bickford, what do you think of this man who has joined us?”</p> + +<p>“I think he’s the biggest liar I ever set eyes on,” said Joshua +bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Then you don’t believe his stories?”</p> + +<p>“No—do you?”</p> + +<p>“I believe them as much as that yarn of yours about your Cousin +Bill,” returned Joe, laughing.</p> + +<p>“I wanted to give him as good as he sent. I didn’t want him to do +all the lyin’.”</p> + +<p>“And you a deacon’s son!” exclaimed Joe, in comic expostulation.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what the old man would have said if he’d heard me, or +Cousin Bill, either.”</p> + +<p>“Then one part is true—you have a Cousin Bill?”</p> + +<p>“That isn’t the only part that’s true; he did help me and dad hayin’.”</p> + +<p>“But his head is still safe on his shoulders?”</p> + +<p>“I hope so.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think we can find as much truth in the story of our friend +over yonder.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I. If there was a prize offered for tall lyin’ I guess he’d +stand a good chance to get it.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Joshua, fire-eater as he is, I suspect that he is a +coward.”</p> + +<p>“You do?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I have a mind to put him to the test.”</p> + +<p>“How will you do it?”</p> + +<p>“One day an old hunter came into my restaurant, and kept coming for a +week. He was once taken prisoner by the Indians, and remained in +their hands for three months. He taught me the Indian war-whoop, and +out of curiosity I practised it till I can do it pretty well.”</p> + +<p>“What’s your plan?”</p> + +<p>“To have you fire off your gun so as to wake him up. Then I will +give a loud war-whoop and see how it affects the gentleman from Pike +County.”</p> + +<p>“He may shoot us before he finds out the deception.”</p> + +<p>“It will be well first to remove his revolver to make all safe. I +wish you could give the war-whoop, too. It would make a louder +noise.”</p> + +<p>“How do you do it?”</p> + +<p>Joe explained.</p> + +<p>“I guess I can do it. You start it, and I’ll j’in in, just as I used +to do in singin’ at meetin’. I never could steer through a tune +straight by myself, but when the choir got to goin’, I helped ’em all +I could.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you can do it. Now let us make ready.”</p> + +<p>The Pike County man’s revolver was removed while he was unconsciously +sleeping. Then Joshua and our hero ensconced themselves behind +trees, and the Yankee fired his gun.</p> + +<p>The Pike man started up, still half asleep and wholly bewildered, +when within a rod of him he heard the dreadful war-whoop. Then +another more discordant voice took up the fearful cry. Joshua did +very well considering that it was his first attempt.</p> + +<p>Then the man from Pike County sprang to his feet. If it had been +daylight, his face would have been seen to wear a pale and scared +expression. It did not appear to occur to him to make a stand +against the savage foes who he felt convinced were near at hand. He +stood not on the order of going, but went at once. He quickly +unloosed his beast, sprang upon his back, and galloped away without +apparently giving a thought to the companions with whom he had camped +out.</p> + +<p>When he was out of hearing Joe and Bickford shouted with laughter.</p> + +<p>“You see I was right,” said Joe. “The man’s a coward.”</p> + +<p>“He seemed in a hurry to get away,” said Joshua dryly. “He’s the +biggest humbug out.”</p> + +<p>“I thought so as soon as he began to brag so much.”</p> + +<p>“I believed his yarns at first,” admitted Joshua. “I thought he was +rather a dangerous fellow to travel with.”</p> + +<p>“He looked like a desperado, certainly,” said Joe, “but appearances +are deceitful. It’s all swagger and no real courage.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what shall we do now, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Lie down again and go to sleep.”</p> + +<p>“The man’s gone off without his revolver.”</p> + +<p>“He’ll be back for it within a day or two. We shall be sure to fall +in with him again. I shan’t lose my sleep worrying about him.”</p> + +<p>The two threw themselves once more on the ground, and were soon fast +asleep.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Joe proved to be correct in his prediction concerning the +reappearance of their terrified companion.</p> + +<p>The next morning, when they were sitting at breakfast—that is, +sitting under a tree with their repast spread out on a paper between +them—the man from Pike County rode up. He looked haggard, as well +he might, not having ventured to sleep for fear of the Indians, and +his horse seemed weary and dragged out.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been?” asked Mr. Bickford innocently.</p> + +<p>“Chasin’ the Indians,” said the Rip-tail Roarer, swinging himself +from his saddle.</p> + +<p>“Sho! Be there any Indians about here?”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you hear them last night?” inquired the man from Pike.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Nor you?” turning to Joe.</p> + +<p>“I heard nothing of any Indians,” replied Joe truthfully.</p> + +<p>“Then all I can say is, strangers, that you sleep uncommon sound.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing wakes me up,” said Bickford. “What about them Indians? Did +you railly see any?”</p> + +<p>“I rather think I did,” said the man from Pike. “It couldn’t have +been much after midnight when I was aroused by their war-whoop. +Starting up, I saw twenty of the red devils riding through the cañon.”</p> + +<p>“Were you afraid?”</p> + +<p>“Afraid!” exclaimed the man from Pike contemptuously. “The Rip-tail +Roarer knows not fear. I can whip my weight in wildcats——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know you can,” interrupted Joshua. “You told us so +yesterday.”</p> + +<p>The man from Pike seemed rather annoyed at the interruption, but as +Mr. Bickford appeared to credit his statement he had no excuse for +quarreling.</p> + +<p>He proceeded.</p> + +<p>“Instantly I sprung to the back of my steed and gave them chase.”</p> + +<p>“Did they see you?”</p> + +<p>“They did.”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t they turn upon you? You said there were twenty of them.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” repeated the Pike man boastfully. “They were afraid. They +recognized me as the Rip-tail Roarer. They knew that I had sent more +than fifty Indians to the happy hunting-grounds, and alone as I was +they fled.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!”</p> + +<p>“Did you kill any of them?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“When I was some distance on my way I found I had left my revolver +behind. Did you find it, stranger?”</p> + +<p>“There it is,” said Joshua, who had replaced it on the ground close +to where the Pike man had slept.</p> + +<p>He took it with satisfaction and replaced it in his girdle.</p> + +<p>“Then you didn’t kill any?”</p> + +<p>“No, but I drove them away. They won’t trouble you any more.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a comfort,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Now, strangers, if you’ve got any breakfast to spare, I think I +could eat some.”</p> + +<p>“Set up, old man,” said Mr. Bickford, with his mouth full.</p> + +<p>The man from Pike did full justice to the meal. Then he asked his +two companions, as a favor, not to start for two hours, during which +he lay down and rested.</p> + +<p>The three kept together that day, but did not accomplish as much +distance as usual, chiefly because of the condition of their +companion’s horse.</p> + +<p>At night they camped out again. In the morning an unpleasant +surprise awaited them. Their companion had disappeared, taking with +him Joshua’s horse and leaving instead his own sorry nag. That was +not all. He had carried off their bag of provisions, and morning +found them destitute of food, with a hearty appetite and many miles +away, as they judged, from any settlement.</p> + +<p>“The mean skunk!” said Joshua. “He’s cleaned us out. What shall we +do?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe seriously.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIX<br /> +JOHN CHINAMAN</h2> + +<p>The two friends felt themselves to be in a serious strait. The +exchange of horses was annoying, but it would only lengthen their +journey a little. The loss of their whole stock of provisions could +not so readily be made up.</p> + +<p>“I feel holler,” said Joshua. “I never could do much before +breakfast. I wish I’d eat more supper. I would have done it, only I +was afraid, by the way that skunk pitched into ’em, we wouldn’t have +enough to last.”</p> + +<p>“You only saved them for him, it seems,” said Joe. “He has certainly +made a poor return for our kindness.”</p> + +<p>“If I could only wring his neck, I wouldn’t feel quite so hungry,” +said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Or cut his head off with a scythe,” suggested Joe, smiling faintly.</p> + +<p>“Danged if I wouldn’t do it,” said Mr. Bickford, hunger making him +bloodthirsty.</p> + +<p>“We may overtake him, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“You may, Joe, but I can’t. He’s left me his horse, which is clean +tuckered out, and never was any great shakes to begin with. I don’t +believe I can get ten miles out of him from now till sunset.”</p> + +<p>“We must keep together, no matter how slow we go. It won’t do for us +to be parted.”</p> + +<p>“We shall starve together likely enough,” said Joshua mournfully.</p> + +<p>“I’ve heard that the French eat horse-flesh. If it comes to the +worst, we can kill your horse and try a horse-steak.”</p> + +<p>“It’s all he’s fit for, and he ain’t fit for that. We’ll move on for +a couple of hours and see if somethin’ won’t turn up. I tell you, +Joe, I’d give all the money I’ve got for some of marm’s johnny-cakes. +It makes me feel hungrier whenever I think of ’em.”</p> + +<p>“I sympathize with you, Joshua,” said Joe. “We may as well be movin’ +on, as you suggest. We may come to some cabin, or party of +travelers.”</p> + +<p>So they mounted their beasts and started. Joe went ahead, for his +animal was much better than the sorry nag which Mr. Bickford +bestrode. The latter walked along with an air of dejection, as if +life were a burden to him.</p> + +<p>“If I had this critter at home, Joe, I’ll tell you what I’d do with +him,” said Mr. Bickford, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“Well, what would you do with him?”</p> + +<p>“I’d sell him to a sexton. He’d be a first-class animal to go to +funerals. No danger of his runnin’ away with the hearse.”</p> + +<p>“You are not so hungry but you can joke, Joshua.”</p> + +<p>“It’s no joke,” returned Mr. Bickford. “If we don’t raise a supply +of provisions soon, I shall have to attend my own funeral. My mind +keeps running on them johnny-cakes.”</p> + +<p>They rode on rather soberly, for the exercise and the fresh morning +air increased their appetites, which were keen when they started.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford no longer felt like joking, and Joe at every step looked +anxiously around him, in the hope of espying relief.</p> + +<p>On a sudden, Mr. Bickford rose in his stirrups and exclaimed in a +tone of excitement:</p> + +<p>“I see a cabin!”</p> + +<p>“Where?”</p> + +<p>“Yonder,” said the Yankee, pointing to a one-story shanty, perhaps a +quarter of a mile away.</p> + +<p>“Is it inhabited, I wonder?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. Let us go and see.”</p> + +<p>The two spurred their horses, and at length reached the rude building +which had inspired them with hope. The door was open, but no one was +visible.</p> + +<p>Joshua was off his horse in a twinkling and peered in.</p> + +<p>“Hooray!” he shouted in rejoicing accents. “Breakfast’s ready.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I mean that I’ve found something to eat.”</p> + +<p>On a rude table was an earthen platter full of boiled rice and a +stale loaf beside it.</p> + +<p>“Pitch in, Joe,” said Joshua. “I’m as hungry as a wolf.”</p> + +<p>“This food belongs to somebody. I suppose we have no right to it.”</p> + +<p>“Right be hanged. A starving man has a right to eat whatever he can +find.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose it belongs to a fire-eater, or a man from Pike County?”</p> + +<p>“We’ll eat first and fight afterward.”</p> + +<p>Joe did not feel like arguing the matter. There was an advocate +within him which forcibly emphasized Joshua’s arguments, and he +joined in the banquet.</p> + +<p>“This bread is dry as a chip,” said Mr. Bickford. “But no matter. I +never thought dry bread would taste so good. I always thought rice +was mean vittles, but it goes to the right place just now.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder if any one will have to go hungry on our account?” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I hope not, but I can’t help it,” returned Mr. Bickford. +“Necessity’s the fust law of nature, Joe. I feel twice as strong as +I did twenty minutes ago.”</p> + +<p>“There’s nothing like a full stomach, Joshua. I wonder to whom we +are indebted for this repast?”</p> + +<p>Joe was not long in having his query answered. An exclamation, as of +one startled, called the attention of the two friends to the doorway, +where, with a terrified face, stood a Chinaman, his broad face +indicating alarm.</p> + +<p>“It’s a heathen Chinee, by gosh!” exclaimed Joshua.</p> + +<p>Even at that time Chinese immigrants had begun to arrive in San +Francisco, and the sight was not wholly new either to Joshua or Joe.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, John,” said our young hero pleasantly.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, heathen,” said Mr. Bickford. “We thought we’d come +round and make you a mornin’ call. Is your family well?”</p> + +<p>The Chinaman was reassured by the friendly tone of his visitors, and +ventured to step in. He at once saw that the food which he had +prepared for himself had disappeared.</p> + +<p>“Melican man eat John’s dinner,” he remarked in a tone of +disappointment.</p> + +<p>“So we have, John,” said Mr. Bickford. “The fact is, we were +hungry—hadn’t had any breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose Melican man eat—he pay,” said the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” said Joe; “we are willing to pay. How much do +you want?”</p> + +<p>The Chinaman named his price, which was not unreasonable, and it was +cheerfully paid.</p> + +<p>“Have you got some more bread and rice, John?” asked Mr. Bickford. +“We’d like to buy some and take it along.”</p> + +<p>They succeeded in purchasing a small supply—enough with economy to +last a day or two. This was felt as a decided relief. In two days +they might fall in with another party of miners or come across a +settlement.</p> + +<p>They ascertained on inquiry that the Chinaman and another of his +nationality had come out like themselves to search for gold. They +had a claim at a short distance from which they had obtained a small +supply of gold. The cabin they had found in its present condition. +It had been erected and deserted the previous year by a party of +white miners, who were not so easily satisfied as the two Chinamen.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Joshua, after they had started on their way, “that’s the +first time I ever dined at a Chinee hotel.”</p> + +<p>“We were lucky in coming across it,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“The poor fellow looked frightened when he saw us gobblin’ up his +provisions,” said Mr. Bickford, laughing at the recollection.</p> + +<p>“But we left him pretty well satisfied. We didn’t treat him as the +gentleman from Pike treated us.”</p> + +<p>“No—I wouldn’t be so mean as that darned skunk. It makes me mad +whenever I look at this consumptive hoss he’s left behind.”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t make much out of that horse trade, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t, but I’ll get even with him some time if we ever meet +again.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know where he was bound?”</p> + +<p>“No—he didn’t say.”</p> + +<p>“I dare say it’ll all come right in the end. At any rate, we shan’t +starve for the next forty-eight hours.”</p> + +<p>So in better spirits the two companions kept on their way.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXX<br /> +ON THE YUBA RIVER</h2> + +<p>On the following day Joe and his comrade fell in with a party of men +who, like themselves, were on their way to the Yuba River. They were +permitted to join them, and made an arrangement for a share of the +provisions. This removed all anxiety and insured their reaching +their destination without further adventure.</p> + +<p>The banks of the Yuba presented a busy and picturesque appearance. +On the banks was a line of men roughly clad, earnestly engaged in +scooping out gravel and pouring it into a rough cradle, called a +rocker. This was rocked from side to side until the particles of +gold, if there were any, settled at the bottom and were picked out +and gathered into bags. At the present time there are improved +methods of separating gold from the earth, but the rocker is still +employed by Chinese miners.</p> + +<p>In the background were tents and rude cabins, and there was the +unfailing accessory of a large mining-camp, the gambling tent, where +the banker, like a wily spider, lay in wait to appropriate the +hard-earned dust of the successful miner.</p> + +<p>Joe and his friend took their station a few rods from the river and +gazed at the scene before them.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe, “the time has come when we are to try +our luck.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joshua. “Looks curious, doesn’t it? If I didn’t know, +I’d think them chaps fools, stoopin’ over there and siftin’ mud. It +’minds me of when I was a boy and used to make dirt pies.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose we take a day and look round a little. Then we can find out +about how things are done, and work to better advantage.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you say, Joe, I must go to work soon, for I hain’t nary red.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll stand by you, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a fust-rate feller, Joe. You seem to know just what to do.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t so long since I was a greenhorn and allowed myself to be +taken in by Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve cut your eye-teeth since then.”</p> + +<p>“I have had some experience of the world, but I may get taken in +again.”</p> + +<p>Joe and his friend found the miners social and very ready to give +them information.</p> + +<p>“How much do I make a day?” said one in answer to a question from +Joshua. “Well, it varies. Sometimes I make ten dollars, and from +that all the way up to twenty-five. Once I found a piece worth fifty +dollars. I was in luck then.”</p> + +<p>“I should say you were,” said Mr. Bickford. “The idea of findin’ +fifty dollars in the river. It looks kind of strange, don’t it, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Are any larger pieces ever found here?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“I have seen larger nuggets on exhibition in San Francisco, worth +several hundred dollars. Are any such to be found here?”</p> + +<p>“Generally they come from the dry diggings. We don’t often find such +specimens in the river washings. But these are more reliable.”</p> + +<p>“Can a man save money here?”</p> + +<p>“If he’ll be careful of what he gets. But much of our dust goes +there.”</p> + +<p>He pointed, as he spoke, to a small cabin, used as a store and +gambling den at one and the same time. There in the evening the +miners collected, and by faro, poker, or monte managed to lose all +that they had washed out during the day.</p> + +<p>“That’s the curse of our mining settlement,” said their informant. +“But for the temptations which the gaming-house offers, many whom you +see working here would now be on their way home with a comfortable +provision for their families. I never go there, but then I am in the +minority.”</p> + +<p>“What did you used to do when you was to hum?” inquired Joshua, who +was by nature curious and had no scruples about gratifying his +curiosity.</p> + +<p>“I used to keep school winters. In the spring and summer I assisted +my father on his farm down in Maine.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say you’re from Maine? Why, I’m from Maine myself,” +remarked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Indeed! Whereabouts in Maine did you live?”</p> + +<p>“Pumpkin Hollow.”</p> + +<p>“I kept school in Pumpkin Hollow one winter.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say so? What is your name?” inquired Joshua earnestly.</p> + +<p>“John Kellogg.”</p> + +<p>“I thought so!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford, excited.</p> + +<p>“Why, I used to go to school to you, Mr. Kellogg.”</p> + +<p>“It is nine years ago, and you must have changed so much that I +cannot call you to mind.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you remember a tall, slab-sided youngster of thirteen, that +used to stick pins into your chair for you to set on?”</p> + +<p>Kellogg smiled.</p> + +<p>“Surely you are not Joshua Bickford?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am. I am that same identical chap.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad to see you, Mr. Bickford,” said his old school-teacher, +grasping Joshua’s hand cordially.</p> + +<p>“It seems kinder queer for you to call me Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“I wasn’t so ceremonious in the old times,” said Kellogg.</p> + +<p>“No, I guess not. You’d say, ‘Come here, Joshua,’ and you’d jerk me +out of my seat by the collar. ‘Did you stick that pin in my chair?’ +That’s the way you used to talk. And then you’d give me an all-fired +lickin’.”</p> + +<p>Overcome by the mirthful recollections, Joshua burst into an +explosive fit of laughter, in which presently he was joined by Joe +and his old teacher.</p> + +<p>“I hope you’ve forgiven me for those whippings, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“They were jest what I needed, Mr. Kellogg. I was a lazy young +rascal, as full of mischief as a nut is of meat. You tanned my hide +well.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to be any the worse for it now.”</p> + +<p>“I guess not. I’m pretty tough. I say, Mr. Kellogg,” continued +Joshua, with a grin, “you’d find it a harder job to give me a lickin’ +now than you did then.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t undertake it now. I am afraid you could handle me.”</p> + +<p>“It seems cur’us, don’t it, Joe?” said Joshua. “When Mr. Kellogg +used to haul me round the schoolroom, it didn’t seem as if I could +ever be a match for him.”</p> + +<p>“We change with the passing years,” said Kellogg, in a moralizing +tone, which recalled his former vocation. “Now you are a man, and we +meet here on the other side of the continent, on the banks of the +Yuba River. I hope we are destined to be successful.”</p> + +<p>“I hope so, too,” said Joshua, “for I’m reg’larly cleaned out.”</p> + +<p>“If I can help you any in the way of information, I shall be glad to +do so.”</p> + +<p>Joe and Bickford took him at his word and made many inquiries, +eliciting important information.</p> + +<p>The next day they took their places farther down the river and +commenced work.</p> + +<p>Their inexperience at first put them at a disadvantage. They were +awkward and unskilful, as might have been expected. Still, at the +end of the first day each had made about five dollars.</p> + +<p>“That’s something,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“If I could have made five dollars in one day in Pumpkin Hollow,” +said Mr. Bickford, “I would have felt like a rich man. Here it costs +a feller so much to live that he don’t think much of it.”</p> + +<p>“We shall improve as we go along. Wait till to-morrow night.”</p> + +<p>The second day brought each about twelve dollars, and Joshua felt +elated.</p> + +<p>“I’m gettin’ the hang of it,” said he. “As soon as I’ve paid up what +I owe you, I’ll begin to lay by somethin’.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want you to pay me till you are worth five hundred dollars, +Mr. Bickford. The sum is small, and I don’t need it.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Joe. You’re a good friend. I’ll stick by you if you +ever want help.”</p> + +<p>In the evening the camp presented a lively appearance.</p> + +<p>When it was chilly, logs would be brought from the woods, and a +bright fire would be lighted, around which the miners would sit and +talk of home and their personal adventures and experiences. One +evening Mr. Bickford and Joe were returning from a walk, when, as +they approached the camp-fire, they heard a voice that sounded +familiar, and caught these words:</p> + +<p>“I’m from Pike County, Missouri, gentlemen. They call me the +Rip-tail Roarer. I can whip my weight in wildcats.”</p> + +<p>“By gosh!” exclaimed Joshua, “if it ain’t that skunk from Pike. I +mean to tackle him.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXI<br /> +JUDGE LYNCH PRONOUNCES SENTENCE</h2> + +<p>The gentleman from Pike was sitting on a log, surrounded by miners, +to whom he was relating his marvelous exploits. The number of +Indians, grizzly bears, and enemies generally, which, according to +his account, he had overcome and made way with, was simply enormous. +Hercules was nothing to him. It can hardly be said that his +listeners credited his stories. They had seen enough of life to be +pretty good judges of human nature, and regarded them as romances +which served to while away the time.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me, my friend,” said Kellogg, who, it will be +remembered, had been a schoolmaster, “that you are a modern Hercules.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s he?” demanded the Pike man suspiciously, for he had never +heard of the gentleman referred to.</p> + +<p>“He was a great hero of antiquity,” exclaimed Kellogg, “who did many +wonderful feats.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right, then,” said the Pike man. “If you’re friendly, +then I’m friendly. But if any man insults me he’ll find he’s tackled +the wrong man. I can whip my weight in wildcats——”</p> + +<p>Here he was subjected to an interruption.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford could no longer suppress his indignation when at a +little distance he saw his mustang, which this treacherous braggart +had robbed him of, quietly feeding.</p> + +<p>“Look here, old Rip-tail, or whatever you call yourself, I’ve got an +account to settle with you.”</p> + +<p>The Pike man started as he heard Mr. Bickford’s voice, which, being +of a peculiar nasal character, he instantly recognized. He felt that +the meeting was an awkward one, and he would willingly have avoided +it. He decided to bluff Joshua off if possible, and, as the best way +of doing it, to continue his game of brag.</p> + +<p>“Who dares to speak to me thus?” he demanded with a heavy frown, +looking in the opposite direction. “Who insults the Rip-tail Roarer?”</p> + +<p>“Look this way if you want to see him,” said Joshua. “Put on your +specs if your eyes ain’t good.”</p> + +<p>The man from Pike could no longer evade looking at his late comrade. +He pretended not to know him.</p> + +<p>“Stranger,” said he, with one hand on the handle of his knife, “are +you tired of life?”</p> + +<p>“I am neither tired of life nor afraid of you,” said Joshua manfully.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know me, or——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do. You’re the man that says he can whip his weight in +wildcats. I don’t believe you dare to face your weight in tame cats.”</p> + +<p>“Sdeath!” roared the bully. “Do you want to die on the spot?”</p> + +<p>“Not particularly, old Rip-tail. Don’t talk sech nonsense. I’ll +trouble you to tell me why you stole my horse on the way out here.”</p> + +<p>“Let me get at him,” said the Pike man in a terrible voice, but not +offering to get up from the log.</p> + +<p>“Nobody henders your gettin’ at me,” said Mr. Bickford composedly. +“But that ain’t answerin’ my question.”</p> + +<p>“If I didn’t respect them two gentlemen too much, I’d shoot you where +you stand,” said the Pike man.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got a shootin’-iron myself, old Rip-tail, and I’m goin’ to use +it if necessary.”</p> + +<p>“What have you to say in answer to this man’s charge?” asked one of +the miners, a large man who was looked upon as the leader of the +company. “He charges you with taking his horse.”</p> + +<p>“He lies!” said the man from Pike.</p> + +<p>“Be keerful, old Rip-tail,” said Mr. Bickford in a warning tone. “I +don’t take sass any more than you do.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t steal your horse.”</p> + +<p>“No, you didn’t exactly steal it, but you took it without leave and +left your own bag of bones in his place. But that wasn’t so bad as +stealin’ all our provisions and leavin’ us without a bite, out in the +wilderness. That’s what I call tarnation mean.”</p> + +<p>“What have you to say to these charges?” asked the mining leader +gravely.</p> + +<p>“Say? I say that man is mistaken. I never saw him before in my +life.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s cheeky,” said Joshua, aghast at the man’s impudence. +“Why, I know you as well as if we’d been to school together. You are +the Rip-tail Roarer. You are from Pike County, Missouri, you are. +You can whip your weight in wildcats. That’s he, gentlemen. I leave +it to you.”</p> + +<p>In giving the description, Joshua imitated the boastful accents of +his old comrade with such success that the assembled miners laughed +and applauded.</p> + +<p>“That’s he! You’ve got him!” they cried.</p> + +<p>“Just hear that, old Rip-tail,” said Mr. Bickford. “You see these +gentlemen here believe me and they don’t believe you.”</p> + +<p>“There’s a man in this here country that looks like me,” said the +Pike man, with a lame excuse. “You’ve met him, likely.”</p> + +<p>“That won’t go down, old Rip-tail. There ain’t but one man can whip +his weight in wildcats and tell the all-firedest yarns out. That’s +you, and there ain’t no gettin’ round it.”</p> + +<p>“This is a plot, gentlemen,” said the man from Pike, glancing +uneasily at the faces around him, in which he read disbelief of his +statements. “My word is as good as his.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe it is,” said Mr. Bickford. “I’ll call another witness. Joe, +jest tell our friends here what you know about the gentleman from +Pike. If I’m lyin’, say so, and I’ll subside and never say another +word about it.”</p> + +<p>“All that my friend Bickford says is perfectly true,” said Joe +modestly. “This man partook of our hospitality and then repaid us by +going off early one morning when we were still asleep, carrying off +all our provisions and exchanging his own worn-out horse for my +friend’s mustang, which was a much better animal.”</p> + +<p>The man from Pike had not at first seen Joe. His countenance fell +when he saw how Mr. Bickford’s case was strengthened, and for the +moment he could not think of a word to say.</p> + +<p>“You are sure this is the man, Joe?” asked, the leader of the miners.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will swear to it. He is not a man whom it is easy to +mistake.”</p> + +<p>“I believe you. Gentlemen,” turning to the miners who were sitting +or standing about him, “do you believe this stranger or our two +friends?”</p> + +<p>The reply was emphatic, and the man from Pike saw that he was +condemned.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen,” he said, rising, “you are mistaken, and I am the victim +of a plot. It isn’t pleasant to stay where I am suspected, and I’ll +bid you good evening.”</p> + +<p>“Not so fast!” said the leader, putting his hand heavily on his +shoulder. “You deserve to be punished, and you shall be. Friends, +what shall we do with him?”</p> + +<p>“Kill him! String him up!” shouted some.</p> + +<p>The Rip-tail Roarer’s swarthy face grew pale as he heard these +ominous words. He knew something of the wild, stern justice of those +days. He knew that more than one for an offense like his had +expiated his crime with his life.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me,” said the leader, “that the man he injured should +fix the penalty. Say you so?”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye!” shouted the miners.</p> + +<p>“Will you two,” turning to Joe and Bickford, “decide what shall be +done with this man? Shall we string him up?”</p> + +<p>The Pike man’s nerve gave way.</p> + +<p>He flung himself on his knees before Joshua and cried:</p> + +<p>“Mercy! mercy! Don’t let them hang me!”</p> + +<p>Joshua was not hard-hearted. He consulted with Joe and then said:</p> + +<p>“I don’t want the critter’s life. If there was any wildcats round, +I’d like to see him tackle his weight in ’em, as he says he can. As +there isn’t, let him be tied on the old nag he put off on me, with +his head to the horse’s tail, supplied with one day’s provisions, and +then turned loose!”</p> + +<p>This sentence was received with loud applause and laughter.</p> + +<p>The horse was still in camp and was at once brought out. The man +from Pike was securely tied on as directed, and then the poor beast +was belabored with whips till he started off at the top of his speed, +which his old owner, on account of his reversed position, was unable +to regulate. He was followed by shouts and jeers from the miners, +who enjoyed this act of retributive justice.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bickford, you are avenged,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“So I am, Joe. I’m glad I’ve got my hoss back; but I can’t help +pityin’ poor old Rip-tail, after all. I don’t believe he ever killed +a wildcat in his life.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXII<br /> +TAKING ACCOUNT OF STOCK</h2> + +<p>Three months passed. They were not eventful. The days were spent in +steady and monotonous work; the nights were passed around the +camp-fire, telling and hearing stories and talking of home. Most of +their companions gambled and drank, but Mr. Bickford and Joe kept +clear of these pitfalls.</p> + +<p>“Come, man, drink with me,” more than once one of his comrades said +to Joshua.</p> + +<p>“No, thank you,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Why not? Ain’t I good enough?” asked the other, half offended.</p> + +<p>“You mean I’m puttin’ on airs ’cause I won’t drink with you? No, +sir-ree. There isn’t a man I’d drink with sooner than with you.”</p> + +<p>“Come up, then, old fellow. What’ll you take?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take a sandwich, if you insist on it.”</p> + +<p>“That’s vittles. What’ll you drink?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing but water. That’s strong enough for me.”</p> + +<p>“Danged if I don’t believe you’re a minister in disguise.”</p> + +<p>“I guess I’d make a cur’us preacher,” said Joshua, with a comical +twist of his features. “You wouldn’t want to hear me preach more’n +once.”</p> + +<p>In this way our friend Mr. Bickford managed to evade the hospitable +invitations of his comrades and still retain their good-will—not +always an easy thing to achieve in those times.</p> + +<p>Joe was equally positive in declining to drink, but it was easier for +him to escape. Even the most confirmed drinkers felt it to be wrong +to coax a boy to drink against his will.</p> + +<p>There was still another—Kellogg—who steadfastly adhered to cold +water, or tea and coffee, as a beverage. These three were dubbed by +their companions the “Cold-Water Brigade,” and accepted the +designation good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>“Joshua,” said Joe, some three months after their arrival, “have you +taken account of stock lately?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joshua, “but I’ll do it now.”</p> + +<p>After a brief time he announced the result.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got about five hundred dollars, or thereabouts,” he said.</p> + +<p>“You have done a little better than I have.”</p> + +<p>“How much have you?”</p> + +<p>“About four hundred and fifty.”</p> + +<p>“I owe you twenty-five dollars, Joe. That’ll make us even.”</p> + +<p>Joshua was about to transfer twenty-five dollars to Joe, when the +latter stayed his hand.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be in a hurry, Mr. Bickford,” he said. “Wait till we get to +the city.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Joe,” said Joshua, in a tone of satisfaction, “I am +richer than I was when I sot out from home?”</p> + +<p>“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Bickford. You have worked hard, and +deserve your luck.”</p> + +<p>“I had only three hundred dollars then; now I’ve got four hundred and +seventy-five, takin’ out what I owe you.”</p> + +<p>“You needn’t take it out at all.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve done enough for me, Joe. I don’t want you to give me that +debt.”</p> + +<p>“Remember, Joshua, I have got a business in the city paying me money +all the time. I expect my share of the profits will be more than I +have earned out here.”</p> + +<p>“That’s good. I wish I’d got a business like you. You’d be all +right even if you only get enough to pay expenses here.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so.”</p> + +<p>“I am getting rather tired of this place, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe, +after a little pause.</p> + +<p>“You don’t think of going back to the city?” asked Joshua +apprehensively.</p> + +<p>“Not directly, but I think I should like to see a little more of +California. These are not the only diggings.”</p> + +<p>“Where do you want to go?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t considered yet. The main thing is, will you go with me?”</p> + +<p>“We won’t part company, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Good! Then I’ll inquire, and see what I can find out about other +places. This pays fairly, but there is little chance of getting +nuggets of any size hereabouts.”</p> + +<p>“I’d just like to find one worth two thousand dollars. I’d start for +home mighty quick, and give Sukey Smith a chance to become Mrs. +Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Success to you!” said Joe, laughing.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXIII<br /> +A STARTLING TABLEAU</h2> + +<p>Joe finally decided on some mines a hundred miles distant in a +southwesterly direction. They were reported to be rich and promising.</p> + +<p>“At any rate,” said he, “even if they are no better than here, we +shall get a little variety and change of scene.”</p> + +<p>“That’ll be good for our appetite.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think, Mr. Bickford, that either of us need be concerned +about his appetite. Mine is remarkably healthy.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing was ever the matter with mine,” said Joshua, “as long as the +provisions held out.”</p> + +<p>They made some few preparations of a necessary character. Their +clothing was in rags, and they got a new outfit at the mining store. +Each also provided himself with a rifle. The expense of these made +some inroads upon their stock of money, but by the time they were +ready to start they had eight hundred dollars between them, besides +their outfit, and this they considered satisfactory.</p> + +<p>Kellogg at first proposed to go with them, but finally he changed his +mind.</p> + +<p>“I am in a hurry to get home,” he said, “and these mines are a sure +thing. If I were as young as you, I would take the risk. As it is, +I had better not. I’ve got a wife and child at home, and I want to +go back to them as soon as I can.”</p> + +<p>“You are right,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got a girl at home,” said Joshua, “but I guess she’ll wait for +me.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose she don’t,” suggested Joe.</p> + +<p>“I shan’t break my heart,” said Mr. Bickford. “There’s more than one +girl in the world.”</p> + +<p>“I see you are a philosopher, Mr. Bickford,” said his old +schoolmaster.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about that, but I don’t intend to make a fool of myself +for any gal. I shall say, ’Sukey, here I am; I’ve got a little +money, and I’m your’n till death if you say so. If you don’t want +me, I won’t commit susan-cide.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a capital joke, Joshua,” said Joe. “Her name is Susan, isn’t +it?”</p> + +<p>“Have I made a joke? Waal, I didn’t go to do it.”</p> + +<p>“It is unconscious wit, Mr. Bickford,” said Kellogg.</p> + +<p>“Pooty good joke, ain’t it?” said Joshua complacently. “Susan-cide, +and her name is Susan. Ho! ho! I never thought on’t.”</p> + +<p>And Joshua roared in appreciation of the joke which he had +unwittingly perpetrated, for it must be explained that he thought +susan-cide the proper form of the word expressing a voluntary +severing of the vital cord.</p> + +<p>Years afterward, when Joshua found himself the center of a social +throng, he was wont to say, “Ever heard that joke I made about +Susan?” and then he would cite it amid the plaudits of his friends.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford and Joe had not disposed of their horses. They had +suffered them to forage in the neighborhood of the river, thinking it +possible that the time would come when they would require them.</p> + +<p>One fine morning they set out from the camp near the banks of the +Yuba and set their faces in a southwesterly direction. They had made +themselves popular among their comrades, and the miners gave them a +hearty cheer as they started.</p> + +<p>“Good luck, Joe! Good luck, old man!” they exclaimed heartily.</p> + +<p>“The same to you, boy!”</p> + +<p>So with mutual good feeling they parted company.</p> + +<p>“We ain’t leavin’ like our friend from Pike County,” said Mr. +Bickford. “I often think of the poor critter trottin’ off with face +to the rear.”</p> + +<p>“I hope we shan’t meet him or any of his kind,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“So do I. He’d better go and live among the wildcats.”</p> + +<p>“He is some like them. He lives upon others.”</p> + +<p>It would only be wearisome to give a detailed account of the journey +of the two friends. One incident will suffice.</p> + +<p>On the fourth day Joe suddenly exclaimed in excitement:</p> + +<p>“Look, Joshua!”</p> + +<p>“By gosh!”</p> + +<p>The exclamation was a natural one. At the distance of forty rods a +man was visible, his hat off, his face wild with fear, and in +dangerous proximity a grizzly bear of the largest size doggedly +pursuing him.</p> + +<p>“It’s Hogan!” exclaimed Joe in surprise. “We must save him.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXIV<br /> +A GRIZZLY ON THE WAR-PATH</h2> + +<p>It may surprise some of my young friends to learn that the grizzly +bear is to be found in California. Though as the State has increased +in population mostly all have been killed off, even now among the +mountains they may be found, and occasionally visit the lower slopes +and attack men and beasts.</p> + +<p>Hogan had had the ill-luck to encounter one of these animals.</p> + +<p>When he first saw the grizzly there was a considerable space between +them. If he had concealed himself, he might have escaped the notice +of the beast, but when he commenced running the grizzly became aware +of his presence and started in pursuit.</p> + +<p>Hogan was rather dilapidated in appearance. Trusting to luck instead +of labor, he had had a hard time, as he might have expected. His +flannel shirt was ragged and his nether garments showed the ravages +of time. In the race his hat had dropped off and his rough, unkempt +hair was erect with fright. He was running rapidly, but was already +showing signs of exhaustion. The bear was getting over the ground +with clumsy speed, appearing to take it easily, but overhauling his +intended victim slowly, but surely.</p> + +<p>Joe and Bickford were standing on one side, and had not yet attracted +the attention of either party in this unequal race.</p> + +<p>“Poor chap!” said Joshua. “He looks most tuckered out. Shall I +shoot?”</p> + +<p>“Wait till the bear gets a little nearer. We can’t afford to miss. +He will turn on us.”</p> + +<p>“I’m in a hurry to roll the beast over,” said Joshua. “It’s a cruel +sight to see a grizzly hunting a man.”</p> + +<p>At this moment Hogan turned his head with the terror-stricken look of +a man who felt that he was lost.</p> + +<p>The bear was little more than a hundred feet behind him and was +gaining steadily. He was already terribly fatigued—his breathing +was reduced to a hoarse pant. He was overcome by the terror of the +situation, and his remaining strength gave way. With a shrill cry he +sank down upon the ground, and, shutting his eyes, awaited the attack.</p> + +<p>The bear increased his speed.</p> + +<p>“Now let him have it!” said Joe in a sharp, quick whisper.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford fired, striking the grizzly in the face.</p> + +<p>Bruin stood still and roared angrily. He wagged his large head from +one side to the other, seeking by whom this attack was made.</p> + +<p>He espied the two friends, and, abandoning his pursuit of Hogan, +rolled angrily toward them.</p> + +<p>“Give it to him quick, Joe!” exclaimed Bickford. “He’s making for +us.”</p> + +<p>Joe held his rifle with steady hand and took deliberate aim. It was +well he did, for had he failed both he and Bickford would have been +in great peril.</p> + +<p>His faithful rifle did good service.</p> + +<p>The bear tumbled to the earth with sudden awkwardness. The bullet +had reached a vital part and the grizzly was destined to do no more +mischief.</p> + +<p>“Is he dead, or only feigning?” asked Joe prudently.</p> + +<p>“He’s a gone coon,” said Joshua. “Let us go up and look at him.”</p> + +<p>They went up and stood over the huge beast. He was not quite dead. +He opened his glazing eyes, made a convulsive movement with his paws +as if he would like to attack his foes, and then his head fell back +and he moved no more.</p> + +<p>“He’s gone, sure enough,” said Bickford. “Good-by, old grizzly. You +meant well, but circumstances interfered with your good intentions.”</p> + +<p>“Now let us look up Hogan,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>The man had sunk to the ground utterly exhausted, and in his weakness +and terror had fainted.</p> + +<p>Joe got some water and threw it in his face.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes and drew a deep breath. A sudden recollection +blanched his face anew, and he cried:</p> + +<p>“Don’t let him get at me!”</p> + +<p>“You’re safe, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe. “The bear is dead.”</p> + +<p>“Dead! Is he really dead?”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t believe it, get up and look at him,” said Bickford.</p> + +<p>“I can’t get up—I’m so weak.”</p> + +<p>“Let me help you, then. There—do you see the critter?”</p> + +<p>Hogan shuddered as he caught sight of the huge beast only twenty-five +feet distant from him.</p> + +<p>“Was he as near as that?” he gasped.</p> + +<p>“He almost had you,” said Bickford. “If it hadn’t been for Joe and +me, he’d have been munchin’ you at this identical minute. Things +have changed a little, and in place of the bear eatin’ you you shall +help eat the bear.”</p> + +<p>By this time Hogan, realizing that he was safe, began to recover his +strength. As he did so he became angry with the beast that had +driven him such a hard race for life. He ran up to the grizzly and +kicked him.</p> + +<p>“Take that!” he exclaimed with an oath. “I wish you wasn’t dead, so +that I could stick my knife into you.”</p> + +<p>“If he wasn’t dead you’d keep your distance,” said Joshua dryly. “It +don’t require much courage to tackle him now.”</p> + +<p>Hogan felt this to be a reflection upon his courage.</p> + +<p>“I guess you’d have run, too, if he’d been after you,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I guess I should. Bears are all very well in their place, but I’d +rather not mingle with ’em socially. They’re very affectionate and +fond of hugging, but if I’m going to be hugged I wouldn’t choose a +bear.”</p> + +<p>“You seem to think I was a coward for runnin’ from the bear.”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t. How do I know you was runnin’ from the bear? Maybe +you was only takin’ a little exercise to get up an appetite for +dinner.”</p> + +<p>“I am faint and weak,” said Hogan. “I haven’t had anything to eat +for twelve hours.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have some food,” said Joe. “Joshua, where are the +provisions? We may as well sit down and lunch.”</p> + +<p>“Jest as you say, Joe. I most generally have an appetite.”</p> + +<p>There was a mountain spring within a stone’s throw. Joshua took a +tin pail and brought some of the sparkling beverage, which he offered +first to Hogan.</p> + +<p>Hogan drank greedily. His throat was parched and dry, and he needed +it.</p> + +<p>He drew a deep breath of relief.</p> + +<p>“I feel better,” said he. “I was in search of a spring when that +cursed beast spied me and gave me chase.”</p> + +<p>They sat down under the shade of a large tree and lunched.</p> + +<p>“What sort of luck have you had since you tried to break into my +restaurant, Mr. Hogan?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>Hogan changed color. The question was an awkward one.</p> + +<p>“Who told you I tried to enter your restaurant?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“The man you brought there.”</p> + +<p>“That wasn’t creditable of you, Hogan,” said Joshua, with his mouth +full. “After my friend Joe had given you a supper and promised you +breakfast, it was unkind to try to rob him. Don’t you think so +yourself?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t help it,” said Hogan, who had rapidly decided on his +defense.</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t help it?” said Joe in a tone of inquiry. “That’s rather a +strange statement.”</p> + +<p>“It’s true,” said Hogan. “The man forced me to do it.”</p> + +<p>“How was that?”</p> + +<p>“He saw me comin’ out of the restaurant a little while before, and +when he met me, after trying to rob me and finding that it didn’t +pay, he asked me if I was a friend of yours. I told him I was. Then +he began to ask if you slept there at night and if anybody was with +you. I didn’t want to answer, but he held a pistol at my head and +forced me to. Then he made me go with him. I offered to get in, +thinking I could whisper in your ear and warn you, but he wouldn’t +let me. He stationed me at the window and got in himself. You know +what followed. As soon as I saw you were too strong for him I ran +away, fearing that he might try to implicate me in the attempt at +robbery.”</p> + +<p>Hogan recited this story very glibly and in a very plausible manner.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “if I didn’t know you so thoroughly, I might +be disposed to put confidence in your statements. As it is, I regret +to say I don’t believe you.”</p> + +<p>“Hogan,” said Joshua, “I think you’re one of the fust romancers of +the age. If I ever start a story-paper I’ll engage you to write for +me.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry you do me so much injustice, gentlemen,” said Hogan, with +an air of suffering innocence. “I’m the victim of circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“I expect you’re a second George Washington. You never told a lie, +did you?”</p> + +<p>“Some time you will know me better,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“I hope not,” said Joe. “I know you better now than I want to.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXV<br /> +THE NEW DIGGINGS</h2> + +<p>When lunch-was over, Joe said:</p> + +<p>“Good day, Mr. Hogan. Look out for the grizzlies, and may you have +better luck in future.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Hogan, good-by,” said Joshua. “We make over to you all our +interest in the bear. He meant to eat you. You can revenge yourself +by eatin’ him.”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to leave me, gentlemen?” asked Hogan in alarm.</p> + +<p>“You don’t expect us to stay and take care of you, do you?”</p> + +<p>“Let me go with you,” pleaded Hogan. “I am afraid to be left alone +in this country. I may meet another grizzly, and lose my life.”</p> + +<p>“That would be a great loss to the world,” said Mr. Bickford, with +unconcealed sarcasm.</p> + +<p>“It would be a great loss to me,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Maybe that’s the best way to put it,” observed Bickford. “It would +have been money in my friend Joe’s pocket if you had never been born.”</p> + +<p>“May I go with you?” pleaded Hogan, this time addressing himself to +Joe.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “you know very well why your company is not +acceptable to us.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have no occasion to complain,” said Hogan earnestly.</p> + +<p>“Do you want us to adopt you, Hogan?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Let me stay with you till we reach the nearest diggings. Then I +won’t trouble you any more.”</p> + +<p>Joe turned to Bickford.</p> + +<p>“If you don’t object,” he said, “I think I’ll let him come.”</p> + +<p>“Let the critter come,” said Bickford. “He’d be sure to choke any +grizzly that tackled him. For the sake of the bear, let him come.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Hogan was too glad to join the party, on any conditions, to +resent the tone which Mr. Bickford employed in addressing him. He +obtained his suit, and the party of three kept on their way.</p> + +<p>As they advanced the country became rougher and more hilly. Here and +there they saw evidences of “prospecting” by former visitors. They +came upon deserted claims and the sites of former camps. But in +these places the indications of gold had not been sufficiently +favorable to warrant continued work, and the miners had gone +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>At last, however, they came to a dozen men who were busily at work in +a gulch. Two rude huts near-by evidently served as their temporary +homes.</p> + +<p>“Well, boys, how do you find it?” inquired Bickford, riding up.</p> + +<p>“Pretty fair,” said one of the party.</p> + +<p>“Have you got room for three more?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—come along. You can select claims alongside and go to work if +you want to.”</p> + +<p>“What do you say, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“I am in favor of it.”</p> + +<p>“We are going to put up here, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford. “You can do +as you’ve a mind to. Much as we value your interestin’ society, we +hope you won’t put yourself out to stay on our account.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll stay,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>Joe and Joshua surveyed the ground and staked out their claims, +writing out the usual notice and posting it on a neighboring tree. +They had not all the requisite tools, but these they were able to +purchase at one of the cabins.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do?” asked Hogan. “I’m dead broke. I can’t work +without tools, and I can’t buy any.”</p> + +<p>“Do you want to work for me?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“What’ll you give?”</p> + +<p>“That’ll depend on how you work. If you work stiddy, I’ll give you a +quarter of what we both make. I’ll supply you with tools, but +they’ll belong to me.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose we don’t make anything,” suggested Hogan.</p> + +<p>“You shall have a quarter of that. You see, I want to make it for +your interest to succeed.”</p> + +<p>“Then I shall starve.”</p> + +<p>The bargain was modified so that Hogan was assured of enough to eat, +and was promised, besides, a small sum of money daily, but was not to +participate in the gains.</p> + +<p>“If we find a nugget, it won’t do you any good. Do you understand, +Hogan?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I understand.”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, having very little faith in any +prospective nuggets.</p> + +<p>“Then we understand each other. That’s all I want.”</p> + +<p>On the second day Joe and Mr. Bickford consolidated their claims and +became partners, agreeing to divide whatever they found. Hogan was +to work for them jointly.</p> + +<p>They did not find their hired man altogether satisfactory. He was +lazy and shiftless by nature, and work was irksome to him.</p> + +<p>“If you don’t work stiddy, Hogan,” said Joshua, “you can’t expect to +eat stiddy, and your appetite is pretty reg’lar, I notice.”</p> + +<p>Under this stimulus Hogan managed to work better than he had done +since he came out to California, or indeed for years preceding his +departure. Bickford and Joe had both been accustomed to farm work +and easily lapsed into their old habits.</p> + +<p>They found they had made a change for the better in leaving the banks +of the Yuba. The claims they were now working paid them better.</p> + +<p>“Twenty-five dollars to-day,” said Joshua, a week after their +arrival. “That pays better than hoeing pertaters, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, Mr. Bickford. You are ten dollars ahead of me. I am +afraid you will lose on our partnership.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll risk it, Joe.”</p> + +<p>Hogan was the only member of the party who was not satisfied.</p> + +<p>“Can’t you take me into partnership?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“We can, but I don’t think we will, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t pay. If you don’t like workin’ for us, you can take a +claim of your own.”</p> + +<p>“I have no tools.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you save your money and buy some, instead of gamblin’ it +away as you are doin’?”</p> + +<p>“A man must have amusement,” grumbled Hogan. “Besides, I may have +luck and win.”</p> + +<p>“Better keep clear of gamblin’, Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Hogan, if you want to start a claim of your own, I’ll give you +what tools you need,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Upon reflection Hogan decided to accept this offer.</p> + +<p>“But of course you will have to find your own vittles now,” said +Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>The same day he ceased to work for the firm of Bickford & Mason, for +Joe insisted on giving Mr. Bickford the precedence as the senior +party, and started on his own account.</p> + +<p>The result was that he worked considerably less than before. Being +his own master, he decided not to overwork himself, and in fact +worked only enough to make his board. He was continually grumbling +over his bad luck, although Joshua told him plainly that it wasn’t +luck, but industry, he lacked.</p> + +<p>“If you’d work like we do,” said Bickford, “you wouldn’t need to +complain. Your claim is just as good as ours, as far as we can tell.”</p> + +<p>“Then let us go in as partners,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Not much. You ain’t the kind of partner I want.”</p> + +<p>“I was always unfortunate,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“You were always lazy, I reckon. You were born tired, weren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“My health ain’t good,” said Hogan. “I can’t work like you two.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve got a healthy appetite,” said Mr. Bickford. “There ain’t no +trouble there that I can see.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Hogan had an easier time than before, but he hadn’t money to +gamble with unless he deprived himself of his customary supply of +food, and this he was reluctant to do.</p> + +<p>“Lend me half-an-ounce of gold-dust, won’t you?” he asked of Joe one +evening.</p> + +<p>“What do you want it for—to gamble with?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Hogan. “I dreamed last night that I broke the bank. All +I want is money enough to start me.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t approve of gambling, and can’t help you.”</p> + +<p>Hogan next tried Mr. Bickford, but with like result.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t quite such a fool, Hogan,” said the plain-spoken Joshua.</p> + +<p>About this time a stroke of good luck fell to Joe. About three +o’clock one afternoon he unearthed a nugget which, at a rough +estimate, might be worth five hundred dollars.</p> + +<p>Instantly all was excitement in the mining-camp, not alone for what +he had obtained, but for the promise of richer deposits. Experienced +miners decided that he had struck upon what is popularly called a +“pocket,” and some of these are immensely remunerative.</p> + +<p>“Shake hands, Joe,” said Bickford. “You’re in luck.”</p> + +<p>“So are you, Mr. Bickford. We are partners, you know.”</p> + +<p>In less than an hour the two partners received an offer of eight +thousand dollars for their united claim, and the offer was accepted.</p> + +<p>Joe was the hero of the camp. All were rejoiced at his good fortune +except one. That one was Hogan, who from a little distance, jealous +and gloomy, surveyed the excited crowd.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXVI<br /> +HOGAN’S DISCONTENT</h2> + +<p>“Why don’t luck come to me?” muttered Hogan to himself. “That green +country boy has made a fortune, while I, an experienced man of the +world, have to live from hand to mouth. It’s an outrage!”</p> + +<p>The parties to whom Joe and his partner sold their claim were +responsible men who had been fortunate in mining and had a +bank-account in San Francisco.</p> + +<p>“We’ll give you an order on our banker,” they proposed.</p> + +<p>“That will suit me better than money down,” said Joe. “I shall start +for San Francisco to-morrow, having other business there that I need +to look after.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll go too, Joe,” said Joshua. “With my share of the +purchase-money and the nugget, I’m worth, nigh on to five thousand +dollars. What will dad say?”</p> + +<p>“And what will Susan Smith say?” queried Joe.</p> + +<p>Joshua grinned.</p> + +<p>“I guess she’ll say she’s ready to change her name to Bickford,” said +he.</p> + +<p>“You must send me some of the cake, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Just wait, Joe. The thing ain’t got to that yet. I tell you, Joe, +I shall be somebody when I get home to Pumpkin Hollow with that pile +of money. The boys’ll begin to look up to me then. I can’t hardly +believe it’s all true. Maybe I’m dreamin’ it. Jest pinch my arm, +will you?”</p> + +<p>Joe complied with his request.</p> + +<p>“That’ll do, Joe. You’ve got some strength in your fingers. I guess +it’s true, after all.”</p> + +<p>Joe observed with some surprise that Hogan did not come near them. +The rest, without exception, had congratulated them on their +extraordinary good luck.</p> + +<p>“Seems to me Hogan looks rather down in the mouth,” said Joe to +Bickford.</p> + +<p>“He’s mad ’cause he didn’t find the nugget. That’s what’s the matter +with him. I say, Hogan, you look as if your dinner didn’t agree with +you.”</p> + +<p>“My luck don’t agree with me.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to look at things right. Wasn’t you lucky the other +day to get away from the bear?”</p> + +<p>“I was unlucky enough to fall in with him.”</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t you lucky in meetin’ my friend Joe in New York, and raisin’ +money enough out of him to pay your passage out to Californy?”</p> + +<p>“I should be better off in New York. I am dead broke.”</p> + +<p>“You’d be dead broke in New York. Such fellers as you always is dead +broke.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Bickford?” demanded Hogan irritably.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t rare up, Hogan. It won’t do no good. You’d ought to have +more respect for me, considerin’ I was your boss once.”</p> + +<p>“I’d give something for that boy’s luck.”</p> + +<p>“Joe’s luck? Well, things have gone pretty well with him; but that +don’t explain all his success—he’s willin’ to work.”</p> + +<p>“So am I.”</p> + +<p>“Then go to work on your claim. There’s no knowin’ but there’s a +bigger nugget inside of it. If you stand round with your hands in +your pockets, you’ll never find it.”</p> + +<p>“It’s the poorest claim in the gulch,” said Hogan discontentedly.</p> + +<p>“It pays the poorest because you don’t work half the time.”</p> + +<p>Hogan apparently didn’t like Mr. Bickford’s plainness of speech. He +walked away moodily, with his hands in his pockets. He could not +help contrasting his penniless position with the enviable position of +the two friends, and the devil, who is always in wait for such +moments, thrust an evil suggestion into his mind.</p> + +<p>It was this:</p> + +<p>He asked himself why could he not steal the nugget which Joe had +found?</p> + +<p>“He can spare it, for he has sold the claim for a fortune,” Hogan +reasoned. “It isn’t fair that he should have everything and I should +have nothing. He ought to have made me his partner, anyway. He +would if he hadn’t been so selfish. I have just as much right to a +share in it as this infernal Yankee. I’d like to choke him.”</p> + +<p>This argument was a very weak one, but a man easily persuades himself +of what he wants to do.</p> + +<p>“I’ll try for it,” Hogan decided, “this very night.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXVII<br /> +THE NUGGET IS STOLEN</h2> + +<p>At this time Joe and Joshua were occupying a tent which they had +purchased on favorable terms of a fellow miner.</p> + +<p>They retired in good season, for they wished to start early on their +journey on the following morning.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know as I can go to sleep,” said Joshua. “I can’t help +thinkin’ of how rich I am, and what dad and all the folks will say.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to go home at once, Mr. Bickford?”</p> + +<p>“Jest as soon as I can get ready. I’ll tell you what I am goin’ to +do, Joe. I’m goin’ to buy a tip-top suit when I get to Boston, and a +gold watch and chain, and a breast-pin about as big as a saucer. +When I sail into Pumpkin Holler in that rig folks’ll look at me, you +bet. There’s old Squire Pennyroyal, he’ll be disappointed for one.”</p> + +<p>“Why will he be disappointed?”</p> + +<p>“Because he told dad I was a fool to come out here. He said I’d be +back in rags before a year was out. Now, the old man thinks a good +deal of his opinion, and he won’t like it to find how badly he’s +mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“Then he would prefer to see you come home in rags?”</p> + +<p>“You bet he would.”</p> + +<p>“How about Susan? Ain’t you afraid she has married the store clerk?”</p> + +<p>Joshua looked grave for a moment.</p> + +<p>“I won’t say but she has,” said he; “but if she has gone and +forgotten about me jest because my back is turned, she ain’t the gal +I take her for, and I won’t fret my gizzard about her.”</p> + +<p>“She will feel worse than you when she finds you have come back with +money.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so.”</p> + +<p>“And you will easily find some one else,” suggested Joe.</p> + +<p>“There’s Sophrony Thompson thinks a sight of me,” said Mr. Bickford. +“She’s awful jealous of Susan. If Susan goes back on me, I’ll call +round and see Sophrony.”</p> + +<p>Joe laughed.</p> + +<p>“I won’t feel anxious about you, Joshua,” he said, “since I find you +have two girls to choose between.”</p> + +<p>“Not much danger of breakin’ my heart. It’s pretty tough.”</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence.</p> + +<p>Then Joshua said:</p> + +<p>“What are your plans, Joe? Shall you remain in San Francisco?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been thinking, Mr. Bickford, that I would like to go home on a +visit. If I find that I have left my business in good hands in the +city, I shall feel strongly tempted to go home on the same steamer +with you.”</p> + +<p>“That would be hunky,” said Bickford, really delighted. “We’d have a +jolly time.”</p> + +<p>“I think we would. But, Mr. Bickford, I have no girls to welcome me +home, as you have.”</p> + +<p>“You ain’t old enough yet, Joe. You’re a good-lookin’ feller, and +when the time comes I guess you can find somebody.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t begin to trouble myself about such things yet,” said Joe, +laughing. “I am only sixteen.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve been through considerable, Joe, for a boy of sixteen. I wish +you’d come up to Pumpkin Holler and make me a visit when you’re to +home.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I can arrange to be present at your wedding, Mr. +Bickford—that is, if Susan doesn’t make you wait too long.”</p> + +<p>While this conversation was going on the dark figure of a man was +prowling near the tent.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t the fools stop talking and go to sleep,” muttered Hogan. +“I don’t want to wait here all night.” His wish was gratified.</p> + +<p>The two friends ceased talking and lay quite still. Soon Joe’s deep, +regular breathing and Bickford’s snoring convinced the listener that +the time had come to carry out his plans.</p> + +<p>With stealthy step he approached the tent, and stooping over gently +removed the nugget from under Joshua’s head. There was a bag of +gold-dust which escaped his notice. The nugget was all he thought of.</p> + +<p>With beating heart and hasty step the thief melted into the darkness, +and the two friends slept on unconscious of their loss.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXVIII<br /> +HOGAN’S FATE</h2> + +<p>The sun was up an hour before Joe and Bickford awoke. When Joe +opened his eyes he saw that it was later than the hour he intended to +rise. He shook his companion.</p> + +<p>“Is it mornin’?” asked Bickford drowsily.</p> + +<p>“I should say it was. Everybody is up and eating breakfast. We must +prepare to set out on our journey.”</p> + +<p>“Then it is time—we are rich,” said Joshua, with sudden remembrance. +“Do you know, Joe, I hain’t got used to the thought yet. I had +actually forgotten it.”</p> + +<p>“The sight of the nugget will bring it to mind.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so.”</p> + +<p>Bickford felt for the nugget, without a suspicion that the search +would be in vain.</p> + +<p>Of course he did not find it.</p> + +<p>“Joe, you are trying to play a trick on me,” he said. “You’ve taken +the nugget.”</p> + +<p>“What!” exclaimed Joe, starting. “Is it missing?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and you know all about it. Where have you put it, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“On my honor, Joshua, I haven’t touched it,” said Joe seriously. +“Where did you place it?”</p> + +<p>“Under my head—the last thing before I lay down.”</p> + +<p>“Are you positive of it?”</p> + +<p>“Certain, sure.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Joe, a little pale, “it must have been taken during the +night.”</p> + +<p>“Who would take it?”</p> + +<p>“Let us find Hogan,” said Joe, with instinctive suspicion. “Who has +seen Hogan?”</p> + +<p>Hogan’s claim was in sight, but he was not at work. Neither was he +taking breakfast.</p> + +<p>“I’ll bet the skunk has grabbed the nugget and cleared out,” +exclaimed Bickford, in a tone of conviction.</p> + +<p>“Did you hear or see anything of him during the night?”</p> + +<p>“No—I slept too sound.”</p> + +<p>“Is anything else taken?” asked Joe. “The bag of dust——”</p> + +<p>“Is safe. It’s only the nugget that’s gone.”</p> + +<p>The loss was quickly noised about the camp. Such an incident was of +common interest. Miners lived so much in common—their property was +necessarily left so unguarded—that theft was something more than +misdemeanor or light offense. Stern was the justice which overtook +the thief in those days. It was necessary, perhaps, for it was a +primitive state of society, and the code which in established +communities was a safeguard did not extend its protection here.</p> + +<p>Suspicion fell upon Hogan at once. No one of the miners remembered +to have seen him since rising.</p> + +<p>“Did any one see him last night?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>Kellogg answered.</p> + +<p>“I saw him near your tent,” he said. “I did not think anything of +it. Perhaps if I had been less sleepy I should have been more likely +to suspect that his design was not a good one.”</p> + +<p>“About what hour was this?”</p> + +<p>“It must have been between ten and eleven o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“We did not go to sleep at once. Mr. Bickford and I were talking +over our plans.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I’d been awake when the skunk come round,” said Bickford. +“I’d have grabbed him so he’d thought an old grizzly’d got hold of +him.”</p> + +<p>“Did you notice anything in his manner that led you to think he +intended robbery?” asked Kellogg.</p> + +<p>“He was complainin’ of his luck. He thought Joe and I got more than +our share, and I’m willin’ to allow we have; but if we’d been as lazy +and shif’less as Hogan we wouldn’t have got down to the nugget at +all.”</p> + +<p>An informal council was held, and it was decided to pursue Hogan. As +it was uncertain in which direction he had fled, it was resolved to +send out four parties of two men each to hunt him. Joe and Kellogg +went together, Joshua and another miner departed in a different +direction, and two other pairs started out.</p> + +<p>“I guess we’ll fix him,” said Mr. Bickford. “If he can dodge us all, +he’s smarter than I think he is.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Hogan, with the precious nugget in his possession, hurried +forward with feverish haste. The night was dark and the country was +broken. From time to time he stumbled over some obstacle, the root +of a tree or something similar, and this made his journey more +arduous.</p> + +<p>“I wish it was light,” he muttered.</p> + +<p>Then he revoked his wish. In the darkness and obscurity lay his +hopes of escape.</p> + +<p>“I’d give half this nugget if I was safe in San Francisco,” he said +to himself.</p> + +<p>He stumbled on, occasionally forced by his fatigue to sit down and +rest.</p> + +<p>“I hope I’m going in the right direction, but I don’t know,” he said +to himself.</p> + +<p>He had been traveling with occasional rests for four hours when +fatigue overcame him. He lay down to take a slight nap, but when he +awoke the sun was up.</p> + +<p>“Good Heaven!” he exclaimed in alarm. “I must have slept for some +hours. I will eat something to give me strength, and then I must +hurry on.”</p> + +<p>He had taken the precaution to take some provisions with him, and he +began to eat them as he hurried along.</p> + +<p>“They have just discovered their loss,” thought Hogan. “Will they +follow me, I wonder? I must be a good twelve miles away, and this is +a fair start. They will turn back before they have come as far as +this. Besides, they won’t know in what direction I have come.”</p> + +<p>Hogan was mistaken in supposing himself to be twelve miles away. In +reality, he was not eight. During the night he had traveled at +disadvantage, and taken a round-about way without being aware of it. +He was mistaken also in supposing that the pursuit would be easily +abandoned. Mining communities could not afford to condone theft, nor +were they disposed to facilitate the escape of the thief. More than +once the murderer had escaped, while the thief was pursued +relentlessly. All this made Hogan’s position a perilous one. If he +had been long enough in the country to understand the feeling of the +people, he would not have ventured to steal the nugget.</p> + +<p>About eleven o’clock Hogan sat down to rest. He reclined on the +greensward near the edge of a precipitous descent. He did not dream +that danger was so close till he heard his name called and two men +came running toward him. Hogan, starting to his feet in dismay, +recognized Crane and Peabody, two of his late comrades.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” he faltered, as they came within hearing.</p> + +<p>“The nugget,” said Crane sternly.</p> + +<p>Hogan would have denied its possession if he could, but there it was +at his side.</p> + +<p>“There it is,” he said.</p> + +<p>“What induced you to steal it?” demanded Crane.</p> + +<p>“I was dead broke. Luck was against me. I couldn’t help it.”</p> + +<p>“It was a bad day’s work for you,” said Peabody. “Didn’t you know +the penalty attached to theft in the mining-camps?”</p> + +<p>“No,” faltered Hogan, alarmed at the stern looks of his captors. +“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Death by hanging,” was the terrible reply.</p> + +<p>Hogan’s face blanched, and he sank on his knees before them.</p> + +<p>“Don’t let me be hung!” he entreated. “You’ve got the nugget back. +I’ve done no harm. No one has lost anything by me.”</p> + +<p>“Eight of us have lost our time in pursuing you. You gave up the +nugget because you were forced to. You intended to carry it away.”</p> + +<p>“Mercy! mercy! I’m a very unlucky man. I’ll go away and never +trouble you again.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t mean that you shall,” said Crane sternly. “Peabody, tie +his hands; we must take him back with us.”</p> + +<p>“I won’t go,” said Hogan, lying down. “I am not going back to be +hung.”</p> + +<p>It would obviously be impossible to carry a struggling man back +fifteen miles, or more.</p> + +<p>“We must hang you on the spot then,” said Crane, producing a cord. +“Say your prayers; your fate is sealed.”</p> + +<p>“But this is murder!” faltered Hogan, with pallid lips.</p> + +<p>“We take the responsibility.”</p> + +<p>He advanced toward Hogan, who now felt the full horrors of his +situation. He sprang to his feet, rushed in frantic fear to the edge +of the precipice, threw up his arms, and plunged headlong. It was +done so quickly that neither of his captors was able to prevent him.</p> + +<p>They hurried to the precipice and looked over. A hundred feet below, +on a rough rock, they saw a shapeless and motionless figure, crushed +out of human semblance.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is as well,” said Crane gravely. “He has saved us an +unwelcome task.”</p> + +<p>The nugget was restored to its owners, to whom Hogan’s tragical fate +was told.</p> + +<p>“Poor fellow!” said Joe soberly. “I would rather have lost the +nugget.”</p> + +<p>“So would I,” said Bickford. “He was a poor, shif’less critter; but +I’m sorry for him.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXIX<br /> +HOW JOE’S BUSINESS PROSPERED</h2> + +<p>Joe and his friend Bickford arrived in San Francisco eight days later +without having met with any other misadventure or drawback. He had +been absent less than three months, yet he found changes. A +considerable number of buildings had gone up in different parts of +the town during his absence.</p> + +<p>“It is a wonderful place,” said Joe to his companion.</p> + +<p>“It is going to be a great city some day.”</p> + +<p>“It’s ahead of Pumpkin Holler already,” said Mr. Bickford, “though +the Holler has been goin’ for over a hundred years.”</p> + +<p>Joe smiled at the comparison. He thought he could foresee the rapid +progress of the new city, but he was far from comprehending the +magnificent future that lay before it. A short time since, the +writer of this story ascended to the roof of the Palace Hotel, and +from this lofty elevation, a hundred and forty feet above the +sidewalk, scanned with delighted eyes a handsome and substantial +city, apparently the growth of a century, and including within its +broad limits a population of three hundred thousand souls. It will +not be many years before it reaches half-a-million, and may fairly be +ranked among the great cities of the world.</p> + +<p>Of course Joe’s first visit was to his old place of business. He +received a hearty greeting from Watson, his deputy.</p> + +<p>“I am glad to see you, Joe,” said he, grasping our hero’s hand +cordially. “When did you arrive?”</p> + +<p>“Ten minutes ago. I have made you the first call.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you thought I might have ‘vamosed the ranch,’” said Watson, +smiling, “and left you and the business in the lurch.”</p> + +<p>“I had no fears on that score,” said Joe. “Has business been good?”</p> + +<p>“Excellent. I have paid weekly your share of the profits to Mr. +Morgan.”</p> + +<p>“Am I a millionaire yet?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not quite. I have paid Mr. Morgan on your account”—here Watson +consulted a small account-book—“nine hundred and twenty-five +dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Is it possible?” said Joe, gratified. “That is splendid.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are satisfied?”</p> + +<p>“More than satisfied.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad of it. I have made the same for myself and so have nearly +half made up the sum which I so foolishly squandered at the +gaming-table.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad for you, Mr. Watson.”</p> + +<p>“How have you prospered at the mines?”</p> + +<p>“I have had excellent luck.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe you bring home as much money as I have made for you +here.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t bet on that, Mr. Watson, for you would lose.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say that you have made a thousand dollars?” +exclaimed Watson, surprised.</p> + +<p>“I have made five thousand dollars within a hundred or two.”</p> + +<p>“Is it possible?” ejaculated Watson. “You beat everything for luck, +Joe.”</p> + +<p>“So he does,” said Bickford, who felt that it was time for him to +speak. “It’s lucky for me that I fell in with him. It brought me +luck, too, for we went into partnership together.”</p> + +<p>“Have you brought home five thousand dollars, too?” asked Watson.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got about the same as Joe, and now I’m going home to marry +Susan Smith if she’ll have me.”</p> + +<p>“She’ll marry a rich miner, Mr. Bickford. You needn’t be concerned +about that.”</p> + +<p>“I feel pretty easy in mind,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“How soon do you sail?”</p> + +<p>“When does the next steamer go?”</p> + +<p>“In six days.”</p> + +<p>“I guess it’ll carry me.”</p> + +<p>Watson turned to Joe.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you will now take charge of your own business?” said he. +“I am ready to hand over my trust at any minute.”</p> + +<p>“Would you object to retaining charge for—say for four months to +come?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Object? I should be delighted to do it. I couldn’t expect to make +as much money any other way.”</p> + +<p>“You see, Mr. Watson, I am thinking of going home myself on a visit. +I feel that I can afford it, and I should like to see my old friends +and acquaintances under my new and improved circumstances.”</p> + +<p>Watson was evidently elated at the prospect of continued employment +of so remunerative a character.</p> + +<p>“You may depend upon it that your interests are safe in my hands,” +said he. “I will carry on the business as if it were my own. +Indeed, it will be for my interest to do so.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Watson. I have perfect confidence In your +management.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s next call was on his friend Morgan, by whom also he was +cordially welcomed.</p> + +<p>“Have you called on Watson?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then he has probably given you an idea of how your business has gone +on during your absence. He is a thoroughly reliable man, in my +opinion. You were fortunate to secure his services.”</p> + +<p>“So I think.”</p> + +<p>“Have you done well at the mines?” asked Mr. Morgan doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“You hope so, but you don’t feel confident?” said Joe, smiling.</p> + +<p>“You can read my thoughts exactly. I don’t consider mining as +reliable as a regular business.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I, in general, but there is one thing you don’t take into +account.”</p> + +<p>“What is that?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford answered the question.</p> + +<p>“Joe’s luck.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have been lucky?”</p> + +<p>“How much do you think I have brought home?”</p> + +<p>“A thousand dollars?”</p> + +<p>“Five times that sum.”</p> + +<p>“Are you in earnest?” asked Mr. Morgan, incredulous.</p> + +<p>“Wholly so.”</p> + +<p>“Then let me congratulate you—on that and something else.”</p> + +<p>“What is that?”</p> + +<p>“The lots you purchased, including the one on which your restaurant +is situated, have more than doubled in value.”</p> + +<p>“Bully for you, Joe!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>“It never rains but it pours,” said Joe, quoting an old proverb. “I +begin to think I shall be rich some time, Mr. Morgan.”</p> + +<p>“It seems very much like it.”</p> + +<p>“What would you advise me to do, Mr. Morgan—sell out the lots at the +present advance?”</p> + +<p>“Hold on to them, Joe. Not only do that, but buy more. This is +destined some day to be a great city. It has a favorable location, +is the great mining center, and the State, I feel convinced, has an +immense territory fit for agricultural purposes. Lots here may +fluctuate, but they will go up a good deal higher than present +figures.”</p> + +<p>“If you think so, Mr. Morgan, I will leave in your hands three +thousand dollars for investment in other lots. This will leave me, +including my profits from the business during my absence, nearly +three thousand dollars more, which I shall take East and invest +there.”</p> + +<p>“I will follow your instructions, Joe, and predict that your real +estate investments will make you rich sooner than you think.”</p> + +<p>“Joe,” said Bickford, “I’ve a great mind to leave half of my money +with Mr. Morgan to be invested in the same way.”</p> + +<p>“Do it, Mr. Bickford. That will leave you enough to use at home.”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I can buy a farm for two thousand dollars and stock it for five +hundred more. Besides, I needn’t pay more than half down, if I don’t +want to.”</p> + +<p>“A good plan,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Morgan, will you take my money and invest it for me just like +Joe’s? Of course I want you to take a commission for doing it.”</p> + +<p>“With pleasure, Mr. Bickford, more especially as I have decided to +open a real estate office in addition to my regular business. You +and Joe will be my first customers. I shouldn’t wonder if the two or +three thousand dollars you leave with me should amount in ten years +to ten thousand.”</p> + +<p>“Ten thousand!” ejaculated Joshua, elated. “Won’t I swell round +Pumpkin Holler when I’m worth ten thousand dollars!”</p> + +<p>Six days later, among the passengers by the steamer for Panama, were +Joseph Mason and Joshua Bickford.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XL<br /> +JOE’S WELCOME HOME</h2> + +<p>On arriving in New York both Joe and Mr. Bickford bought new suits of +clothes. Mr. Bickford purchased a blue dress suit, resplendent with +brass buttons, and a gold watch and chain, which made a good deal of +show for the money. His tastes were still barbaric, and a quiet suit +of black would not have come up to his idea of what was befitting a +successful California miner.</p> + +<p>He surveyed himself before the tailor’s glass with abundant +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“I guess that’ll strike ’em at home, eh, Joe?” he said.</p> + +<p>“You look splendid, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Kinder scrumptious, don’t I?”</p> + +<p>“Decidedly so.”</p> + +<p>“I say, Joe, you’d better have a suit made just like this.”</p> + +<p>Joe shuddered at the thought. In refinement of taste he was +decidedly ahead of his friend and partner.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to buy a second-hand suit,” he said.</p> + +<p>“What!” ejaculated Joshua.</p> + +<p>Joe smiled.</p> + +<p>“I knew you’d be surprised, but I’ll explain. I want people to think +at first that I have been unlucky.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see,” said Joshua, nodding; “kinder take ’em in.”</p> + +<p>“Just so, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Well, there is something in that.”</p> + +<p>“Then I shall find out who my true friends are.”</p> + +<p>“Just so.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It is not my purpose to describe Mr. Bickford’s arrival in Pumpkin +Hollow, resplendent in his new suit. Joshua wouldn’t have changed +places with the President of the United States on that day. His old +friends gathered about him, and listened open-mouthed to his stories +of mining life in California and his own wonderful exploits, which +lost nothing in the telling. He found his faithful Susan unmarried, +and lost no time in renewing his suit. He came, he saw, he conquered!</p> + +<p>In four weeks Susan became Mrs. Bickford, her husband became the +owner of the farm he coveted, and he at once took his place among the +prominent men of Pumpkin Hollow. In a few years he was appointed +justice of the peace, and became known as Squire Bickford. It may be +as well to state here, before taking leave of him, that his real +estate investments in San Francisco proved fortunate, and in ten +years he found himself worth ten thousand dollars. This to Joshua +was a fortune, and he is looked upon as a solid man in the town where +he resides.</p> + +<p>We now turn to Joe.</p> + +<p>Since his departure nothing definite had been heard of him. Another +boy had taken his place on Major Norton’s farm, but he was less +reliable than Joe.</p> + +<p>“I am out of patience with that boy. I wish I had Joe back again.”</p> + +<p>“Have you heard anything of Joe since he went away?” inquired Oscar.</p> + +<p>“Not a word.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe he went to California at all.”</p> + +<p>“In that case we should have heard from him.”</p> + +<p>“No, Joe’s proud—poor and proud!” said Oscar. “I guess he’s wished +himself back many a time, but he’s too proud to own it.”</p> + +<p>“Joe was good to work,” said the major.</p> + +<p>“He was too conceited. He didn’t know his place. He thought himself +as good as me,” said Oscar arrogantly.</p> + +<p>“Most people seemed to like Joe,” said the major candidly.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t,” said Oscar, tossing his head. “If he’d kept in his place +and realized that he was a hired boy, I could have got along well +enough with him.”</p> + +<p>“I wish he would come back,” said the major. “I would take him back.”</p> + +<p>“I dare say he’s had a hard time and would be humbler now,” said +Oscar.</p> + +<p>At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and just afterward Joe +entered.</p> + +<p>He wore a mixed suit considerably the worse for wear and patched in +two or three places. There was a rip under the arm, and his hat, a +soft felt one, had become shapeless from long and apparently hard +usage. He stood in the doorway, waiting for recognition.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Joe?” said Major Norton cordially. “I am glad to see +you.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s face lighted up.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Shake hands, Joe.”</p> + +<p>Major Norton was mean in money matters, but he had something of the +gentleman about him.</p> + +<p>Oscar held aloof.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Oscar?”</p> + +<p>“I’m well,” said Oscar. “Have you been to California?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to have made your fortune,” said Oscar +superciliously, eying Joe’s shabby clothing.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t starved,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Where did you get that suit of clothes?” asked Oscar.</p> + +<p>“I hope you’ll excuse my appearance,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Well, Joe, do you want to come back to your old place?” asked Major +Norton. “I’ve got a boy, but he doesn’t suit me.”</p> + +<p>“How much would you be willing to pay me, Major Norton?”</p> + +<p>The major coughed.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he, “I gave you your board and clothes before. That’s +pretty good pay for a boy.”</p> + +<p>“I’m older now.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do the same by you, Joe, and give you fifty cents a week +besides.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you for the offer, Major Norton. I’ll take till to-morrow to +think of it.”</p> + +<p>“You’d better accept it now,” said Oscar. “Beggars shouldn’t be +choosers.”</p> + +<p>“I am not a beggar, Oscar,” said Joe mildly.</p> + +<p>“You look like one, anyway,” said Oscar bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Oscar,” said Major Norton, “if Joe has been unlucky, you shouldn’t +throw it in his teeth.”</p> + +<p>“He went off expecting to make his fortune,” said Oscar, in an +exulting tone. “He looks as if he had made it. Where are you going?”</p> + +<p>“I am going to look about the village a little. I will call again.”</p> + +<p>After Joe went out Oscar said:</p> + +<p>“It does me good to see Joe come in rags. Serves him right for +putting on airs.”</p> + +<p>On the main street Joe met Annie Raymond.</p> + +<p>“Why, Joe!” she exclaimed, delighted. “Is it really you?”</p> + +<p>“Bad pennies always come back,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Have you—— I am afraid you have not been fortunate,” said the +young lady, hesitating as she noticed Joe’s shabby clothes.</p> + +<p>“Do you think less of me for that?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Annie Raymond warmly. “It is you I like, not your +clothes. You may have been unfortunate, but I am sure you deserved +success.”</p> + +<p>“You are a true friend, Miss Annie, so I don’t mind telling you that +I was successful.”</p> + +<p>Annie Raymond looked astonished.</p> + +<p>“And these clothes—” she began.</p> + +<p>“I put on for Oscar Norton’s benefit. I wanted to see how he would +receive me. He evidently rejoiced at my bad fortune.”</p> + +<p>“Oscar is a mean boy. Joe, you must come to our house to supper.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, I will; but I will go round to the hotel and change my +clothes.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind.”</p> + +<p>“But I do mind. I don’t fancy a shabby suit as long as I can afford +to wear a good one.”</p> + +<p>Joe went to the hotel, took off his ragged clothes, put on a new and +stylish suit which he recently had made for him, donned a gold watch +and chain, and hat in the latest style, and thus dressed, his natural +good looks were becomingly set off.</p> + +<p>“How do I look now?” he asked, when he met Miss Annie Raymond at her +own door.</p> + +<p>“Splendidly, Joe. I thought you were a young swell from the city.”</p> + +<p>After supper Annie said, her eyes sparkling with mischief:</p> + +<p>“Suppose we walk over to Major Norton’s and see Oscar.”</p> + +<p>“Just what I wanted to propose.”</p> + +<p>Oscar was out in the front yard, when he caught sight of Joe and +Annie Raymond approaching. He did not at first recognize Joe, but +thought, like the young lady, that it was some swell from the city.</p> + +<p>“You see I’ve come again, Oscar,” said Joe, smiling.</p> + +<p>Oscar could not utter a word. He was speechless with astonishment.</p> + +<p>“I thought you were poor,” he uttered, at last.</p> + +<p>“I have had better luck than you thought.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose you spent all your money for those clothes.”</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken, Oscar. I am not so foolish. I left between two +and three thousand dollars in a New York bank, and I have more than +twice that in San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t possible!” exclaimed Oscar, surprised and disappointed.</p> + +<p>“Here is my bank-book; you can look at it,” and Joe pointed to a +deposit of twenty-five hundred dollars. “I don’t think, Oscar, it +will pay me to accept your father’s offer and take my old place.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand it. How did you do it?” asked the bewildered +Oscar.</p> + +<p>“I suppose it was my luck,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not wholly that,” said Annie Raymond. “It was luck and labor.”</p> + +<p>“I accept the amendment, Miss Annie.”</p> + +<p>Oscar’s manner changed at once. Joe, the successful Californian, was +very different from Joe, the hired boy. He became very attentive to +our hero, and before he left town condescended to borrow twenty +dollars of him, which he never remembered to repay. He wanted to go +back to California with Joe, but his father would not consent.</p> + +<p>When Joe returned to San Francisco, by advice of Mr. Morgan he sold +out his restaurant to Watson and took charge of Mr. Morgan’s real +estate business. He rose with the rising city, became a very rich +man, and now lives in a handsome residence on one of the hills that +overlook the bay. He has an excellent wife—our old friend, Annie +Raymond—and a fine family of children. His domestic happiness is +by no means the smallest part of Joe’s luck.</p> + + +<p>THE END</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12823 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/12823-h/images/cover.jpg b/12823-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..62009d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/12823-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2cd6355 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12823 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12823) diff --git a/old/12823-0.txt b/old/12823-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..edb5635 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12823-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8193 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Joe's luck or always wide awake, by +Horatio Alger, Jr. + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States +and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no +restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it +under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this +eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the +United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where +you are located before using this eBook. + +Title: Joe's luck or always wide awake + +Author: Horatio Alger, Jr. + +Release Date: December 21, 2020 [eBook #12823] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Al Haines + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOE'S LUCK OR ALWAYS WIDE +AWAKE *** + + + + + JOE’S LUCK + OR + ALWAYS WIDE AWAKE + + + BY + + HORATIO ALGER, JR. + + + AUTHOR OF + + “TONY THE TRAMP,” “SLOW AND SURE,” “THE CASH BOY,” + “MAKING HIS WAY,” “JACK’S WARD,” “DO AND DARE,” + “FACING THE WORLD,” “STRONG AND STEADY,” + “STRIVE AND SUCCEED,” ETC. + + + + + NEW YORK + THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY + 1913 + + + + +JOE’S LUCK + + + + +CHAPTER I + +INTRODUCES JOE + + +“Come here, you Joe, and be quick about it!” + +The boy addressed, a stout boy of fifteen, with an honest, +sun-browned face, looked calmly at the speaker. + +“What’s wanted?” he asked. + +“Brush me off, and don’t be all day about it!” said Oscar Norton +impatiently. + +Joe’s blue eyes flashed indignantly at the tone of the other. + +“You can brush yourself off,” he answered independently. + +“What do you mean by your impudence?” demanded Oscar angrily. “Have +you turned lazy all at once?” + +“No,” said Joe firmly, “but I don’t choose to be ordered round by +you.” + +“What’s up, I wonder? Ain’t you our servant?” + +“I am not your servant, though your father is my employer.” + +“Then you are bound to obey me--his son.” + +“I don’t see it.” + +“Then you’d better, if you know what’s best for yourself. Are you +going to brush me off?” + +“No.” + +“Look out! I can get my father to turn you off.” + +“You may try if you want to.” + +Oscar, much incensed, went to his father to report Joe’s +insubordination. While he is absent, a few words of explanation +will enlighten the reader as to Joe’s history and present position. + +Joe Mason was alone in the world. A year previous he had lost his +father, his only remaining parent, and when the father’s affairs +were settled and funeral expenses paid there was found to be just +five dollars left, which was expended for clothing for Joe. + +In this emergency Major Norton, a farmer and capitalist, offered to +provide Joe with board and clothes and three months’ schooling in +the year in return for his services. As nothing else offered, Joe +accepted, but would not bind himself for any length of time. He was +free to go whenever he pleased. + +Now there were two disagreeable things in Joe’s new place. The +first was the parsimony of Major Norton, who was noted for his +stingy disposition, and the second was the overbearing manners of +Oscar, who lost no opportunity to humiliate Joe and tyrannize over +him so far as Joe’s independent spirit would allow. It happened, +therefore, that Joe was compelled to work hard, while the promised +clothing was of the cheapest and shabbiest description. He was +compelled to go to school in patched shoes and a ragged suit, which +hurt his pride as he compared himself with Oscar, who was carefully +and even handsomely dressed. Parsimonious as his father was, he was +anxious that his only boy should appear to advantage. + +On the very day on which our story begins Oscar had insulted Joe in +a way which excited our hero’s bitter indignation. + +This is the way it happened: + +Joe, who was a general favorite on account of his good looks and +gentlemanly manners, and in spite of his shabby attire, was walking +home with Annie Raymond, the daughter of the village physician, +when Oscar came up. + +He was himself secretly an admirer of the young lady, but had never +received the least encouragement from her. It made him angry to see +his father’s drudge walking on equal terms with his own favorite, +and his coarse nature prompted him to insult his enemy. + +“Miss Raymond,” he said, lifting his hat mockingly, “I congratulate +you on the beau you have picked up.” + +Annie Raymond fully appreciated his meanness, and answered calmly: + +“I accept your congratulations, Mr. Norton.” + +This answer made Oscar angry and led him to go further than he +otherwise would. + +“You must be hard up for an escort, when you accept such a +ragamuffin as Joe Mason.” + +Joe flushed with anger. + +“Oscar Norton, do you mean to insult Miss Raymond or me,” he +demanded. + +“So you are on your high horse!” said Oscar sneeringly. + +“Will you answer my question?” + +“Yes, I will. I certainly don’t mean to insult Miss Raymond, but I +wonder at her taste in choosing my father’s hired boy to walk with.” + +“I am not responsible to you for my choice, Oscar Norton,” said +Annie Raymond, with dignity. “If my escort is poorly dressed, it is +not his fault, nor do I think the less of him for it.” + +“If your father would dress me better, I should be very glad of +it,” said Joe. “If I am a ragamuffin, it is his fault.” + +“I’ll report that to him,” said Oscar maliciously. + +“I wish you would. It would save me the trouble of asking him for +better clothes.” + +“Suppose we go on,” said Annie Raymond. + +“Certainly,” said Joe politely. + +And they walked on, leaving Oscar discomfited and mortified. + +“What a fool Annie Raymond makes of herself” he muttered. “I should +think she’d be ashamed to go round with Joe Mason.” + +Oscar would have liked to despise Annie Raymond, but it was out +of his power. She was undoubtedly the belle of the school, and he +would have been proud to receive as much notice from her as she +freely accorded to Joe. But the young lady had a mind and a will of +her own, and she had seen too much to dislike in Oscar to regard +him with favor, even if he were the son of a rich man, while she +had the good sense and discrimination to see that Joe, despite his +ragged garb, possessed sterling good qualities. + +When Oscar got home he sought his father. + +“Father,” said he, “I heard Joe complaining to Annie Raymond that +you didn’t dress him decently.” + +Major Norton looked annoyed. + +“What does the boy mean?” he said. “What does he expect?” + +“He should be dressed as well as I am,” said Oscar maliciously. + +“Quite out of the question,” said the major hastily. “Your clothes +cost a mint of money.” + +“Of course, you want me to look well, father. I am your son, and he +is only your hired boy.” + +“I don’t want folks to talk,” said the major, who was sensitive to +public opinion. “Don’t you think his clothes are good enough?” + +“Of course they are; but I’ll tell you what, father,” said Oscar, +with a sudden idea, “you know that suit of mine that I got stained +with acid?” + +“Yes, Oscar,” said the major gravely. “I ought to remember it. +It cost me thirty-four dollars, and you spoiled it by your +carelessness.” + +“Suppose you give that to Joe?” suggested Oscar. + +“He’s a good deal larger than you. It wouldn’t fit him; and, +besides, it’s stained.” + +“What right has a hired boy to object to a stain? No matter if it +is too small, he has no right to be particular.” + +“You are right, Oscar,” said the major, who was glad to be saved +the expense of a new suit for Joe. Even he had been unpleasantly +conscious that Joe’s appearance had become discreditable to him. +“You may bring it down, Oscar,” he said. + +“I dare say Joe won’t like the idea of wearing it, but a boy in his +position has no right to be proud.” + +“Of course not,” returned the major, his ruling passion gratified +by the prospect of saving the price of a suit. “When Joseph comes +home--at any rate, after he is through with his chores--you may +tell him to come in to me.” + +“All right, sir.” + +Before Oscar remembered this message, the scene narrated at the +commencement of the chapter occurred. On his way to complain to his +father, he recollected the message, and, retracing his steps, said +to Joe: + +“My father wants to see you right off.” + +This was a summons which Joe felt it his duty to obey. He +accordingly bent his steps to the room where Major Norton usually +sat. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE STAINED SUIT + + +“Oscar tells me that you wish to see me, sir,” said Joe, as he +entered the presence of his pompous employer. + +Major Norton wheeled round in his armchair and looked at Joe over +his spectacles. He looked at Joe’s clothes, too, and it did strike +him forcibly that they were very shabby. However, there was Oscar’s +stained suit; which was entirely whole and of excellent cloth. As +to the stains, what right had a boy like Joe to be particular? + +“Ahem!” said the major, clearing his throat. “Oscar tells me that +you are not satisfied with the clothes I have I given you.” + +“He has told you the truth, Major Norton,” replied Joe bluntly. +“If you will look for yourself, I think you will see why I am +dissatisfied.” + +“Joseph,” said the major, in a tone of disapproval, “you are too +free spoken. I understand you have been complaining to Doctor +Raymond’s daughter of the way I dress you.” + +“Did Oscar tell you the way that happened?” inquired Joe. + +“I apprehend he did not.” + +“When I was walking home with Miss Annie Raymond, Oscar came up and +insulted me, calling me a ragamuffin. I told him that, if I was a +ragamuffin, it was not my fault.” + +Major Norton looked disturbed. + +“Oscar was inconsiderate,” he said. “It seems to me that your +clothes are suitable to your station in life. It is not well for a +boy in your circumstances to be ‘clothed in purple and fine linen,’ +as the Scriptures express it. However, perhaps it is time for you +to have another suit.” + +Joe listened in astonishment. Was it possible that Major Norton +was going to open his heart and give him what he had long secretly +desired? + +Our hero’s delusion was soon dissipated. + +Major Norton rose from his seat, and took from a chair near-by a +stained suit, which had not yet attracted Joe’s attention. + +“Here is a suit of Oscar’s,” he said, “which is quite whole and +almost new. Oscar only wore it a month. It cost me thirty-four +dollars!” said the major impressively. + +He held it up, and Joe recognized it at once. + +“Isn’t it the suit Oscar got stained?” he asked abruptly. + +“Ahem! Yes; it is a little stained, but that doesn’t injure the +texture of the cloth.” + +As he held it up the entire suit seemed to have been sprinkled with +acid, which had changed the color in large, patches in different +parts. The wearer would be pretty sure to excite an unpleasant +degree of attention. + +Joe did not appear to be overwhelmed with the magnificence of the +gift. + +“If it is so good, why don’t Oscar wear it?” he asked. + +Major Norton regarded Joe with displeasure. + +“It cannot matter to you how Oscar chooses to dress,” he said. “I +apprehend that you and he are not on a level.” + +“He is your son, and I am your hired boy,” said Joe. “I admit that. +But I don’t see how you can ask me to wear a suit like that.” + +“I apprehend that you are unsuitably proud, Joseph.” + +“I hope not, sir; but I don’t want to attract everybody’s notice +as I walk the streets. If I had stained the suit myself, I should +have felt bound to wear it, but it was Oscar’s carelessness that +destroyed its appearance, and I don’t think I ought to suffer for +that. Besides, it is much too small for me. Let me show you.” + +Joe pulled off his coat and put on the stained one. The sleeves +were from two to three inches too short, and it was so far from +meeting in front, on account of his being much broader than Oscar, +that his shoulders seemed drawn back to meet each other behind. + +“It doesn’t exactly fit,” said the major; “but it can be let out +easily. I will send it to Miss Pearce--the village tailoress--to +fix it over for you.” + +“Thank you, Major Norton,” said Joe, in a decided tone, “but I hope +you won’t go to that expense, for I shall not be willing to wear it +under any circumstances.” + +“I cannot believe my ears,” said Major Norton, with dignified +displeasure. “How old are you, Joseph?” + +“Fifteen, sir.” + +“It is not fitting that you, a boy of fifteen, should dictate to +your employer.” + +“I don’t wish to, Major Norton, but I am not willing to wear that +suit.” + +“You are too proud. Your pride needs taking down.” + +“Major Norton,” said Joe firmly, “I should like to tell you how I +feel. You are my employer, and I am your hired boy. I try to do my +duty by you.” + +“You are a good boy to work, Joseph. I don’t complain of that.” + +“You agreed to give me board and clothing for my services.” + +“So I have.” + +“Yes, sir; but you have dressed me in such a way that I attract +attention in the street for my shabbiness. I don’t think I am very +proud, but I have been mortified! more than once when I saw people +looking at my patched clothes and shoes out at the toes. I think if +I work faithfully I ought to be dressed decently.” + +“Joseph,” said Major Norton uneasily, “you look at the thing too +one-sided. You don’t expect me to dress you like Oscar?” + +“No, sir; I don’t. If you would spend half as much for my clothes +as you do for Oscar’s I would be contented.” + +“It seems to me you are very inconsistent. Here is a suit of +clothes that cost me thirty-four dollars, which I offer you, and +you decline.” + +“You know why well enough, sir,” said Joe, “You did not tell me you +intended to dress me in Oscar’s castoff clothes, too small, and +stained at that. I would rather wear the patched suit I have on +till it drops to pieces than wear this suit.” + +“You can go, Joseph,” said Major Norton, in a tone of annoyance. “I +did not expect to find you so unreasonable. If you do not choose to +take what I offer you, you will have to go without.” + +“Very well, sir.” + +Joe left the room, his face flushed and his heart full of +indignation at the slight which had been attempted on him. + +“It is Oscar’s doings, I have no doubt,” he said to himself. “It is +like his meanness. He meant to mortify me.” + +If there had been any doubt in Joe’s mind, it would soon have been +cleared up. Oscar had been lying in wait for his appearance, and +managed to meet him as he went out into the yard. + +“Where are your new clothes?” he asked mockingly. + +“I have none,” answered Joe. + +“Didn’t my father give you a suit of mine?” + +“He offered me the suit which you stained so badly with acid.” + +“Well, it’s pretty good,” said Oscar patronizingly. “I only wore it +about a month.” + +“Why don’t you wear it longer?” + +“Because it isn’t fit for me to wear,” returned Oscar. + +“Nor for me,” said Joe. + +“You don’t mean to say you’ve declined?” exclaimed Oscar, in +surprise. + +“That is exactly what I have done.” + +“Why?” + +“You ought to know why.” + +“It is better than the one you have on.” + +“It is too small for me. Besides, it would attract general +attention.” + +“Seems to me somebody is getting proud,” sneered Oscar. “Perhaps +you think Annie Raymond wouldn’t walk with you in that suit?” + +“I think it would make no difference to her,” said Joe. “She was +willing to walk with me in this ragged suit.” + +“I don’t admire her taste.” + +“She didn’t walk with my clothes; she walked with me.” + +“A hired boy!” + +“Yes, I am a hired boy; but I don’t get very good pay.” + +“You feel above your business, that’s what’s the matter with you.” + +“I hope some time to get higher than my business,” said Joe. “I +mean to rise in the world, if I can.” + +Oscar shrugged his shoulders. + +“Perhaps you would like to be a wealthy merchant, or a member of +Congress,” he said. + +“I certainly should.” + +Oscar burst into a sneering laugh, and left Joe alone. + +Joe’s work was done, and, being left free to do as he liked, he +strolled over to the village store. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE RETURNED CALIFORNIAN + + +The village store, in the evening, was a sort of village +club-house, where not only the loungers, but a better class, who +desired to pass the evening socially, were wont to congregate. +About the center of the open space was a large box-stove, which in +winter was kept full of wood, ofttimes getting red-hot, and around +this sat the villagers. Some on wooden chairs, some on a wooden +settee, with a broken back, which was ranged on one side. + +Joe frequently came here in the evening to pass a social hour +and kill time. At the house of Major Norton he had no company. +Oscar felt above him, and did not deign to hold any intercourse +with his father’s drudge, while the housekeeper--Major Norton +being a widower--was busy about her own special work, and would +have wondered at Joe if he had sought her company. I make this +explanation because I do not wish it to be understood that Joe was +a common village lounger, or loafer. + +When Joe entered the store he found the usual company present, but +with one addition. + +This was Seth Larkin, who had just returned from California, +whither he had gone eighteen months before, and was, of course, an +object of great attention, and plied with numerous questions by his +old acquaintances in regard to the land of promise in the far West, +of which all had heard so much. + +It was in the fall of the year 1851, and so in the early days of +California. + +Seth was speaking as Joe entered. + +“Is there gold in California?” repeated Seth, apparently in answer +to a question. “I should say there was. Why, it’s chock full of it. +People haven’t begun to find out the richness of the country. It’s +the place for a poor man to go if he wants to become rich. What’s +the prospects here? I ask any one of you. A man may go working and +plodding from one year’s end to another and not have ten dollars at +the end of it. There’s some here that know that I speak the truth.” + +“How much better can a man do in California?” asked Daniel Tompkins. + +“Well, Dan,” said Seth, “it depends on the kind of man he is. If +he’s a man like you, that spends his money for rum as fast as he +gets it, I should say it’s just as well to stay here. But if he’s +willing to work hard, and to put by half he makes, he’s sure to +do well, and he may get rich. Why, I knew a man that landed in +California the same day that I did, went up to the mines, struck a +vein, and--well, how much do you think that man is worth to-day?” + +“A thousand dollars?” suggested Dan Tompkins. + +“Why, I’m worth more than that myself, and I wasn’t lucky, and had +the rheumatism for four months. You’ll have to go higher.” + +“Two thousand?” guessed Sam Stone. + +“We don’t make much account of two thousand dollars in the mines, +Sam,” said Seth. + +“It’s of some account here,” said Sam. “I’ve been workin’ ten +years, and I ain’t saved up a third of it.” + +“I don’t doubt it,” said Seth; “and it ain’t your fault, either. +Money’s scarce round here, and farmin’ don’t pay. You know what I +was workin’ at before I went out--in a shoe shop. I just about made +a poor livin’, and that was all. I didn’t have money enough to pay +my passage out, but I managed to borrow it. Well, it’s paid now, +and I’ve got something left.” + +“You haven’t told us yet how much the man made that you was talkin’ +about,” said Tom Sutter. “It couldn’t be five thousand dollars, +now, could it?” + +“I should say it could,” said Seth. + +“Was it any more?” inquired Dan Tompkins. + +“Well, boys, I s’pose I may as well tell you, and you may b’lieve +it or not, just as you like. That man is worth twenty thousand +dollars to-day.” + +There was a chorus of admiring ejaculations. + +“Twenty thousand dollars! Did you ever hear the like?” + +“Mind, boys, I don’t say it’s common to make so much money in so +short a time. There isn’t one in ten does it, but some make even +more. What I do say is, that a feller that’s industrious, and +willin’ to work, an’ rough it, and save what he makes, is sure to +do well, if he keeps well. That’s all a man has a right to expect, +or to hope for.” + +“To be sure it is.” + +“What made you come home, Seth, if you were gettin’ on so well?” +inquired one. + +“That’s a fair question,” said Seth, “and I’m willin’ to answer +it. It was because of the rheumatics. I had ’em powerful bad at +the mines, and I’ve come home to kinder recuperate, if that’s the +right word. But I’m goin’ back ag’in, you may bet high on that. No +more work in the shoe shop for me at the old rates. I don’t mean +that I’d mind bein’ a manufacturer on a big scale. That’s a little +more stiddy and easy than bein’ at the mines, but that takes more +capital than I’ve got.” + +“How much does it cost to go out there?” asked Dan Tompkins. + +“More money than you can scare together, Dan. First-class, nigh on +to three hundred dollars, I believe.” + +This statement rather dampened the ardor of more than one of the +listeners. Three hundred dollars, or even two, were beyond the +convenient reach of most of those present. They would have to +mortgage their places to get it. + +“You can go second-class for a good deal less, and you can go round +the Horn pretty cheap,” continued Seth. + +“How far away is Californy?” inquired Sam Stone. + +“By way of the isthmus, it must be as much as six thousand miles, +and it’s twice as fur, I reckon, round the Horn. I don’t exactly +know the distance.” + +“Then it’s farther away than Europe,” said Joe, who had been +listening with eager interest. + +“Of course it is,” said Seth. “Why, that’s Joe Mason, isn’t it? How +you’ve grown since I saw you.” + +“Do you think I have?” said Joe, pleased with the assurance. + +“To be sure you have. Why, you’re a big boy of your age. How old +are you?” + +“Fifteen---nearly sixteen.” + +“That’s about what I thought. Where are you livin’ now, Joe?” + +“I’m working for Major Norton.” + +Seth burst into a laugh. + +“I warrant you haven’t made your fortune yet, Joe,” he said. + +“I haven’t made the first start yet toward it.” + +“And you won’t while you work for the major. How much does he pay +you?” + +“Board and clothes.” + +“And them are the clothes?” said Seth, surveying Joe’s appearance +critically. + +“Yes.” + +“I guess the major’s tailor’s bill won’t ruin him, then. Are they +the best you’ve got?” + +“No; I’ve got a better suit for Sunday.” + +“Well, that’s something. You deserve to do better, Joe.” + +“I wish I could,” said Joe wistfully. “Is there any chance for a +boy in California, Mr. Larkin?” + +“Call me Seth. It’s what I’m used to. I don’t often use the handle +to my name. Well, there’s a chance for a boy, if he’s smart; but +he’s got to work.” + +“I should be willing to do that.” + +“Then, if you ever get the chance, it won’t do you any harm to try +your luck.” + +“How much did you say it costs to get there?” + +“Well, maybe you could get there for a hundred dollars, if you +wasn’t particular how you went.” + +A hundred dollars! It might as well have been ten thousand, as far +as Joe was concerned. He received no money wages, nor was he likely +to as long as he remained in the major’s employ. There was a shoe +shop in the village, where money wages were paid, but there was no +vacancy; and, even if there were, Joe was quite unacquainted with +the business, and it would be a good while before he could do any +more than pay his expenses. + +Joe sighed as he thought how far away was the prospect of his +being able to go to California. He could not help wishing that he +were the possessor of the magic carpet mentioned in the Arabian +tale, upon which the person seated had only to wish himself to be +transported anywhere, and he was carried there in the twinkling of +an eye. + +Joe walked home slowly, dreaming of the gold-fields on the other +side of the continent, and wishing he were there. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +JOE’S LEGACY + + +The next day was Saturday. There was no school, but this did not +lighten Joe’s labors, as he was kept at work on the farm all day. + +He was in the barn when Deacon Goodwin, a neighbor, drove up. + +Oscar was standing in front of the house, whittling out a cane from +a stick he had cut in the woods. + +“Is Joe Mason at home?” the deacon inquired. + +Oscar looked up in surprise. Why should the deacon want Joe Mason? + +“I suppose he is,” drawled Oscar. + +“Don’t you know?” + +“Probably he is in the barn,” said Oscar indifferently. + +“Will you call him? I want to see him on business.” + +Oscar was still more surprised. He was curious about the business, +but his pride revolted at the idea of being sent to summon Joe. + +“You’ll find him in the barn,” said he. + +“I don’t want to leave my horse,” said the deacon. “I will take it +as a favor if you will call him.” + +Oscar hesitated. Finally he decided to go and then return to hear +what business Joe and the deacon had together. He rather hoped that +Joe had been trespassing on the deacon’s grounds, and was to be +reprimanded. + +He opened the barn door and called out: + +“Deacon Goodwin wants you out at the gate.” + +Joe was as much surprised as Oscar. + +He followed Oscar to the front of the house and bade the deacon +good morning. + +“Oscar tells me you want to see me,” he said. + +“Yes, Joe. Do you remember your Aunt Susan?” + +“My mother’s aunt?” + +“Yes; she’s dead and buried.” + +“She was pretty old,” said Joe. + +“The old lady had a small pension,” continued the deacon, “that +just about kept her, but she managed to save a little out of it. +When the funeral expenses were paid it was found that there were +fifty-six dollars and seventy-five cents over.” + +“What’s going to be done with it?” he inquired. + +“She’s left it to you,” was the unexpected reply, “You was the +nearest relation she had, and it was her wish that whatever was +left should go to you.” + +“I’m very much obliged to her. I didn’t expect anything. I had +almost forgotten I had a great-aunt.” + +“The money has been sent to me, Joe,” continued the deacon. “I’m +ready to pay it over to you when you want it, but I hope you won’t +spend it foolish.” + +“I don’t think I shall, Deacon Goodwin.” + +“It wouldn’t take long to spend it, Joe,” said the deacon. “Do you +want me to keep it for you?” + +“I don’t know,” said Joe; “I haven’t had time to think. I’ll come +round to-night and see you.” + +“Very well, Joseph. G’lang, Dobbin!” and the deacon started his old +horse, who had completed his quarter century, along the road. + +Oscar had listened, not without interest, to the conversation. +Though he was the son of a rich man, he had not at command so large +a sum as his father’s hired boy had fallen heir to. On the whole, +he respected Joe rather more than when he was altogether penniless. + +“You’re in luck, Joe,” said he graciously. + +“Yes,” said Joe. “It’s very unexpected.” + +“You might buy yourself a new suit of clothes.” + +“I don’t intend to do that.” + +“Why not? You were wishing for one yesterday.” + +“Because it is your father’s place to keep me in clothes. That’s +the bargain I made with him.” + +“Perhaps you are right,” said Oscar. + +“I’ll tell you what you can do,” he said, after a pause. + +“What?” + +“You might buy a boat.” + +“I shouldn’t have any time to use it.” + +“You might go out with it in the evening. I would look after it in +the daytime.” + +No doubt this arrangement would be satisfactory to Oscar, who would +reap all the advantage, but Joe did not see it in a favorable light. + +“I don’t think I should care to buy a boat,” he said. + +“What do you say to buying a revolver?” + +“I think it would be better to put it on interest.” + +“You’d better get the good of it now. You might die and then what +use would the money be?” + +On the way to the deacon’s Joe fell in with Seth Larkin. + +“Well, my boy, where are you bound?” asked Seth. + +“To collect my fortune,” said Joe. + +Seth asked for an explanation and received it. + +“I’m glad for you and I wish it were more.” + +“So do I,” said Joe. + +“What for? Anything particular?” + +“Yes; if it was enough, I would go to California.” + +“And you really want to go?” + +“Yes. I suppose fifty dollars wouldn’t be enough?” + +“No; it wouldn’t,” said Seth; “but I’ll tell you what you could do.” + +“What?” + +“Go to New York and keep yourself till you got a chance to work +your passage round the Horn.” + +“So I might,” said Joe, brightening up. + +“It wouldn’t be easy, but you wouldn’t mind that.” + +“No; I wouldn’t mind that.” + +“Well, if you decide to go, come round and see me to-morrow, and +I’ll give you the best advice I can.” + +The deacon opposed Joe’s plan, but in vain. Our hero had made up +his mind. Finally the old man counted out the money and Joe put it +in an old wallet. + +The next thing was to give Major Norton warning. + +“Major Norton,” said Joe, “I should like to have you get another +boy in my place.” + +“What, Joe?” exclaimed the major. + +“I am going to leave town.” + +“Where are you going?” asked his employer. + +“First to New York and afterwards to California.” + +“Well, I declare! Is it because you ain’t satisfied with your +clothes?” + +“No, sir. I don’t see much prospect for me if I stay here and I +have heard a good deal about California.” + +“But you haven’t got any money.” + +“I have almost sixty dollars.” + +“Oh, yes; Oscar told me. You’d better stay here.” + +“No, sir; I have made up my mind.” + +“You’ll come back in a month without a cent.” + +“If I do, I’ll go to work again for you.” + +Monday morning came. Clad in his Sunday suit of cheap and rough +cloth, Joe stood on the platform at the depot. The cars came up, he +jumped aboard, and his heart beat with exultation as he reflected +that he had taken the first step toward the Land of Gold. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE COMMERCIAL HOTEL + + +Joe had never been in New York and when he arrived the bustle and +confusion at first bewildered him. + +“Have a hack, young man?” inquired a jehu. + +“What’ll you charge?” + +“A dollar and a half, and half-a-dollar for your baggage.” + +“This is all the baggage I have,” said Joe, indicating a bundle +tied in a red cotton handkerchief. + +“Then, I’ll only charge a dollar and a half,” said the hackman. + +“I’ll walk,” said Joe. “I can’t afford to pay a dollar and a half.” + +“You can’t walk; it’s too far.” + +“How far is it?” + +“Ten miles, more or less,” answered the hackman. + +“Then I shall save fifteen cents a mile,” said Joe, not much +alarmed, for he did not believe the statement. + +“If you lose your way, don’t blame me.” + +Joe made his way out of the crowd, and paused at the corner of the +next street for reflection. Finally he stopped at an apple and +peanut stand, and, as a matter of policy, purchased an apple. + +“I am from the country,” he said, “and I want to find a cheap +hotel. Can you recommend one to me?” + +“Yes,” said the peanut merchant. “I know of one where they charge a +dollar a day.” + +“Is that cheap? What do they charge at the St. Nicholas?” + +“Two dollars a day.” + +“A day?” asked Joe, in amazement. + +It must be remembered that this was over fifty years ago. Joe would +have greater cause to be startled at the prices now asked at our +fashionable hotels. + +“Well, you can go to the cheap hotel.” + +“Where is it?” + +The requisite directions were given. It was the Commercial Hotel, +located in a down-town street. + +The Commercial Hotel, now passed away, or doing business under a +changed name, was not a stylish inn. + +It was rather dark and rather dingy, but Joe did not notice that +particularly. He had never seen a fine hotel, and this structure, +being four stories in height above the offices, seemed to him +rather imposing than otherwise. + +He walked up to the desk, on which was spread out, wide open, the +hotel register. Rather a dissipated-looking clerk stood behind the +counter, picking his teeth. + +“Good morning, sir,” said Joe politely. “What do you charge to stay +here?” + +“A dollar a day,” answered the clerk. + +“Can you give me a room?” + +“I guess so, my son. Where is your trunk?” + +“I haven’t got any.” + +“Haven’t you got any baggage?” + +“Here it is.” + +The clerk looked rather superciliously at the small bundle. + +“Then you’ll have to pay in advance.” + +“All right,” said Joe. “I’ll pay a day in advance.” + +A freckle-faced boy was summoned, provided with the key of No. 161, +and Joe was directed to follow him. + +“Shall I take your bundle?” he asked. + +“No, thank you. I can carry it myself.” + +They went up-stairs, until Joe wondered when they were going to +stop. Finally the boy paused at the top floor, for the very good +reason that he could get no higher, and opened the door of 161. + +“There you are,” said the boy. “Is there anything else you want?” + +“No, thank you.” + +“I’m sorry there ain’t a bureau to keep your clothes,” said the +freckle-faced boy, glancing at Joe’s small bundle with a smile. + +“It is inconvenient,” answered Joe, taking the joke. + +“You wouldn’t like some hot water for shaving, would you?” asked +the boy, with a grin. + +“You can have some put on to heat and I’ll order it when my beard +is grown,” said Joe good-naturedly. + +“All right. I’ll tell ’em to be sure and have it ready in two or +three years.” + +“That will be soon enough. You’d better order some for yourself at +the same time.” + +“Oh, I get in hot water every day.” + +The freckle-faced boy disappeared, and Joe sat down on the bed, to +reflect a little on his position and plans. + +So here he was in New York, and on the way to California, too--that +is, he hoped so. How much can happen in a little while. Three days +before he had not dreamed of any change in his position. + +“I hope I shan’t have to go back again to Oakville. I won’t go +unless I am obliged to,” he determined. + +He washed his hands and face, and went down-stairs. He found that +dinner was just ready. It was not a luxurious meal, but, compared +with the major’s rather frugal table, there was great variety and +luxury. Joe did justice to it. + +“Folks live better in the city than they do in the country,” he +thought; “but, then, they have to pay for it. A dollar a day! Why, +that would make three hundred and sixty-five dollars a year!” + +This to Joe seemed a very extravagant sum to spend on one person’s +board and lodging. + +“Now,” thought Joe, after dinner was over, “the first thing for me +to find out is when the California steamer starts and what is the +lowest price I can go for.” + +In the barroom Joe found a file of two of the New York daily +papers, and began to search for the advertisement of the California +steamers. + +At last he found it. + +The steamer was to start in three days. Apply for passage and any +information at the company’s offices. + +“I’ll go right down there, and find out whether I’ve got money +enough to take me,” Joe decided. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JOE BUYS A TICKET + + +The office of the steamer was on the wharf from which it was to +start. Already a considerable amount of freight was lying on the +wharf ready to be loaded. Joe made his way to the office. + +“Well, boy, what’s your business?” inquired a stout man with a red +face, who seemed to be in charge. + +“Is this the office of the California steamer, sir?” + +“Yes.” + +“What is the lowest price for passage?” + +“A hundred dollars for the steerage.” + +When Joe heard this his heart sank within him. It seemed to be the +death-blow to his hopes. He had but fifty dollars, or thereabouts, +and there was no chance whatever of getting the extra fifty. + +“Couldn’t I pay you fifty dollars now and the rest as soon as I can +earn it in California?” he pleaded. + +“We don’t do business in that way.” + +“I’d be sure to pay it, sir, if I lived,” said Joe. “Perhaps you +think I am not honest.” + +“I don’t know whether you are or not,” said the agent cavalierly. +“We never do business in that way.” + +Joe left the office not a little disheartened. + +“I wish it had been a hundred dollars Aunt Susan left me,” he said +to himself. + +Joe’s spirits were elastic, however. He remembered that Seth had +never given him reason to suppose that the money he had would pay +his passage by steamer. He had mentioned working his passage in +a sailing-vessel round the Horn. Joe did not like that idea so +well, as the voyage would probably last four months, instead of +twenty-five days, and so delay his arrival. + +The afternoon slipped away almost without Joe’s knowledge. He +walked about, here and there, gazing with curious eyes at the +streets, and warehouses, and passing vehicles, and thinking what +a lively place New York was, and how different life was in the +metropolis from what it had been to him in the quiet country town +which had hitherto been his home. Somehow it seemed to wake Joe up, +and excite his ambition, to give him a sense of power which he had +never felt before. + +“If I could only get a foothold here,” thought Joe, “I should be +willing to work twice as hard as I did on the farm.” + +This was what Joe thought. I don’t say that he was correct. There +are many country boys who make a mistake in coming to the city. +They forsake quiet, comfortable homes, where they have all they +need, to enter some city counting-room, or store, at starvation +wages, with, at best, a very remote prospect of advancement and +increased risk of falling a prey to temptation in some of the +many forms which it assumes in a populous town. A boy needs to be +strong, and self-reliant, and willing to work if he comes to the +city to compete for the prizes of life. As the story proceeds, we +shall learn whether Joe had these necessary qualifications. + +When supper was over he went into the public room of the Commercial +Hotel, and took up a paper to read. There was a paragraph about +California, and some recent discoveries there, which he read with +avidity. + +Though Joe was not aware of it, he was closely observed by a +dark-complexioned man, dressed in rather a flashy manner. When our +hero laid down the paper this man commenced a conversation. + +“I take it you are a stranger in the city, my young friend?” he +observed, in an affable manner. + +“Yes, sir,” answered Joe, rather glad to have some one to speak to. +“I only arrived this morning.” + +“Indeed! May I ask from what part of the country you come?” + +“From Oakville, New Jersey.” + +“Indeed! I know the place. It is quite a charming town.” + +“I don’t know about that,” said Joe. “It’s pretty quiet and +dull--nothing going on.” + +“So you have come to the city to try your luck?” + +“I want to go to California.” + +“Oh, I see--to the gold-diggings.” + +“Have you ever been there, sir?” + +“No; but I have had many friends go there. When do you expect to +start?” + +“Why, that is what puzzles me,” Joe replied frankly. “I may not be +able to go at all.” + +“Why not?” + +“I haven’t got money enough to buy a ticket.” + +“You have got some money, haven’t you?” + +“Yes--I have fifty dollars; but I need that a hundred dollars is +the lowest price for a ticket.” + +“Don’t be discouraged, my young friend,” said the stranger, in +the most friendly manner. “I am aware that the ordinary charge +for a steerage ticket is one hundred dollars, but exceptions are +sometimes made.” + +“I don’t think they will make one in my case,” said Joe. “I told +the agent I would agree to pay the other, half as soon as I earned +it, but he said he didn’t do business in that way.” + +“Of course. You are a stranger to him, don’t you see? That makes +all the difference in the world. Now, I happen to be personally +acquainted with him. I am sure he would do me a favor. Just give me +the fifty dollars, and I’ll warrant I’ll get the ticket for you.” + +Joe was not wholly without caution, and the thought of parting with +his money to a stranger didn’t strike him favorably. Not that he +had any doubts as to his new friend’s integrity, but it didn’t seem +businesslike. + +“Can’t I go with you to the office?” he suggested. + +“I think I can succeed better in the negotiation if I am alone,” +said the stranger. “I’ll tell you what--you needn’t hand me the +money, provided you agree to take the ticket off my hands at fifty +dollars if I secure it.” + +“Certainly I will, and be very thankful to you.” + +“I always like to help young men along,” said the stranger +benevolently. “I’ll see about it to-morrow. Now, where can I meet +you?” + +“In this room. How will that do?” + +“Perfectly. I am sure I can get the ticket for you. Be sure to have +the money ready.” + +“I’ll be sure,” said Joe cheerfully. + +“And hark you, my young friend,” continued the stranger, “don’t say +a word to any one of what I am going to do for you, or I might have +other applications, which I should be obliged to refuse.” + +“Very well, sir. I will remember.” + +Punctually at four the next day the stranger entered the room, +where Joe was already awaiting him. + +“Have you succeeded?” asked Joe eagerly. + +The stranger nodded. + +“Let us go up to your room and complete our business. For reasons +which I have already mentioned, I prefer that the transaction +should be secret.” + +“All right, sir.” + +Joe got his key, and led the way up-stairs. + +“I had a little difficulty with the agent,” said the stranger; “but +finally he yielded, out of old friendship.” He produced a large +card, which read thus: + + =CALIFORNIA STEAMSHIP COMPANY. + THE BEARER + Is Entitled to One Steerage Passage + FROM + NEW YORK TO SAN FRANCISCO + STEAMER COLUMBUS.= + +Below this was printed the name of the agent. Joe paid over the +money joyfully. + +“I am very much obliged to you,” he said gratefully. + +“Don’t mention it,” said the stranger, pocketing the fifty dollars. +“Good day! Sorry to leave you, but I am to meet a gentleman at +five.” + +He went down-stairs, and left Joe alone. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JOE GETS INTO TROUBLE + + +“How lucky I have been,” thought Joe, in the best of spirits. +“There wasn’t one chance in ten of my succeeding, and yet I have +succeeded. Everything has turned out right. If I hadn’t met this +man, I couldn’t have got a ticket at half price.” + +Joe found that after paying his hotel expenses, he should have a +dollar left over. This would be rather a small sum to start with in +California, but Joe didn’t trouble himself much about that. + +In the course of the day Joe found himself in the upper part of +the Bowery. It seemed to him a very lively street, and he was much +interested in looking in at the shop windows as he passed. + +He was standing before a window, when a stone from some quarter +struck the pane and shivered it in pieces. + +Joe was startled, and was gazing at the scene of havoc in +bewilderment, when a stout German, the proprietor, rushed out and +seized him by the collar. + +“Aha! I have you, you young rascal!” he exclaimed furiously. “I’ll +make you pay for this!” + +By this time Joe had recovered his senses. + +“Let me alone!” he exclaimed. + +“I let you know!” exclaimed the angry man. “You break my window! +You pay me five dollar pretty quick, or I send you to prison!” + +“I didn’t break your window! It’s a lie!” + +“You tell me I lie?” shouted the angry German. “First you break my +window, then you tell me I lie! You, one bad boy--you one loafer!” + +“I don’t know who broke your window,” said Joe, “but I tell you I +didn’t. I was standing here, looking in, when, all at once, I heard +a crash.” + +“You take me for one fool, perhaps,” said his captor, puffing with +excitement. “You want to get away, hey?” + +“Yes, I do.” + +“And get no money for my window?” + +By this time a crowd had collected around the chief actors in this +scene. They were divided in opinion. + +“Don’t he look wicked, the young scamp?” said a thin-visaged female +with a long neck. + +“Yes,” said her companion. “He’s one of them street rowdies that go +around doin’ mischief. They come around and pull my bell, and run +away, the villians!” + +“What’s the matter, my boy?” asked a tall man with sandy hair, +addressing himself to Joe in a friendly tone. + +“This man says I broke his window.” + +“How was it? Did you break it?” + +“No, sir. I was standing looking in, when a stone came from +somewhere and broke it.” + +“Look here, sir,” said the sandy-haired man, addressing himself +to the German, “what reason have you for charging this boy with +breaking your window?” + +“He stood shoost in front of it,” said the German. + +“If he had broken it, he would have run away. Didn’t that occur to +you?” + +“Some one broke mine window,” said the German. + +“Of course; but a boy who threw a stone must do so from a distance, +and he wouldn’t be likely to run up at once to the broken window.” + +“Of course not. The man’s a fool!” were the uncomplimentary remarks +of the bystanders, who a minute before had looked upon Joe as +undoubtedly guilty. + +“You’ve got no case at all,” said Joe’s advocate. “Let go the +boy’s collar, or I shall advise him to charge you with assault and +battery.” + +“Maybe you one friend of his?” said the German. + +“I never saw the boy before in my life,” said the other, “but I +don’t want him falsely accused.” + +“Somebody must pay for my window.” + +“That’s fair; but it must be the boy or man that broke it, not my +young friend here, who had no more to do with it than myself. I +sympathize with you, and wish you could catch the scamp that did +it.” + +At that moment a policeman came up. + +“What’s the matter?” he asked. + +“My window was broke--dat’s what’s de matter.” + +“Who broke it?” asked the policeman. + +“I caught dat boy standing outside,” pointing to Joe. + +“Aha, you young rascal! I’ve caught you, have I? I’ve had my eye on +you for weeks!” + +And Joe, to his dismay, found himself collared anew. + +“I’ve only been in the city two days,” said Joe. + +“Take him to jail!” exclaimed the German. + +And the policeman was about to march off poor Joe, when a voice of +authority stayed him. + +“Officer, release that boy!” said the sandy-haired man sternly. + +“I’ll take you along, too, if you interfere.” + +“Release that boy!” repeated the other sternly; “and arrest the +German for assault and battery. I charge him with assaulting this +boy!” + +“Who are you?” demanded the officer insolently. + +“My name is ----, and I am one of the new police commissioners,” +said the sandy-haired man quietly. + +Never was there a quicker change from insolence to fawning. + +“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir,” said the officer, instantly releasing +Joe. “I didn’t know you.” + +“Nor your duty, either, it appears,” said the commissioner sternly. +“Without one word of inquiry into the circumstances, you were about +to arrest this boy. A pretty minister of justice you are!” + +“Shall I take this man along, sir?” asked the policeman, quite +subdued. + +At this suggestion the bulky Teuton hurried into his shop, +trembling with alarm. With great difficulty he concealed himself +under the counter. + +“You may let him go this time. He has some excuse for his conduct, +having suffered loss by the breaking of his window. As for you, +officer, unless you are more careful in future, you will not long +remain a member of the force.” + +The crowd disappeared, only Joe and his advocate remaining behind. + +“I am grateful to you, sir, for your kindness,” said Joe. “But for +you I should have been carried to the station-house.” + +“It is fortunate I came along just as I did. Are you a stranger in +the city?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“You must be careful not to run into danger. There are many perils +in the city for the inexperienced.” + +“Thank you, sir. I shall remember your advice.” + +The next day, about two hours before the time of sailing, Joe went +down to the wharf. + +As he was going on board a man stopped him. + +“Have you got a ticket?” he asked. + +“Yes, sir,” said Joe, “a steerage ticket. There it is.” + +“Where did you get this?” asked the man. + +Joe told him. + +“How much did you pay for it?” + +“Fifty dollars.” + +“Then you have lost your money, for it is a bogus ticket. You can’t +travel on it.” + +Joe stared at the other in blank dismay. The earth seemed to be +sinking under him. He realized that he had been outrageously +swindled, and that he was farther from going to California than +ever. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +JOE’S LUCK CHANGES + + +The intelligence that his ticket was valueless came to Joe like +a thunderbolt from a clear sky. The minute before he was in high +spirits--his prospects seemed excellent and his path bright. + +“What shall I do?” he ejaculated. + +“I can’t tell you,” said the officer. “One thing is clear--you +can’t go to California on that ticket.” + +Poor Joe! For the moment hope was dead within his breast. He had +but one dollar left and that was only half the amount necessary +to carry him back to the village where we found him at the +commencement of our story. Even if he were able to go back, he felt +he would be ashamed to report the loss of his money. The fact that +he had allowed himself to be swindled mortified him not a little. +He would never hear the last of it if he returned to Oakville. + +“No; I wouldn’t go back if I could,” he decided. + +“Wouldn’t I like to get hold of the man that sold me the ticket!” + +He had hardly given mental expression to this wish when it was +gratified. The very man passed him and was about to cross the +gangplank into the steamer. Joe’s eyes flashed, and he sprang +forward and seized the man by the arm. + +The swindler’s countenance changed when he recognized Joe, but he +quickly decided upon his course. + +“What do you want, Johnny?” he asked composedly. + +“What do I want? I want my fifty dollars back.” + +“I don’t know what you are talking about.” + +“You sold me a bogus ticket for fifty dollars,” said Joe stoutly. +“Here it is. Take it back and give me my money.” + +“The boy must be crazy,” said the swindler. + +“Did you sell him that ticket?” inquired the officer. + +“Never saw him before in my life.” + +“Ain’t you mistaken, boy?” asked the officer. + +“No, sir. This is the very man.” + +“Have you any business here?” asked the officer. + +“Yes,” said the man; “I’ve taken a steerage ticket to San +Francisco. Here it is.” + +“All right. Go in.” + +He tore himself from Joe’s grasp and went on board the steamer. Our +hero, provoked, was about to follow him, when the officer said: + +“Stand back! You have no ticket.” + +“That man bought his ticket with my money.” + +“That is nothing to me,” said the officer. “It may be so, or you +may be mistaken.” + +“I am not mistaken,” said Joe. + +“You can report it to the police--that is, if you think you can +prove it. Now, stand back!” + +Poor Joe! He had been worsted in the encounter with this +arch-swindler. He would sail for San Francisco on the Columbus. +Perhaps he would make his fortune there, while Joe, whom he had so +swindled, might, within three days, be reduced to beggary. + +Joe felt that his confidence in human nature was badly shaken. +Injustice and fraud seemed to have the best of it in this world, so +far as his experience went, and it really seemed as if dishonesty +were the best policy. It is a hard awakening for a trusting boy, +when he first comes in contact with selfishness and corruption. + +Joe fell back because he was obliged to. He looked around, hoping +that he might somewhere see a policeman, for he wanted to punish +the scoundrel to whom he owed his unhappiness and loss. But, as +frequently happens, when an officer is wanted none is to be seen. + +Joe did not leave the wharf. Time was not of much value to him, and +he decided that he might as well remain and see the steamer start +on which he had fondly hoped to be a passenger. + +Meanwhile, the preparations for departure went steadily forward. +Trunks arrived and were conveyed on board; passengers, accompanied +by their friends, came, and all was hurry and bustle. + +Two young men, handsomely dressed and apparently possessed of +larger means than the great majority of the passengers, got out of +a hack and paused close to where Joe was standing. + +“Dick,” said one, “I’m really sorry you are not going with me. I +shall feel awfully lonely without you.” + +“I am very much disappointed, Charlie, but duty will keep me at +home. My father’s sudden, alarming sickness has broken up all my +plans.” + +“Yes, Dick, of course you can’t go.” + +“If my father should recover, in a few weeks, I will come out and +join you, Charlie.” + +“I hope you may be able to, Dick. By the way, how about your +ticket?” + +“I shall have to lose it, unless the company will give me another +in place of it.” + +“They ought to do it.” + +“Yes, but they are rather stiff about it. I would sell it for a +hundred dollars.” + +Joe heard this and his heart beat high. + +He pressed forward, and said eagerly: + +“Will you sell it to me for that?” + +The young man addressed as Dick looked, in surprise, at the poorly +dressed boy who had addressed him. + +“Do you want to go to California?” he asked. + +“Yes, sir,” said Joe. “I am very anxious to go.” + +“Do I understand you to offer a hundred dollars for my ticket?” + +“Yes, sir; but I can’t pay you now.” + +“When do you expect to be able to pay me, then?” + +“Not till I’ve earned the money in California.” + +“Have you thought before of going?” + +“Yes, sir. Until an hour ago I thought that it was all arranged +that I should go. I came down here and found that the ticket I had +bought was a bogus one, and that I had been swindled out of my +money.” + +“That was a mean trick,” said Dick Scudder indignantly. “Do you +know the man that cheated you?” + +“Yes; he is on board the steamer.” + +“How much money have you got left?” + +“A dollar.” + +“Only a dollar? And you are not afraid to land in California with +this sum?” + +“No, sir. I shall go to work at once.” + +“Charlie,” said Dick, turning to his friend, “I will do as you say. +Are you willing to take this boy into your stateroom in my place?” + +“Yes,” said Charles Folsom promptly. “He looks like a good boy. I +accept him as my roommate.” + +“All right,” said the other. “My boy, what is your name?” + +“Joe Mason.” + +“Well, Joe, here is my ticket. If you are ever able to pay a +hundred dollars for this ticket, you may pay it to my friend, +Charles Folsom. Now, I advise you both to be getting aboard, as it +is nearly time for the steamer to sail. I won’t go on with you, +Charlie, as I must go back to my father’s bedside.” + +“Good-by, sir. God bless you!” said Joe gratefully. “Good-by, Joe, +and good luck!” + +As they went over the plank, the officer, recognizing Joe, said +roughly: + +“Stand back, boy! Didn’t I tell you you couldn’t go aboard without +a ticket?” + +“Here is my ticket,” said Joe. + +“A first-class ticket!” exclaimed the officer, in amazement. “Where +did you get it?” + +“I bought it,” answered Joe. + +“I shall go to California, after all!” thought our hero exultingly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE FIRST DAY ON BOARD + + +“We will look up our stateroom first, Joe,” said his new friend. +“It ought to be a good one.” + +The stateroom proved to be No. 16, very well located and spacious +for a stateroom. But to Joe it seemed very small for two persons. +He was an inexperienced traveler and did not understand that life +on board ship is widely different from life on shore. His companion +had been to Europe and was used to steamer life. + +“I think, Joe,” said he, “that I shall put you in the top berth. +The lower berth is considered more desirable, but I claim it on the +score of age and infirmity.” + +“You don’t look very old, or infirm,” said Joe. + +“I am twenty-three. And you?” + +“Fifteen--nearly sixteen.” + +“I have a stateroom trunk, which will just slip in under my berth. +Where is your luggage?” + +Joe looked embarrassed. + +“I don’t know but you will feel ashamed of me,” he said; “but the +only extra clothes I have are tied up in this handkerchief.” + +Charles Folsom whistled. + +“Well,” said he, “you are poorly provided. What have you got +inside?” + +“A couple of shirts, three collars, two handkerchiefs, and a pair +of stockings.” + +“And you are going a journey of thousands of miles! But never +mind,” he said kindly. “I am not much larger than you, and, if you +need it, I can lend you. Once in California, you will have less +trouble than if you were loaded down with clothes. I must get you +to tell me your story when there is time.” + +They came on deck just in time to see the steamer swing out of the +dock. + +There were some of the passengers with sober faces. They had +bidden farewell to friends and relatives whom they might not see +for years--perhaps never again. They were going to a new country, +where hardships undoubtedly awaited them, and where they must take +their chances of health and success. Some, too, feared seasickness, +a malady justly dreaded by all who have ever felt its prostrating +effects. But Joe only felt joyful exhilaration. + +“You look happy, Joe,” said young Folsom. + +“I feel so,” said Joe. + +“Are you hoping to make your fortune in California?” + +“I am hoping to make a living,” said Joe. + +“Didn’t you make a living here at home?” + +“A poor living, with no prospects ahead. I didn’t mind hard work +and poor clothes, if there had been a prospect of something better +by and by.” + +“Tell me your story. Where were you living?” Charles Folsom +listened attentively. + +“Major Norton didn’t appear disposed to pamper you, or bring you +up in luxury, that’s a fact. It would have been hard lines if, on +account of losing your aunt’s legacy, you had been compelled to go +back to Oakville.” + +“I wouldn’t have gone,” said Joe resolutely. + +“What would you have done?” + +“Stayed in New York, and got a living somehow, even if I had to +black boots in the street.” + +“I guess you’ll do. You’ve got the right spirit. It takes boys and +men like you for pioneers.” + +Joe was gratified at his companion’s approval. + +“Now,” said Folsom, “I may as well tell you my story. I am the +son of a New York merchant who is moderately rich. I entered the +counting-room at seventeen, and have remained there ever since, +with the exception of four months spent in Europe.” + +“If you are rich already, why do you go out to California?” asked +Joe. + +“I am not going to the mines; I am going to prospect a little for +the firm. Some day San Francisco will be a large city. I am going +to see how soon it will pay for our house to establish a branch +there.” + +“I see,” said Joe. + +“I shall probably go out to the mines and take a general survey of +the country; but, as you see, I do not go out to obtain employment.” + +“It must be jolly not to have to work,” said Joe, “but to have +plenty of money to pay your expenses.” + +“Well, I suppose it is convenient. I believe you haven’t a large +cash surplus?” + +“I have a dollar.” + +“You’ve got some pluck to travel so far away from home with such a +slender capital, by Jove!” + +“I don’t know that it’s pluck. It’s necessity.” + +“Something of both, perhaps. Don’t you feel afraid of what may +happen?” + +“No,” said Joe. “California is a new country, and there must be +plenty of work. Now, I am willing to work and I don’t believe I +shall starve.” + +“That’s the way to feel, Joe. At the worst, you have me to fall +back upon. I won’t see you suffer.” + +“It is very lucky for me. I hope I shan’t give you any trouble.” + +“If you do, I’ll tell you of it,” said Folsom, laughing. “The fact +is, I feel rather as if I were your guardian. An odd feeling that, +as hitherto I have been looked after by others. Now it is my turn +to assume authority.” + +“You will find me obedient,” said Joe, smiling. “Seriously, I am so +inexperienced in the way of the world that I shall consider it a +great favor if you will give me any hints you may think useful to +me.” + +Folsom became more and more pleased with his young charge. He saw +that he was manly, amiable, and of good principles, with only one +great fault--poverty--which he was quite willing to overlook. + +They selected their seats in the saloon, and were fortunate enough +to be assigned to the captain’s table. Old travelers know that +those who sit at this table are likely to fare better than those +who are farther removed. + +While Folsom was walking the deck with an old friend, whom he had +found among the passengers, Joe went on an exploring expedition. + +He made his way to that portion of the deck appropriated to the +steerage passengers. Among them his eye fell on the man who +swindled him. + +“You here!” exclaimed the fellow in amazement. + +“Yes,” said Joe, “I am here.” + +“I thought you said your ticket wasn’t good?” + +“It wasn’t, as you very well know.” + +“I don’t know anything about it. How did you smuggle yourself +aboard?” + +“I didn’t smuggle myself aboard at all. I came on like the rest of +the passengers.” + +“Why haven’t I seen you before?” + +“I am not a steerage passenger. I am traveling first-class.” + +“You don’t mean it!” ejaculated the fellow, thoroughly astonished. +“You told me you hadn’t any more money.” + +“So I did, and that shows that you were the man that sold me the +bogus ticket.” + +“Nothing of the kind,” said the other, but he seemed taken aback +by Joe’s charge. “Well, all I can say is, that you know how to get +round. When a man or boy can travel first-class without a cent of +money, he’ll do.” + +“I wouldn’t have come at all if I had had to swindle a poor boy out +of his money,” said Joe. + +Joe walked off without receiving an answer. He took pains to +ascertain the name of the man who had defrauded him. He was entered +on the passenger-list as Henry Hogan. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE DETECTED THIEF + + +“Do you expect to be seasick, Joe?” + +“I don’t know, Mr. Folsom. This is the first time I have ever been +at sea.” + +“I have crossed the Atlantic twice, and been sick each time. I +suppose I have a tendency that way.” + +“How does it feel?” asked Joe curiously. + +Folsom laughed. + +“It cannot be described,” he answered. + +“Then I would rather remain ignorant,” said Joe. + +“You are right. This is a case where ignorance is bliss decidedly.” + +Twenty-four hours out Folsom’s anticipations were realized. He +experienced nausea and his head swam. + +Returning from a walk on deck, Joe found his guardian lying down in +the stateroom. + +“Is anything the matter, Mr. Folsom?” + +“Nothing but what I expected. The demon of the sea has me in his +gripe.” + +“Can I do anything for you?” + +“Nothing at present, Joe. What art can minister to a stomach +diseased? I must wait patiently, and it will wear off. Don’t you +feel any of the symptoms?” + +“Oh, no--I feel bully,” said Joe. “I’ve got a capital appetite.” + +“I hope you will be spared. It would be dismal for both of us to be +groaning with seasickness.” + +“Shall I stay with you?” + +“No--go on deck. That is the best way to keep well. My sickness +won’t last more than a day or two.” + +The young man’s expectations were realized. After forty-eight hours +he recovered from his temporary indisposition and reappeared on +deck. + +He found that his young companion, had made a number of +acquaintances, and had become a general favorite through his frank +and pleasant manners. + +“I think you’ll get on, Joe,” said he. “You make friends easily.” + +“I try to do it,” said Joe modestly. + +“You are fast getting over your country greenness. Of course you +couldn’t help having a share of it, having never lived outside of a +small country village.” + +“I am glad you think so, Mr. Folsom. I suppose I was very green and +I haven’t got over it yet, but in six months I hope to get rid of +it wholly.” + +“It won’t take six months at the rate you are advancing.” + +Day succeeded day and Joe was not sick at all. He carried a good +appetite to every meal and entered into the pleasures of sea life +with zest. He played shuffle-board on deck, guessed daily the +ship’s run, was on the alert for distant sails, and managed in one +way or another to while away the time cheerfully. + +They had got into the Gulf of Mexico, when, one day, there was an +unwonted commotion in the steerage. + +A poor German had lost forty dollars, the entire capital he was +carrying with him to the new country. + +“Some tief has rob me,” he complained, in accents of mingled grief +and anger. “He has rob me of all my gold. He has not left me one +cent.” + +“When did you miss the money?” inquired the first officer. + +“Just now,” said the poor German. + +“When did you see it last?” + +“Last night when I went to mine bed.” + +“Did you take off your clothes?” + +“No.” + +“What men sleep near you?” + +The German pointed to two. The first was a German. + +“But he would not rob me. He is mine friend,” he said. “He is +Fritz.” + +“Who is the other man?” + +The German pointed to Henry Hogan, the same man who had defrauded +Joe. + +“The man’s a fool,” said Hogan. “Does he mean to say a gentleman +like me would steal his paltry money?” + +“He hasn’t said so,” said the first officer quietly. “He only said +that you slept near him.” + +“He’d better not accuse me,” blustered Hogan. + +The officer was a judge of human nature, and Hogan’s manner and +words made him suspect that he was really the guilty party. + +“My man,” said he, “you are making a fuss before you are accused. +No charge has been made against you. The man’s money has been +taken, and some one must have taken it.” + +“I don’t believe he ever had any,” said Hogan. + +“Can you prove that you had the money?” asked the officer, +addressing the German. “Has any one on board seen it in your +possession?” + +An Irishman named Riley came forward. + +“That can I do,” said he. “It was only yesterday morning that I saw +the man counting his money.” + +“In what denomination was the money?” + +Pat Riley scratched his head. + +“Sure I didn’t know that money belonged to any denomination, sir.” + +The officer smiled. + +“I mean, was it in five, or ten, or twenty dollar pieces.” + +“There was four tens, sir--four gould eagles.” + +“Is that right?” inquired the officer, turning to the German. + +“Yes, sir, that’s what I had.” + +“Then,” said the officer, “it seems clearly proved that our German +friend here had the money he claims. Now, I suggest that the two +men he has said occupied bunks nearest to him shall be searched. +But first, if the man who has taken the money will come forward +voluntarily and return the same, I will guarantee that he shall +receive no punishment.” + +He paused for a brief space and looked at Hogan. + +Hogan seemed uneasy, but stolid and obstinate. + +“Since my offer is not accepted,” said the officer, “let the two +men be searched.” + +Fritz, the young German, came forward readily. + +“I am ready,” he said. + +“I am not,” said Hogan. “I protest against this outrage. It is an +infringement of my rights as an American citizen. If any one dares +to lay hands on me, I will have him arrested as soon as we reach +California.” + +His threat produced no effect upon the officer. At a signal two +sailors seized him, and, despite his struggles, turned his pockets +inside out. + +Among the contents were found four gold eagles. + +“It is my money!” exclaimed the poor German. + +“You lie! The money is mine!” said Hogan furiously. + +“There was a cross, which I scratched with a pin, on one piece,” +said the German. “Look! see if it is there.” + +Examination was made, and the scratch was found just as he +described it. + +“The money evidently belongs to the German,” said the officer. +“Give it to him.” + +“You are robbing me of my money,” said Hogan. + +“Look here, my friend, you had better be quiet,” said the officer +significantly, “or I will have you tied up to keep out of mischief. +You are getting off very well as it is. I have no doubt you have +been up to other dishonest tricks before this one.” + +“That is true, sir,” said Joe, speaking up for the first time. +“This is the same man who sold me a bogus ticket, two days before +we sailed, for fifty dollars.” + +“It’s a lie!” said Hogan. “I’ll be even with you some time, boy, +for that lie of yours.” + +“I don’t care for the threats of such a scoundrel as you are,” said +Joe undauntedly. + +“Look out for him, Joe,” said Folsom. “He will try to do you a +mischief some time.” + +He would have been confirmed in his opinion had he observed the +glance of hatred with which the detected thief followed his young +ward. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +JOE ARRIVES IN SAN FRANCISCO + + +At the isthmus they exchanged steamers, crossing the narrow neck of +land on the backs of mules. To-day the journey is more rapidly and +comfortably made in a railroad-car. Of the voyage on the Pacific +nothing need be said. The weather was fair, and it was uneventful. + +It was a beautiful morning in early September when they came in +sight of the Golden Gate, and, entering the more placid waters of +San Francisco Bay, moored at a short distance from the town. + +“What do you think of it, Joe?” asked Charles Folsom. + +“I don’t know,” said Joe slowly. “Is this really San Francisco?” + +“It is really San Francisco.” + +“It doesn’t seem to be much built up yet,” said Joe. + +In fact, the appearance of the town would hardly suggest the +stately capital of to-day, which looks out like a queen on the bay +and the ocean, and on either side opens her arms to the Eastern +and Western continents. It was a town of tents and one-story +cabins, irregularly and picturesquely scattered over the hillside, +with here and there a sawmill, where now stand some of the most +prominent buildings of the modern city. For years later there was +a large mound of sand where now the stately Palace Hotel covers +two and a half acres. Where now stand substantial business blocks, +a quarter of a century since there appeared only sandy beaches or +mud-flats, with here and there a wooden pier reaching out into the +bay. Only five years before the town contained but seventy-nine +buildings--thirty-one frame, twenty-six adobe, and the rest +shanties. It had grown largely since then, but even now was only a +straggling village, with the air of recent settlement. + +“You expected something more, Joe, didn’t you?” + +“Yes,” admitted Joe. + +“You must remember how new it is. Ten years, nay, five, will work a +great change in this straggling village. We shall probably live to +see it a city of a hundred thousand inhabitants.” + +The passengers were eager to land. They were tired of the long +voyage and anxious to get on shore. They wanted to begin making +their fortunes. + +“What are your plans, Joe?” asked Charles Folsom. + +“I shall accept the first job that offers,” said Joe. “I can’t +afford to remain idle long with my small capital.” + +“Joe,” said the young man seriously, “let me increase your capital +for you. You can pay me back, you know, when it is convenient. +Here, take this gold piece.” + +Our young hero shook his head. + +“Thank you, Mr. Folsom,” he said, “you are very kind, but I think +it will be better for me to shift on what I have. Then I shall have +to go to work at once, and shall get started in my new career.” + +“Suppose you can’t find work?” suggested Folsom. + +“I will find it,” said Joe resolutely. + +“Perhaps we might take lodgings together, Joe.” + +“I can’t afford it,” said Joe. “You’re a gentleman of property, and +I’m a poor boy who has his fortune to make. For the present I must +expect to rough it.” + +“Well, Joe, perhaps you are right. At any rate, I admire your pluck +and independent spirit.” + +There was a motley crowd collected on the pier and on the beach +when Joe and his friend landed. Rough, bearded men, in Mexican +sombreros and coarse attire--many in shirt-sleeves and with their +pantaloons tucked in their boots--watched the new arrivals with +interest. + +“You needn’t feel ashamed of your clothes, Joe,” said Folsom, with +a smile. “You are better dressed than the majority of those we see.” + +Joe looked puzzled. + +“They don’t look as if they had made their fortunes,” he said. + +“Don’t judge by appearances. In a new country people are careless +of appearances. Some of these rough fellows, no doubt, have their +pockets full of gold.” + +At this moment a rough-looking fellow stepped forward and said +heartily: + +“Isn’t this Charles Folsom?” + +“Yes,” answered Folsom, puzzled. + +“You don’t remember me?” said the other, laughing. + +“Not I.” + +“Not remember Harry Carter, your old chum?” + +“Good Heaven!” exclaimed Folsom, surveying anew the rough figure +before him. “You don’t mean to say you are Harry Carter?” + +“The same, at your service.” + +“What a transformation! Why, you used to be rather a swell and +now----” + +“Now I look like a barbarian.” + +“Well, rather,” said Folsom, laughing. + +“You want me to explain? Such toggery as I used to wear would be +the height of folly at the mines.” + +“I hope you have had good luck,” said Folsom. + +“Pretty fair,” said Carter, in a tone of satisfaction. “My pile has +reached five thousand dollars.” + +“And how long have you been at work?” + +“A year. I was a bookkeeper in New York on a salary of fifteen +hundred dollars a year. I used to spend all my income--the more +fool I--till the last six months, when I laid by enough to bring me +out here.” + +“Then you have really bettered yourself?” + +“I should say so. I could only save up five hundred dollars a year +at the best in New York. Here I have crowded ten years into one.” + +“In spite of your large outlay for clothes?” + +“I see you will have your joke. Now, what brings you out here? Are +you going to the mines?” + +“Presently, but not to dig. I came to survey the country.” + +“Let me do what I can for you.” + +“I will. First, what hotel shall I go to?” + +“There is the Leidesdorff House, on California Street. I’ll lead +you there.” + +“Thank you. Will you come, Joe?” + +“Yes, I will go to find out where it is.” + +The three bent their steps to the hotel referred to. It was a +shanty compared with the magnificent hotels which now open their +portals to strangers, but the charge was ten dollars a day and the +fare was of the plainest. + +“I guess I won’t stop here,” said Joe, “My money wouldn’t keep me +here more than an hour or two.” + +“At any rate, Joe, you must dine with me,” said Folsom. “Then you +may start out for yourself.” + +“You must dine with me, both of you,” said Carter. + +Folsom saw that he was in earnest, and accepted. + +The dinner was plain but abundant, and all three did justice to it. +Joe did not know till afterward that the dinner cost five dollars +apiece. + +After dinner the two friends sat down to talk over old times and +mutual friends, but Joe felt that there was no time for him to +lose. He had his fortune to make. Still more important, he had his +living to make, and in a place where dollars were held as cheap as +dimes in New York or Boston. + +So, emerging into the street, with his small bundle under his arm, +he bent his steps as chance directed. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +JOE FINDS A JOB + + +Joe knew nothing about the streets or their names. Chance brought +him to Clay Street, between what is now Montgomery and Kearny +Streets. Outside of a low wooden building, which appeared to be a +restaurant, was a load of wood. + +“I wonder if I couldn’t get the chance to saw and split that wood?” +thought Joe. + +It would not do to be bashful. So he went in. + +A stout man in an apron was waiting on the guests. Joe concluded +that this must be the proprietor. + +“Sit down, boy,” said he, “if you want some dinner.” + +“I’ve had my dinner,” said Joe. “Don’t you want that wood outside +sawed and split?” + +“Yes.” + +“Let me do it.” + +“Go ahead.” + +There was a saw and saw-horse outside. The work was not new to Joe, +and he went at it vigorously. No bargain had been made, but Joe +knew so little of what would be considered a fair price that in +this first instance he chose to leave it to his employer. + +As he was at work Folsom and his friend passed by. + +“Have you found a job already?” said Folsom. + +“Yes, sir.” + +“You have kept your promise, Joe. You said you would take the first +job that offered.” + +“Yes, Mr. Folsom; I meant what I said.” + +“Come round to the Leidesdorff House this evening and tell me how +you made out.” + +“Thank you, sir, I will.” + +“That seems a smart boy,” said Carter. + +“Yes, he is. Help him along if you have a chance.” + +“I will. I like his pluck.” + +“He has no false pride. He is ready to do anything.” + +“Everybody is here. You know Jim Graves, who used to have his +shingle up as a lawyer on Nassau Street?” + +“Yes. Is he here?” + +“He has been here three months. What do you think he is doing?” + +“I couldn’t guess.” + +“I don’t think you could. He has turned drayman.” Charles Folsom +gazed at his friend in wonder. + +“Turned drayman!” he exclaimed. “Is he reduced to that?” + +“Reduced to that! My dear fellow, you don’t understand the use of +language. Graves is earning fifteen dollars a day at his business, +and I don’t believe he made that in New York in a month.” + +“Well, it is a strange state of society. Does he mean to be a +drayman all his life?” + +“Of course not. A year hence he may be a capitalist, or a lawyer +again. Meanwhile he is saving money.” + +“He is a sensible man, after all; but, you see, Carter, it takes +time to adjust my ideas to things here. The first surprise was your +rough appearance.” + +“There is one advantage my rough life has brought me,” said Carter. +“It has improved my health. I was given to dyspepsia when I lived +in New York. Now I really believe I could digest a tenpenny nail, +or--an eating-house mince pie, which is more difficult.” + +“You have steep hills in San Francisco.” + +“Yes, it is something of a climb to the top of Clay Street Hill. +When you get to the top you get a fine view, though.” + +Now the hill may be ascended in cars drawn up the steeply graded +sides by an endless rope running just below the surface. No such +arrangement had been thought of then. Folsom gave out when he had +completed half the ascent. + +“I’ll be satisfied with the prospect from here,” he said. + +Meanwhile Joe kept steadily at his task. + +“It will take me three hours and a half, possibly four,” he said +to himself, after a survey of the pile. “I wonder what pay I shall +receive.” + +While thus employed many persons passed him. + +One among them paused and accosted him. + +“So you have found work already?” he said. + +Looking up, Joe recognized Harry Hogan, the man who had swindled +him. He didn’t feel inclined to be very social with this man. + +“Yes,” said he coldly. + +“Rather strange work for a first-class passenger.” + +He envied Joe because he had traveled first-class, while he had +thought himself fortunate, with the help his dishonesty gave him, +in being able to come by steerage. + +“It is very suitable employment for a boy who has no money,” said +Joe. + +“How much are you going to be paid for the job?” asked Hogan, with +sudden interest, for ten dollars constituted his only remaining +funds. + +If his theft on shipboard had not been detected he would have been +better provided. + +“I don’t know,” said Joe shortly. + +“You didn’t make any bargain, then?” + +“No.” + +“What are you going to do next?” inquired Hogan. + +“I don’t know,” said Joe. + +Hogan finally moved off. + +“I hate that boy,” he soliloquized. “He puts on airs for a country +boy. So he’s getting too proud to talk to me, is he? We’ll see, Mr. +Joseph Mason.” + +Joe kept on till his task was completed, put on his coat and went +into the restaurant. + +It was the supper-hour. + +“I’ve finished the job,” said Joe, in a businesslike tone. + +The German took a look at Joe’s work. + +“You did it up good,” he said. “How much you want?” + +“I don’t know. What would be a fair price?” + +“I will give you some supper and five dollars.” + +Joe could hardly believe his ears. Five dollars and a supper for +four hours’ work! Surely he had come to the Land of Gold in very +truth. + +“Will dat do?” + +“Oh, yes,” said Joe. “I didn’t expect so much.” + +“You shouldn’t tell me dat. It isn’t business.” + +Joe pocketed the gold piece which he received with a thrill of +exultation. He had never received so much in value for a week’s +work before. Just then a man paid two dollars for a very plain +supper. + +“That makes my pay seven dollars,” said Joe to himself. “If I can +get steady work, I can get rich very quick,” he thought. + +There was one thing, however, that Joe did not take into account. +If his earnings were likely to be large, his expenses would be +large, too. So he might receive a good deal of money and not lay up +a cent. + +“Shall you have any more work to do?” asked Joe. + +“Not shoost now,” answered the German. “You can look round in a +week. Maybe I have some then.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +JOE’S HOTEL + + +Before going to the Leidesdorff House to call upon his friend +Folsom, Joe thought he would try to make arrangements for the night. + +He came to the St. Francis Hotel, on the corner of Dupont and Clay +Streets. There was an outside stair that led to the balcony that +ran all round the second story. The doors of the rooms opened upon +this balcony. + +A man came out from the office. + +“Can I get lodging here?” asked Joe. + +“Yes.” + +“How much do you charge?” + +“Three dollars.” + +“He must take me for a millionaire,” thought Joe. + +“I can’t afford it,” he said. + +As Joe descended the stairs he did not feel quite so rich. Six +dollars won’t go far when lodging costs three dollars and supper +two. + +Continuing his wanderings, Joe came to a tent, which seemed to be a +hotel in its way, for it had “Lodgings” inscribed on the canvas in +front. + +“What do you charge for lodgings?” Joe inquired. + +“A dollar,” was the reply. + +Looking in, Joe saw that the accommodations were of the plainest. +Thin pallets were spread about without pillows. Joe was not used to +luxury but to sleep here would be roughing it even for him. But he +was prepared to rough it, and concluded that he might as well pass +the night here. + +“All right!” said he. “I’ll be round by and by.” + +“Do you want to pay in advance to secure your bed?” + +“I guess not; I’ll take the risk.” + +Joe went on to the Leidesdorff Hotel and was cordially received by +Mr. Folsom. + +“How much have you earned to-day, Joe?” + +“Five dollars and my supper.” + +“That’s good. Is the job finished?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“And you have nothing in view for to-morrow?” + +“No, sir; but I guess I shall run across a job.” + +“Where are you going to spend the night?” + +“In a tent a little way down the street.” + +“How much will they charge you?” + +“One dollar.” + +“I wish my bed was large enough to hold two; you should be welcome +to a share of it. But they don’t provide very wide bedsteads in +this country.” + +Mr. Folsom’s bed was about eighteen inches wide. + +“Thank you, sir,” said Joe; “I shall do very well in the tent, I am +sure.” + +“I am thinking of making a trip to the mines with my friend +Carter,” continued Folsom. “Very likely we shall start to-morrow. +Do you want to go with us?” + +“I expect to go to the mines,” said Joe, “but I think I had better +remain awhile in San Francisco, and lay by a little money. You know +I am in debt.” + +“In debt?” + +“Yes, for my passage. I should like to pay that off.” + +“There is no hurry about it, Joe.” + +“I’d like to get it off my mind, Mr. Folsom.” + +About nine o’clock Joe left the hotel and sought the tent where he +proposed to pass the night. He was required to pay in advance, and +willingly did so. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +JOE’S SECOND DAY + + +Joe woke up at seven o’clock the next morning. Though his bed was +hard, he slept well, for he was fatigued. He stretched himself +and sat up on his pallet. It is needless to say that he had not +undressed. Three or four men were lying near him, all fast asleep +except one, and that one he recognized as Henry Hogan. + +“Halloo!” said Hogan. “You here?” + +“Yes,” said Joe, not overpleased at the meeting. + +“We seem to keep together,” said Hogan, with a grin. + +“So it seems,” said Joe coldly. + +Hogan, however, seemed disposed to be friendly. + +“Pretty rough accommodations for the money.” + +“It doesn’t make so much difference where money is earned easily.” + +“How much money did you make yesterday?” + +Joe’s first thought was to tell him it was none of his business, +but he thought better of it. + +“I made seven dollars,” said he, rather proudly. + +“Pretty good, but I beat you,” said Hogan. + +“How much did you make?” + +“I’ll show you.” + +Hogan showed five half-eagles. + +“I made it in ten minutes,” he said. + +Joe was decidedly mystified. + +“You are fooling me,” he said. + +“No, I am not. I made it at the gaming-table.” + +“Oh!” said Joe, a little startled, for he had been brought up to +think gambling wicked. + +“Better come and try your luck with me,” said Hogan. “It is easier +and quicker than sawing wood.” + +“Perhaps it is,” said Joe, “but I’d rather saw wood.” + +“I suspect you are a young Puritan.” + +“Perhaps I am,” said Joe. “At any rate, I don’t mean to gamble.” + +“Just as you like. I can’t afford to be so particular.” + +“You don’t seem to be very particular,” said Joe. + +“What do you mean?” inquired Hogan suspiciously. + +“You know well enough,” said Joe. “You know the way you had of +getting money in New York. You know the way you tried to get it on +board the steamer.” + +“Look here, young fellow,” said Hogan menacingly, “I’ve heard +enough of this. You won’t find it safe to run against me. I’m a +tough customer, you’ll find.” + +“I don’t doubt it,” said Joe. + +“Then just be careful, will you? I ain’t going to have you slander +me and prejudice people against me, and I mean to protect myself. +Do you understand me?” + +“I think I do, Mr. Hogan, but I don’t feel particularly alarmed.” + +Joe got up and went out in search of breakfast. Be thought of the +place where he took supper but was deterred from going there by the +high prices. + +“I suppose I shall have to pay a dollar for my breakfast,” he +thought, “but I can’t afford to pay two. My capital is reduced to +five dollars and I may not be able to get anything to do to-day.” + +Joe finally succeeded in finding a humble place where for a dollar +he obtained a cup of coffee, a plate of cold meat, and as much +bread as he could eat. + +“I shall have to make it do with two meals a day,” thought our +hero. “Then it will cost me three dollars a day to live, including +lodging, and I shall have to be pretty lucky to make that.” + +After breakfast Joe walked about the streets, hoping that something +would turn up. But his luck did not seem to be so good as the day +before. Hour after hour passed and no chance offered itself. As he +was walking along feeling somewhat anxious, he met Hogan. + +“Lend me a dollar,” said Hogan quickly. “I’m dead broke.” + +“Where has all your money gone?” asked Joe. + +“Lost it at faro. Lend me a dollar and I’ll win it all back.” + +“I have no money to spare,” said Joe decidedly. + +“Curse you for a young skinflint!” said Hogan, scowling. “I’ll get +even with you yet.” + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE FOILED ASSASSIN + + +About four o’clock Joe went into a restaurant and got some dinner. +In spite of his wish to be economical, his dinner bill amounted to +a dollar and a half, and now his cash in hand was reduced to two +dollars and a half. + +Joe began to feel uneasy. + +“This won’t do,” he said to himself. “At this rate I shall soon be +penniless. I must get something to do.” + +In the evening he strolled down Montgomery Street to Telegraph +Hill. It was not a very choice locality, the only buildings being +shabby little dens, frequented by a class of social outlaws who +kept concealed during the day but came out at night--a class to +which the outrages frequent at this time were rightly attributed. + +Joe was stumbling along the uneven path, when all at once he found +himself confronted by a tall fellow wearing a slouched hat. The man +paused in front of him, but did not say a word. Finding that he was +not disposed to move aside, Joe stepped aside himself. He did not +as yet suspect the fellow’s purpose. He understood it, however, +when a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder. + +“Quick, boy, your money!” said the ruffian. + +Having but two dollars and a half, Joe naturally felt reluctant to +part with it, and this gave him the courage to object. + +“I’ve got none to spare,” he said and tried to tear himself away. + +His resistance led the fellow to suspect that he had a considerable +sum with him. Joe felt himself seized and carried into a den close +by, which was frequented by thieves and desperate characters. + +There was a counter, on which was set a dim oil-lamp. There were +a few bottles in sight, and a villainous-looking fellow appeared +to preside over the establishment. The latter looked up as Joe was +brought in. + +“Who have you there?” asked the barkeeper. + +“A young cove as don’t want to part with his money.” + +“You’d better hand over what you’ve got, young ’un.” + +Joe looked from one to the other and thought he had never seen such +villainous faces before. + +“What are you lookin’ at?” demanded his captor suspiciously, “You +want to know us again, do you? Maybe you’d like to get us hauled +up, would you?” + +“I don’t want ever to set eyes on you again.” + +“That’s the way to talk. As soon as our business is over, there +ain’t no occasion for our meetin’ again. Don’t you go to point us +out, or----” + +He didn’t finish the sentence, but whipped out a long knife, which +made any further remarks unnecessary. + +Under the circumstances, resistance would be madness and Joe drew +out his money. + +“Is that all you’ve got?” demanded the thief. + +“Every cent,” said Joe. “It won’t leave me anything to pay for my +night’s lodging.” + +“Then you can sleep out. I’ve done it many a time. But I’ll take +the liberty of searching you, and seeing if you tell the truth or +not.” + +“Just as you like,” said Joe. + +Joe was searched, but no more money was found. + +“The boy’s told the truth,” said his captor. “Two dollars and a +half is a pretty small haul.” + +“I am sorry, gentlemen, that I haven’t anything more. It isn’t +my fault, for I’ve tried hard to get something to do to-day, and +couldn’t.” + +“You’re a cool customer,” said the barkeeper. + +“I expect to be to-night, for I shall have to sleep out.” + +“You can go,” said his captor, as he opened the door of the den; +“and don’t come round here again, unless you’ve got more money with +you.” + +“I don’t think I shall,” said Joe. + +When Joe found himself penniless, he really felt less anxious than +when he had at least money enough to pay for lodging and breakfast. +Having lost everything, any turn of fortune must be for the better. + +“Something has got to turn up pretty quick,” thought Joe. “It’s +just as well I didn’t get a job to-day. I should only have had more +money to lose.” + +He had not walked a hundred feet when his attention was called +to the figure of a gentleman walking some rods in front of him. +He saw it but indistinctly, and would not have given it a second +thought had he not seen that the person, whoever he might be, was +stealthily followed by a man who in general appearance resembled +the rascal who had robbed him of his money. The pursuer carried in +his hand a canvas bag filled with sand. This, though Joe did not +know it, was a dangerous weapon in the hands of a lawless human. +Brought down heavily upon the head of an unlucky traveler, it often +produced instant death, without leaving any outward marks that +would indicate death from violence. + +Though Joe didn’t comprehend the use of the sand-bag, his own +recent experience and the stealthy movement of the man behind +convinced him that mischief was intended. He would have been +excusable if, being but a boy and no match for an able-bodied +ruffian, he had got out of the way. But Joe had more courage than +falls to the share of most boys of sixteen. He felt a chivalrous +desire to rescue the unsuspecting stranger from the peril that +menaced him. + +Joe, too, imitating the stealthy motion of the pursuer, swiftly +gained upon him, overtaking him just as he had the sand-bag poised +aloft, ready to be brought down upon the head of the traveler. + +With a cry, Joe rushed upon the would-be assassin, causing him to +stumble and fall, while the gentleman in front turned round in +amazement. + +Joe sprang to his side. + +“Have you a pistol?” he said quickly. + +Scarcely knowing what he did, the gentleman drew out a pistol and +put it in Joe’s hand. Joe cocked it, and stood facing the ruffian. + +The desperado was on his feet, fury in his looks and a curse upon +his lips. He swung the sand-bag aloft. + +“Curse you!” he said. “I’ll make you pay for this!” + +“One step forward,” said Joe, in a clear, distinct voice, which +betrayed not a particle of fear, “and I will put a bullet through +your brain!” + +The assassin stepped back. He was a coward, who attacked from +behind. He looked in the boy’s resolute face, and he saw he was in +earnest. + +“Put down that weapon, you whipper-snapper!” + +“Not much!” answered Joe. + +“I’ve a great mind to kill you!” + +“I’ve no doubt of it,” said our hero; “but you’d better not attack +me. I am armed, and I will fire if you make it necessary. Now, turn +round and leave us.” + +“Will you promise not to shoot?” + +“Yes, if you go off quietly.” + +The order was obeyed, but not very willingly. + +When the highwayman had moved off, Joe said: + +“Now, sir, we’d better be moving, and pretty quickly, or the fellow +may return, with some of his friends, and overpower us. Where are +you stopping?” + +“At the Waverly House.” + +“That is near-by. We will go there at once.” + +They soon reached the hotel, a large wooden building on the north +side of Pacific Street. + +Joe was about to bid his acquaintance good night but the latter +detained him. + +“Come in, my boy,” he said. “You have done me a great service. I +must know more of you.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +JOE’S NEW FRIEND + + +“Come up to my room,” said the stranger. + +He obtained a candle at the office, gas not being used in San +Francisco at that time, and led the way to a small chamber on the +second floor. + +“Now, sit down, my boy, and tell me your name.” + +“Joseph Mason.” + +“How long have you been here?” + +“Less than a week.” + +“I only arrived yesterday. But for your help, my residence might +have been a brief one.” + +“I am glad I have been able to be of service to you.” + +“You were a friend in need, and a friend in need is a friend +indeed. It is only fair that I should be a friend to you. It’s a +poor rule that doesn’t work both ways.” + +Joe was favorably impressed with the speaker’s appearance. He was a +man of middle height, rather stout, with a florid complexion, and +an open, friendly face. + +“Thank you, sir,” he said, “I need a friend, and shall be glad of +your friendship.” + +“Then here’s my hand. Take it, and let us ratify our friendship.” + +Joe took the proffered hand and shook it cordially. + +“My name is George Morgan,” said the stranger. “I came from +Philadelphia. Now we know each other. Where are you staying?” + +Joe’s face flushed and he looked embarrassed. + +“Just before I came up with you,” he answered, thinking frankness +best, “I was robbed of two dollars and a half, all the money I had +in this world. I shall have to stop in the streets to-night.” + +“Not if I know it,” said Morgan emphatically. “This bed isn’t very +large, but you are welcome to a share of it. To-morrow we will form +our plans.” + +“Shan’t I inconvenience you, sir?” asked Joe. + +“Not a bit,” answered Morgan heartily. + +“Then I will stay, sir, and thank you. After the adventure I have +had to-night, I shouldn’t enjoy being out in the streets.” + +“Tell me how you came to be robbed. Was it by the same man who made +the attack upon me?” + +“No, sir. I wish it had been, as then I should feel even with him. +It was a man that looked very much like him, though.” + +Joe gave an account of the robbery, to which his new friend +listened with attention. + +“Evidently,” he said, “the street we were in is not a very safe +one. Have you had any supper?” + +“Oh, yes, sir. Luckily, I got that and paid for it before I had my +money taken.” + +“Good. Now, as I am tired, I will go to bed, and you can follow +when you feel inclined.” + +“I will go now, sir. I have been walking the streets all day, in +search of work, and, though I found none, I am tired, all the same.” + +They woke up at seven o’clock. + +“How did you rest, Joe?” asked George Morgan. + +“Very well, sir.” + +“Do you feel ready for breakfast?” + +“As soon as I can earn money enough to pay for it.” + +“Don’t trouble yourself about that. You are going to breakfast with +me.” + +“You are very kind, Mr. Morgan, but I wish you had some work for me +to do, so that I could pay you.” + +“That may come after awhile. It might not be safe to delay your +breakfast till you could pay for it. Remember, you have done me a +great service, which fifty breakfasts couldn’t pay for.” + +“Don’t think of that, Mr. Morgan,” said Joe modestly. “Anybody +would do what I did.” + +“I am not sure whether everybody would have the courage. But you +must leave me to show my appreciation of your services in my own +way.” + +They took breakfast in the hotel and walked out. + +Though it was early, the town was already astir. People got up +early in those days. Building was going on here and there. Draymen +were piloting heavy loads through the streets--rough enough in +general appearance, but drawn from very unlikely social grades. + +“By Jove!” said Morgan, in surprise, his glance resting on a young +man of twenty-five, who was in command of a dray. “Do you hear that +drayman?” + +“Is he a foreigner?” asked Joe. “I don’t understand what he is +saying.” + +“He is talking to his horse in Greek, quoting from Homer. Look +here, my friend!” he said, hailing the drayman. + +“What is it, sir?” said the young man courteously. + +“Didn’t I hear you quoting Greek just now?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“How happens it that a classical scholar like you finds himself in +such a position?” + +The young man smiled. + +“How much do you think I am earning?” + +“I can’t guess. I am a stranger in this city.” + +“Twenty dollars a day.” + +“Capital! I don’t feel as much surprised as I did. Are you a +college graduate?” + +“Yes, sir. I was graduated at Yale. Then I studied law and three +months since I came out here. It takes time to get into practise +at home and I had no resources to fall back upon. I raised money +enough to bring me to California and came near starving the +first week I was here. I couldn’t wait to get professional work, +but I had an offer to drive a dray. I am a farmer’s son and was +accustomed to hard work as a boy. I accepted the offer and here I +am. I can lay up half my earnings and am quite satisfied.” + +“But you won’t be a drayman all your life?” + +“Oh, no, sir. But I may as well keep at it till I can get into +something more to my taste.” + +And the young lawyer drove off. + +“It’s a queer country,” said Morgan. “It’s hard to gauge a man by +his occupation here, I see.” + +“I wish I could get a dray to drive,” said Joe. + +“You are not old enough or strong enough yet. I am looking for +some business myself, Joe, but I can’t at all tell what I shall +drift into. At home I was a dry-goods merchant. My partner and I +disagreed and I sold out to him. I drew ten thousand dollars out +of the concern, invested four-fifths of it, and have come out here +with the remainder, to see what I can do.” + +“Ten thousand dollars! What a rich man you must be!” said Joe. + +“In your eyes, my boy. As you get older, you will find that it +will not seem so large to you. At any rate, I hope to increase it +considerably.” + +They were walking on Kearny Street, near California Street, when +Joe’s attention was drawn, to a sign: + + =THIS RESTAURANT FOR SALE= + +It was a one-story building, of small dimensions, not fashionable, +nor elegant in its appointments, but there wasn’t much style in San +Francisco at that time. + +“Would you like to buy out the restaurant?” asked Morgan. + +“I don’t feel like buying anything out with empty pockets,” said +Joe. + +“Let us go in.” + +The proprietor was a man of middle age. + +“Why do you wish to sell out?” asked Morgan. + +“I want to go to the mines. I need an out-of-door life and want a +change.” + +“Does this business pay?” + +“Sometimes I have made seventy-five dollars profit in a day.” + +“How much do you ask for the business?” + +“I’ll take five hundred dollars, cash.” + +“Have you a reliable cook?” + +“Yes. He knows his business.” + +“Will he stay?” + +“For the present. If you want a profitable business, you will do +well to buy.” + +“I don’t want it for myself. I want it for this young man.” + +“For this boy?” asked the restaurant-keeper, surprised. + +Joe looked equally surprised. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +JOE STARTS IN BUSINESS + + +“Do you think you can keep a hotel, Joe?” asked Morgan. + +“I can try,” said Joe promptly. + +“Come in, gentlemen,” said the restaurant-keeper. + +“We can talk best inside.” + +The room was small, holding but six tables. In the rear was the +kitchen. + +“Let me see your scale of prices,” said Morgan. + +It was shown him. + +“I could breakfast cheaper at Delmonico’s,” he said. + +“And better,” said the proprietor of the restaurant; “but I find +people here willing to pay big prices, and, as long as that’s the +case, I should be a fool to reduce them. Yes, there’s a splendid +profit to be made in the business. I ought to charge a thousand +dollars, instead of five hundred.” + +“Why don’t you?” asked Morgan bluntly. + +“Because I couldn’t get it. Most men, when they come out here, are +not content to settle down in the town. They won’t be satisfied +till they get to the mines.” + +“That seems to be the case with you, too.” + +“It isn’t that altogether. My lungs are weak and confinement isn’t +good for me. Besides, the doctors say the climate in the interior +is better for pulmonary affections.” + +“What rent do you have to pay?” + +“A small ground-rent. I put up this building myself.” + +“How soon can you give possession?” + +“Right off.” + +“Will you stay here three days, to initiate my young friend into +the mysteries of the business?” + +“Oh, yes; I’ll do that willingly.” + +“Then I will buy you out.” + +In five minutes the business was settled. + +“Joe,” said Morgan, “let me congratulate you. You are now one of +the business men of San Francisco.” + +“It seems like a dream to me, Mr. Morgan,” said Joe. “This morning +when I waked up I wasn’t worth a cent.” + +“And now you own five hundred dollars,” said Mr. Morgan, laughing. + +“That wasn’t exactly the way I thought of it, sir, but are you not +afraid to trust me to that amount?” + +“No, I am not, Joe,” said Morgan seriously. “I think you are a boy +of energy and integrity. I don’t see why you shouldn’t succeed.” + +“Suppose I shouldn’t?” + +“I shall not trouble myself about the loss. In all probability, you +saved my life last evening. That is worth to me many times what I +have invested for you.” + +“I want to give you my note for the money,” said Joe. “If I live, I +will pay you, with interest.” + +“I agree with you. We may as well put it on a business basis.” + +Papers were drawn up, and Joe found himself proprietor of the +restaurant. He lost no opportunity of mastering the details of the +business. He learned where his predecessor obtained his supplies, +what prices he paid, about how much he required for a day’s +consumption, and what was his scale of prices. + +“Do you live here, Mr. Brock?” asked Joe. + +“Yes; I have a bed, which I lay in a corner of the restaurant. Thus +I avoid the expense of a room outside, and am on hand early for +business.” + +“I’ll do the same,” said Joe promptly. + +“In that way you will have no personal expenses, except clothing +and washing,” said Brock. + +“I shall be glad to have no bills to pay for board,” said Joe. +“That’s rather a steep item here.” + +“So it is.” + +“I don’t see but I can save up pretty much all I make,” said Joe. + +“Certainly you can.” + +In two days Joe, who was naturally quick and whose natural +shrewdness was sharpened by his personal interest, mastered the +details of the business, and felt that he could manage alone. + +“Mr. Brock,” said he, “you promised to stay with me three days, but +I won’t insist upon the third day. I think I can get along well +without you.” + +“If you can, I shall be glad to leave you at once. The fact is, a +friend of mine starts for the mines to-morrow, and I would like to +accompany him. I asked him to put it off a day, but he thinks he +can’t.” + +“Go with him, by all means. I can get along.” + +So, on the morning of the third day, Joe found himself alone. + +At the end of the first week he made a careful estimate of his +expenses and receipts, and found, to his astonishment, that he had +cleared two hundred dollars. It seemed to him almost incredible, +and he went over the calculations again and again. But he could +figure out no other result. + +“Two hundred dollars in one week!” he said to himself. “What would +Oscar say to that? It seems like a fairy tale.” + +Joe did not forget that he was five hundred dollars In debt. He +went to George Morgan, who had bought out for himself a gentlemen’s +furnishing store, and said: + +“Mr. Morgan, I want to pay up a part of that debt.” + +“So soon, Joe? How much do you want to pay?” + +“A hundred and fifty dollars.” + +“You don’t mean to say that you have cleared that amount?” said +Morgan, in amazement. + +“Yes, sir, and fifty dollars more.” + +“Very well. I will receive the money. You do well to wipe out your +debts as soon as possible.” + +Joe paid over the money with no little satisfaction. + +Without going too much into detail, it may be stated that at the +end of a month Joe was out of debt and had three hundred dollars +over. He called on the owner of the land to pay the monthly +ground-rent. + +“Why don’t you buy the land, and get rid of the rent?” asked the +owner. + +“Do you want to sell?” asked Joe. + +“Yes; I am about to return to the East.” + +“What do you ask?” + +“I own two adjoining lots. You may have them all for a thousand +dollars.” + +“Will you give me time?” + +“I can’t. I want to return at once, and I must have the cash.” + +A thought struck Joe. + +“I will take three hours to consider,” said Joe. + +He went to George Morgan and broached his business. + +“Mr. Morgan,” he said, “will you lend me seven hundred dollars?” + +“Are you getting into pecuniary difficulties, Joe?” asked Morgan, +concerned. + +“No, sir; but I want to buy some real estate.” + +“Explain yourself.” + +Joe did so. + +“It is the best thing you can do,” said Morgan, “I will lend you +the money.” + +“I hope to repay it inside of two months,” said Joe. + +“I think you will, judging from what you have done already.” + +In two hours Joe had paid over the entire amount, for it will be +remembered that he had three hundred dollars of his own, and was +owner of three city lots. + +“Now,” thought he, “I must attend to business, and clear off the +debt I have incurred. I shan’t feel as if the land is mine till I +have paid for it wholly.” + +Joe found it a great advantage that he obtained his own board and +lodging free. Though wages were high, the necessary expenses of +living were so large that a man earning five dollars a day was +worse off oftentimes than one who was earning two dollars at the +East. + +“How shall I make my restaurant more attractive?” thought Joe. + +He decided first that he would buy good articles and insist upon +as much neatness as possible about the tables. At many of the +restaurants very little attention was paid to this, and visitors +who had been accustomed to neatness at home were repelled. + +Soon Joe’s dining-room acquired a reputation, and the patronage +increased. At the end of the third month he had not only paid up +the original loan of seven hundred dollars, but was the owner of +the three lots, and had four hundred dollars over. He began to feel +that his prosperity was founded on a solid basis. + +One day about this time, as he was at the desk where he received +money from his patrons as they went out, his attention was drawn to +a rough fellow, having the appearance of a tramp, entering at the +door. The man’s face seemed familiar to him, and it flashed upon +him that it was Henry Hogan, who had defrauded him in New York. + +The recognition was mutual. + +“You here?” he exclaimed, in surprise. + +“So it seems,” said Joe. + +“Is it a good place?” + +“I like it.” + +“Who’s your boss?” + +“Myself.” + +“You don’t mean to say this is your own place?” + +“Yes, I do.” + +“Well, I’ll be blowed!” ejaculated Hogan, staring stupidly at Joe. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +MR. HOGAN’S PROPOSAL + + +Joe enjoyed Hogan’s amazement. He felt rather proud of his rapid +progress. It was not four months since, a poor, country boy, he had +come up to New York, and fallen a prey to a designing sharper. Now, +on the other side of the continent, he was master of a business and +owner of real estate. + +The day has passed for such rapid progress. California is no longer +a new country, and the conditions of living closely approximate +those in the East. I am careful to say this because I don’t wish to +mislead my young readers. Success is always attainable by pluck and +persistency, but the degree is dependent on circumstances. + +“How have you made out?” asked Joe of his visitor. + +“I’ve had hard luck,” grumbled Hogan, “I went to the mines, but I +wasn’t lucky.” + +“Was that the case with other miners?” asked Joe, who had a shrewd +suspicion that Hogan’s ill-luck was largely the result of his +laziness and want of application. + +“No,” said Hogan. “Other men around me were lucky, but I wasn’t.” + +“Perhaps your claim was a poor one.” + +“It was, as long as I had anything to do with it,” said Hogan. “I +sold it out for a trifle and the next day the other man found a +nugget. Wasn’t that cursed hard?” he grumbled. + +“You ought to have kept on. Then you would have found the nugget.” + +“No, I shouldn’t. I am too unlucky. If I had held on, it wouldn’t +have been there. You’ve got on well. You’re lucky.” + +“Yes; I have no reason to complain. But I wasn’t lucky all the +time. I was robbed of every cent of money, when I met a good +friend, who bought this business for me.” + +“Does it pay?” asked the other eagerly. + +“Yes, it pays,” said Joe cautiously. + +“How much do you make, say, in a week?” asked Hogan, leaning his +elbows on the counter and looking up in Joe’s face. + +“Really, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “I don’t feel called upon to tell my +business to others.” + +“I thought maybe you’d tell an old friend,” said Hogan. + +Joe could not help laughing at the man’s matchless impudence. + +“I don’t think you have treated me exactly like a friend, Mr. +Hogan,” he said. “You certainly did all you could to prevent my +coming to California.” + +“There’s some mistake about that,” said Hogan. + +“You’re under a misapprehension; but I won’t go into that matter +now. Will you trust me for my supper?” + +“Yes,” said Joe promptly. “Sit down at that table.” + +The man had treated him badly, but things had turned out favorably +for Joe, and he would not let Hogan suffer from hunger, if he could +relieve him. + +Hogan needed no second invitation. He took a seat at a table +near-by, and ate enough for two men, but Joe could not repeat the +invitation he had given. He felt that he could not afford it. + +It was rather late when Hogan sat down. When he finished, he was +the only one left in the restaurant, except Joe. He sauntered up to +the desk. + +“You’ve got a good cook,” said Hogan, picking his teeth with a +knife. + +“Yes,” answered Joe. “I think so.” + +“You say the business pays well?” + +“Yes; it satisfies me.” + +“Are you alone? Have you no partner?” + +“You could do better with one. Suppose you take me into business +with you?” + +Joe was considerably surprised at this proposition from a man who +had swindled him. + +“How much capital can you furnish?” he asked. + +“I haven’t got any money. I’m dead broke,” said Hogan, “but I can +give my services. I can wait on the table. I’ll do that, and you +can give me my board and one-third of the profits. Come, now, +that’s a good offer. What do you say?” + +Joe thought it best to be candid. + +“I don’t want any partner, Mr. Hogan,” he said; “and I may as well +tell you, I don’t think I should care to be associated with you if +I did.” + +“Do you mean to insult me?” asked Hogan, scowling. + +“No; but I may as well be candid.” + +“What’s the matter with me?” asked Hogan roughly. + +“I don’t like the way you do business,” said Joe. + +“Look here, young one, you put on too many airs just because you’re +keepin’ a one-horse restaurant,” said Hogan angrily. + +“If it’s a one-horse restaurant, why do you want to become my +partner?” retorted Joe coolly. + +“Because I’m hard up--I haven’t got a cent.” + +“I’m sorry for you; but a man needn’t be in that condition long +here.” + +“Where do you sleep?” asked Hogan suddenly. + +“Here. I put a bed on the floor in one corner, and so am on hand in +the morning.” + +“I say,” Hogan continued insinuatingly, “won’t you let me stay here +to-night?” + +“Sleep here?” + +“Yes.” + +“I’d rather not, Mr. Hogan.” + +“I haven’t a cent to pay for a lodging. If you don’t take me in, I +shall have to stay in the street all night.” + +“You’ve slept out at the mines, haven’t you?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then you can do it here.” + +“You’re hard on a poor man,” whined Hogan. “It wouldn’t cost you +anything to let me sleep here.” + +“No, it wouldn’t,” said Joe; “but I prefer to choose my own company +at night.” + +“I may catch my death of cold,” said Hogan. + +“I hope not; but I don’t keep lodgings,” said Joe firmly. + +“You haven’t any feeling for an unlucky man.” + +“I have given you your supper, and not stinted you in any way. +What you ate would cost two dollars at my regular prices. I wasn’t +called to do it, for you never did me any service, and you are +owing me to-day fifty dollars, which you cheated me out of when I +was a poor boy. I won’t let you lodge here, but I will give you a +breakfast in the morning, if you choose to come round. Then you +will be strengthened for a day’s work, and can see what you can +find to do.” + +Hogan saw that Joe was in earnest and walked out of the restaurant, +without a word. + +When Joe was about to close his doors for the night his attention +was drawn to a man who was sitting down on the ground, a few feet +distant, with his head buried between his two hands, in an attitude +expressive of despondency. + +Joe was warm-hearted and sympathetic, and, after a moment’s +hesitation, addressed the stranger. + +“Is anything the matter with you, sir?” he asked. “Don’t you feel +well?” + +The man addressed raised his head. He was a stout, strongly built +man, roughly dressed, but had a look which inspired confidence. + +“I may as well tell you, boy,” he answered, “though you can’t help +me. I’ve been a cursed fool, that’s what’s the matter.” + +“If you don’t mind telling me,” said Joe gently, “perhaps I can be +of service to you.” + +The man shook his head. + +“I don’t think you can,” he said, “but I’ll tell you, for all that. +Yesterday I came up from the mines with two thousand dollars. I was +about a year getting it together, and to me it was a fortune. I’m +a shoemaker by occupation, and lived in a town in Massachusetts, +where I have a wife and two young children. I left them a year ago +to go to the mines. I did well, and the money I told you about +would have made us all comfortable, if I could only have got it +home.” + +“Were you robbed of it?” asked Joe, remembering his own experience. + +“Yes; I was robbed of it, but not in the way you are thinking of. A +wily scoundrel induced me to enter a gambling-den, the Bella Union, +they call it. I wouldn’t play at first, but soon the fascination +seized me. I saw a man win a hundred dollars, and I thought I could +do the same, so I began, and won a little. Then I lost, and played +on to get my money back. In just an hour I was cleaned out of all +I had. Now I am penniless, and my poor family will suffer for my +folly.” + +He buried his face in his hands once more and, strong man as he +was, he wept aloud. + +“Have you had any supper, sir?” said Joe compassionately. + +“No; but I have no appetite.” + +“Have you any place to sleep?” + +“No.” + +“Then I can offer you a supper and a night’s lodging. Don’t be +discouraged. In the morning we can talk the matter over, and see +what can be done.” + +The stranger rose and laid his hand on Joe’s arm. + +“I don’t know how it is,” he said, “but your words give me courage. +I believe you have saved my life. I have a revolver left and I had +a mind to blow my brains out.” + +“Would that have helped you or your family?” + +“No, boy. I was a fool to think of it. I’ll accept your offer, and +to-morrow I’ll see what I can do. You’re the best friend I’ve met +since I left home.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE UNLUCKY MINER + + +Joe brought out some cold meat and bread and butter, and set it +before his guest. + +“The fire’s gone out,” he said, “or I would give you some tea. Here +is a glass of milk, if you like it.” + +“Thank you, boy,” said his visitor. “Milk is good enough for +anybody. One thing I can say, I’ve steered clear of liquor. A +brother of mine was intemperate and that was a warning to me. I +took credit to myself for being a steady-going man, compared with +many of my acquaintances out at the mines. But it don’t do to +boast. I’ve done worse, perhaps. I’ve gambled away the provision I +had made for my poor family.” + +“Don’t take it too hard,” said Joe, in a tone of sympathy. “You +know how it is out here. Down to-day and up to-morrow.” + +“It’ll take me a long time to get up to where I was,” said the +other; “but it’s my fault, and I must make the best of it.” + +Joe observed, with satisfaction, that his visitor was doing ample +justice to the supper spread before him. With a full stomach, he +would be likely to take more cheerful views of life and the future. +In this thought Joe proved to be correct. + +“I didn’t think I could eat anything,” said the miner, laying down +his knife and fork, twenty minutes later, “but I have made a hearty +supper, thanks to your kindness. Things look a little brighter to +me now. I’ve had a hard pullback, but all is not lost. I’ve got to +stay here a year or two longer, instead of going back by the next +steamer; but I must make up my mind to that. What is your name, +boy?” + +“Joe Mason.” + +“You’ve been kind to me, and I won’t forget it. It doesn’t seem +likely I can return the favor, but I’ll do it if ever I can. Good +night to you.” + +“Where are you going?” asked Joe, surprised, as the miner walked to +the door. + +“Out into the street.” + +“But where do you mean to pass the night?” + +“Where a man without money must--in the street.” + +“But you mustn’t do that.” + +“I shan’t mind it. I’ve slept out at the mines many a night.” + +“But won’t you find it more comfortable here?” + +“Yes; but I don’t want to intrude. You’ve given me a good supper +and that is all I can expect.” + +“He doesn’t seem much like Hogan,” thought Joe. + +“You are welcome to lodge here with me,” he said. “It will cost you +nothing and will be more comfortable for you.” + +“You don’t know me, Joe,” said the miner. “How do you know but I +may get up in the night and rob you?” + +“You could, but I don’t think you will,” said Joe. “I am not at all +afraid of it. You look like an honest man.” + +The miner looked gratified. + +“You shan’t repent your confidence, Joe,” he said. + +“I’d rather starve than rob a good friend like you. But you mustn’t +trust everybody.” + +“I don’t,” said Joe. “I refused a man to-night--a man named Hogan.” + +“Hogan?” + +“Yes.” + +“What does he look like?” + +Joe described him. + +“It’s the very man,” said the miner. + +“Do you know him, then?” + +“Yes; he was out at our diggings. Nobody liked him, or trusted him. +He was too lazy to work, but just loafed around, complaining of his +luck. One night I caught him in my tent, just going to rob me. I +warned him to leave the camp next day or I’d report him, and the +boys would have strung him up. That’s the way they treat thieves +out there.” + +“It doesn’t surprise me to hear it,” said Joe. “He robbed me of +fifty dollars in New York.” + +“He did? How was that?” + +Joe told the story. + +“The mean skunk!” ejaculated Watson--for this Joe found to be the +miner’s name. “It’s mean enough to rob a man, but to cheat a poor +boy out of all he has is a good deal meaner. And yet you gave him +supper?” + +“Yes. The man was hungry; I pitied him.” + +“You’re a better Christian than I am. I’d have let him go hungry.” + +Both Joe and the miner were weary and they soon retired, but not to +uninterrupted slumber. About midnight they were disturbed, as the +next chapter will show. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +HOGAN MEETS A CONGENIAL SPIRIT + + +When Hogan left Joe’s presence he was far from feeling as grateful +as he ought for the kindness with which our hero had treated him. +Instead of feeling thankful for the bountiful supper, he was angry +because Joe had not permitted him to remain through the night. Had +he obtained this favor, he would have resented the refusal to take +him into partnership. There are some men who are always soliciting +favors, and demanding them as a right, and Hogan was one of them. + +Out in the street he paused a minute, undecided where to go. He had +no money, as he had truly said, or he would have been tempted to go +to a gambling-house, and risk it on a chance of making more. + +“Curse that boy!” he muttered, as he sauntered along in the +direction of Telegraph Hill. “Who’d have thought a green country +clodhopper would have gone up as he has, while an experienced man +of the world like me is out at the elbows and without a cent!” + +The more Hogan thought of this, the more indignant he became. + +He thrust both hands into his pantaloons pockets, and strode +moodily on. + +“I say it’s a cursed shame!” he muttered. “I never did have any +luck, that’s a fact. Just see how luck comes to some. With only a +dollar or two in his pocket, this Joe got trusted for a first-class +passage out here, while I had to come in the steerage. Then, +again, he meets some fool, who sets him up in business. Nobody +ever offered to set me up in business!” continued Hogan, feeling +aggrieved at Fortune for her partiality. “Nobody even offered to +give me a start in life. I have to work hard, and that’s all the +good it does.” + +The fact was that Hogan had not done a whole day’s work for years. +But such men are very apt to deceive themselves and possibly he +imagined himself a hard-working man. + +“It’s disgusting to see the airs that boy puts on,” he continued +to soliloquize. “It’s nothing but luck. He can’t help getting on, +with everybody to help him. Why didn’t he let me sleep in his place +to-night? It wouldn’t have cost him a cent.” + +Then Hogan drifted off into calculations of how much money Joe was +making by his business. He knew the prices charged for meals and +that they afforded a large margin of profit. + +The more he thought of it, the more impressed he was with the +extent of Joe’s luck. + +“The boy must be making his fortune,” he said to himself. “Why, he +can’t help clearing from one to two hundred dollars a week--perhaps +more. It’s a money-making business, there’s no doubt of it. Why +couldn’t he take me in as partner? That would set me on my legs +again, and in time I’d be rich. I’d make him sell out, and get the +whole thing after awhile.” + +So Hogan persuaded himself into the conviction that Joe ought to +have accepted him as partner, though why this should be, since his +only claim rested on his successful attempt to defraud him in New +York, it would be difficult to conjecture. + +Sauntering slowly along, Hogan had reached the corner of Pacific +Street, then a dark and suspicious locality in the immediate +neighborhood of a number of low public houses of bad reputation. +The night was dark, for there was no moon. + +Suddenly he felt himself seized in a tight grip, while a low, stern +voice in his ear demanded: + +“Your money, and be quick about it!” + +Hogan was not a brave man, but this demand, in his impecunious +condition, instead of terrifying him, struck his sense of humor as +an exceedingly good joke. + +“You’ve got the wrong man!” he chuckled. + +“Stop your fooling, and hand over your money, quickly!” was the +stern rejoinder. + +“My dear friend,” said Hogan, “if you can find any money about me, +it’s more than I can do myself.” + +“Are you on the square?” demanded the other suspiciously. + +“Look at me, and see.” + +The highwayman took him at his word. Lighting a match, he surveyed +his captive. + +“You don’t look wealthy, that’s a fact,” he admitted. “Where are +you going?” + +“I don’t know. I haven’t got any money, nor any place to sleep.” + +“Then you’d better be leaving this place, or another mistake may be +made.” + +“Stop!” said Hogan, with a sudden thought. “Though I haven’t any +money, I can tell you where we can both find some.” + +“Do you mean it?” + +“Yes.” + +“Come in here, then, and come to business.” + +He led Hogan into a low shanty on Pacific Street, and, bidding him +be seated on a broken settee, waited for particulars. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +READY FOR MISCHIEF + + +Though Hogan was a scamp in the superlative degree, the burly +ruffian who seated himself by his side looked the character much +better. He was not a man to beat about the bush. As he expressed +it, he wanted to come to business at once. + +“What’s your game, pard?” he demanded. “Out with it.” + +Hogan’s plan, as the reader has already surmised, was to break into +Joe’s restaurant and seize whatever money he might be found to have +on the premises. He recommended it earnestly, for two reasons. +First, a share of the money would be welcome; and, secondly, +he would be gratified to revenge himself upon the boy, whom he +disliked because he had injured him. + +Jack Rafferty listened in silence. + +“I don’t know about it,” he said. “There’s a risk.” + +“I don’t see any risk. We two ought to be a match for a boy.” + +“Of course we are. If we wasn’t I’d go hang myself up for a +milksop. Are you sure there’s no one else with him?” + +“Not a soul.” + +“That’s well, so far; but we might be seen from the outside.” + +“We can keep watch.” + +“Do you think the boy’s got much money about him?” + +“Yes; he’s making money hand over fist. He’s one of those mean +chaps that never spend a cent, but lay it all by. Bah!” + +So Hogan expressed his contempt for Joe’s frugality. + +“All the better for us. How much might there be now, do you think?” + +“Five hundred dollars, likely.” + +“That’s worth risking something for,” said Jack thoughtfully. + +“We’ll share alike?” inquired Hogan anxiously. + +“Depends on how much you help about gettin’ the money,” said Jack +carelessly. + +Hogan, who was not very courageous, did not dare push the matter +though he would have liked a more definite assurance. However, +he had another motive besides the love of money, and was glad to +have the cooperation of Rafferty, though secretly afraid of his +ruffianly accomplice. + +It was agreed to wait till midnight. Till then both men threw +themselves down and slept. + +As the clock indicated midnight, Rafferty shook Hogan roughly. + +The latter sat up and gazed, in terrified bewilderment, at Jack, +who was leaning over him, forgetting for the moment the compact +into which he had entered. + +“What do you want?” he ejaculated. + +“It’s time we were about our business,” growled Jack. + +“It’s struck twelve.” + +“All right!” responded Hogan, who began to feel nervous, now that +the crisis was at hand. + +“Don’t sit rubbing your eyes, man, but get up.” + +“Haven’t you got a drop of something to brace me up?” asked Hogan +nervously. + +“What are you scared of, pard?” asked Rafferty contemptuously. + +“Nothing,” answered Hogan, “but I feel dry.” + +“All right. A drop of something will warm us both up.” + +Jack went behind the counter, and, selecting a bottle of rot-gut +whisky, poured out a stiff glassful apiece. + +“Drink it, pard,” he said. + +Hogan did so, nothing loath. + +“That’s the right sort,” he said, smacking his lips. “It’s warming +to the stomach.” + +So it was and a frequent indulgence in the vile liquid would +probably have burned his stomach and unfitted it for service. But +the momentary effect was stimulating, and inspired Hogan with a +kind of Dutch courage, which raised him in the opinion of his burly +confederate. + +“Push ahead, pard,” said he. “I’m on hand.” + +“That’s the way to talk,” said Rafferty approvingly. “If we’re +lucky, we’ll be richer before morning.” + +Through the dark streets, unlighted and murky, the two confederates +made their stealthy way, and in five minutes stood in front of +Joe’s restaurant. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CHECKMATED + + +Everything looked favorable for their plans. Of course, the +restaurant was perfectly dark, and the street was quite deserted. + +“How shall we get in?” asked Hogan of his more experienced +accomplice. + +“No trouble--through the winder.” + +Rafferty had served an apprenticeship at the burglar’s trade, and +was not long in opening the front window. He had no light and could +not see that Joe had a companion. If he had discovered this, he +would have been more cautious. + +“Go in and get the money,” said he to Hogan. + +He thought it possible that Hogan might object, but the latter had +a reason for consenting. He thought he might obtain for himself the +lion’s share of the plunder, while, as to risk, there would be no +one but Joe to cope with, and Hogan knew that in physical strength +he must be more than a match for a boy of sixteen. + +“All right!” said Hogan. “You stay at the window and give the alarm +if we are seen.” + +Rafferty was prompted by a suspicion of Hogan’s good faith in +the proposal he made to him. His ready compliance lulled this +suspicion, and led him to reflect that, perhaps, he could do the +work better himself. + +“No,” said he. “I’ll go in and you keep watch at the winder.” + +“I’m willing to go in,” said Hogan, fearing that he would not get +his fair share of the plunder. + +“You stay where you are, pard!” said Rafferty, in a tone of +command. “I’ll manage this thing myself.” + +“Just as you say,” said Hogan, slightly disappointed. + +Rafferty clambered into the room, making as little noise as +possible. He stood still a moment, to accustom his eyes to the +darkness. His plan was to discover where Joe lay, wake him +up, and force him, by threats of instant death as the penalty +for non-compliance, to deliver up all the money he had in the +restaurant. + +Now, it happened that Joe and his guest slept in opposite corners +of the room. Rafferty discovered Joe, but was entirely ignorant of +the presence of another person in the apartment. + +Joe waked on being rudely shaken. + +“Who is it?” he muttered drowsily. + +“Never mind who it is!” growled Jack in his ear. “It’s a man +that’ll kill you if you don’t give up all the money you’ve got +about you!” + +Joe was fully awake now, and realized the situation. He felt +thankful that he was not alone, and it instantly flashed upon him +that Watson had a revolver. But Watson was asleep. To obtain time +to form a plan, he parleyed a little. + +“You want my money?” he asked, appearing to be confused. + +“Yes--and at once! Refuse, and I will kill you!” + +I won’t pretend to deny that Joe’s heart beat a little quicker than +its wont. He was thinking busily. How could he attract Watson’s +attention? + +“It’s pretty hard, but I suppose I must,” he answered. + +“That’s the way to talk.” + +“Let me get up and I’ll get it.” + +Joe spoke so naturally that Rafferty suspected nothing. He +permitted our hero to rise, supposing that he was going for the +money he demanded. + +Joe knew exactly where Watson lay and went over to him. He knelt +down and drew out the revolver from beneath his head, at the +same time pushing him, in the hope of arousing him. The push was +effectual. Watson was a man whose experience at the mines had +taught him to rouse at once. He just heard Joe say: + +“Hush!” + +“What are you so long about?” demanded Rafferty suspiciously. + +“I’ve got a revolver,” said Joe unexpectedly; “and, if you don’t +leave the room, I’ll fire!” + +With an oath, Rafferty, who was no coward, sprang upon Joe, and it +would have gone hard with him but for Watson. The latter was now +broad awake. He seized Rafferty by the collar, and, dashing him +backward upon the floor, threw himself upon him. + +“Two can play at that game!” said he. “Light the candle, Joe.” + +“Help, pard!” called Rafferty. + +But Hogan, on whom he called, suspecting how matters stood, was in +full flight. + +The candle was lighted, and in the struggling ruffian Joe +recognized the man who, three months before, had robbed him of his +little all. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +NOT WHOLLY BLACK + + +“I know this man, Mr. Watson,” said Joe. + +“Who is he?” + +“He is the same man who robbed me of my money one night about three +months ago--the one I told you of.” + +For the first time, Rafferty recognized Joe. + +“There wasn’t enough to make a fuss about,” he said. “There was +only two dollars and a half.” + +“It was all I had.” + +“Let me up!” said Rafferty, renewing his struggles. + +“Joe, have you got a rope?” asked Watson. + +“Yes.” + +“Bring it here, then. I can’t hold this man all night.” + +“What are you going to do with me?” demanded Rafferty uneasily. + +“Tie you hand and foot till to-morrow morning and then deliver you +over to the authorities.” + +“No, you won’t!” + +He made a renewed struggle, but Watson was a man with muscles of +iron, and the attempt was unsuccessful. + +It was not without considerable difficulty, however, that the +midnight intruder was secured. When, at length, he was bound hand +and foot, Watson withdrew to a little distance. Joe and he looked +at Rafferty, and each felt that he had seldom seen a more brutal +face. + +“Well,” growled Rafferty, “I hope you are satisfied?” + +“Not yet,” returned Watson. “When you are delivered into the hands +of the authorities we shall be satisfied.” + +“Oh, for an hour’s freedom!” muttered Jack Rafferty, expressing his +thoughts aloud. + +“What use would you make of it?” asked Watson, in a tone of +curiosity. + +“I’d kill the man that led me into this trap!” + +Watson and Joe were surprised. + +“Was there such a man. Didn’t you come here alone?” + +“No; there was a man got me to come. Curse him, He told me I would +only find the boy here!” + +“What has become of him?” + +“He ran away, I reckon, instead of standing by me.” + +“Where was he?” + +“At the winder.” + +“Could it have been Hogan?” thought Joe. + +“I think I know the man,” said our hero. “I’ll describe the man I +mean and you can tell me if it was he.” + +He described Hogan as well as he could. + +“That’s the man,” said Rafferty. “I wouldn’t peach if he hadn’t +served me such a mean trick. What’s his name?” + +“His name is Hogan. He came over on the same steamer with me, +after robbing me of fifty dollars in New York. He has been at the +mines, but didn’t make out well. This very afternoon I gave him +supper--all he could eat--and charged him nothing for it. He repays +me by planning a robbery.” + +“He’s a mean skunk,” said Watson bluntly. + +“You’re right, stranger,” said Rafferty. “I’m a scamp myself, but +I’ll be blowed if I’d turn on a man that fed me when I was hungry.” + +The tones were gruff but the man was evidently sincere. + +“You’re better than you look,” said Watson, surprised to hear such +a sentiment from a man of such ruffianly appearance. + +Jack Rafferty laughed shortly. + +“I ain’t used to compliments,” he said, “and I expect I’m bad +enough, but I ain’t all bad. I won’t turn on my pal, unless he does +it first, and I ain’t mean enough to rob a man that’s done me a +good turn.” + +“No, you ain’t all bad,” said Watson. “It’s a pity you won’t make +up your mind to earn an honest living.” + +“Too late for that, I reckon. What do you think they’ll do with me?” + +In those days punishments were summary and severe. Watson knew it +and Joe had seen something of it. Our hero began to feel compassion +for the foiled burglar. He whispered in Watson’s ear. Watson +hesitated, but finally yielded. + +“Stranger,” said he, “the boy wants me to let you go.” + +“Does he?” inquired Rafferty, in surprise. + +“Yes. He is afraid it will go hard with you if we give you up.” + +“Likely it will,” muttered Rafferty, watching Watson’s face +eagerly, to see whether he favored Joe’s proposal. + +“Suppose we let you go--will you promise not to make another +attempt upon this place?” + +“What do you take me for? I’m not such a mean cuss as that.” + +“One thing more--you won’t kill this man that brought you here?” + +“If I knowed it wasn’t a trap he led me into. He told me there was +only the boy.” + +“He thought so. I don’t belong here. The boy let me sleep here out +of kindness. Hogan knew nothing of this. I didn’t come till after +he had left.” + +“That’s different,” said Rafferty; “but he shouldn’t have gone back +on me.” + +“He is a coward, probably.” + +“I guess you’re right,” said Rafferty contemptuously. + +“You promise, then?” + +“Not to kill him? Yes.” + +“Then we’ll let you go.” + +Watson unloosed the bonds that confined the prisoner. Rafferty +raised himself to his full height and stretched his limbs. + +“There--I feel better,” he said. “You tied the rope pretty tight.” + +“I found it necessary,” said Watson, laughing. “Now, Joe, if you +will open the door, this gentleman will pass out.” + +Rafferty turned to Joe, as he was about to leave the restaurant. + +“Boy,” said he, “I won’t forget this. I ain’t much of a friend to +boast of, but I’m your friend. You’ve saved me from prison, and +worse, it’s likely; and, if you need help any time, send for me. If +I had that money I took from you I’d pay it back.” + +“I don’t need it,” said Joe. “I’ve been lucky, and am doing well. I +hope you’ll make up your mind to turn over a new leaf. If you do, +and are ever hard up for a meal, come to me, and you shall have it +without money and without price.” + +“Thank you, boy,” said Rafferty. “I’ll remember it.” + +He strode out of the restaurant, and disappeared in the darkness. + +“Human nature’s a curious thing, Joe,” said Watson. “Who would have +expected to find any redeeming quality in such a man as that?” + +“I would sooner trust him than Hogan.” + +“So would I. Hogan is a mean scoundrel, who is not so much of a +ruffian as this man only because he is too much of a coward to be.” + +“I am glad we let him go,” said Joe. + +“I am not sure whether it was best, but I knew we should have to +be awake all night if we didn’t. He could have loosened the knots +after awhile. He won’t trouble you any more.” + +“I wish I felt as sure about Hogan,” said Joe. + +“Hogan is a coward. I advise you to keep a revolver constantly on +hand. He won’t dare to break in by himself.” + + * * * * * + +The next morning, after breakfast, Watson prepared to go out in +search of work. + +“I must begin at the bottom of the ladder once more,” he said to +Joe. “It’s my own fault, and I won’t complain. But what a fool I +have been! I might have gone home by the next steamer if I hadn’t +gambled away all my hard earnings.” + +“What sort of work shall you try to get?” + +“Anything--I have no right to be particular. Anything that will pay +my expenses and give me a chance to lay by something for my family +at home.” + +“Mr. Watson,” said Joe suddenly, “I’ve been thinking of something +that may suit you. Since I came to San Francisco I have never gone +outside. I would like to go to the mines.” + +“You wouldn’t make as much as you do here.” + +“Perhaps not; but I have laid by some money and I would like to see +something of the country. Will you carry on the restaurant for me +for three months, if I give you your board and half of the profits?” + +“Will I? I should think myself very lucky to get the chance.” + +“Then you shall have the chance.” + +“How do you know that I can be trusted?” asked Watson. + +“I haven’t known you long,” said Joe, “but I feel confidence in +your honesty.” + +“I don’t think you’ll repent your confidence. When do you want to +go?” + +“I’ll stay here a few days, till you get used to the business, then +I will start.” + +“I was lucky to fall in with you,” said Watson. “I didn’t want to +go back to the mines and tell the boys what a fool I have been. I +begin to think there’s a chance for me yet.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +MR. BICKFORD, OF PUMPKIN HOLLOW + + +It may be thought that Joe was rash in deciding to leave his +business in the hands of a man whose acquaintance he had made but +twelve hours previous. But in the early history of California +friendships ripened fast. There was more confidence between man +and man, and I am assured that even now, though the State is more +settled and as far advanced in civilization and refinement as any +of her sister States on the Atlantic coast, the people are bound +together by more friendly ties, and exhibit less of cold caution +than at the East. At all events, Joe never dreamed of distrusting +his new acquaintance. A common peril, successfully overcome, had +doubtless something to do in strengthening the bond between them. + +Joe went round to his friend Mr. Morgan and announced his intention. + +“I don’t think you will make money by your new plan, Joe,” said +Morgan. + +“I don’t expect to,” said Joe, “but I want to see the mines. If I +don’t succeed, I can come back to my business here.” + +“That is true. I should like very well to go, too.” + +“Why won’t you, Mr. Morgan?” + +“I cannot leave my business as readily as you can. Do you feel +confidence in this man whom you are leaving in charge?” + +“Yes, sir. He has been unlucky, but I am sure he is honest.” + +“He will have considerable money belonging to you by the time you +return--that is, if you stay any length of time.” + +“I want to speak to you about that, Mr. Morgan. I have directed him +to make a statement to you once a month, and put in your hands what +money comes to me--if it won’t trouble you too much.” + +“Not at all, Joe. I shall be glad to be of service to you.” + +“If you meet with any good investment for the money while I am +away, I should like to have you act for me as you would for +yourself.” + +“All right, Joe.” + +Joe learned from Watson that the latter had been mining on the +Yuba River, not far from the town of Marysville. He decided to go +there, although he might have found mines nearer the city. The next +question was, How should he get there, and should he go alone? + +About this time a long, lank Yankee walked into the restaurant, +one day, and, seating himself at a table, began to inspect the +bill of fare which Joe used to write up every morning. He looked +disappointed. + +“Don’t you find what you want?” inquired Joe. + +“No,” said the visitor. “I say, this is a queer country. I’ve been +hankerin’ arter a good dish of baked beans for a week, and ain’t +found any.” + +“We sometimes have them,” said Joe. “Come here at one o’clock, and +you shall be accommodated.” + +The stranger brightened up. + +“That’s the talk,” said he. “I’ll come.” + +“Have you just come out here?” asked Joe curiously. + +“A week ago.” + +“Are you a Southerner?” asked Joe demurely. + +“No, I guess not!” said the Yankee, with emphasis. + +“I was raised in Pumpkin Hollow, State of Maine. I was twenty-one +last first of April, but I ain’t no April fool, I tell you. Dad and +me carried on the farm till I began to hear tell of Californy. I’d +got about three hundred dollars saved up and I took it to come out +here.” + +“I suppose you’ve come out to make your fortune?” + +“Yes, sir-ee, that’s just what I come for.” + +“How have you succeeded so far?” + +“I’ve succeeded in spendin’ all my money, except fifty dollars. I +say, it costs a sight to eat and drink out here. I can’t afford to +take but one meal a day, and then I eat like all possessed.” + +“I should think you would, Mr.----” + +“Joshua Bickford--that’s my name when I’m to hum.” + +“Well, Mr. Bickford, what are your plans?” + +“I want to go out to the mines and dig gold. I guess I can dig as +well as anybody. I’ve had experience in diggin’ ever since I was +ten year old.” + +“Not digging gold, I suppose?” + +“Diggin’ potatoes, and sich.” + +“I’m going to the mines myself, Mr. Bickford. What do you say to +going along with me?” + +“I’m on hand. You know the way, don’t you?” + +“We can find it, I have no doubt. I have never been there, but my +friend Mr. Watson is an experienced miner.” + +“How much gold did you dig?” asked Joshua bluntly. + +“Two thousand dollars,” answered Watson, not thinking it necessary +to add that he had parted with the money since at the gaming-table. + +“Two thousand dollars?” exclaimed Joshua, duly impressed. “That’s a +heap of money!” + +“Yes; it’s a pretty good pile.” + +“I’d like to get that much. I know what I’d do.” + +“What would you do, Mr. Bickford?” + +“I’d go home and marry Sukey Smith, by gosh!” + +“Then I hope you’ll get the money, for Miss Smith’s sake.” + +“There’s a feller hangin’ round her,” said Joshua, “kinder +slick-lookin’, with his hair parted in the middle; he tends in the +dry-goods store; but, if I come home with two thousand dollars, +she’ll have me, I guess. Why, with two thousand dollars I can buy +the farm next to dad’s, with a house with five rooms into it, and +a good-sized barn. I guess Sukey wouldn’t say no to me then, but +would change her name to Bickford mighty sudden.” + +“I hope you will succeed in your plans, Mr. Bickford.” + +“Seems to me you’re kinder young to be out here,” said Bickford, +turning his attention to Joe. + +“Yes; I am not quite old enough to think of marrying.” + +“Have you got money enough to get out to the mines?” asked Joshua +cautiously. + +“I think I can raise enough,” said Joe, smiling. + +“My young friend is the owner of this restaurant,” said Watson. + +“You don’t say! I thought you hired him.” + +“No. On the contrary, I am in his employ. I have agreed to run the +restaurant for him while he is at the mines.” + +“You don’t say!” exclaimed Bickford, surveying our hero with +curiosity. “Have you made much money in this eating-house?” + +“I’ve done pretty well,” said Joe modestly. “I own the building and +the two adjoining lots.” + +“You don’t say! How old be you?” + +“Sixteen.” + +“You must be all-fired smart!” + +“I don’t know about that, Mr. Bickford. I’ve been lucky and fallen +in with good friends.” + +“Well, I guess Californy’s the place to make money. I ain’t made +any yet, but I mean to. There wasn’t no chance to get ahead in +Pumpkin Hollow. I was workin’ for eight dollars a month and board.” + +“It would be a great while before you could save up money to buy a +farm out of that, Mr. Bickford.” + +“That’s so.” + +“My experience was something like yours. Before I came out here I +was working on a farm.” + +“Sho!” + +“And I didn’t begin to get as much money as you. I was bound out +to a farmer for my board and clothes. The board was fair but the +clothes were few and poor.” + +“You don’t say!” + +“I hope you will be as lucky as I have been.” + +“How much are you worth now?” asked Joshua curiously. + +“From one to two thousand dollars, I expect.” + +“Sho! I never did! How long have you been out here?” + +“Three months.” + +“Je-rusalem! That’s better than stayin’ to hum.” + +“I think so.” + +By this time Mr. Bickford had completed his breakfast and in an +anxious tone he inquired: + +“What’s the damage?” + +“Oh, I won’t charge you anything, as you are going to be my +traveling companion,” said Joe. + +“You’re a gentleman, by gosh!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford, in +unrestrained delight. + +“Come in at one o’clock and you shall have some of your favorite +beans and nothing to pay. Can you start for the mines to-morrow?” + +“Yes--I’ve got nothin’ to prepare.” + +“Take your meals here till we go.” + +“Well, I’m in luck,” said Bickford. “Victuals cost awful out here +and I haven’t had as much as I wanted to eat since I got here.” + +“Consider yourself my guest,” said Joe, “and eat all you want to.” + +It may be remarked that Mr. Bickford availed himself of our young +hero’s invitation, and during the next twenty-four hours stowed +away enough provisions to last an ordinary man for half a week. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE MAN FROM PIKE COUNTY + + +Four days later Joe and his Yankee friend, mounted on mustangs, +were riding through a cañon a hundred miles from San Francisco. It +was late in the afternoon, and the tall trees shaded the path on +which they were traveling. The air was unusually chilly and after +the heat of midday they felt it. + +“I don’t feel like campin’ out to-night,” said Bickford. “It’s too +cool.” + +“I don’t think we shall find any hotels about here,” said Joe. + +“Don’t look like it. I’d like to be back in Pumpkin Hollow just for +to-night. How fur is it to the mines, do you calc’late?” + +“We are probably about half-way. We ought to reach the Yuba River +inside of a week.” + +Here Mr. Bickford’s mustang deliberately stopped and began to +survey the scenery calmly. + +“What do you mean, you pesky critter?” demanded Joshua. + +The mustang turned his head and glanced composedly at the burden he +was carrying. + +“G’lang!” said Joshua, and he brought down his whip on the flanks +of the animal. + +It is not in mustang nature to submit to such an outrage without +expressing proper resentment. The animal threw up its hind legs, +lowering its head at the same time, and Joshua Bickford, describing +a sudden somersault, found himself sitting down on the ground a few +feet in front of his horse, not seriously injured, but considerably +bewildered. + +“By gosh!” he ejaculated. + +“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to dismount, Mr. Bickford?” +asked Joe, his eyes twinkling with merriment. + +“Because I didn’t know it myself,” said Joshua, rising and rubbing +his jarred frame. + +The mustang did not offer to run away, but stood calmly surveying +him as if it had had nothing to do with his rider’s sudden +dismounting. + +“Darn the critter! He looks just as if nothing had happened,” said +Joshua. “He served me a mean trick.” + +“It was a gentle hint that he was tired,” said Joe. + +“Darn the beast! I don’t like his hints,” said Mr. Bickford. + +He prepared to mount the animal, but the latter rose on its hind +legs and very clearly intimated that the proposal was not agreeable. + +“What’s got into the critter?” said Joshua. + +“He wants to rest. Suppose we rest here for half-an-hour, while we +loosen check-rein and let the horses graze.” + +“Just as you say.” + +Joshua’s steed appeared pleased with the success of his little hint +and lost no time in availing himself of the freedom accorded him. + +“I wish I was safe at the mines,” said Joshua. “What would dad say +if he knowed where I was, right out here in the wilderness? It +looks as we might be the only human critters in the world. There +ain’t no house in sight, nor any signs of man’s ever bein’ here.” + +“So we can fancy how Adam felt when he was set down in Paradise,” +said Joe. + +“I guess he felt kinder lonely.” + +“Probably he did, till Eve came. He had Eve, and I have you for +company.” + +“I guess Eve wasn’t much like me,” said Joshua, with a grin. + +He was lying at full length on the greensward, looking awkward and +ungainly enough, but his countenance, homely as it was, looked +honest and trustworthy, and Joe preferred his company to that of +many possessed of more outward polish. He could not help smiling at +Mr. Bickford’s remark. + +“Probably Eve was not as robust as you are,” he replied, “I doubt +if she were as tall, either. But as to loneliness, it is better to +be lonely than to have some company.” + +“There ain’t no suspicious characters round, are there?” inquired +Joshua anxiously. + +“We are liable to meet them--men who have been unsuccessful at the +mines and who have become desperate in consequence, and others who +came out here to prey upon others. That’s what I hear.” + +“Do you think we shall meet any of the critters?” asked Joshua. + +“I hope not. They wouldn’t find it very profitable to attack us. We +haven’t much money.” + +“I haven’t,” said Joshua. “I couldn’t have got to the mines if you +hadn’t lent me a few dollars.” + +“You have your animal. You can sell him for something.” + +“If he agrees to carry me so far,” said Mr. Bickford, gazing +doubtfully at the mustang, who was evidently enjoying his evening +repast. + +“Oh, a hearty meal will make him good-natured. That is the way it +acts with boys and men, and animals are not so very different.” + +“I guess you’re right,” said Joshua. “When I wanted to get a favor +out of dad, I always used to wait till the old man had got his +belly full. That made him kinder good-natured.” + +“I see you understand human nature, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe. + +“I guess I do,” said Joshua complacently. “Great Jehoshaphat, who’s +that?” + +Joe raised his head and saw riding toward them a man who might have +sat for the photograph of a bandit without any alteration in his +countenance or apparel. He wore a red flannel shirt, pants of rough +cloth, a Mexican sombrero, had a bowie-knife stuck in his girdle, +and displayed a revolver rather ostentatiously. His hair, which he +wore long, was coarse and black, and he had a fierce mustache. + +“Is he a robber?” asked Joshua uneasily. + +“Even if he is,” said Joe, “we are two to one. I dare say he’s all +right, but keep your weapon ready.” + +Though Joe was but a boy and Bickford a full-grown man, from +the outset he had assumed the command of the party, and issued +directions which his older companion followed implicitly. The +explanation is that Joe had a mind of his own, and decided promptly +what was best to be done, while his long-limbed associate was +duller witted and undecided. + +Joe and Joshua maintained their sitting position till the stranger +was within a rod or two, when he hailed them. + +“How are ye, strangers?” he said. + +“Pretty comfortable,” said Joshua, reassured by his words. “How +fare you?” + +“You’re a Yank, ain’t you?” said the newcomer, disregarding +Joshua’s question. + +“I reckon so. Where might you hail from?” + +“I’m from Pike County, Missouri,” was the answer. “You’ve heard of +Pike, hain’t you?” + +“I don’t know as I have,” said Mr. Bickford. + +The stranger frowned. + +“You must have been born in the woods not to have heard of Pike +County,” he said. “The smartest fighters come from Pike. I kin whip +my weight in wildcats, am a match for a dozen Indians to onst, and +can tackle a lion without flinchin’.” + +“Sho!” said Joshua, considerably impressed. + +“Won’t you stop and rest with us?” said Joe politely. + +“I reckon I will,” said the Pike man, getting off his beast. “You +don’t happen to have a bottle of whisky with you, strangers?” + +“No,” said Joe. + +The newcomer looked disappointed. + +“I wish you had,” said he. “I feel as dry as a tinder-box. Where +might you be travelin’?” + +“We are bound for the mines on the Yuba River.” + +“That’s a long way off.” + +“Yes, it’s four or five days’ ride.” + +“I’ve been there, and I don’t like it. It’s too hard work for a +gentleman.” + +This was uttered in such a magnificent tone of disdain that Joe was +rather amused at the fellow. In his red shirt and coarse breeches, +and brown, not overclean skin, he certainly didn’t look much like a +gentleman in the conventional sense of that term. + +“It’s all well enough to be a gentleman if you’ve got money to fall +back on,” remarked Joshua sensibly. + +“Is that personal?” demanded the Pike County man, frowning and half +rising. + +“It’s personal to me,” said Joshua quietly. + +“I accept the apology,” said the newcomer, sinking back upon the +turf. + +“I hain’t apologized, as I’m aware,” said Joshua, who was no craven. + +“You’d better not rile me, stranger,” said the Pike man fiercely. +“You don’t know me, you don’t. I’m a rip-tail roarer, I am. I +always kill a man who insults me.” + +“So do we,” said Joe quietly. + +The Pike County man looked at Joe in some surprise. He had expected +to frighten the boy with his bluster, but it didn’t seem to produce +the effect intended. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +A DESPERADO + + +Mr. Bickford also seemed a little surprised at Joe’s coolness. +Though not a coward in the face of danger, he had been somewhat +impressed by the fierce aspect of the man from Pike County, and +really looked upon him as a reckless daredevil who was afraid of +nothing. Joe judged him more truly. He decided that a man who +boasted so loudly was a sham. If he had talked less, he would have +feared him more. + +After his last bloodthirsty declaration the man from Pike County +temporarily subsided. + +He drew out from his pocket a greasy pack of cards, and after +skilfully shuffling them inquired: + +“What do you say, strangers, to a little game to pass away the +time?” + +“I never played keards in my life,” said Joshua Bickford. + +“Where was you raised?” demanded the Pike man contemptuously. + +“Pumpkin Hollow, State o’ Maine,” said Joshua. “Dad’s an orthodox +deacon. He never let any of us play keards. I don’t know one from +t’other.” + +“I’ll learn you,” said the Pike man condescendingly. “Suppose we +have a game of poker?” + +“Ain’t that a gambling’ game?” inquired Joshua. + +“We always play for something,” said the Pike man. “It’s dern +foolishness playin’ for nothing. Shall we have a game?” + +He looked at Joe as he spoke. + +“I don’t care to play,” said our hero. “I don’t know much about +cards, and I don’t want to play for money.” + +“That’s dern foolishness,” said the stranger, whose object it was +to clean out his new friends, being an expert gambler. + +“Perhaps it is,” said Joe, “but I only speak for myself. Mr. +Bickford may feel differently.” + +“Will you take a hand, Bickford?” asked the Pike man, thinking +it possible that Joshua might have some money of which he could +relieve him. + +“You kin show me how to play if you want to,” said Joshua, “but I +won’t gamble any.” + +The Pike man put up his pack of cards in disgust. + +“Derned if I ever met sich fellers!” he said. “You’re Methodists, +ain’t you?” + +“We generally decline doing what we don’t want to do,” said Joe. + +“Look here, boy,” blustered the Pike man, “I reckon you don’t know +me. I’m from Pike County, Missouri, I am. I’m a rip-tail roarer, I +am. I kin whip my weight in wildcats.” + +“You told us that afore,” said Joshua placidly. + +“Derned if I don’t mean it, too!” exclaimed the Pike County man, +with a fierce frown. “Do you know how I served a man last week?” + +“No. Tell us, won’t you?” said Joshua. + +“We was ridin’ together over in Alameda County. We’d met +permiscuous, like we’ve met to-day. I was tellin’ him how four +b’ars attacked me once, and I fit ’em all single-handed, when he +laughed, and said he reckoned I’d been drinkin’ and saw double. If +he’d knowed me better, he wouldn’t have done it.” + +“What did you do?” asked Joshua, interested. + +Joe, who was satisfied that the fellow was romancing, did not +exhibit any interest. + +“What did I do?” echoed the Pike County man fiercely. “I told him +he didn’t know the man he insulted. I told him I was from Pike +County, Missouri, and that I was a rip-tail roarer.” + +“And could whip your weight in wildcats,” suggested Joe. + +The Pike man appeared irritated. + +“Don’t interrupt me, boy,” he said. “It ain’t healthy.” + +“After you’d made them remarks what did you do?” inquired Joshua. + +“I told him he’d insulted me and must fight. I always do that.” + +“Did he fight?” + +“He had to.” + +“How did it come out?” + +“I shot him through the heart,” said the man from Pike County +fiercely. “His bones are bleaching in the valley where he fell.” + +“Sho!” said Joshua. + +The Pike County man looked from one to the other to see what effect +had been produced by his blood-curdling narration. Joshua looked +rather perplexed, as if he didn’t quite know what to think, but Joe +seemed tranquil. + +“I think you said it happened last week,” said Joe. + +“If I said so, it is so,” said the Pike man, who in truth did not +remember what time he had mentioned. + +“I don’t question that. I was only wondering how his bones could +begin to bleach so soon after he was killed.” + +“Just so,” said Joshua, to whom this difficulty had not presented +itself before. + +“Do you doubt my word, stranger?” exclaimed the Pike man, putting +his hand to his side and fingering his knife. + +“Not at all,” said Joe. “But I wanted to understand how it was.” + +“I don’t give no explanations,” said the Pike man haughtily, “and I +allow no man to doubt my word.” + +“Look here, my friend,” said Joshua, “ain’t you rather +cantankerous?” + +“What’s that?” demanded the other suspiciously. + +“No offense,” said Joshua, “but you take a feller up so we don’t +know exactly how to talk to you.” + +“I take no insults,” said the Pike man. “Insults must be washed out +in blood.” + +“Soap-suds is better than blood for washin’ purposes,” said Joshua +practically. “Seems to me you’re spoilin’ for a fight all the time.” + +“I allow I am,” said the Pike man, who regarded this as a +compliment. “I was brought up on fightin’. When I was a boy I could +whip any boy in school.” + +“That’s why they called you a rip-tail roarer, I guess,” said +Joshua. + +“You’re right, stranger,” said the Pike man complacently. + +“What did you do when the teacher give you a lickin’?” asked Mr. +Bickford. + +“What did I do?” yelled the Pike County man, with a demoniac frown. + +“Exactly so.” + +“I shot him!” said the Pike man briefly. + +“Sho! How many teachers did you shoot when you was a boy?” + +“Only one. The rest heard of it and never dared touch me.” + +“So you could play hookey and cut up all you wanted to?” + +“You’re right, stranger.” + +“They didn’t manage that way at Pumpkin Hollow,” said Mr. Bickford. +“Boys ain’t quite so handy with shootin’-irons. When the master +flogged us we had to stand it.” + +“Were you afraid of him?” asked the Pike man disdainfully. + +“Well, I was,” Joshua admitted. “He was a big man with arms just +like flails, and the way he used to pound us was a caution.” + +“I’d have shot him in his tracks,” said the Pike man fiercely. + +“You’d have got a wallopin’ fust, I reckon,” said Joshua. + +“Do you mean to insult me?” demanded the Pike man. + +“Oh, lay down, and don’t be so cantankerous,” said Joshua. “You’re +allus thinkin’ of bein’ insulted.” + +“We may as well be going,” said Joe, who was thoroughly disgusted +with their new companion. + +“Just as you say, Joe,” said Joshua. “Here, you pesky critter, come +and let me mount you.” + +The mustang realized Joe’s prediction. After his hearty supper he +seemed to be quite tractable and permitted Mr. Bickford to mount +him without opposition. + +Joe also mounted his horse. + +“I’ll ride along with you if you’ve no objections,” said the Pike +man. “We kin camp together to-night.” + +So saying, he too mounted the sorry-looking steed which he had +recently dismounted. + +Joe was not hypocrite enough to say that he was welcome. He thought +it best to be candid. + +“If you are quite convinced that neither of us wishes to insult +you,” he said quietly, “you can join us. If you are bent on +quarreling, you had better ride on by yourself.” + +The Pike man frowned fiercely. + +“Boy,” he said, “I have shot a man for less than that.” + +“I carry a revolver,” said Joe quietly, “but I shan’t use it unless +it is necessary. If you are so easily offended, you’d better ride +on alone.” + +This the Pike man did not care to do. + +“You’re a strange boy,” he said, “but I reckon you’re on the +square. I’ll go along with you.” + +“I would rather you’d leave us,” thought Joe, but he merely said: +“Very well.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +TWO TRAGIC STORIES + + +They rode on for about an hour and a half. Joshua’s steed, placated +by his good supper, behaved very well. Their ride was still through +the cañon. Presently it became too dark for them to proceed. + +“Ain’t we gone about fur enough for to-night?” asked Joshua. + +“Perhaps we have,” answered Joe. + +“Here’s a good place to camp,” suggested the man from Pike County, +pointing to a small grove of trees to the right. + +“Very well; let us dismount,” said Joe. “I think we can pass the +night comfortably.” + +They dismounted, and tied their beasts together under one of the +trees. They then threw themselves down on a patch of greensward +near-by. + +“I’m gettin’ hungry,” said Joshua. “Ain’t you, Joe?” + +“Yes, Mr. Bickford. We may as well take supper.” + +Mr. Bickford produced a supper of cold, meat and bread, and placed +it between Joe and himself. + +“Won’t you share our supper?” said Joe to their companion. + +“Thank ye, stranger, I don’t mind if I do,” answered the Pike man, +with considerable alacrity. “My fodder give out this mornin’, and I +hain’t found any place to stock up.” + +He displayed such an appetite that Mr. Bickford regarded him with +anxiety. They had no more than sufficient for themselves, and the +prospect of such a boarder was truly alarming. + +“You have a healthy appetite, my friend,” he said. + +“I generally have,” said the Pike man. “You’d orter have some +whisky, strangers, to wash it down with.” + +“I’d rather have a good cup of coffee sweetened with ’lasses, sech +as marm makes to hum,” remarked Mr. Bickford. + +“Coffee is for children, whisky for strong men,” said the Roarer. + +“I prefer the coffee,” said Joe. + +“Are you temperance fellers?” inquired the Pike man contemptuously. + +“I am,” said Joe. + +“And I, too,” said Joshua. + +“Bah!” said the other disdainfully; “I’d as soon drink skim-milk. +Good whisky or brandy for me.” + +“I wish we was to your restaurant, Joe,” said Joshua. “I kinder +hanker after some good baked beans. Baked beans and brown bread are +scrumptious. Ever eat ’em, stranger?” + +“No,” said the Pike man; “none of your Yankee truck for me.” + +“I guess you don’t know what’s good,” said Mr. Bickford. “What’s +your favorite vittles?” + +“Bacon and hominy, hoe-cakes and whisky.” + +“Well,” said Joshua, “it depends on the way a feller is brung +up. I go for baked beans and brown bread, and punkin pie--that’s +goloptious. Ever eat punkin pie, stranger?” + +“Yes.” + +“Like it?” + +“I don’t lay much on it.” + +Supper was over and other subjects succeeded. The Pike County man +became social. + +“Strangers,” said he, “did you ever hear of the affair I had with +Jack Scott?” + +“No,” said Joshua. “Spin it off, will you?” + +“Jack and me used to be a heap together. We went huntin’ together, +camped out for weeks together, and was like two brothers. One day +we was ridin’ out, when a deer started up fifty rods ahead. We both +raised our guns and shot at him. There was only one bullet into +him, and I knowed that was mine.” + +“How did you know it?” inquired Joshua. + +“Don’t you get curious, stranger. I knowed it, and that was enough. +But Jack said it was his. ‘It’s my deer,’ he said, ‘for you missed +your shot.’ ‘Look here, Jack,’ said I, ‘you’re mistaken. You missed +it. Don’t you think I know my own bullet?’ ‘No, I don’t,’ said +he. ‘Jack,’ said I calmly, ‘don’t talk that way. It’s dangerous.’ +‘Do you think I’m afraid of you?’ he said, turning on me. ‘Jack,’ +said I, ‘don’t provoke me. I can whip my weight in wildcats.’ ‘You +can’t whip me,’ said he. That was too much for me to stand. I’m +the Rip-tail Roarer from Pike County, Missouri, and no man can +insult me and live. ‘Jack,’ said I, ‘we’ve been friends, but you’ve +insulted me, and it must be washed out in blood.’ Then I up with my +we’pon and shot him through the head.” + +“Sho!” said Joshua. + +“I was sorry to do it, for he was my friend,” said the Pike County +man, “but he disputed my word, and the man that does that may as +well make his will if he’s got any property to leave.” + +Here the speaker looked to see what effect was produced upon his +listeners. Joe seemed indifferent. He saw through the fellow, and +did not credit a word he said. Joshua had been more credulous at +first, but he, too, began to understand the man from Pike County. +The idea occurred to him to pay him back in his own coin. + +“Didn’t the relatives make any fuss about it?” he inquired. “Didn’t +they arrest you for murder?” + +“They didn’t dare to,” said the Pike man proudly. “They knew me. +They knew I could whip my weight in wildcats and wouldn’t let no +man insult me.” + +“Did you leave the corpse lyin’ out under the trees?” asked Joshua. + +“I rode over to Jack’s brother and told him what I had done, and +where he’d find the body. He went and buried it.” + +“What about the deer?” + +“What deer?” + +“The deer you killed and your friend claimed?” + +“Oh,” said the Pike man, with sudden recollection, “I told Jack’s +brother he might have it.” + +“Now, that was kinder handsome, considerin’ you’d killed your +friend on account of it.” + +“There ain’t nothin’ mean about me,” said the man from Pike County. + +“I see there ain’t,” said Mr. Bickford dryly. “It reminds me of +a little incident in my own life. I’ll tell you about it, if you +hain’t any objection.” + +“Go ahead. It’s your deal.” + +“You see, the summer I was eighteen, my cousin worked for dad +hayin’ time. He was a little older’n me, and he had a powerful +appetite, Bill had. If it wasn’t for that, he’d ’a’ been a nice +feller enough, but at the table he always wanted more than his +share of wittles. Now, that ain’t fair, no ways--think it is, +stranger?” + +“No! Go ahead with your story.” + +“One day we sat down to dinner. Marm had made some apple-dumplin’ +that day, and ’twas good, you bet. Well, I see Bill a-eyin’ the +dumplin’ as he shoveled in the meat and pertaters, and I knowed he +meant to get more’n his share. Now, I’m fond of dumplin’ as well as +Bill, and I didn’t like it. Well, we was both helped and went to +eatin’. When I was half through I got up to pour out some water. +When I cum back to the table Bill had put away his plate, which he +had cleaned off, and was eatin’ my dumplin’.” + +“What did you say?” inquired the gentleman from Pike, interested. + +“I said: ‘Bill, you’re my cousin, but you’ve gone too fur.’ He +laffed, and we went into the field together to mow. He was just +startin’ on his swath when I cum behind him and cut his head clean +off with my scythe.” + +Joe had difficulty in suppressing his laughter, but Mr. Bickford +looked perfectly serious. + +“Why, that was butchery!” exclaimed the Pike man, startled. “Cut +off his head with a scythe?” + +“I hated to, bein’ as he was my cousin,” said Joshua, “but I +couldn’t have him cum any of them tricks on me. I don’t see as it’s +any wuss than shootin’ a man.” + +“What did you do with his body?” asked Joe, commanding his voice. + +“Bein’ as ’twas warm weather, I thought I’d better bury him at +once.” + +“Were you arrested?” + +“Yes, and tried for murder, but my lawyer proved that I was crazy +when I did it, and so I got off.” + +“Do such things often happen at the North?” asked the Pike County +man. + +“Not so often as out here and down South, I guess,” said Joshua. +“It’s harder to get off. Sometimes a man gets hanged up North for +handlin’ his gun too careless.” + +“Did you ever kill anybody else?” asked the Pike man, eying Joshua +rather uneasily. + +“No,” said Mr. Bickford. “I shot one man in the leg and another in +the arm, but that warn’t anything serious.” + +It was hard to disbelieve Joshua, he spoke with such apparent +frankness and sincerity. The man from Pike County was evidently +puzzled, and told no more stories of his own prowess. Conversation, +died away, and presently all three were asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE EVENTS OF A NIGHT + + +The Pike County man was the first to fall asleep. Joe and Mr. +Bickford lay about a rod distant from him. When their new comrade’s +regular breathing, assured Joe that he was asleep, he said: + +“Mr. Bickford, what do you think of this man who has joined us?” + +“I think he’s the biggest liar I ever set eyes on,” said Joshua +bluntly. + +“Then you don’t believe his stories?” + +“No--do you?” + +“I believe them as much as that yarn of yours about your Cousin +Bill,” returned Joe, laughing. + +“I wanted to give him as good as he sent. I didn’t want him to do +all the lyin’.” + +“And you a deacon’s son!” exclaimed Joe, in comic expostulation. + +“I don’t know what the old man would have said if he’d heard me, or +Cousin Bill, either.” + +“Then one part is true--you have a Cousin Bill?” + +“That isn’t the only part that’s true; he did help me and dad +hayin’.” + +“But his head is still safe on his shoulders?” + +“I hope so.” + +“I don’t think we can find as much truth in the story of our friend +over yonder.” + +“Nor I. If there was a prize offered for tall lyin’ I guess he’d +stand a good chance to get it.” + +“Do you know, Joshua, fire-eater as he is, I suspect that he is a +coward.” + +“You do?” + +“Yes, and I have a mind to put him to the test.” + +“How will you do it?” + +“One day an old hunter came into my restaurant, and kept coming for +a week. He was once taken prisoner by the Indians, and remained in +their hands for three months. He taught me the Indian war-whoop, +and out of curiosity I practised it till I can do it pretty well.” + +“What’s your plan?” + +“To have you fire off your gun so as to wake him up. Then I will +give a loud war-whoop and see how it affects the gentleman from +Pike County.” + +“He may shoot us before he finds out the deception.” + +“It will be well first to remove his revolver to make all safe. +I wish you could give the war-whoop, too. It would make a louder +noise.” + +“How do you do it?” + +Joe explained. + +“I guess I can do it. You start it, and I’ll j’in in, just as I +used to do in singin’ at meetin’. I never could steer through a +tune straight by myself, but when the choir got to goin’, I helped +’em all I could.” + +“I guess you can do it. Now let us make ready.” + +The Pike County man’s revolver was removed while he was +unconsciously sleeping. Then Joshua and our hero ensconced +themselves behind trees, and the Yankee fired his gun. + +The Pike man started up, still half asleep and wholly bewildered, +when within a rod of him he heard the dreadful war-whoop. Then +another more discordant voice took up the fearful cry. Joshua did +very well considering that it was his first attempt. + +Then the man from Pike County sprang to his feet. If it had been +daylight, his face would have been seen to wear a pale and scared +expression. It did not appear to occur to him to make a stand +against the savage foes who he felt convinced were near at hand. +He stood not on the order of going, but went at once. He quickly +unloosed his beast, sprang upon his back, and galloped away without +apparently giving a thought to the companions with whom he had +camped out. + +When he was out of hearing Joe and Bickford shouted with laughter. + +“You see I was right,” said Joe. “The man’s a coward.” + +“He seemed in a hurry to get away,” said Joshua dryly. “He’s the +biggest humbug out.” + +“I thought so as soon as he began to brag so much.” + +“I believed his yarns at first,” admitted Joshua. “I thought he was +rather a dangerous fellow to travel with.” + +“He looked like a desperado, certainly,” said Joe, “but appearances +are deceitful. It’s all swagger and no real courage.” + +“Well, what shall we do now, Joe?” + +“Lie down again and go to sleep.” + +“The man’s gone off without his revolver.” + +“He’ll be back for it within a day or two. We shall be sure to fall +in with him again. I shan’t lose my sleep worrying about him.” + +The two threw themselves once more on the ground, and were soon +fast asleep. + + * * * * * + +Joe proved to be correct in his prediction concerning the +reappearance of their terrified companion. + +The next morning, when they were sitting at breakfast--that is, +sitting under a tree with their repast spread out on a paper +between them--the man from Pike County rode up. He looked haggard, +as well he might, not having ventured to sleep for fear of the +Indians, and his horse seemed weary and dragged out. + +“Where have you been?” asked Mr. Bickford innocently. + +“Chasin’ the Indians,” said the Rip-tail Roarer, swinging himself +from his saddle. + +“Sho! Be there any Indians about here?” + +“Didn’t you hear them last night?” inquired the man from Pike. + +“No.” + +“Nor you?” turning to Joe. + +“I heard nothing of any Indians,” replied Joe truthfully. + +“Then all I can say is, strangers, that you sleep uncommon sound.” + +“Nothing wakes me up,” said Bickford. “What about them Indians? Did +you railly see any?” + +“I rather think I did,” said the man from Pike. “It couldn’t have +been much after midnight when I was aroused by their war-whoop. +Starting up, I saw twenty of the red devils riding through the +cañon.” + +“Were you afraid?” + +“Afraid!” exclaimed the man from Pike contemptuously. “The Rip-tail +Roarer knows not fear. I can whip my weight in wildcats----” + +“Yes, I know you can,” interrupted Joshua. “You told us so +yesterday.” + +The man from Pike seemed rather annoyed at the interruption, but as +Mr. Bickford appeared to credit his statement he had no excuse for +quarreling. + +He proceeded. + +“Instantly I sprung to the back of my steed and gave them chase.” + +“Did they see you?” + +“They did.” + +“Why didn’t they turn upon you? You said there were twenty of them.” + +“Why?” repeated the Pike man boastfully. “They were afraid. They +recognized me as the Rip-tail Roarer. They knew that I had sent +more than fifty Indians to the happy hunting-grounds, and alone as +I was they fled.” + +“Sho!” + +“Did you kill any of them?” asked Joe. + +“When I was some distance on my way I found I had left my revolver +behind. Did you find it, stranger?” + +“There it is,” said Joshua, who had replaced it on the ground close +to where the Pike man had slept. + +He took it with satisfaction and replaced it in his girdle. + +“Then you didn’t kill any?” + +“No, but I drove them away. They won’t trouble you any more.” + +“That’s a comfort,” said Joshua. + +“Now, strangers, if you’ve got any breakfast to spare, I think I +could eat some.” + +“Set up, old man,” said Mr. Bickford, with his mouth full. + +The man from Pike did full justice to the meal. Then he asked his +two companions, as a favor, not to start for two hours, during +which he lay down and rested. + +The three kept together that day, but did not accomplish as much +distance as usual, chiefly because of the condition of their +companion’s horse. + +At night they camped out again. In the morning an unpleasant +surprise awaited them. Their companion had disappeared, taking with +him Joshua’s horse and leaving instead his own sorry nag. That was +not all. He had carried off their bag of provisions, and morning +found them destitute of food, with a hearty appetite and many miles +away, as they judged, from any settlement. + +“The mean skunk!” said Joshua. “He’s cleaned us out. What shall we +do?” + +“I don’t know,” said Joe seriously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +JOHN CHINAMAN + + +The two friends felt themselves to be in a serious strait. The +exchange of horses was annoying, but it would only lengthen their +journey a little. The loss of their whole stock of provisions could +not so readily be made up. + +“I feel holler,” said Joshua. “I never could do much before +breakfast. I wish I’d eat more supper. I would have done it, only +I was afraid, by the way that skunk pitched into ’em, we wouldn’t +have enough to last.” + +“You only saved them for him, it seems,” said Joe. “He has +certainly made a poor return for our kindness.” + +“If I could only wring his neck, I wouldn’t feel quite so hungry,” +said Joshua. + +“Or cut his head off with a scythe,” suggested Joe, smiling faintly. + +“Danged if I wouldn’t do it,” said Mr. Bickford, hunger making him +bloodthirsty. + +“We may overtake him, Mr. Bickford.” + +“You may, Joe, but I can’t. He’s left me his horse, which is clean +tuckered out, and never was any great shakes to begin with. I don’t +believe I can get ten miles out of him from now till sunset.” + +“We must keep together, no matter how slow we go. It won’t do for +us to be parted.” + +“We shall starve together likely enough,” said Joshua mournfully. + +“I’ve heard that the French eat horse-flesh. If it comes to the +worst, we can kill your horse and try a horse-steak.” + +“It’s all he’s fit for, and he ain’t fit for that. We’ll move +on for a couple of hours and see if somethin’ won’t turn up. I +tell you, Joe, I’d give all the money I’ve got for some of marm’s +johnny-cakes. It makes me feel hungrier whenever I think of ’em.” + +“I sympathize with you, Joshua,” said Joe. “We may as well be +movin’ on, as you suggest. We may come to some cabin, or party of +travelers.” + +So they mounted their beasts and started. Joe went ahead, for +his animal was much better than the sorry nag which Mr. Bickford +bestrode. The latter walked along with an air of dejection, as if +life were a burden to him. + +“If I had this critter at home, Joe, I’ll tell you what I’d do with +him,” said Mr. Bickford, after a pause. + +“Well, what would you do with him?” + +“I’d sell him to a sexton. He’d be a first-class animal to go to +funerals. No danger of his runnin’ away with the hearse.” + +“You are not so hungry but you can joke, Joshua.” + +“It’s no joke,” returned Mr. Bickford. “If we don’t raise a supply +of provisions soon, I shall have to attend my own funeral. My mind +keeps running on them johnny-cakes.” + +They rode on rather soberly, for the exercise and the fresh morning +air increased their appetites, which were keen when they started. + +Mr. Bickford no longer felt like joking, and Joe at every step +looked anxiously around him, in the hope of espying relief. + +On a sudden, Mr. Bickford rose in his stirrups and exclaimed in a +tone of excitement: + +“I see a cabin!” + +“Where?” + +“Yonder,” said the Yankee, pointing to a one-story shanty, perhaps +a quarter of a mile away. + +“Is it inhabited, I wonder?” + +“I don’t know. Let us go and see.” + +The two spurred their horses, and at length reached the rude +building which had inspired them with hope. The door was open, but +no one was visible. + +Joshua was off his horse in a twinkling and peered in. + +“Hooray!” he shouted in rejoicing accents. “Breakfast’s ready.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“I mean that I’ve found something to eat.” + +On a rude table was an earthen platter full of boiled rice and a +stale loaf beside it. + +“Pitch in, Joe,” said Joshua. “I’m as hungry as a wolf.” + +“This food belongs to somebody. I suppose we have no right to it.” + +“Right be hanged. A starving man has a right to eat whatever he can +find.” + +“Suppose it belongs to a fire-eater, or a man from Pike County?” + +“We’ll eat first and fight afterward.” + +Joe did not feel like arguing the matter. There was an advocate +within him which forcibly emphasized Joshua’s arguments, and he +joined in the banquet. + +“This bread is dry as a chip,” said Mr. Bickford. “But no matter. I +never thought dry bread would taste so good. I always thought rice +was mean vittles, but it goes to the right place just now.” + +“I wonder if any one will have to go hungry on our account?” said +Joe. + +“I hope not, but I can’t help it,” returned Mr. Bickford. +“Necessity’s the fust law of nature, Joe. I feel twice as strong as +I did twenty minutes ago.” + +“There’s nothing like a full stomach, Joshua. I wonder to whom we +are indebted for this repast?” + +Joe was not long in having his query answered. An exclamation, as +of one startled, called the attention of the two friends to the +doorway, where, with a terrified face, stood a Chinaman, his broad +face indicating alarm. + +“It’s a heathen Chinee, by gosh!” exclaimed Joshua. + +Even at that time Chinese immigrants had begun to arrive in San +Francisco, and the sight was not wholly new either to Joshua or Joe. + +“Good morning, John,” said our young hero pleasantly. + +“Good morning, heathen,” said Mr. Bickford. “We thought we’d come +round and make you a mornin’ call. Is your family well?” + +The Chinaman was reassured by the friendly tone of his visitors, +and ventured to step in. He at once saw that the food which he had +prepared for himself had disappeared. + +“Melican man eat John’s dinner,” he remarked in a tone of +disappointment. + +“So we have, John,” said Mr. Bickford. “The fact is, we were +hungry--hadn’t had any breakfast.” + +“Suppose Melican man eat--he pay,” said the Chinaman. + +“That’s all right,” said Joe; “we are willing to pay. How much do +you want?” + +The Chinaman named his price, which was not unreasonable, and it +was cheerfully paid. + +“Have you got some more bread and rice, John?” asked Mr. Bickford. +“We’d like to buy some and take it along.” + +They succeeded in purchasing a small supply--enough with economy to +last a day or two. This was felt as a decided relief. In two days +they might fall in with another party of miners or come across a +settlement. + +They ascertained on inquiry that the Chinaman and another of his +nationality had come out like themselves to search for gold. They +had a claim at a short distance from which they had obtained a +small supply of gold. The cabin they had found in its present +condition. It had been erected and deserted the previous year by a +party of white miners, who were not so easily satisfied as the two +Chinamen. + +“Well,” said Joshua, after they had started on their way, “that’s +the first time I ever dined at a Chinee hotel.” + +“We were lucky in coming across it,” said Joe. + +“The poor fellow looked frightened when he saw us gobblin’ up his +provisions,” said Mr. Bickford, laughing at the recollection. + +“But we left him pretty well satisfied. We didn’t treat him as the +gentleman from Pike treated us.” + +“No--I wouldn’t be so mean as that darned skunk. It makes me mad +whenever I look at this consumptive hoss he’s left behind.” + +“You didn’t make much out of that horse trade, Mr. Bickford.” + +“I didn’t, but I’ll get even with him some time if we ever meet +again.” + +“Do you know where he was bound?” + +“No--he didn’t say.” + +“I dare say it’ll all come right in the end. At any rate, we shan’t +starve for the next forty-eight hours.” + +So in better spirits the two companions kept on their way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +ON THE YUBA RIVER + + +On the following day Joe and his comrade fell in with a party of +men who, like themselves, were on their way to the Yuba River. They +were permitted to join them, and made an arrangement for a share of +the provisions. This removed all anxiety and insured their reaching +their destination without further adventure. + +The banks of the Yuba presented a busy and picturesque appearance. +On the banks was a line of men roughly clad, earnestly engaged in +scooping out gravel and pouring it into a rough cradle, called a +rocker. This was rocked from side to side until the particles of +gold, if there were any, settled at the bottom and were picked out +and gathered into bags. At the present time there are improved +methods of separating gold from the earth, but the rocker is still +employed by Chinese miners. + +In the background were tents and rude cabins, and there was the +unfailing accessory of a large mining-camp, the gambling tent, +where the banker, like a wily spider, lay in wait to appropriate +the hard-earned dust of the successful miner. + +Joe and his friend took their station a few rods from the river and +gazed at the scene before them. + +“Well, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe, “the time has come when we are to +try our luck.” + +“Yes,” said Joshua. “Looks curious, doesn’t it? If I didn’t know, +I’d think them chaps fools, stoopin’ over there and siftin’ mud. It +’minds me of when I was a boy and used to make dirt pies.” + +“Suppose we take a day and look round a little. Then we can find +out about how things are done, and work to better advantage.” + +“Just as you say, Joe, I must go to work soon, for I hain’t nary +red.” + +“I’ll stand by you, Mr. Bickford.” + +“You’re a fust-rate feller, Joe. You seem to know just what to do.” + +“It isn’t so long since I was a greenhorn and allowed myself to be +taken in by Hogan.” + +“You’ve cut your eye-teeth since then.” + +“I have had some experience of the world, but I may get taken in +again.” + +Joe and his friend found the miners social and very ready to give +them information. + +“How much do I make a day?” said one in answer to a question from +Joshua. “Well, it varies. Sometimes I make ten dollars, and from +that all the way up to twenty-five. Once I found a piece worth +fifty dollars. I was in luck then.” + +“I should say you were,” said Mr. Bickford. “The idea of findin’ +fifty dollars in the river. It looks kind of strange, don’t it, +Joe?” + +“Are any larger pieces ever found here?” asked Joe. + +“Sometimes.” + +“I have seen larger nuggets on exhibition in San Francisco, worth +several hundred dollars. Are any such to be found here?” + +“Generally they come from the dry diggings. We don’t often find +such specimens in the river washings. But these are more reliable.” + +“Can a man save money here?” + +“If he’ll be careful of what he gets. But much of our dust goes +there.” + +He pointed, as he spoke, to a small cabin, used as a store and +gambling den at one and the same time. There in the evening the +miners collected, and by faro, poker, or monte managed to lose all +that they had washed out during the day. + +“That’s the curse of our mining settlement,” said their informant. +“But for the temptations which the gaming-house offers, many +whom you see working here would now be on their way home with a +comfortable provision for their families. I never go there, but +then I am in the minority.” + +“What did you used to do when you was to hum?” inquired Joshua, +who was by nature curious and had no scruples about gratifying his +curiosity. + +“I used to keep school winters. In the spring and summer I assisted +my father on his farm down in Maine.” + +“You don’t say you’re from Maine? Why, I’m from Maine myself,” +remarked Joshua. + +“Indeed! Whereabouts in Maine did you live?” + +“Pumpkin Hollow.” + +“I kept school in Pumpkin Hollow one winter.” + +“You don’t say so? What is your name?” inquired Joshua earnestly. + +“John Kellogg.” + +“I thought so!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford, excited. + +“Why, I used to go to school to you, Mr. Kellogg.” + +“It is nine years ago, and you must have changed so much that I +cannot call you to mind.” + +“Don’t you remember a tall, slab-sided youngster of thirteen, that +used to stick pins into your chair for you to set on?” + +Kellogg smiled. + +“Surely you are not Joshua Bickford?” he said. + +“Yes, I am. I am that same identical chap.” + +“I am glad to see you, Mr. Bickford,” said his old school-teacher, +grasping Joshua’s hand cordially. + +“It seems kinder queer for you to call me Mr. Bickford.” + +“I wasn’t so ceremonious in the old times,” said Kellogg. + +“No, I guess not. You’d say, ‘Come here, Joshua,’ and you’d jerk +me out of my seat by the collar. ‘Did you stick that pin in my +chair?’ That’s the way you used to talk. And then you’d give me an +all-fired lickin’.” + +Overcome by the mirthful recollections, Joshua burst into an +explosive fit of laughter, in which presently he was joined by Joe +and his old teacher. + +“I hope you’ve forgiven me for those whippings, Mr. Bickford.” + +“They were jest what I needed, Mr. Kellogg. I was a lazy young +rascal, as full of mischief as a nut is of meat. You tanned my hide +well.” + +“You don’t seem to be any the worse for it now.” + +“I guess not. I’m pretty tough. I say, Mr. Kellogg,” continued +Joshua, with a grin, “you’d find it a harder job to give me a +lickin’ now than you did then.” + +“I wouldn’t undertake it now. I am afraid you could handle me.” + +“It seems cur’us, don’t it, Joe?” said Joshua. “When Mr. Kellogg +used to haul me round the schoolroom, it didn’t seem as if I could +ever be a match for him.” + +“We change with the passing years,” said Kellogg, in a moralizing +tone, which recalled his former vocation. “Now you are a man, and +we meet here on the other side of the continent, on the banks of +the Yuba River. I hope we are destined to be successful.” + +“I hope so, too,” said Joshua, “for I’m reg’larly cleaned out.” + +“If I can help you any in the way of information, I shall be glad +to do so.” + +Joe and Bickford took him at his word and made many inquiries, +eliciting important information. + +The next day they took their places farther down the river and +commenced work. + +Their inexperience at first put them at a disadvantage. They were +awkward and unskilful, as might have been expected. Still, at the +end of the first day each had made about five dollars. + +“That’s something,” said Joe. + +“If I could have made five dollars in one day in Pumpkin Hollow,” +said Mr. Bickford, “I would have felt like a rich man. Here it +costs a feller so much to live that he don’t think much of it.” + +“We shall improve as we go along. Wait till to-morrow night.” + +The second day brought each about twelve dollars, and Joshua felt +elated. + +“I’m gettin’ the hang of it,” said he. “As soon as I’ve paid up +what I owe you, I’ll begin to lay by somethin’.” + +“I don’t want you to pay me till you are worth five hundred +dollars, Mr. Bickford. The sum is small, and I don’t need it.” + +“Thank you, Joe. You’re a good friend. I’ll stick by you if you +ever want help.” + +In the evening the camp presented a lively appearance. + +When it was chilly, logs would be brought from the woods, and a +bright fire would be lighted, around which the miners would sit +and talk of home and their personal adventures and experiences. +One evening Mr. Bickford and Joe were returning from a walk, when, +as they approached the camp-fire, they heard a voice that sounded +familiar, and caught these words: + +“I’m from Pike County, Missouri, gentlemen. They call me the +Rip-tail Roarer. I can whip my weight in wildcats.” + +“By gosh!” exclaimed Joshua, “if it ain’t that skunk from Pike. I +mean to tackle him.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +JUDGE LYNCH PRONOUNCES SENTENCE + + +The gentleman from Pike was sitting on a log, surrounded by miners, +to whom he was relating his marvelous exploits. The number of +Indians, grizzly bears, and enemies generally, which, according +to his account, he had overcome and made way with, was simply +enormous. Hercules was nothing to him. It can hardly be said that +his listeners credited his stories. They had seen enough of life +to be pretty good judges of human nature, and regarded them as +romances which served to while away the time. + +“It seems to me, my friend,” said Kellogg, who, it will be +remembered, had been a schoolmaster, “that you are a modern +Hercules.” + +“Who’s he?” demanded the Pike man suspiciously, for he had never +heard of the gentleman referred to. + +“He was a great hero of antiquity,” exclaimed Kellogg, “who did +many wonderful feats.” + +“That’s all right, then,” said the Pike man. “If you’re friendly, +then I’m friendly. But if any man insults me he’ll find he’s +tackled the wrong man. I can whip my weight in wildcats----” + +Here he was subjected to an interruption. + +Mr. Bickford could no longer suppress his indignation when at a +little distance he saw his mustang, which this treacherous braggart +had robbed him of, quietly feeding. + +“Look here, old Rip-tail, or whatever you call yourself, I’ve got +an account to settle with you.” + +The Pike man started as he heard Mr. Bickford’s voice, which, being +of a peculiar nasal character, he instantly recognized. He felt +that the meeting was an awkward one, and he would willingly have +avoided it. He decided to bluff Joshua off if possible, and, as the +best way of doing it, to continue his game of brag. + +“Who dares to speak to me thus?” he demanded with a heavy frown, +looking in the opposite direction. “Who insults the Rip-tail +Roarer?” + +“Look this way if you want to see him,” said Joshua. “Put on your +specs if your eyes ain’t good.” + +The man from Pike could no longer evade looking at his late +comrade. He pretended not to know him. + +“Stranger,” said he, with one hand on the handle of his knife, “are +you tired of life?” + +“I am neither tired of life nor afraid of you,” said Joshua +manfully. + +“You don’t know me, or----” + +“Yes, I do. You’re the man that says he can whip his weight in +wildcats. I don’t believe you dare to face your weight in tame +cats.” + +“Sdeath!” roared the bully. “Do you want to die on the spot?” + +“Not particularly, old Rip-tail. Don’t talk sech nonsense. I’ll +trouble you to tell me why you stole my horse on the way out here.” + +“Let me get at him,” said the Pike man in a terrible voice, but not +offering to get up from the log. + +“Nobody henders your gettin’ at me,” said Mr. Bickford composedly. +“But that ain’t answerin’ my question.” + +“If I didn’t respect them two gentlemen too much, I’d shoot you +where you stand,” said the Pike man. + +“I’ve got a shootin’-iron myself, old Rip-tail, and I’m goin’ to +use it if necessary.” + +“What have you to say in answer to this man’s charge?” asked one of +the miners, a large man who was looked upon as the leader of the +company. “He charges you with taking his horse.” + +“He lies!” said the man from Pike. + +“Be keerful, old Rip-tail,” said Mr. Bickford in a warning tone. “I +don’t take sass any more than you do.” + +“I didn’t steal your horse.” + +“No, you didn’t exactly steal it, but you took it without leave and +left your own bag of bones in his place. But that wasn’t so bad as +stealin’ all our provisions and leavin’ us without a bite, out in +the wilderness. That’s what I call tarnation mean.” + +“What have you to say to these charges?” asked the mining leader +gravely. + +“Say? I say that man is mistaken. I never saw him before in my +life.” + +“Well, that’s cheeky,” said Joshua, aghast at the man’s impudence. +“Why, I know you as well as if we’d been to school together. You +are the Rip-tail Roarer. You are from Pike County, Missouri, you +are. You can whip your weight in wildcats. That’s he, gentlemen. I +leave it to you.” + +In giving the description, Joshua imitated the boastful accents of +his old comrade with such success that the assembled miners laughed +and applauded. + +“That’s he! You’ve got him!” they cried. + +“Just hear that, old Rip-tail,” said Mr. Bickford. “You see these +gentlemen here believe me and they don’t believe you.” + +“There’s a man in this here country that looks like me,” said the +Pike man, with a lame excuse. “You’ve met him, likely.” + +“That won’t go down, old Rip-tail. There ain’t but one man can whip +his weight in wildcats and tell the all-firedest yarns out. That’s +you, and there ain’t no gettin’ round it.” + +“This is a plot, gentlemen,” said the man from Pike, glancing +uneasily at the faces around him, in which he read disbelief of his +statements. “My word is as good as his.” + +“Maybe it is,” said Mr. Bickford. “I’ll call another witness. Joe, +jest tell our friends here what you know about the gentleman from +Pike. If I’m lyin’, say so, and I’ll subside and never say another +word about it.” + +“All that my friend Bickford says is perfectly true,” said Joe +modestly. “This man partook of our hospitality and then repaid us +by going off early one morning when we were still asleep, carrying +off all our provisions and exchanging his own worn-out horse for my +friend’s mustang, which was a much better animal.” + +The man from Pike had not at first seen Joe. His countenance fell +when he saw how Mr. Bickford’s case was strengthened, and for the +moment he could not think of a word to say. + +“You are sure this is the man, Joe?” asked, the leader of the +miners. + +“Yes, I will swear to it. He is not a man whom it is easy to +mistake.” + +“I believe you. Gentlemen,” turning to the miners who were sitting +or standing about him, “do you believe this stranger or our two +friends?” + +The reply was emphatic, and the man from Pike saw that he was +condemned. + +“Gentlemen,” he said, rising, “you are mistaken, and I am the +victim of a plot. It isn’t pleasant to stay where I am suspected, +and I’ll bid you good evening.” + +“Not so fast!” said the leader, putting his hand heavily on his +shoulder. “You deserve to be punished, and you shall be. Friends, +what shall we do with him?” + +“Kill him! String him up!” shouted some. + +The Rip-tail Roarer’s swarthy face grew pale as he heard these +ominous words. He knew something of the wild, stern justice of +those days. He knew that more than one for an offense like his had +expiated his crime with his life. + +“It seems to me,” said the leader, “that the man he injured should +fix the penalty. Say you so?” + +“Aye, aye!” shouted the miners. + +“Will you two,” turning to Joe and Bickford, “decide what shall be +done with this man? Shall we string him up?” + +The Pike man’s nerve gave way. + +He flung himself on his knees before Joshua and cried: + +“Mercy! mercy! Don’t let them hang me!” + +Joshua was not hard-hearted. He consulted with Joe and then said: + +“I don’t want the critter’s life. If there was any wildcats round, +I’d like to see him tackle his weight in ’em, as he says he can. As +there isn’t, let him be tied on the old nag he put off on me, with +his head to the horse’s tail, supplied with one day’s provisions, +and then turned loose!” + +This sentence was received with loud applause and laughter. + +The horse was still in camp and was at once brought out. The man +from Pike was securely tied on as directed, and then the poor beast +was belabored with whips till he started off at the top of his +speed, which his old owner, on account of his reversed position, +was unable to regulate. He was followed by shouts and jeers from +the miners, who enjoyed this act of retributive justice. + +“Mr. Bickford, you are avenged,” said Joe. + +“So I am, Joe. I’m glad I’ve got my hoss back; but I can’t help +pityin’ poor old Rip-tail, after all. I don’t believe he ever +killed a wildcat in his life.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +TAKING ACCOUNT OF STOCK + + +Three months passed. They were not eventful. The days were spent +in steady and monotonous work; the nights were passed around the +camp-fire, telling and hearing stories and talking of home. Most of +their companions gambled and drank, but Mr. Bickford and Joe kept +clear of these pitfalls. + +“Come, man, drink with me,” more than once one of his comrades said +to Joshua. + +“No, thank you,” said Joshua. + +“Why not? Ain’t I good enough?” asked the other, half offended. + +“You mean I’m puttin’ on airs ’cause I won’t drink with you? No, +sir-ree. There isn’t a man I’d drink with sooner than with you.” + +“Come up, then, old fellow. What’ll you take?” + +“I’ll take a sandwich, if you insist on it.” + +“That’s vittles. What’ll you drink?” + +“Nothing but water. That’s strong enough for me.” + +“Danged if I don’t believe you’re a minister in disguise.” + +“I guess I’d make a cur’us preacher,” said Joshua, with a comical +twist of his features. “You wouldn’t want to hear me preach more’n +once.” + +In this way our friend Mr. Bickford managed to evade the hospitable +invitations of his comrades and still retain their good-will--not +always an easy thing to achieve in those times. + +Joe was equally positive in declining to drink, but it was easier +for him to escape. Even the most confirmed drinkers felt it to be +wrong to coax a boy to drink against his will. + +There was still another--Kellogg--who steadfastly adhered to cold +water, or tea and coffee, as a beverage. These three were dubbed +by their companions the “Cold-Water Brigade,” and accepted the +designation good-naturedly. + +“Joshua,” said Joe, some three months after their arrival, “have +you taken account of stock lately?” + +“No,” said Joshua, “but I’ll do it now.” + +After a brief time he announced the result. + +“I’ve got about five hundred dollars, or thereabouts,” he said. + +“You have done a little better than I have.” + +“How much have you?” + +“About four hundred and fifty.” + +“I owe you twenty-five dollars, Joe. That’ll make us even.” + +Joshua was about to transfer twenty-five dollars to Joe, when the +latter stayed his hand. + +“Don’t be in a hurry, Mr. Bickford,” he said. “Wait till we get to +the city.” + +“Do you know, Joe,” said Joshua, in a tone of satisfaction, “I am +richer than I was when I sot out from home?” + +“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Bickford. You have worked hard, and +deserve your luck.” + +“I had only three hundred dollars then; now I’ve got four hundred +and seventy-five, takin’ out what I owe you.” + +“You needn’t take it out at all.” + +“You’ve done enough for me, Joe. I don’t want you to give me that +debt.” + +“Remember, Joshua, I have got a business in the city paying me +money all the time. I expect my share of the profits will be more +than I have earned out here.” + +“That’s good. I wish I’d got a business like you. You’d be all +right even if you only get enough to pay expenses here.” + +“That’s so.” + +“I am getting rather tired of this place, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe, +after a little pause. + +“You don’t think of going back to the city?” asked Joshua +apprehensively. + +“Not directly, but I think I should like to see a little more of +California. These are not the only diggings.” + +“Where do you want to go?” + +“I haven’t considered yet. The main thing is, will you go with me?” + +“We won’t part company, Joe.” + +“Good! Then I’ll inquire, and see what I can find out about other +places. This pays fairly, but there is little chance of getting +nuggets of any size hereabouts.” + +“I’d just like to find one worth two thousand dollars. I’d start +for home mighty quick, and give Sukey Smith a chance to become Mrs. +Bickford.” + +“Success to you!” said Joe, laughing. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +A STARTLING TABLEAU + + +Joe finally decided on some mines a hundred miles distant in +a southwesterly direction. They were reported to be rich and +promising. + +“At any rate,” said he, “even if they are no better than here, we +shall get a little variety and change of scene.” + +“That’ll be good for our appetite.” + +“I don’t think, Mr. Bickford, that either of us need be concerned +about his appetite. Mine is remarkably healthy.” + +“Nothing was ever the matter with mine,” said Joshua, “as long as +the provisions held out.” + +They made some few preparations of a necessary character. Their +clothing was in rags, and they got a new outfit at the mining +store. Each also provided himself with a rifle. The expense of +these made some inroads upon their stock of money, but by the time +they were ready to start they had eight hundred dollars between +them, besides their outfit, and this they considered satisfactory. + +Kellogg at first proposed to go with them, but finally he changed +his mind. + +“I am in a hurry to get home,” he said, “and these mines are a sure +thing. If I were as young as you, I would take the risk. As it is, +I had better not. I’ve got a wife and child at home, and I want to +go back to them as soon as I can.” + +“You are right,” said Joe. + +“I’ve got a girl at home,” said Joshua, “but I guess she’ll wait +for me.” + +“Suppose she don’t,” suggested Joe. + +“I shan’t break my heart,” said Mr. Bickford. “There’s more than +one girl in the world.” + +“I see you are a philosopher, Mr. Bickford,” said his old +schoolmaster. + +“I don’t know about that, but I don’t intend to make a fool of +myself for any gal. I shall say, ’Sukey, here I am; I’ve got a +little money, and I’m your’n till death if you say so. If you don’t +want me, I won’t commit susan-cide.” + +“That’s a capital joke, Joshua,” said Joe. “Her name is Susan, +isn’t it?” + +“Have I made a joke? Waal, I didn’t go to do it.” + +“It is unconscious wit, Mr. Bickford,” said Kellogg. + +“Pooty good joke, ain’t it?” said Joshua complacently. “Susan-cide, +and her name is Susan. Ho! ho! I never thought on’t.” + +And Joshua roared in appreciation of the joke which he had +unwittingly perpetrated, for it must be explained that he thought +susan-cide the proper form of the word expressing a voluntary +severing of the vital cord. + +Years afterward, when Joshua found himself the center of a social +throng, he was wont to say, “Ever heard that joke I made about +Susan?” and then he would cite it amid the plaudits of his friends. + +Mr. Bickford and Joe had not disposed of their horses. They had +suffered them to forage in the neighborhood of the river, thinking +it possible that the time would come when they would require them. + +One fine morning they set out from the camp near the banks of the +Yuba and set their faces in a southwesterly direction. They had +made themselves popular among their comrades, and the miners gave +them a hearty cheer as they started. + +“Good luck, Joe! Good luck, old man!” they exclaimed heartily. + +“The same to you, boy!” + +So with mutual good feeling they parted company. + +“We ain’t leavin’ like our friend from Pike County,” said Mr. +Bickford. “I often think of the poor critter trottin’ off with face +to the rear.” + +“I hope we shan’t meet him or any of his kind,” said Joe. + +“So do I. He’d better go and live among the wildcats.” + +“He is some like them. He lives upon others.” + +It would only be wearisome to give a detailed account of the +journey of the two friends. One incident will suffice. + +On the fourth day Joe suddenly exclaimed in excitement: + +“Look, Joshua!” + +“By gosh!” + +The exclamation was a natural one. At the distance of forty rods +a man was visible, his hat off, his face wild with fear, and in +dangerous proximity a grizzly bear of the largest size doggedly +pursuing him. + +“It’s Hogan!” exclaimed Joe in surprise. “We must save him.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +A GRIZZLY ON THE WAR-PATH + + +It may surprise some of my young friends to learn that the grizzly +bear is to be found in California. Though as the State has +increased in population mostly all have been killed off, even now +among the mountains they may be found, and occasionally visit the +lower slopes and attack men and beasts. + +Hogan had had the ill-luck to encounter one of these animals. + +When he first saw the grizzly there was a considerable space +between them. If he had concealed himself, he might have escaped +the notice of the beast, but when he commenced running the grizzly +became aware of his presence and started in pursuit. + +Hogan was rather dilapidated in appearance. Trusting to luck +instead of labor, he had had a hard time, as he might have +expected. His flannel shirt was ragged and his nether garments +showed the ravages of time. In the race his hat had dropped off +and his rough, unkempt hair was erect with fright. He was running +rapidly, but was already showing signs of exhaustion. The bear was +getting over the ground with clumsy speed, appearing to take it +easily, but overhauling his intended victim slowly, but surely. + +Joe and Bickford were standing on one side, and had not yet +attracted the attention of either party in this unequal race. + +“Poor chap!” said Joshua. “He looks most tuckered out. Shall I +shoot?” + +“Wait till the bear gets a little nearer. We can’t afford to miss. +He will turn on us.” + +“I’m in a hurry to roll the beast over,” said Joshua. “It’s a cruel +sight to see a grizzly hunting a man.” + +At this moment Hogan turned his head with the terror-stricken look +of a man who felt that he was lost. + +The bear was little more than a hundred feet behind him and was +gaining steadily. He was already terribly fatigued--his breathing +was reduced to a hoarse pant. He was overcome by the terror of the +situation, and his remaining strength gave way. With a shrill cry +he sank down upon the ground, and, shutting his eyes, awaited the +attack. + +The bear increased his speed. + +“Now let him have it!” said Joe in a sharp, quick whisper. + +Mr. Bickford fired, striking the grizzly in the face. + +Bruin stood still and roared angrily. He wagged his large head from +one side to the other, seeking by whom this attack was made. + +He espied the two friends, and, abandoning his pursuit of Hogan, +rolled angrily toward them. + +“Give it to him quick, Joe!” exclaimed Bickford. “He’s making for +us.” + +Joe held his rifle with steady hand and took deliberate aim. It was +well he did, for had he failed both he and Bickford would have been +in great peril. + +His faithful rifle did good service. + +The bear tumbled to the earth with sudden awkwardness. The bullet +had reached a vital part and the grizzly was destined to do no more +mischief. + +“Is he dead, or only feigning?” asked Joe prudently. + +“He’s a gone coon,” said Joshua. “Let us go up and look at him.” + +They went up and stood over the huge beast. He was not quite dead. +He opened his glazing eyes, made a convulsive movement with his +paws as if he would like to attack his foes, and then his head fell +back and he moved no more. + +“He’s gone, sure enough,” said Bickford. “Good-by, old grizzly. You +meant well, but circumstances interfered with your good intentions.” + +“Now let us look up Hogan,” said Joe. + +The man had sunk to the ground utterly exhausted, and in his +weakness and terror had fainted. + +Joe got some water and threw it in his face. + +He opened his eyes and drew a deep breath. A sudden recollection +blanched his face anew, and he cried: + +“Don’t let him get at me!” + +“You’re safe, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe. “The bear is dead.” + +“Dead! Is he really dead?” + +“If you don’t believe it, get up and look at him,” said Bickford. + +“I can’t get up--I’m so weak.” + +“Let me help you, then. There--do you see the critter?” + +Hogan shuddered as he caught sight of the huge beast only +twenty-five feet distant from him. + +“Was he as near as that?” he gasped. + +“He almost had you,” said Bickford. “If it hadn’t been for Joe and +me, he’d have been munchin’ you at this identical minute. Things +have changed a little, and in place of the bear eatin’ you you +shall help eat the bear.” + +By this time Hogan, realizing that he was safe, began to recover +his strength. As he did so he became angry with the beast that had +driven him such a hard race for life. He ran up to the grizzly and +kicked him. + +“Take that!” he exclaimed with an oath. “I wish you wasn’t dead, so +that I could stick my knife into you.” + +“If he wasn’t dead you’d keep your distance,” said Joshua dryly. +“It don’t require much courage to tackle him now.” + +Hogan felt this to be a reflection upon his courage. + +“I guess you’d have run, too, if he’d been after you,” he said. + +“I guess I should. Bears are all very well in their place, but I’d +rather not mingle with ’em socially. They’re very affectionate and +fond of hugging, but if I’m going to be hugged I wouldn’t choose a +bear.” + +“You seem to think I was a coward for runnin’ from the bear.” + +“No, I don’t. How do I know you was runnin’ from the bear? Maybe +you was only takin’ a little exercise to get up an appetite for +dinner.” + +“I am faint and weak,” said Hogan. “I haven’t had anything to eat +for twelve hours.” + +“You shall have some food,” said Joe. “Joshua, where are the +provisions? We may as well sit down and lunch.” + +“Jest as you say, Joe. I most generally have an appetite.” + +There was a mountain spring within a stone’s throw. Joshua took +a tin pail and brought some of the sparkling beverage, which he +offered first to Hogan. + +Hogan drank greedily. His throat was parched and dry, and he needed +it. + +He drew a deep breath of relief. + +“I feel better,” said he. “I was in search of a spring when that +cursed beast spied me and gave me chase.” + +They sat down under the shade of a large tree and lunched. + +“What sort of luck have you had since you tried to break into my +restaurant, Mr. Hogan?” asked Joe. + +Hogan changed color. The question was an awkward one. + +“Who told you I tried to enter your restaurant?” he asked. + +“The man you brought there.” + +“That wasn’t creditable of you, Hogan,” said Joshua, with his mouth +full. “After my friend Joe had given you a supper and promised you +breakfast, it was unkind to try to rob him. Don’t you think so +yourself?” + +“I couldn’t help it,” said Hogan, who had rapidly decided on his +defense. + +“Couldn’t help it?” said Joe in a tone of inquiry. “That’s rather a +strange statement.” + +“It’s true,” said Hogan. “The man forced me to do it.” + +“How was that?” + +“He saw me comin’ out of the restaurant a little while before, and +when he met me, after trying to rob me and finding that it didn’t +pay, he asked me if I was a friend of yours. I told him I was. Then +he began to ask if you slept there at night and if anybody was with +you. I didn’t want to answer, but he held a pistol at my head and +forced me to. Then he made me go with him. I offered to get in, +thinking I could whisper in your ear and warn you, but he wouldn’t +let me. He stationed me at the window and got in himself. You know +what followed. As soon as I saw you were too strong for him I ran +away, fearing that he might try to implicate me in the attempt at +robbery.” + +Hogan recited this story very glibly and in a very plausible manner. + +“Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “if I didn’t know you so thoroughly, I might +be disposed to put confidence in your statements. As it is, I +regret to say I don’t believe you.” + +“Hogan,” said Joshua, “I think you’re one of the fust romancers of +the age. If I ever start a story-paper I’ll engage you to write for +me.” + +“I am sorry you do me so much injustice, gentlemen,” said +Hogan, with an air of suffering innocence. “I’m the victim of +circumstances.” + +“I expect you’re a second George Washington. You never told a lie, +did you?” + +“Some time you will know me better,” said Hogan. + +“I hope not,” said Joe. “I know you better now than I want to.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE NEW DIGGINGS + + +When lunch-was over, Joe said: + +“Good day, Mr. Hogan. Look out for the grizzlies, and may you have +better luck in future.” + +“Yes, Hogan, good-by,” said Joshua. “We make over to you all our +interest in the bear. He meant to eat you. You can revenge yourself +by eatin’ him.” + +“Are you going to leave me, gentlemen?” asked Hogan in alarm. + +“You don’t expect us to stay and take care of you, do you?” + +“Let me go with you,” pleaded Hogan. “I am afraid to be left alone +in this country. I may meet another grizzly, and lose my life.” + +“That would be a great loss to the world,” said Mr. Bickford, with +unconcealed sarcasm. + +“It would be a great loss to me,” said Hogan. + +“Maybe that’s the best way to put it,” observed Bickford. “It would +have been money in my friend Joe’s pocket if you had never been +born.” + +“May I go with you?” pleaded Hogan, this time addressing himself to +Joe. + +“Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “you know very well why your company is not +acceptable to us.” + +“You shall have no occasion to complain,” said Hogan earnestly. + +“Do you want us to adopt you, Hogan?” asked Joshua. + +“Let me stay with you till we reach the nearest diggings. Then I +won’t trouble you any more.” + +Joe turned to Bickford. + +“If you don’t object,” he said, “I think I’ll let him come.” + +“Let the critter come,” said Bickford. “He’d be sure to choke any +grizzly that tackled him. For the sake of the bear, let him come.” + +Mr. Hogan was too glad to join the party, on any conditions, to +resent the tone which Mr. Bickford employed in addressing him. He +obtained his suit, and the party of three kept on their way. + +As they advanced the country became rougher and more hilly. Here +and there they saw evidences of “prospecting” by former visitors. +They came upon deserted claims and the sites of former camps. But +in these places the indications of gold had not been sufficiently +favorable to warrant continued work, and the miners had gone +elsewhere. + +At last, however, they came to a dozen men who were busily at +work in a gulch. Two rude huts near-by evidently served as their +temporary homes. + +“Well, boys, how do you find it?” inquired Bickford, riding up. + +“Pretty fair,” said one of the party. + +“Have you got room for three more?” + +“Yes--come along. You can select claims alongside and go to work if +you want to.” + +“What do you say, Joe?” + +“I am in favor of it.” + +“We are going to put up here, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford. “You can +do as you’ve a mind to. Much as we value your interestin’ society, +we hope you won’t put yourself out to stay on our account.” + +“I’ll stay,” said Hogan. + +Joe and Joshua surveyed the ground and staked out their claims, +writing out the usual notice and posting it on a neighboring tree. +They had not all the requisite tools, but these they were able to +purchase at one of the cabins. + +“What shall I do?” asked Hogan. “I’m dead broke. I can’t work +without tools, and I can’t buy any.” + +“Do you want to work for me?” asked Joshua. + +“What’ll you give?” + +“That’ll depend on how you work. If you work stiddy, I’ll give you +a quarter of what we both make. I’ll supply you with tools, but +they’ll belong to me.” + +“Suppose we don’t make anything,” suggested Hogan. + +“You shall have a quarter of that. You see, I want to make it for +your interest to succeed.” + +“Then I shall starve.” + +The bargain was modified so that Hogan was assured of enough to +eat, and was promised, besides, a small sum of money daily, but was +not to participate in the gains. + +“If we find a nugget, it won’t do you any good. Do you understand, +Hogan?” + +“Yes, I understand.” + +He shrugged his shoulders, having very little faith in any +prospective nuggets. + +“Then we understand each other. That’s all I want.” + +On the second day Joe and Mr. Bickford consolidated their claims +and became partners, agreeing to divide whatever they found. Hogan +was to work for them jointly. + +They did not find their hired man altogether satisfactory. He was +lazy and shiftless by nature, and work was irksome to him. + +“If you don’t work stiddy, Hogan,” said Joshua, “you can’t expect +to eat stiddy, and your appetite is pretty reg’lar, I notice.” + +Under this stimulus Hogan managed to work better than he had done +since he came out to California, or indeed for years preceding his +departure. Bickford and Joe had both been accustomed to farm work +and easily lapsed into their old habits. + +They found they had made a change for the better in leaving the +banks of the Yuba. The claims they were now working paid them +better. + +“Twenty-five dollars to-day,” said Joshua, a week after their +arrival. “That pays better than hoeing pertaters, Joe.” + +“You are right, Mr. Bickford. You are ten dollars ahead of me. I am +afraid you will lose on our partnership.” + +“I’ll risk it, Joe.” + +Hogan was the only member of the party who was not satisfied. + +“Can’t you take me into partnership?” he asked. + +“We can, but I don’t think we will, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford. + +“It wouldn’t pay. If you don’t like workin’ for us, you can take a +claim of your own.” + +“I have no tools.” + +“Why don’t you save your money and buy some, instead of gamblin’ it +away as you are doin’?” + +“A man must have amusement,” grumbled Hogan. “Besides, I may have +luck and win.” + +“Better keep clear of gamblin’, Hogan.” + +“Mr. Hogan, if you want to start a claim of your own, I’ll give you +what tools you need,” said Joe. + +Upon reflection Hogan decided to accept this offer. + +“But of course you will have to find your own vittles now,” said +Joshua. + +“I’ll do it,” said Hogan. + +The same day he ceased to work for the firm of Bickford & Mason, +for Joe insisted on giving Mr. Bickford the precedence as the +senior party, and started on his own account. + +The result was that he worked considerably less than before. Being +his own master, he decided not to overwork himself, and in fact +worked only enough to make his board. He was continually grumbling +over his bad luck, although Joshua told him plainly that it wasn’t +luck, but industry, he lacked. + +“If you’d work like we do,” said Bickford, “you wouldn’t need to +complain. Your claim is just as good as ours, as far as we can +tell.” + +“Then let us go in as partners,” said Hogan. + +“Not much. You ain’t the kind of partner I want.” + +“I was always unfortunate,” said Hogan. + +“You were always lazy, I reckon. You were born tired, weren’t you?” + +“My health ain’t good,” said Hogan. “I can’t work like you two.” + +“You’ve got a healthy appetite,” said Mr. Bickford. “There ain’t no +trouble there that I can see.” + +Mr. Hogan had an easier time than before, but he hadn’t money to +gamble with unless he deprived himself of his customary supply of +food, and this he was reluctant to do. + +“Lend me half-an-ounce of gold-dust, won’t you?” he asked of Joe +one evening. + +“What do you want it for--to gamble with?” + +“Yes,” said Hogan. “I dreamed last night that I broke the bank. All +I want is money enough to start me.” + +“I don’t approve of gambling, and can’t help you.” + +Hogan next tried Mr. Bickford, but with like result. + +“I ain’t quite such a fool, Hogan,” said the plain-spoken Joshua. + +About this time a stroke of good luck fell to Joe. About three +o’clock one afternoon he unearthed a nugget which, at a rough +estimate, might be worth five hundred dollars. + +Instantly all was excitement in the mining-camp, not alone for +what he had obtained, but for the promise of richer deposits. +Experienced miners decided that he had struck upon what is +popularly called a “pocket,” and some of these are immensely +remunerative. + +“Shake hands, Joe,” said Bickford. “You’re in luck.” + +“So are you, Mr. Bickford. We are partners, you know.” + +In less than an hour the two partners received an offer of eight +thousand dollars for their united claim, and the offer was accepted. + +Joe was the hero of the camp. All were rejoiced at his good fortune +except one. That one was Hogan, who from a little distance, jealous +and gloomy, surveyed the excited crowd. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +HOGAN’S DISCONTENT + + +“Why don’t luck come to me?” muttered Hogan to himself. “That green +country boy has made a fortune, while I, an experienced man of the +world, have to live from hand to mouth. It’s an outrage!” + +The parties to whom Joe and his partner sold their claim were +responsible men who had been fortunate in mining and had a +bank-account in San Francisco. + +“We’ll give you an order on our banker,” they proposed. + +“That will suit me better than money down,” said Joe. “I shall +start for San Francisco to-morrow, having other business there that +I need to look after.” + +“I’ll go too, Joe,” said Joshua. “With my share of the +purchase-money and the nugget, I’m worth, nigh on to five thousand +dollars. What will dad say?” + +“And what will Susan Smith say?” queried Joe. + +Joshua grinned. + +“I guess she’ll say she’s ready to change her name to Bickford,” +said he. + +“You must send me some of the cake, Mr. Bickford.” + +“Just wait, Joe. The thing ain’t got to that yet. I tell you, Joe, +I shall be somebody when I get home to Pumpkin Hollow with that +pile of money. The boys’ll begin to look up to me then. I can’t +hardly believe it’s all true. Maybe I’m dreamin’ it. Jest pinch my +arm, will you?” + +Joe complied with his request. + +“That’ll do, Joe. You’ve got some strength in your fingers. I guess +it’s true, after all.” + +Joe observed with some surprise that Hogan did not come near them. +The rest, without exception, had congratulated them on their +extraordinary good luck. + +“Seems to me Hogan looks rather down in the mouth,” said Joe to +Bickford. + +“He’s mad ’cause he didn’t find the nugget. That’s what’s the +matter with him. I say, Hogan, you look as if your dinner didn’t +agree with you.” + +“My luck don’t agree with me.” + +“You don’t seem to look at things right. Wasn’t you lucky the other +day to get away from the bear?” + +“I was unlucky enough to fall in with him.” + +“Wasn’t you lucky in meetin’ my friend Joe in New York, and raisin’ +money enough out of him to pay your passage out to Californy?” + +“I should be better off in New York. I am dead broke.” + +“You’d be dead broke in New York. Such fellers as you always is +dead broke.” + +“Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Bickford?” demanded Hogan irritably. + +“Oh, don’t rare up, Hogan. It won’t do no good. You’d ought to have +more respect for me, considerin’ I was your boss once.” + +“I’d give something for that boy’s luck.” + +“Joe’s luck? Well, things have gone pretty well with him; but that +don’t explain all his success--he’s willin’ to work.” + +“So am I.” + +“Then go to work on your claim. There’s no knowin’ but there’s a +bigger nugget inside of it. If you stand round with your hands in +your pockets, you’ll never find it.” + +“It’s the poorest claim in the gulch,” said Hogan discontentedly. + +“It pays the poorest because you don’t work half the time.” + +Hogan apparently didn’t like Mr. Bickford’s plainness of speech. He +walked away moodily, with his hands in his pockets. He could not +help contrasting his penniless position with the enviable position +of the two friends, and the devil, who is always in wait for such +moments, thrust an evil suggestion into his mind. + +It was this: + +He asked himself why could he not steal the nugget which Joe had +found? + +“He can spare it, for he has sold the claim for a fortune,” Hogan +reasoned. “It isn’t fair that he should have everything and I +should have nothing. He ought to have made me his partner, anyway. +He would if he hadn’t been so selfish. I have just as much right to +a share in it as this infernal Yankee. I’d like to choke him.” + +This argument was a very weak one, but a man easily persuades +himself of what he wants to do. + +“I’ll try for it,” Hogan decided, “this very night.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE NUGGET IS STOLEN + + +At this time Joe and Joshua were occupying a tent which they had +purchased on favorable terms of a fellow miner. + +They retired in good season, for they wished to start early on +their journey on the following morning. + +“I don’t know as I can go to sleep,” said Joshua. “I can’t help +thinkin’ of how rich I am, and what dad and all the folks will say.” + +“Do you mean to go home at once, Mr. Bickford?” + +“Jest as soon as I can get ready. I’ll tell you what I am goin’ to +do, Joe. I’m goin’ to buy a tip-top suit when I get to Boston, and +a gold watch and chain, and a breast-pin about as big as a saucer. +When I sail into Pumpkin Holler in that rig folks’ll look at me, +you bet. There’s old Squire Pennyroyal, he’ll be disappointed for +one.” + +“Why will he be disappointed?” + +“Because he told dad I was a fool to come out here. He said I’d be +back in rags before a year was out. Now, the old man thinks a good +deal of his opinion, and he won’t like it to find how badly he’s +mistaken.” + +“Then he would prefer to see you come home in rags?” + +“You bet he would.” + +“How about Susan? Ain’t you afraid she has married the store clerk?” + +Joshua looked grave for a moment. + +“I won’t say but she has,” said he; “but if she has gone and +forgotten about me jest because my back is turned, she ain’t the +gal I take her for, and I won’t fret my gizzard about her.” + +“She will feel worse than you when she finds you have come back +with money.” + +“That’s so.” + +“And you will easily find some one else,” suggested Joe. + +“There’s Sophrony Thompson thinks a sight of me,” said Mr. +Bickford. “She’s awful jealous of Susan. If Susan goes back on me, +I’ll call round and see Sophrony.” + +Joe laughed. + +“I won’t feel anxious about you, Joshua,” he said, “since I find +you have two girls to choose between.” + +“Not much danger of breakin’ my heart. It’s pretty tough.” + +There was a brief silence. + +Then Joshua said: + +“What are your plans, Joe? Shall you remain in San Francisco?” + +“I’ve been thinking, Mr. Bickford, that I would like to go home +on a visit. If I find that I have left my business in good hands +in the city, I shall feel strongly tempted to go home on the same +steamer with you.” + +“That would be hunky,” said Bickford, really delighted. “We’d have +a jolly time.” + +“I think we would. But, Mr. Bickford, I have no girls to welcome me +home, as you have.” + +“You ain’t old enough yet, Joe. You’re a good-lookin’ feller, and +when the time comes I guess you can find somebody.” + +“I don’t begin to trouble myself about such things yet,” said Joe, +laughing. “I am only sixteen.” + +“You’ve been through considerable, Joe, for a boy of sixteen. I +wish you’d come up to Pumpkin Holler and make me a visit when +you’re to home.” + +“Perhaps I can arrange to be present at your wedding, Mr. +Bickford--that is, if Susan doesn’t make you wait too long.” + +While this conversation was going on the dark figure of a man was +prowling near the tent. + +“Why don’t the fools stop talking and go to sleep,” muttered Hogan. +“I don’t want to wait here all night.” His wish was gratified. + +The two friends ceased talking and lay quite still. Soon Joe’s +deep, regular breathing and Bickford’s snoring convinced the +listener that the time had come to carry out his plans. + +With stealthy step he approached the tent, and stooping over gently +removed the nugget from under Joshua’s head. There was a bag of +gold-dust which escaped his notice. The nugget was all he thought +of. + +With beating heart and hasty step the thief melted into the +darkness, and the two friends slept on unconscious of their loss. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HOGAN’S FATE + + +The sun was up an hour before Joe and Bickford awoke. When Joe +opened his eyes he saw that it was later than the hour he intended +to rise. He shook his companion. + +“Is it mornin’?” asked Bickford drowsily. + +“I should say it was. Everybody is up and eating breakfast. We must +prepare to set out on our journey.” + +“Then it is time--we are rich,” said Joshua, with sudden +remembrance. “Do you know, Joe, I hain’t got used to the thought +yet. I had actually forgotten it.” + +“The sight of the nugget will bring it to mind.” + +“That’s so.” + +Bickford felt for the nugget, without a suspicion that the search +would be in vain. + +Of course he did not find it. + +“Joe, you are trying to play a trick on me,” he said. “You’ve taken +the nugget.” + +“What!” exclaimed Joe, starting. “Is it missing?” + +“Yes, and you know all about it. Where have you put it, Joe?” + +“On my honor, Joshua, I haven’t touched it,” said Joe seriously. +“Where did you place it?” + +“Under my head--the last thing before I lay down.” + +“Are you positive of it?” + +“Certain, sure.” + +“Then,” said Joe, a little pale, “it must have been taken during +the night.” + +“Who would take it?” + +“Let us find Hogan,” said Joe, with instinctive suspicion. “Who has +seen Hogan?” + +Hogan’s claim was in sight, but he was not at work. Neither was he +taking breakfast. + +“I’ll bet the skunk has grabbed the nugget and cleared out,” +exclaimed Bickford, in a tone of conviction. + +“Did you hear or see anything of him during the night?” + +“No--I slept too sound.” + +“Is anything else taken?” asked Joe. “The bag of dust----” + +“Is safe. It’s only the nugget that’s gone.” + +The loss was quickly noised about the camp. Such an incident was +of common interest. Miners lived so much in common--their property +was necessarily left so unguarded--that theft was something more +than misdemeanor or light offense. Stern was the justice which +overtook the thief in those days. It was necessary, perhaps, for it +was a primitive state of society, and the code which in established +communities was a safeguard did not extend its protection here. + +Suspicion fell upon Hogan at once. No one of the miners remembered +to have seen him since rising. + +“Did any one see him last night?” asked Joe. + +Kellogg answered. + +“I saw him near your tent,” he said. “I did not think anything +of it. Perhaps if I had been less sleepy I should have been more +likely to suspect that his design was not a good one.” + +“About what hour was this?” + +“It must have been between ten and eleven o’clock.” + +“We did not go to sleep at once. Mr. Bickford and I were talking +over our plans.” + +“I wish I’d been awake when the skunk come round,” said Bickford. +“I’d have grabbed him so he’d thought an old grizzly’d got hold of +him.” + +“Did you notice anything in his manner that led you to think he +intended robbery?” asked Kellogg. + +“He was complainin’ of his luck. He thought Joe and I got more than +our share, and I’m willin’ to allow we have; but if we’d been as +lazy and shif’less as Hogan we wouldn’t have got down to the nugget +at all.” + +An informal council was held, and it was decided to pursue Hogan. +As it was uncertain in which direction he had fled, it was resolved +to send out four parties of two men each to hunt him. Joe and +Kellogg went together, Joshua and another miner departed in a +different direction, and two other pairs started out. + +“I guess we’ll fix him,” said Mr. Bickford. “If he can dodge us +all, he’s smarter than I think he is.” + +Meanwhile Hogan, with the precious nugget in his possession, +hurried forward with feverish haste. The night was dark and the +country was broken. From time to time he stumbled over some +obstacle, the root of a tree or something similar, and this made +his journey more arduous. + +“I wish it was light,” he muttered. + +Then he revoked his wish. In the darkness and obscurity lay his +hopes of escape. + +“I’d give half this nugget if I was safe in San Francisco,” he said +to himself. + +He stumbled on, occasionally forced by his fatigue to sit down and +rest. + +“I hope I’m going in the right direction, but I don’t know,” he +said to himself. + +He had been traveling with occasional rests for four hours when +fatigue overcame him. He lay down to take a slight nap, but when he +awoke the sun was up. + +“Good Heaven!” he exclaimed in alarm. “I must have slept for some +hours. I will eat something to give me strength, and then I must +hurry on.” + +He had taken the precaution to take some provisions with him, and +he began to eat them as he hurried along. + +“They have just discovered their loss,” thought Hogan. “Will they +follow me, I wonder? I must be a good twelve miles away, and this +is a fair start. They will turn back before they have come as far +as this. Besides, they won’t know in what direction I have come.” + +Hogan was mistaken in supposing himself to be twelve miles away. +In reality, he was not eight. During the night he had traveled at +disadvantage, and taken a round-about way without being aware of +it. He was mistaken also in supposing that the pursuit would be +easily abandoned. Mining communities could not afford to condone +theft, nor were they disposed to facilitate the escape of the +thief. More than once the murderer had escaped, while the thief was +pursued relentlessly. All this made Hogan’s position a perilous +one. If he had been long enough in the country to understand the +feeling of the people, he would not have ventured to steal the +nugget. + +About eleven o’clock Hogan sat down to rest. He reclined on the +greensward near the edge of a precipitous descent. He did not dream +that danger was so close till he heard his name called and two men +came running toward him. Hogan, starting to his feet in dismay, +recognized Crane and Peabody, two of his late comrades. + +“What do you want?” he faltered, as they came within hearing. + +“The nugget,” said Crane sternly. + +Hogan would have denied its possession if he could, but there it +was at his side. + +“There it is,” he said. + +“What induced you to steal it?” demanded Crane. + +“I was dead broke. Luck was against me. I couldn’t help it.” + +“It was a bad day’s work for you,” said Peabody. “Didn’t you know +the penalty attached to theft in the mining-camps?” + +“No,” faltered Hogan, alarmed at the stern looks of his captors. +“What is it?” + +“Death by hanging,” was the terrible reply. + +Hogan’s face blanched, and he sank on his knees before them. + +“Don’t let me be hung!” he entreated. “You’ve got the nugget back. +I’ve done no harm. No one has lost anything by me.” + +“Eight of us have lost our time in pursuing you. You gave up the +nugget because you were forced to. You intended to carry it away.” + +“Mercy! mercy! I’m a very unlucky man. I’ll go away and never +trouble you again.” + +“We don’t mean that you shall,” said Crane sternly. “Peabody, tie +his hands; we must take him back with us.” + +“I won’t go,” said Hogan, lying down. “I am not going back to be +hung.” + +It would obviously be impossible to carry a struggling man back +fifteen miles, or more. + +“We must hang you on the spot then,” said Crane, producing a cord. +“Say your prayers; your fate is sealed.” + +“But this is murder!” faltered Hogan, with pallid lips. + +“We take the responsibility.” + +He advanced toward Hogan, who now felt the full horrors of his +situation. He sprang to his feet, rushed in frantic fear to the +edge of the precipice, threw up his arms, and plunged headlong. It +was done so quickly that neither of his captors was able to prevent +him. + +They hurried to the precipice and looked over. A hundred feet +below, on a rough rock, they saw a shapeless and motionless figure, +crushed out of human semblance. + +“Perhaps it is as well,” said Crane gravely. “He has saved us an +unwelcome task.” + +The nugget was restored to its owners, to whom Hogan’s tragical +fate was told. + +“Poor fellow!” said Joe soberly. “I would rather have lost the +nugget.” + +“So would I,” said Bickford. “He was a poor, shif’less critter; but +I’m sorry for him.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +HOW JOE’S BUSINESS PROSPERED + + +Joe and his friend Bickford arrived in San Francisco eight days +later without having met with any other misadventure or drawback. +He had been absent less than three months, yet he found changes. A +considerable number of buildings had gone up in different parts of +the town during his absence. + +“It is a wonderful place,” said Joe to his companion. + +“It is going to be a great city some day.” + +“It’s ahead of Pumpkin Holler already,” said Mr. Bickford, “though +the Holler has been goin’ for over a hundred years.” + +Joe smiled at the comparison. He thought he could foresee the rapid +progress of the new city, but he was far from comprehending the +magnificent future that lay before it. A short time since, the +writer of this story ascended to the roof of the Palace Hotel, +and from this lofty elevation, a hundred and forty feet above the +sidewalk, scanned with delighted eyes a handsome and substantial +city, apparently the growth of a century, and including within its +broad limits a population of three hundred thousand souls. It will +not be many years before it reaches half-a-million, and may fairly +be ranked among the great cities of the world. + +Of course Joe’s first visit was to his old place of business. He +received a hearty greeting from Watson, his deputy. + +“I am glad to see you, Joe,” said he, grasping our hero’s hand +cordially. “When did you arrive?” + +“Ten minutes ago. I have made you the first call.” + +“Perhaps you thought I might have ‘vamosed the ranch,’” said +Watson, smiling, “and left you and the business in the lurch.” + +“I had no fears on that score,” said Joe. “Has business been good?” + +“Excellent. I have paid weekly your share of the profits to Mr. +Morgan.” + +“Am I a millionaire yet?” asked Joe. + +“Not quite. I have paid Mr. Morgan on your account”--here Watson +consulted a small account-book--“nine hundred and twenty-five +dollars.” + +“Is it possible?” said Joe, gratified. “That is splendid.” + +“Then you are satisfied?” + +“More than satisfied.” + +“I am glad of it. I have made the same for myself and so have +nearly half made up the sum which I so foolishly squandered at the +gaming-table.” + +“I am glad for you, Mr. Watson.” + +“How have you prospered at the mines?” + +“I have had excellent luck.” + +“I don’t believe you bring home as much money as I have made for +you here.” + +“Don’t bet on that, Mr. Watson, for you would lose.” + +“You don’t mean to say that you have made a thousand dollars?” +exclaimed Watson, surprised. + +“I have made five thousand dollars within a hundred or two.” + +“Is it possible?” ejaculated Watson. “You beat everything for luck, +Joe.” + +“So he does,” said Bickford, who felt that it was time for him to +speak. “It’s lucky for me that I fell in with him. It brought me +luck, too, for we went into partnership together.” + +“Have you brought home five thousand dollars, too?” asked Watson. + +“I’ve got about the same as Joe, and now I’m going home to marry +Susan Smith if she’ll have me.” + +“She’ll marry a rich miner, Mr. Bickford. You needn’t be concerned +about that.” + +“I feel pretty easy in mind,” said Joshua. + +“How soon do you sail?” + +“When does the next steamer go?” + +“In six days.” + +“I guess it’ll carry me.” + +Watson turned to Joe. + +“I suppose you will now take charge of your own business?” said he. +“I am ready to hand over my trust at any minute.” + +“Would you object to retaining charge for--say for four months to +come?” asked Joe. + +“Object? I should be delighted to do it. I couldn’t expect to make +as much money any other way.” + +“You see, Mr. Watson, I am thinking of going home myself on a +visit. I feel that I can afford it, and I should like to see my old +friends and acquaintances under my new and improved circumstances.” + +Watson was evidently elated at the prospect of continued employment +of so remunerative a character. + +“You may depend upon it that your interests are safe in my hands,” +said he. “I will carry on the business as if it were my own. +Indeed, it will be for my interest to do so.” + +“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Watson. I have perfect confidence In your +management.” + +Joe’s next call was on his friend Morgan, by whom also he was +cordially welcomed. + +“Have you called on Watson?” he asked. + +“Yes.” + +“Then he has probably given you an idea of how your business has +gone on during your absence. He is a thoroughly reliable man, in my +opinion. You were fortunate to secure his services.” + +“So I think.” + +“Have you done well at the mines?” asked Mr. Morgan doubtfully. + +“You hope so, but you don’t feel confident?” said Joe, smiling. + +“You can read my thoughts exactly. I don’t consider mining as +reliable as a regular business.” + +“Nor I, in general, but there is one thing you don’t take into +account.” + +“What is that?” + +Mr. Bickford answered the question. + +“Joe’s luck.” + +“Then you have been lucky?” + +“How much do you think I have brought home?” + +“A thousand dollars?” + +“Five times that sum.” + +“Are you in earnest?” asked Mr. Morgan, incredulous. + +“Wholly so.” + +“Then let me congratulate you--on that and something else.” + +“What is that?” + +“The lots you purchased, including the one on which your restaurant +is situated, have more than doubled in value.” + +“Bully for you, Joe!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford enthusiastically. + +“It never rains but it pours,” said Joe, quoting an old proverb. “I +begin to think I shall be rich some time, Mr. Morgan.” + +“It seems very much like it.” + +“What would you advise me to do, Mr. Morgan--sell out the lots at +the present advance?” + +“Hold on to them, Joe. Not only do that, but buy more. This is +destined some day to be a great city. It has a favorable location, +is the great mining center, and the State, I feel convinced, has +an immense territory fit for agricultural purposes. Lots here may +fluctuate, but they will go up a good deal higher than present +figures.” + +“If you think so, Mr. Morgan, I will leave in your hands three +thousand dollars for investment in other lots. This will leave me, +including my profits from the business during my absence, nearly +three thousand dollars more, which I shall take East and invest +there.” + +“I will follow your instructions, Joe, and predict that your real +estate investments will make you rich sooner than you think.” + +“Joe,” said Bickford, “I’ve a great mind to leave half of my money +with Mr. Morgan to be invested in the same way.” + +“Do it, Mr. Bickford. That will leave you enough to use at home.” + +“Yes--I can buy a farm for two thousand dollars and stock it for +five hundred more. Besides, I needn’t pay more than half down, if I +don’t want to.” + +“A good plan,” said Joe. + +“Mr. Morgan, will you take my money and invest it for me just like +Joe’s? Of course I want you to take a commission for doing it.” + +“With pleasure, Mr. Bickford, more especially as I have decided to +open a real estate office in addition to my regular business. You +and Joe will be my first customers. I shouldn’t wonder if the two +or three thousand dollars you leave with me should amount in ten +years to ten thousand.” + +“Ten thousand!” ejaculated Joshua, elated. “Won’t I swell round +Pumpkin Holler when I’m worth ten thousand dollars!” + +Six days later, among the passengers by the steamer for Panama, +were Joseph Mason and Joshua Bickford. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +JOE’S WELCOME HOME + + +On arriving in New York both Joe and Mr. Bickford bought new suits +of clothes. Mr. Bickford purchased a blue dress suit, resplendent +with brass buttons, and a gold watch and chain, which made a good +deal of show for the money. His tastes were still barbaric, and a +quiet suit of black would not have come up to his idea of what was +befitting a successful California miner. + +He surveyed himself before the tailor’s glass with abundant +satisfaction. + +“I guess that’ll strike ’em at home, eh, Joe?” he said. + +“You look splendid, Mr. Bickford.” + +“Kinder scrumptious, don’t I?” + +“Decidedly so.” + +“I say, Joe, you’d better have a suit made just like this.” + +Joe shuddered at the thought. In refinement of taste he was +decidedly ahead of his friend and partner. + +“I’m going to buy a second-hand suit,” he said. + +“What!” ejaculated Joshua. + +Joe smiled. + +“I knew you’d be surprised, but I’ll explain. I want people to +think at first that I have been unlucky.” + +“Oh, I see,” said Joshua, nodding; “kinder take ’em in.” + +“Just so, Mr. Bickford.” + +“Well, there is something in that.” + +“Then I shall find out who my true friends are.” + +“Just so.” + + * * * * * + +It is not my purpose to describe Mr. Bickford’s arrival in Pumpkin +Hollow, resplendent in his new suit. Joshua wouldn’t have changed +places with the President of the United States on that day. His +old friends gathered about him, and listened open-mouthed to +his stories of mining life in California and his own wonderful +exploits, which lost nothing in the telling. He found his faithful +Susan unmarried, and lost no time in renewing his suit. He came, he +saw, he conquered! + +In four weeks Susan became Mrs. Bickford, her husband became +the owner of the farm he coveted, and he at once took his place +among the prominent men of Pumpkin Hollow. In a few years he +was appointed justice of the peace, and became known as Squire +Bickford. It may be as well to state here, before taking leave +of him, that his real estate investments in San Francisco proved +fortunate, and in ten years he found himself worth ten thousand +dollars. This to Joshua was a fortune, and he is looked upon as a +solid man in the town where he resides. + +We now turn to Joe. + +Since his departure nothing definite had been heard of him. Another +boy had taken his place on Major Norton’s farm, but he was less +reliable than Joe. + +“I am out of patience with that boy. I wish I had Joe back again.” + +“Have you heard anything of Joe since he went away?” inquired Oscar. + +“Not a word.” + +“I don’t believe he went to California at all.” + +“In that case we should have heard from him.” + +“No, Joe’s proud--poor and proud!” said Oscar. “I guess he’s wished +himself back many a time, but he’s too proud to own it.” + +“Joe was good to work,” said the major. + +“He was too conceited. He didn’t know his place. He thought himself +as good as me,” said Oscar arrogantly. + +“Most people seemed to like Joe,” said the major candidly. + +“I didn’t,” said Oscar, tossing his head. “If he’d kept in his +place and realized that he was a hired boy, I could have got along +well enough with him.” + +“I wish he would come back,” said the major. “I would take him +back.” + +“I dare say he’s had a hard time and would be humbler now,” said +Oscar. + +At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and just afterward +Joe entered. + +He wore a mixed suit considerably the worse for wear and patched in +two or three places. There was a rip under the arm, and his hat, a +soft felt one, had become shapeless from long and apparently hard +usage. He stood in the doorway, waiting for recognition. + +“How do you do, Joe?” said Major Norton cordially. “I am glad to +see you.” + +Joe’s face lighted up. + +“Thank you, sir,” he said. + +“Shake hands, Joe.” + +Major Norton was mean in money matters, but he had something of the +gentleman about him. + +Oscar held aloof. + +“How do you do, Oscar?” + +“I’m well,” said Oscar. “Have you been to California?” + +“Yes.” + +“You don’t seem to have made your fortune,” said Oscar +superciliously, eying Joe’s shabby clothing. + +“I haven’t starved,” said Joe. + +“Where did you get that suit of clothes?” asked Oscar. + +“I hope you’ll excuse my appearance,” said Joe. + +“Well, Joe, do you want to come back to your old place?” asked +Major Norton. “I’ve got a boy, but he doesn’t suit me.” + +“How much would you be willing to pay me, Major Norton?” + +The major coughed. + +“Well,” said he, “I gave you your board and clothes before. That’s +pretty good pay for a boy.” + +“I’m older now.” + +“I’ll do the same by you, Joe, and give you fifty cents a week +besides.” + +“Thank you for the offer, Major Norton. I’ll take till to-morrow to +think of it.” + +“You’d better accept it now,” said Oscar. “Beggars shouldn’t be +choosers.” + +“I am not a beggar, Oscar,” said Joe mildly. + +“You look like one, anyway,” said Oscar bluntly. + +“Oscar,” said Major Norton, “if Joe has been unlucky, you shouldn’t +throw it in his teeth.” + +“He went off expecting to make his fortune,” said Oscar, in an +exulting tone. “He looks as if he had made it. Where are you going?” + +“I am going to look about the village a little. I will call again.” + +After Joe went out Oscar said: + +“It does me good to see Joe come in rags. Serves him right for +putting on airs.” + +On the main street Joe met Annie Raymond. + +“Why, Joe!” she exclaimed, delighted. “Is it really you?” + +“Bad pennies always come back,” said Joe. + +“Have you---- I am afraid you have not been fortunate,” said the +young lady, hesitating as she noticed Joe’s shabby clothes. + +“Do you think less of me for that?” + +“No,” said Annie Raymond warmly. “It is you I like, not your +clothes. You may have been unfortunate, but I am sure you deserved +success.” + +“You are a true friend, Miss Annie, so I don’t mind telling you +that I was successful.” + +Annie Raymond looked astonished. + +“And these clothes--” she began. + +“I put on for Oscar Norton’s benefit. I wanted to see how he would +receive me. He evidently rejoiced at my bad fortune.” + +“Oscar is a mean boy. Joe, you must come to our house to supper.” + +“Thank you, I will; but I will go round to the hotel and change my +clothes.” + +“Never mind.” + +“But I do mind. I don’t fancy a shabby suit as long as I can afford +to wear a good one.” + +Joe went to the hotel, took off his ragged clothes, put on a new +and stylish suit which he recently had made for him, donned a gold +watch and chain, and hat in the latest style, and thus dressed, his +natural good looks were becomingly set off. + +“How do I look now?” he asked, when he met Miss Annie Raymond at +her own door. + +“Splendidly, Joe. I thought you were a young swell from the city.” + +After supper Annie said, her eyes sparkling with mischief: + +“Suppose we walk over to Major Norton’s and see Oscar.” + +“Just what I wanted to propose.” + +Oscar was out in the front yard, when he caught sight of Joe and +Annie Raymond approaching. He did not at first recognize Joe, but +thought, like the young lady, that it was some swell from the city. + +“You see I’ve come again, Oscar,” said Joe, smiling. + +Oscar could not utter a word. He was speechless with astonishment. + +“I thought you were poor,” he uttered, at last. + +“I have had better luck than you thought.” + +“I suppose you spent all your money for those clothes.” + +“You are mistaken, Oscar. I am not so foolish. I left between two +and three thousand dollars in a New York bank, and I have more than +twice that in San Francisco.” + +“It isn’t possible!” exclaimed Oscar, surprised and disappointed. + +“Here is my bank-book; you can look at it,” and Joe pointed to a +deposit of twenty-five hundred dollars. “I don’t think, Oscar, it +will pay me to accept your father’s offer and take my old place.” + +“I don’t understand it. How did you do it?” asked the bewildered +Oscar. + +“I suppose it was my luck,” said Joe. + +“Not wholly that,” said Annie Raymond. “It was luck and labor.” + +“I accept the amendment, Miss Annie.” + +Oscar’s manner changed at once. Joe, the successful Californian, +was very different from Joe, the hired boy. He became very +attentive to our hero, and before he left town condescended to +borrow twenty dollars of him, which he never remembered to repay. +He wanted to go back to California with Joe, but his father would +not consent. + +When Joe returned to San Francisco, by advice of Mr. Morgan he sold +out his restaurant to Watson and took charge of Mr. Morgan’s real +estate business. He rose with the rising city, became a very rich +man, and now lives in a handsome residence on one of the hills that +overlook the bay. He has an excellent wife--our old friend, Annie +Raymond--and a fine family of children. His domestic happiness is +by no means the smallest part of Joe’s luck. + + +THE END + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOE'S LUCK OR ALWAYS WIDE AWAKE *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States + and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where + you are located before using this eBook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that: + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without +widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/12823-0.zip b/old/12823-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2c8177 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12823-0.zip diff --git a/old/12823-h.zip b/old/12823-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0536323 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12823-h.zip diff --git a/old/12823-h/12823-h.htm b/old/12823-h/12823-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d2543e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12823-h/12823-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8217 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8" /> + <title> + Joe’s luck or always wide awake, by Horatio Alger, Jr.—A Project Gutenberg eBook + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> + <style> /* <![CDATA[ */ + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h1 { + font-weight: normal; + font-size: 240%; +} + +h2 { + margin-top: 4em; + font-weight: normal; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +.p1 {margin-top: 1em;} +.p3 {margin-top: 3em;} +.p1bot {margin-bottom: 1em;} + +.fs120 {font-size: 120%;} +.fs150 {font-size: 150%;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 30%; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +x-ebookmaker hr.chap {width: 0%; display: none;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.lht {line-height: 1.5em;} + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em;} +ul {list-style-type: none;} + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.illowp30 {width: 30%;} + +x-ebookmaker-drop, .x-ebookmaker-drop {} + + /* ]]> */ </style> + + </head> +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Joe’s luck or always wide awake, by Horatio Alger, Jr.</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Joe’s luck or always wide awake</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Horatio Alger, Jr.</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 1, 1999 [eBook #12823]<br /> +[Most recently updated: December 15, 2020]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Al Haines</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK Joe’s luck or always wide awake ***</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="figcenter illowp30" id="cover" style="max-width: 30em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover created by the transcriber" /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h1>JOE’S LUCK<br /> +OR<br /> +ALWAYS WIDE AWAKE</h1> + + +<p class="center p3 fs150">BY<br /> +HORATIO ALGER, JR.</p> + + +<p class="center p3 fs150">AUTHOR OF<br /> +<span class="lht">“TONY THE TRAMP,” “SLOW AND SURE,” “THE CASH BOY,”</span><br /> +“MAKING HIS WAY,” “JACK’S WARD,” “DO AND DARE,”<br /> +“FACING THE WORLD,” “STRONG AND STEADY,”<br /> +“STRIVE AND SUCCEED,” ETC.</p> + + +<p class="center p3">NEW YORK<br /> +THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY<br /> +1913</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p class="center p1 fs150">JOE’S LUCK</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br /> +INTRODUCES JOE</h2> + +<p>“Come here, you Joe, and be quick about it!”</p> + +<p>The boy addressed, a stout boy of fifteen, with an honest, +sun-browned face, looked calmly at the speaker.</p> + +<p>“What’s wanted?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Brush me off, and don’t be all day about it!” said Oscar Norton +impatiently.</p> + +<p>Joe’s blue eyes flashed indignantly at the tone of the other.</p> + +<p>“You can brush yourself off,” he answered independently.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by your impudence?” demanded Oscar angrily. “Have +you turned lazy all at once?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joe firmly, “but I don’t choose to be ordered round by +you.”</p> + +<p>“What’s up, I wonder? Ain’t you our servant?”</p> + +<p>“I am not your servant, though your father is my employer.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are bound to obey me—his son.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see it.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’d better, if you know what’s best for yourself. Are you +going to brush me off?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Look out! I can get my father to turn you off.”</p> + +<p>“You may try if you want to.”</p> + +<p>Oscar, much incensed, went to his father to report Joe’s +insubordination. While he is absent, a few words of explanation will +enlighten the reader as to Joe’s history and present position.</p> + +<p>Joe Mason was alone in the world. A year previous he had lost his +father, his only remaining parent, and when the father’s affairs were +settled and funeral expenses paid there was found to be just five +dollars left, which was expended for clothing for Joe.</p> + +<p>In this emergency Major Norton, a farmer and capitalist, offered to +provide Joe with board and clothes and three months’ schooling in the +year in return for his services. As nothing else offered, Joe +accepted, but would not bind himself for any length of time. He was +free to go whenever he pleased.</p> + +<p>Now there were two disagreeable things in Joe’s new place. The first +was the parsimony of Major Norton, who was noted for his stingy +disposition, and the second was the overbearing manners of Oscar, who +lost no opportunity to humiliate Joe and tyrannize over him so far as +Joe’s independent spirit would allow. It happened, therefore, that +Joe was compelled to work hard, while the promised clothing was of +the cheapest and shabbiest description. He was compelled to go to +school in patched shoes and a ragged suit, which hurt his pride as he +compared himself with Oscar, who was carefully and even handsomely +dressed. Parsimonious as his father was, he was anxious that his +only boy should appear to advantage.</p> + +<p>On the very day on which our story begins Oscar had insulted Joe in a +way which excited our hero’s bitter indignation.</p> + +<p>This is the way it happened:</p> + +<p>Joe, who was a general favorite on account of his good looks and +gentlemanly manners, and in spite of his shabby attire, was walking +home with Annie Raymond, the daughter of the village physician, when +Oscar came up.</p> + +<p>He was himself secretly an admirer of the young lady, but had never +received the least encouragement from her. It made him angry to see +his father’s drudge walking on equal terms with his own favorite, and +his coarse nature prompted him to insult his enemy.</p> + +<p>“Miss Raymond,” he said, lifting his hat mockingly, “I congratulate +you on the beau you have picked up.”</p> + +<p>Annie Raymond fully appreciated his meanness, and answered calmly:</p> + +<p>“I accept your congratulations, Mr. Norton.”</p> + +<p>This answer made Oscar angry and led him to go further than he +otherwise would.</p> + +<p>“You must be hard up for an escort, when you accept such a ragamuffin +as Joe Mason.”</p> + +<p>Joe flushed with anger.</p> + +<p>“Oscar Norton, do you mean to insult Miss Raymond or me,” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“So you are on your high horse!” said Oscar sneeringly.</p> + +<p>“Will you answer my question?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will. I certainly don’t mean to insult Miss Raymond, but I +wonder at her taste in choosing my father’s hired boy to walk with.”</p> + +<p>“I am not responsible to you for my choice, Oscar Norton,” said Annie +Raymond, with dignity. “If my escort is poorly dressed, it is not +his fault, nor do I think the less of him for it.”</p> + +<p>“If your father would dress me better, I should be very glad of it,” +said Joe. “If I am a ragamuffin, it is his fault.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll report that to him,” said Oscar maliciously.</p> + +<p>“I wish you would. It would save me the trouble of asking him for +better clothes.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose we go on,” said Annie Raymond.</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said Joe politely.</p> + +<p>And they walked on, leaving Oscar discomfited and mortified.</p> + +<p>“What a fool Annie Raymond makes of herself” he muttered. “I should +think she’d be ashamed to go round with Joe Mason.”</p> + +<p>Oscar would have liked to despise Annie Raymond, but it was out of +his power. She was undoubtedly the belle of the school, and he would +have been proud to receive as much notice from her as she freely +accorded to Joe. But the young lady had a mind and a will of her +own, and she had seen too much to dislike in Oscar to regard him with +favor, even if he were the son of a rich man, while she had the good +sense and discrimination to see that Joe, despite his ragged garb, +possessed sterling good qualities.</p> + +<p>When Oscar got home he sought his father.</p> + +<p>“Father,” said he, “I heard Joe complaining to Annie Raymond that you +didn’t dress him decently.”</p> + +<p>Major Norton looked annoyed.</p> + +<p>“What does the boy mean?” he said. “What does he expect?”</p> + +<p>“He should be dressed as well as I am,” said Oscar maliciously.</p> + +<p>“Quite out of the question,” said the major hastily. “Your clothes +cost a mint of money.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, you want me to look well, father. I am your son, and he +is only your hired boy.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want folks to talk,” said the major, who was sensitive to +public opinion. “Don’t you think his clothes are good enough?”</p> + +<p>“Of course they are; but I’ll tell you what, father,” said Oscar, +with a sudden idea, “you know that suit of mine that I got stained +with acid?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Oscar,” said the major gravely. “I ought to remember it. It +cost me thirty-four dollars, and you spoiled it by your carelessness.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose you give that to Joe?” suggested Oscar.</p> + +<p>“He’s a good deal larger than you. It wouldn’t fit him; and, +besides, it’s stained.”</p> + +<p>“What right has a hired boy to object to a stain? No matter if it is +too small, he has no right to be particular.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, Oscar,” said the major, who was glad to be saved the +expense of a new suit for Joe. Even he had been unpleasantly +conscious that Joe’s appearance had become discreditable to him. +“You may bring it down, Oscar,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I dare say Joe won’t like the idea of wearing it, but a boy in his +position has no right to be proud.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not,” returned the major, his ruling passion gratified by +the prospect of saving the price of a suit. “When Joseph comes +home—at any rate, after he is through with his chores—you may tell +him to come in to me.”</p> + +<p>“All right, sir.”</p> + +<p>Before Oscar remembered this message, the scene narrated at the +commencement of the chapter occurred. On his way to complain to his +father, he recollected the message, and, retracing his steps, said to +Joe:</p> + +<p>“My father wants to see you right off.”</p> + +<p>This was a summons which Joe felt it his duty to obey. He +accordingly bent his steps to the room where Major Norton usually sat.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br /> +THE STAINED SUIT</h2> + +<p>“Oscar tells me that you wish to see me, sir,” said Joe, as he +entered the presence of his pompous employer.</p> + +<p>Major Norton wheeled round in his armchair and looked at Joe over his +spectacles. He looked at Joe’s clothes, too, and it did strike him +forcibly that they were very shabby. However, there was Oscar’s +stained suit; which was entirely whole and of excellent cloth. As to +the stains, what right had a boy like Joe to be particular?</p> + +<p>“Ahem!” said the major, clearing his throat. “Oscar tells me that +you are not satisfied with the clothes I have I given you.”</p> + +<p>“He has told you the truth, Major Norton,” replied Joe bluntly. “If +you will look for yourself, I think you will see why I am +dissatisfied.”</p> + +<p>“Joseph,” said the major, in a tone of disapproval, “you are too free +spoken. I understand you have been complaining to Doctor Raymond’s +daughter of the way I dress you.”</p> + +<p>“Did Oscar tell you the way that happened?” inquired Joe.</p> + +<p>“I apprehend he did not.”</p> + +<p>“When I was walking home with Miss Annie Raymond, Oscar came up and +insulted me, calling me a ragamuffin. I told him that, if I was a +ragamuffin, it was not my fault.”</p> + +<p>Major Norton looked disturbed.</p> + +<p>“Oscar was inconsiderate,” he said. “It seems to me that your +clothes are suitable to your station in life. It is not well for a +boy in your circumstances to be ‘clothed in purple and fine linen,’ +as the Scriptures express it. However, perhaps it is time for you to +have another suit.”</p> + +<p>Joe listened in astonishment. Was it possible that Major Norton was +going to open his heart and give him what he had long secretly +desired?</p> + +<p>Our hero’s delusion was soon dissipated.</p> + +<p>Major Norton rose from his seat, and took from a chair near-by a +stained suit, which had not yet attracted Joe’s attention.</p> + +<p>“Here is a suit of Oscar’s,” he said, “which is quite whole and +almost new. Oscar only wore it a month. It cost me thirty-four +dollars!” said the major impressively.</p> + +<p>He held it up, and Joe recognized it at once.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it the suit Oscar got stained?” he asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Ahem! Yes; it is a little stained, but that doesn’t injure the +texture of the cloth.”</p> + +<p>As he held it up the entire suit seemed to have been sprinkled with +acid, which had changed the color in large, patches in different +parts. The wearer would be pretty sure to excite an unpleasant +degree of attention.</p> + +<p>Joe did not appear to be overwhelmed with the magnificence of the +gift.</p> + +<p>“If it is so good, why don’t Oscar wear it?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Major Norton regarded Joe with displeasure.</p> + +<p>“It cannot matter to you how Oscar chooses to dress,” he said. “I +apprehend that you and he are not on a level.”</p> + +<p>“He is your son, and I am your hired boy,” said Joe. “I admit that. +But I don’t see how you can ask me to wear a suit like that.”</p> + +<p>“I apprehend that you are unsuitably proud, Joseph.”</p> + +<p>“I hope not, sir; but I don’t want to attract everybody’s notice as I +walk the streets. If I had stained the suit myself, I should have +felt bound to wear it, but it was Oscar’s carelessness that destroyed +its appearance, and I don’t think I ought to suffer for that. +Besides, it is much too small for me. Let me show you.”</p> + +<p>Joe pulled off his coat and put on the stained one. The sleeves were +from two to three inches too short, and it was so far from meeting in +front, on account of his being much broader than Oscar, that his +shoulders seemed drawn back to meet each other behind.</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t exactly fit,” said the major; “but it can be let out +easily. I will send it to Miss Pearce—the village tailoress—to fix +it over for you.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Major Norton,” said Joe, in a decided tone, “but I hope +you won’t go to that expense, for I shall not be willing to wear it +under any circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot believe my ears,” said Major Norton, with dignified +displeasure. “How old are you, Joseph?”</p> + +<p>“Fifteen, sir.”</p> + +<p>“It is not fitting that you, a boy of fifteen, should dictate to your +employer.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t wish to, Major Norton, but I am not willing to wear that +suit.”</p> + +<p>“You are too proud. Your pride needs taking down.”</p> + +<p>“Major Norton,” said Joe firmly, “I should like to tell you how I +feel. You are my employer, and I am your hired boy. I try to do my +duty by you.”</p> + +<p>“You are a good boy to work, Joseph. I don’t complain of that.”</p> + +<p>“You agreed to give me board and clothing for my services.”</p> + +<p>“So I have.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but you have dressed me in such a way that I attract +attention in the street for my shabbiness. I don’t think I am very +proud, but I have been mortified! more than once when I saw people +looking at my patched clothes and shoes out at the toes. I think if +I work faithfully I ought to be dressed decently.”</p> + +<p>“Joseph,” said Major Norton uneasily, “you look at the thing too +one-sided. You don’t expect me to dress you like Oscar?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I don’t. If you would spend half as much for my clothes as +you do for Oscar’s I would be contented.”</p> + +<p>“It seems to me you are very inconsistent. Here is a suit of clothes +that cost me thirty-four dollars, which I offer you, and you decline.”</p> + +<p>“You know why well enough, sir,” said Joe, “You did not tell me you +intended to dress me in Oscar’s castoff clothes, too small, and +stained at that. I would rather wear the patched suit I have on till +it drops to pieces than wear this suit.”</p> + +<p>“You can go, Joseph,” said Major Norton, in a tone of annoyance. “I +did not expect to find you so unreasonable. If you do not choose to +take what I offer you, you will have to go without.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir.”</p> + +<p>Joe left the room, his face flushed and his heart full of indignation +at the slight which had been attempted on him.</p> + +<p>“It is Oscar’s doings, I have no doubt,” he said to himself. “It is +like his meanness. He meant to mortify me.”</p> + +<p>If there had been any doubt in Joe’s mind, it would soon have been +cleared up. Oscar had been lying in wait for his appearance, and +managed to meet him as he went out into the yard.</p> + +<p>“Where are your new clothes?” he asked mockingly.</p> + +<p>“I have none,” answered Joe.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t my father give you a suit of mine?”</p> + +<p>“He offered me the suit which you stained so badly with acid.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s pretty good,” said Oscar patronizingly. “I only wore it +about a month.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you wear it longer?”</p> + +<p>“Because it isn’t fit for me to wear,” returned Oscar.</p> + +<p>“Nor for me,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say you’ve declined?” exclaimed Oscar, in surprise.</p> + +<p>“That is exactly what I have done.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“You ought to know why.”</p> + +<p>“It is better than the one you have on.”</p> + +<p>“It is too small for me. Besides, it would attract general +attention.”</p> + +<p>“Seems to me somebody is getting proud,” sneered Oscar. “Perhaps you +think Annie Raymond wouldn’t walk with you in that suit?”</p> + +<p>“I think it would make no difference to her,” said Joe. “She was +willing to walk with me in this ragged suit.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t admire her taste.”</p> + +<p>“She didn’t walk with my clothes; she walked with me.”</p> + +<p>“A hired boy!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am a hired boy; but I don’t get very good pay.”</p> + +<p>“You feel above your business, that’s what’s the matter with you.”</p> + +<p>“I hope some time to get higher than my business,” said Joe. “I mean +to rise in the world, if I can.”</p> + +<p>Oscar shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you would like to be a wealthy merchant, or a member of +Congress,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I certainly should.”</p> + +<p>Oscar burst into a sneering laugh, and left Joe alone.</p> + +<p>Joe’s work was done, and, being left free to do as he liked, he +strolled over to the village store.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br /> +THE RETURNED CALIFORNIAN</h2> + +<p>The village store, in the evening, was a sort of village club-house, +where not only the loungers, but a better class, who desired to pass +the evening socially, were wont to congregate. About the center of +the open space was a large box-stove, which in winter was kept full +of wood, ofttimes getting red-hot, and around this sat the villagers. +Some on wooden chairs, some on a wooden settee, with a broken back, +which was ranged on one side.</p> + +<p>Joe frequently came here in the evening to pass a social hour and +kill time. At the house of Major Norton he had no company. Oscar +felt above him, and did not deign to hold any intercourse with his +father’s drudge, while the housekeeper—Major Norton being a +widower—was busy about her own special work, and would have wondered +at Joe if he had sought her company. I make this explanation because +I do not wish it to be understood that Joe was a common village +lounger, or loafer.</p> + +<p>When Joe entered the store he found the usual company present, but +with one addition.</p> + +<p>This was Seth Larkin, who had just returned from California, whither +he had gone eighteen months before, and was, of course, an object of +great attention, and plied with numerous questions by his old +acquaintances in regard to the land of promise in the far West, of +which all had heard so much.</p> + +<p>It was in the fall of the year 1851, and so in the early days of +California.</p> + +<p>Seth was speaking as Joe entered.</p> + +<p>“Is there gold in California?” repeated Seth, apparently in answer to +a question. “I should say there was. Why, it’s chock full of it. +People haven’t begun to find out the richness of the country. It’s +the place for a poor man to go if he wants to become rich. What’s +the prospects here? I ask any one of you. A man may go working and +plodding from one year’s end to another and not have ten dollars at +the end of it. There’s some here that know that I speak the truth.”</p> + +<p>“How much better can a man do in California?” asked Daniel Tompkins.</p> + +<p>“Well, Dan,” said Seth, “it depends on the kind of man he is. If +he’s a man like you, that spends his money for rum as fast as he gets +it, I should say it’s just as well to stay here. But if he’s willing +to work hard, and to put by half he makes, he’s sure to do well, and +he may get rich. Why, I knew a man that landed in California the +same day that I did, went up to the mines, struck a vein, and—well, +how much do you think that man is worth to-day?”</p> + +<p>“A thousand dollars?” suggested Dan Tompkins.</p> + +<p>“Why, I’m worth more than that myself, and I wasn’t lucky, and had +the rheumatism for four months. You’ll have to go higher.”</p> + +<p>“Two thousand?” guessed Sam Stone.</p> + +<p>“We don’t make much account of two thousand dollars in the mines, +Sam,” said Seth.</p> + +<p>“It’s of some account here,” said Sam. “I’ve been workin’ ten years, +and I ain’t saved up a third of it.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t doubt it,” said Seth; “and it ain’t your fault, either. +Money’s scarce round here, and farmin’ don’t pay. You know what I +was workin’ at before I went out—in a shoe shop. I just about made +a poor livin’, and that was all. I didn’t have money enough to pay +my passage out, but I managed to borrow it. Well, it’s paid now, and +I’ve got something left.”</p> + +<p>“You haven’t told us yet how much the man made that you was talkin’ +about,” said Tom Sutter. “It couldn’t be five thousand dollars, now, +could it?”</p> + +<p>“I should say it could,” said Seth.</p> + +<p>“Was it any more?” inquired Dan Tompkins.</p> + +<p>“Well, boys, I s’pose I may as well tell you, and you may b’lieve it +or not, just as you like. That man is worth twenty thousand dollars +to-day.”</p> + +<p>There was a chorus of admiring ejaculations.</p> + +<p>“Twenty thousand dollars! Did you ever hear the like?”</p> + +<p>“Mind, boys, I don’t say it’s common to make so much money in so +short a time. There isn’t one in ten does it, but some make even +more. What I do say is, that a feller that’s industrious, and +willin’ to work, an’ rough it, and save what he makes, is sure to do +well, if he keeps well. That’s all a man has a right to expect, or +to hope for.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure it is.”</p> + +<p>“What made you come home, Seth, if you were gettin’ on so well?” +inquired one.</p> + +<p>“That’s a fair question,” said Seth, “and I’m willin’ to answer it. +It was because of the rheumatics. I had ’em powerful bad at the +mines, and I’ve come home to kinder recuperate, if that’s the right +word. But I’m goin’ back ag’in, you may bet high on that. No more +work in the shoe shop for me at the old rates. I don’t mean that I’d +mind bein’ a manufacturer on a big scale. That’s a little more +stiddy and easy than bein’ at the mines, but that takes more capital +than I’ve got.”</p> + +<p>“How much does it cost to go out there?” asked Dan Tompkins.</p> + +<p>“More money than you can scare together, Dan. First-class, nigh on +to three hundred dollars, I believe.”</p> + +<p>This statement rather dampened the ardor of more than one of the +listeners. Three hundred dollars, or even two, were beyond the +convenient reach of most of those present. They would have to +mortgage their places to get it.</p> + +<p>“You can go second-class for a good deal less, and you can go round +the Horn pretty cheap,” continued Seth.</p> + +<p>“How far away is Californy?” inquired Sam Stone.</p> + +<p>“By way of the isthmus, it must be as much as six thousand miles, and +it’s twice as fur, I reckon, round the Horn. I don’t exactly know +the distance.”</p> + +<p>“Then it’s farther away than Europe,” said Joe, who had been +listening with eager interest.</p> + +<p>“Of course it is,” said Seth. “Why, that’s Joe Mason, isn’t it? How +you’ve grown since I saw you.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think I have?” said Joe, pleased with the assurance.</p> + +<p>“To be sure you have. Why, you’re a big boy of your age. How old +are you?”</p> + +<p>“Fifteen—-nearly sixteen.”</p> + +<p>“That’s about what I thought. Where are you livin’ now, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“I’m working for Major Norton.”</p> + +<p>Seth burst into a laugh.</p> + +<p>“I warrant you haven’t made your fortune yet, Joe,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t made the first start yet toward it.”</p> + +<p>“And you won’t while you work for the major. How much does he pay +you?”</p> + +<p>“Board and clothes.”</p> + +<p>“And them are the clothes?” said Seth, surveying Joe’s appearance +critically.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I guess the major’s tailor’s bill won’t ruin him, then. Are they +the best you’ve got?”</p> + +<p>“No; I’ve got a better suit for Sunday.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s something. You deserve to do better, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could,” said Joe wistfully. “Is there any chance for a boy +in California, Mr. Larkin?”</p> + +<p>“Call me Seth. It’s what I’m used to. I don’t often use the handle +to my name. Well, there’s a chance for a boy, if he’s smart; but +he’s got to work.”</p> + +<p>“I should be willing to do that.”</p> + +<p>“Then, if you ever get the chance, it won’t do you any harm to try +your luck.”</p> + +<p>“How much did you say it costs to get there?”</p> + +<p>“Well, maybe you could get there for a hundred dollars, if you wasn’t +particular how you went.”</p> + +<p>A hundred dollars! It might as well have been ten thousand, as far +as Joe was concerned. He received no money wages, nor was he likely +to as long as he remained in the major’s employ. There was a shoe +shop in the village, where money wages were paid, but there was no +vacancy; and, even if there were, Joe was quite unacquainted with the +business, and it would be a good while before he could do any more +than pay his expenses.</p> + +<p>Joe sighed as he thought how far away was the prospect of his being +able to go to California. He could not help wishing that he were the +possessor of the magic carpet mentioned in the Arabian tale, upon +which the person seated had only to wish himself to be transported +anywhere, and he was carried there in the twinkling of an eye.</p> + +<p>Joe walked home slowly, dreaming of the gold-fields on the other side +of the continent, and wishing he were there.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br /> +JOE’S LEGACY</h2> + +<p>The next day was Saturday. There was no school, but this did not +lighten Joe’s labors, as he was kept at work on the farm all day.</p> + +<p>He was in the barn when Deacon Goodwin, a neighbor, drove up.</p> + +<p>Oscar was standing in front of the house, whittling out a cane from a +stick he had cut in the woods.</p> + +<p>“Is Joe Mason at home?” the deacon inquired.</p> + +<p>Oscar looked up in surprise. Why should the deacon want Joe Mason?</p> + +<p>“I suppose he is,” drawled Oscar.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know?”</p> + +<p>“Probably he is in the barn,” said Oscar indifferently.</p> + +<p>“Will you call him? I want to see him on business.”</p> + +<p>Oscar was still more surprised. He was curious about the business, +but his pride revolted at the idea of being sent to summon Joe.</p> + +<p>“You’ll find him in the barn,” said he.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to leave my horse,” said the deacon. “I will take it +as a favor if you will call him.”</p> + +<p>Oscar hesitated. Finally he decided to go and then return to hear +what business Joe and the deacon had together. He rather hoped that +Joe had been trespassing on the deacon’s grounds, and was to be +reprimanded.</p> + +<p>He opened the barn door and called out:</p> + +<p>“Deacon Goodwin wants you out at the gate.”</p> + +<p>Joe was as much surprised as Oscar.</p> + +<p>He followed Oscar to the front of the house and bade the deacon good +morning.</p> + +<p>“Oscar tells me you want to see me,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Joe. Do you remember your Aunt Susan?”</p> + +<p>“My mother’s aunt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; she’s dead and buried.”</p> + +<p>“She was pretty old,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“The old lady had a small pension,” continued the deacon, “that just +about kept her, but she managed to save a little out of it. When the +funeral expenses were paid it was found that there were fifty-six +dollars and seventy-five cents over.”</p> + +<p>“What’s going to be done with it?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“She’s left it to you,” was the unexpected reply, “You was the +nearest relation she had, and it was her wish that whatever was left +should go to you.”</p> + +<p>“I’m very much obliged to her. I didn’t expect anything. I had +almost forgotten I had a great-aunt.”</p> + +<p>“The money has been sent to me, Joe,” continued the deacon. “I’m +ready to pay it over to you when you want it, but I hope you won’t +spend it foolish.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I shall, Deacon Goodwin.”</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t take long to spend it, Joe,” said the deacon. “Do you +want me to keep it for you?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe; “I haven’t had time to think. I’ll come +round to-night and see you.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Joseph. G’lang, Dobbin!” and the deacon started his old +horse, who had completed his quarter century, along the road.</p> + +<p>Oscar had listened, not without interest, to the conversation. +Though he was the son of a rich man, he had not at command so large a +sum as his father’s hired boy had fallen heir to. On the whole, he +respected Joe rather more than when he was altogether penniless.</p> + +<p>“You’re in luck, Joe,” said he graciously.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joe. “It’s very unexpected.”</p> + +<p>“You might buy yourself a new suit of clothes.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t intend to do that.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? You were wishing for one yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“Because it is your father’s place to keep me in clothes. That’s the +bargain I made with him.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you are right,” said Oscar.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what you can do,” he said, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“You might buy a boat.”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t have any time to use it.”</p> + +<p>“You might go out with it in the evening. I would look after it in +the daytime.”</p> + +<p>No doubt this arrangement would be satisfactory to Oscar, who would +reap all the advantage, but Joe did not see it in a favorable light.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I should care to buy a boat,” he said.</p> + +<p>“What do you say to buying a revolver?”</p> + +<p>“I think it would be better to put it on interest.”</p> + +<p>“You’d better get the good of it now. You might die and then what +use would the money be?”</p> + +<p>On the way to the deacon’s Joe fell in with Seth Larkin.</p> + +<p>“Well, my boy, where are you bound?” asked Seth.</p> + +<p>“To collect my fortune,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Seth asked for an explanation and received it.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad for you and I wish it were more.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“What for? Anything particular?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; if it was enough, I would go to California.”</p> + +<p>“And you really want to go?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I suppose fifty dollars wouldn’t be enough?”</p> + +<p>“No; it wouldn’t,” said Seth; “but I’ll tell you what you could do.”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“Go to New York and keep yourself till you got a chance to work your +passage round the Horn.”</p> + +<p>“So I might,” said Joe, brightening up.</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t be easy, but you wouldn’t mind that.”</p> + +<p>“No; I wouldn’t mind that.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if you decide to go, come round and see me to-morrow, and I’ll +give you the best advice I can.”</p> + +<p>The deacon opposed Joe’s plan, but in vain. Our hero had made up his +mind. Finally the old man counted out the money and Joe put it in an +old wallet.</p> + +<p>The next thing was to give Major Norton warning.</p> + +<p>“Major Norton,” said Joe, “I should like to have you get another boy +in my place.”</p> + +<p>“What, Joe?” exclaimed the major.</p> + +<p>“I am going to leave town.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” asked his employer.</p> + +<p>“First to New York and afterwards to California.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I declare! Is it because you ain’t satisfied with your +clothes?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I don’t see much prospect for me if I stay here and I have +heard a good deal about California.”</p> + +<p>“But you haven’t got any money.”</p> + +<p>“I have almost sixty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; Oscar told me. You’d better stay here.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I have made up my mind.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll come back in a month without a cent.”</p> + +<p>“If I do, I’ll go to work again for you.”</p> + +<p>Monday morning came. Clad in his Sunday suit of cheap and rough +cloth, Joe stood on the platform at the depot. The cars came up, he +jumped aboard, and his heart beat with exultation as he reflected +that he had taken the first step toward the Land of Gold.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br /> +AT THE COMMERCIAL HOTEL</h2> + +<p>Joe had never been in New York and when he arrived the bustle and +confusion at first bewildered him.</p> + +<p>“Have a hack, young man?” inquired a jehu.</p> + +<p>“What’ll you charge?”</p> + +<p>“A dollar and a half, and half-a-dollar for your baggage.”</p> + +<p>“This is all the baggage I have,” said Joe, indicating a bundle tied +in a red cotton handkerchief.</p> + +<p>“Then, I’ll only charge a dollar and a half,” said the hackman.</p> + +<p>“I’ll walk,” said Joe. “I can’t afford to pay a dollar and a half.”</p> + +<p>“You can’t walk; it’s too far.”</p> + +<p>“How far is it?”</p> + +<p>“Ten miles, more or less,” answered the hackman.</p> + +<p>“Then I shall save fifteen cents a mile,” said Joe, not much alarmed, +for he did not believe the statement.</p> + +<p>“If you lose your way, don’t blame me.”</p> + +<p>Joe made his way out of the crowd, and paused at the corner of the +next street for reflection. Finally he stopped at an apple and +peanut stand, and, as a matter of policy, purchased an apple.</p> + +<p>“I am from the country,” he said, “and I want to find a cheap hotel. +Can you recommend one to me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the peanut merchant. “I know of one where they charge a +dollar a day.”</p> + +<p>“Is that cheap? What do they charge at the St. Nicholas?”</p> + +<p>“Two dollars a day.”</p> + +<p>“A day?” asked Joe, in amazement.</p> + +<p>It must be remembered that this was over fifty years ago. Joe would +have greater cause to be startled at the prices now asked at our +fashionable hotels.</p> + +<p>“Well, you can go to the cheap hotel.”</p> + +<p>“Where is it?”</p> + +<p>The requisite directions were given. It was the Commercial Hotel, +located in a down-town street.</p> + +<p>The Commercial Hotel, now passed away, or doing business under a +changed name, was not a stylish inn.</p> + +<p>It was rather dark and rather dingy, but Joe did not notice that +particularly. He had never seen a fine hotel, and this structure, +being four stories in height above the offices, seemed to him rather +imposing than otherwise.</p> + +<p>He walked up to the desk, on which was spread out, wide open, the +hotel register. Rather a dissipated-looking clerk stood behind the +counter, picking his teeth.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, sir,” said Joe politely. “What do you charge to stay +here?”</p> + +<p>“A dollar a day,” answered the clerk.</p> + +<p>“Can you give me a room?”</p> + +<p>“I guess so, my son. Where is your trunk?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t got any.”</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you got any baggage?”</p> + +<p>“Here it is.”</p> + +<p>The clerk looked rather superciliously at the small bundle.</p> + +<p>“Then you’ll have to pay in advance.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Joe. “I’ll pay a day in advance.”</p> + +<p>A freckle-faced boy was summoned, provided with the key of No. 161, +and Joe was directed to follow him.</p> + +<p>“Shall I take your bundle?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No, thank you. I can carry it myself.”</p> + +<p>They went up-stairs, until Joe wondered when they were going to stop. +Finally the boy paused at the top floor, for the very good reason +that he could get no higher, and opened the door of 161.</p> + +<p>“There you are,” said the boy. “Is there anything else you want?”</p> + +<p>“No, thank you.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry there ain’t a bureau to keep your clothes,” said the +freckle-faced boy, glancing at Joe’s small bundle with a smile.</p> + +<p>“It is inconvenient,” answered Joe, taking the joke.</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t like some hot water for shaving, would you?” asked the +boy, with a grin.</p> + +<p>“You can have some put on to heat and I’ll order it when my beard is +grown,” said Joe good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>“All right. I’ll tell ’em to be sure and have it ready in two or +three years.”</p> + +<p>“That will be soon enough. You’d better order some for yourself at +the same time.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I get in hot water every day.”</p> + +<p>The freckle-faced boy disappeared, and Joe sat down on the bed, to +reflect a little on his position and plans.</p> + +<p>So here he was in New York, and on the way to California, too—that +is, he hoped so. How much can happen in a little while. Three days +before he had not dreamed of any change in his position.</p> + +<p>“I hope I shan’t have to go back again to Oakville. I won’t go +unless I am obliged to,” he determined.</p> + +<p>He washed his hands and face, and went down-stairs. He found that +dinner was just ready. It was not a luxurious meal, but, compared +with the major’s rather frugal table, there was great variety and +luxury. Joe did justice to it.</p> + +<p>“Folks live better in the city than they do in the country,” he +thought; “but, then, they have to pay for it. A dollar a day! Why, +that would make three hundred and sixty-five dollars a year!”</p> + +<p>This to Joe seemed a very extravagant sum to spend on one person’s +board and lodging.</p> + +<p>“Now,” thought Joe, after dinner was over, “the first thing for me to +find out is when the California steamer starts and what is the lowest +price I can go for.”</p> + +<p>In the barroom Joe found a file of two of the New York daily papers, +and began to search for the advertisement of the California steamers.</p> + +<p>At last he found it.</p> + +<p>The steamer was to start in three days. Apply for passage and any +information at the company’s offices.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go right down there, and find out whether I’ve got money enough +to take me,” Joe decided.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br /> +JOE BUYS A TICKET</h2> + +<p>The office of the steamer was on the wharf from which it was to +start. Already a considerable amount of freight was lying on the +wharf ready to be loaded. Joe made his way to the office.</p> + +<p>“Well, boy, what’s your business?” inquired a stout man with a red +face, who seemed to be in charge.</p> + +<p>“Is this the office of the California steamer, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What is the lowest price for passage?”</p> + +<p>“A hundred dollars for the steerage.”</p> + +<p>When Joe heard this his heart sank within him. It seemed to be the +death-blow to his hopes. He had but fifty dollars, or thereabouts, +and there was no chance whatever of getting the extra fifty.</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t I pay you fifty dollars now and the rest as soon as I can +earn it in California?” he pleaded.</p> + +<p>“We don’t do business in that way.”</p> + +<p>“I’d be sure to pay it, sir, if I lived,” said Joe. “Perhaps you +think I am not honest.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know whether you are or not,” said the agent cavalierly. +“We never do business in that way.”</p> + +<p>Joe left the office not a little disheartened.</p> + +<p>“I wish it had been a hundred dollars Aunt Susan left me,” he said to +himself.</p> + +<p>Joe’s spirits were elastic, however. He remembered that Seth had +never given him reason to suppose that the money he had would pay his +passage by steamer. He had mentioned working his passage in a +sailing-vessel round the Horn. Joe did not like that idea so well, +as the voyage would probably last four months, instead of twenty-five +days, and so delay his arrival.</p> + +<p>The afternoon slipped away almost without Joe’s knowledge. He walked +about, here and there, gazing with curious eyes at the streets, and +warehouses, and passing vehicles, and thinking what a lively place +New York was, and how different life was in the metropolis from what +it had been to him in the quiet country town which had hitherto been +his home. Somehow it seemed to wake Joe up, and excite his ambition, +to give him a sense of power which he had never felt before.</p> + +<p>“If I could only get a foothold here,” thought Joe, “I should be +willing to work twice as hard as I did on the farm.”</p> + +<p>This was what Joe thought. I don’t say that he was correct. There +are many country boys who make a mistake in coming to the city. They +forsake quiet, comfortable homes, where they have all they need, to +enter some city counting-room, or store, at starvation wages, with, +at best, a very remote prospect of advancement and increased risk of +falling a prey to temptation in some of the many forms which it +assumes in a populous town. A boy needs to be strong, and +self-reliant, and willing to work if he comes to the city to compete +for the prizes of life. As the story proceeds, we shall learn +whether Joe had these necessary qualifications.</p> + +<p>When supper was over he went into the public room of the Commercial +Hotel, and took up a paper to read. There was a paragraph about +California, and some recent discoveries there, which he read with +avidity.</p> + +<p>Though Joe was not aware of it, he was closely observed by a +dark-complexioned man, dressed in rather a flashy manner. When our +hero laid down the paper this man commenced a conversation.</p> + +<p>“I take it you are a stranger in the city, my young friend?” he +observed, in an affable manner.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” answered Joe, rather glad to have some one to speak to. +“I only arrived this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! May I ask from what part of the country you come?”</p> + +<p>“From Oakville, New Jersey.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! I know the place. It is quite a charming town.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about that,” said Joe. “It’s pretty quiet and +dull—nothing going on.”</p> + +<p>“So you have come to the city to try your luck?”</p> + +<p>“I want to go to California.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see—to the gold-diggings.”</p> + +<p>“Have you ever been there, sir?”</p> + +<p>“No; but I have had many friends go there. When do you expect to +start?”</p> + +<p>“Why, that is what puzzles me,” Joe replied frankly. “I may not be +able to go at all.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t got money enough to buy a ticket.”</p> + +<p>“You have got some money, haven’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I have fifty dollars; but I need that a hundred dollars is the +lowest price for a ticket.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be discouraged, my young friend,” said the stranger, in the +most friendly manner. “I am aware that the ordinary charge for a +steerage ticket is one hundred dollars, but exceptions are sometimes +made.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think they will make one in my case,” said Joe. “I told the +agent I would agree to pay the other, half as soon as I earned it, +but he said he didn’t do business in that way.”</p> + +<p>“Of course. You are a stranger to him, don’t you see? That makes +all the difference in the world. Now, I happen to be personally +acquainted with him. I am sure he would do me a favor. Just give me +the fifty dollars, and I’ll warrant I’ll get the ticket for you.”</p> + +<p>Joe was not wholly without caution, and the thought of parting with +his money to a stranger didn’t strike him favorably. Not that he had +any doubts as to his new friend’s integrity, but it didn’t seem +businesslike.</p> + +<p>“Can’t I go with you to the office?” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“I think I can succeed better in the negotiation if I am alone,” said +the stranger. “I’ll tell you what—you needn’t hand me the money, +provided you agree to take the ticket off my hands at fifty dollars +if I secure it.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly I will, and be very thankful to you.”</p> + +<p>“I always like to help young men along,” said the stranger +benevolently. “I’ll see about it to-morrow. Now, where can I meet +you?”</p> + +<p>“In this room. How will that do?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly. I am sure I can get the ticket for you. Be sure to have +the money ready.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be sure,” said Joe cheerfully.</p> + +<p>“And hark you, my young friend,” continued the stranger, “don’t say a +word to any one of what I am going to do for you, or I might have +other applications, which I should be obliged to refuse.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir. I will remember.”</p> + +<p>Punctually at four the next day the stranger entered the room, where +Joe was already awaiting him.</p> + +<p>“Have you succeeded?” asked Joe eagerly.</p> + +<p>The stranger nodded.</p> + +<p>“Let us go up to your room and complete our business. For reasons +which I have already mentioned, I prefer that the transaction should +be secret.”</p> + +<p>“All right, sir.”</p> + +<p>Joe got his key, and led the way up-stairs.</p> + +<p>“I had a little difficulty with the agent,” said the stranger; “but +finally he yielded, out of old friendship.” He produced a large card, +which read thus:</p> + + +<p class="center p1 p1bot fs120"><b>CALIFORNIA STEAMSHIP COMPANY.<br /> +THE BEARER<br /> +Is Entitled to One Steerage Passage<br /> +FROM<br /> +NEW YORK TO SAN FRANCISCO<br /> +STEAMER COLUMBUS.</b></p> + + +<p>Below this was printed the name of the agent. Joe paid over the +money joyfully.</p> + +<p>“I am very much obliged to you,” he said gratefully.</p> + +<p>“Don’t mention it,” said the stranger, pocketing the fifty dollars. +“Good day! Sorry to leave you, but I am to meet a gentleman at five.”</p> + +<p>He went down-stairs, and left Joe alone.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br /> +JOE GETS INTO TROUBLE</h2> + +<p>“How lucky I have been,” thought Joe, in the best of spirits. “There +wasn’t one chance in ten of my succeeding, and yet I have succeeded. +Everything has turned out right. If I hadn’t met this man, I +couldn’t have got a ticket at half price.”</p> + +<p>Joe found that after paying his hotel expenses, he should have a +dollar left over. This would be rather a small sum to start with in +California, but Joe didn’t trouble himself much about that.</p> + +<p>In the course of the day Joe found himself in the upper part of the +Bowery. It seemed to him a very lively street, and he was much +interested in looking in at the shop windows as he passed.</p> + +<p>He was standing before a window, when a stone from some quarter +struck the pane and shivered it in pieces.</p> + +<p>Joe was startled, and was gazing at the scene of havoc in +bewilderment, when a stout German, the proprietor, rushed out and +seized him by the collar.</p> + +<p>“Aha! I have you, you young rascal!” he exclaimed furiously. “I’ll +make you pay for this!”</p> + +<p>By this time Joe had recovered his senses.</p> + +<p>“Let me alone!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“I let you know!” exclaimed the angry man. “You break my window! +You pay me five dollar pretty quick, or I send you to prison!”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t break your window! It’s a lie!”</p> + +<p>“You tell me I lie?” shouted the angry German. “First you break my +window, then you tell me I lie! You, one bad boy—you one loafer!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know who broke your window,” said Joe, “but I tell you I +didn’t. I was standing here, looking in, when, all at once, I heard +a crash.”</p> + +<p>“You take me for one fool, perhaps,” said his captor, puffing with +excitement. “You want to get away, hey?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do.”</p> + +<p>“And get no money for my window?”</p> + +<p>By this time a crowd had collected around the chief actors in this +scene. They were divided in opinion.</p> + +<p>“Don’t he look wicked, the young scamp?” said a thin-visaged female +with a long neck.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said her companion. “He’s one of them street rowdies that go +around doin’ mischief. They come around and pull my bell, and run +away, the villians!”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, my boy?” asked a tall man with sandy hair, +addressing himself to Joe in a friendly tone.</p> + +<p>“This man says I broke his window.”</p> + +<p>“How was it? Did you break it?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I was standing looking in, when a stone came from +somewhere and broke it.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, sir,” said the sandy-haired man, addressing himself to +the German, “what reason have you for charging this boy with breaking +your window?”</p> + +<p>“He stood shoost in front of it,” said the German.</p> + +<p>“If he had broken it, he would have run away. Didn’t that occur to +you?”</p> + +<p>“Some one broke mine window,” said the German.</p> + +<p>“Of course; but a boy who threw a stone must do so from a distance, +and he wouldn’t be likely to run up at once to the broken window.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not. The man’s a fool!” were the uncomplimentary remarks +of the bystanders, who a minute before had looked upon Joe as +undoubtedly guilty.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got no case at all,” said Joe’s advocate. “Let go the boy’s +collar, or I shall advise him to charge you with assault and battery.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe you one friend of his?” said the German.</p> + +<p>“I never saw the boy before in my life,” said the other, “but I don’t +want him falsely accused.”</p> + +<p>“Somebody must pay for my window.”</p> + +<p>“That’s fair; but it must be the boy or man that broke it, not my +young friend here, who had no more to do with it than myself. I +sympathize with you, and wish you could catch the scamp that did it.”</p> + +<p>At that moment a policeman came up.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“My window was broke—dat’s what’s de matter.”</p> + +<p>“Who broke it?” asked the policeman.</p> + +<p>“I caught dat boy standing outside,” pointing to Joe.</p> + +<p>“Aha, you young rascal! I’ve caught you, have I? I’ve had my eye on +you for weeks!”</p> + +<p>And Joe, to his dismay, found himself collared anew.</p> + +<p>“I’ve only been in the city two days,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Take him to jail!” exclaimed the German.</p> + +<p>And the policeman was about to march off poor Joe, when a voice of +authority stayed him.</p> + +<p>“Officer, release that boy!” said the sandy-haired man sternly.</p> + +<p>“I’ll take you along, too, if you interfere.”</p> + +<p>“Release that boy!” repeated the other sternly; “and arrest the +German for assault and battery. I charge him with assaulting this +boy!”</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” demanded the officer insolently.</p> + +<p>“My name is ——, and I am one of the new police commissioners,” +said the sandy-haired man quietly.</p> + +<p>Never was there a quicker change from insolence to fawning.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir,” said the officer, instantly releasing +Joe. “I didn’t know you.”</p> + +<p>“Nor your duty, either, it appears,” said the commissioner sternly. +“Without one word of inquiry into the circumstances, you were about +to arrest this boy. A pretty minister of justice you are!”</p> + +<p>“Shall I take this man along, sir?” asked the policeman, quite +subdued.</p> + +<p>At this suggestion the bulky Teuton hurried into his shop, trembling +with alarm. With great difficulty he concealed himself under the +counter.</p> + +<p>“You may let him go this time. He has some excuse for his conduct, +having suffered loss by the breaking of his window. As for you, +officer, unless you are more careful in future, you will not long +remain a member of the force.”</p> + +<p>The crowd disappeared, only Joe and his advocate remaining behind.</p> + +<p>“I am grateful to you, sir, for your kindness,” said Joe. “But for +you I should have been carried to the station-house.”</p> + +<p>“It is fortunate I came along just as I did. Are you a stranger in +the city?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You must be careful not to run into danger. There are many perils +in the city for the inexperienced.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir. I shall remember your advice.”</p> + +<p>The next day, about two hours before the time of sailing, Joe went +down to the wharf.</p> + +<p>As he was going on board a man stopped him.</p> + +<p>“Have you got a ticket?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Joe, “a steerage ticket. There it is.”</p> + +<p>“Where did you get this?” asked the man.</p> + +<p>Joe told him.</p> + +<p>“How much did you pay for it?”</p> + +<p>“Fifty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have lost your money, for it is a bogus ticket. You can’t +travel on it.”</p> + +<p>Joe stared at the other in blank dismay. The earth seemed to be +sinking under him. He realized that he had been outrageously +swindled, and that he was farther from going to California than ever.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br /> +JOE’S LUCK CHANGES</h2> + +<p>The intelligence that his ticket was valueless came to Joe like a +thunderbolt from a clear sky. The minute before he was in high +spirits—his prospects seemed excellent and his path bright.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do?” he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you,” said the officer. “One thing is clear—you can’t +go to California on that ticket.”</p> + +<p>Poor Joe! For the moment hope was dead within his breast. He had +but one dollar left and that was only half the amount necessary to +carry him back to the village where we found him at the commencement +of our story. Even if he were able to go back, he felt he would be +ashamed to report the loss of his money. The fact that he had +allowed himself to be swindled mortified him not a little. He would +never hear the last of it if he returned to Oakville.</p> + +<p>“No; I wouldn’t go back if I could,” he decided.</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t I like to get hold of the man that sold me the ticket!”</p> + +<p>He had hardly given mental expression to this wish when it was +gratified. The very man passed him and was about to cross the +gangplank into the steamer. Joe’s eyes flashed, and he sprang +forward and seized the man by the arm.</p> + +<p>The swindler’s countenance changed when he recognized Joe, but he +quickly decided upon his course.</p> + +<p>“What do you want, Johnny?” he asked composedly.</p> + +<p>“What do I want? I want my fifty dollars back.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what you are talking about.”</p> + +<p>“You sold me a bogus ticket for fifty dollars,” said Joe stoutly. +“Here it is. Take it back and give me my money.”</p> + +<p>“The boy must be crazy,” said the swindler.</p> + +<p>“Did you sell him that ticket?” inquired the officer.</p> + +<p>“Never saw him before in my life.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t you mistaken, boy?” asked the officer.</p> + +<p>“No, sir. This is the very man.”</p> + +<p>“Have you any business here?” asked the officer.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the man; “I’ve taken a steerage ticket to San Francisco. +Here it is.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Go in.”</p> + +<p>He tore himself from Joe’s grasp and went on board the steamer. Our +hero, provoked, was about to follow him, when the officer said:</p> + +<p>“Stand back! You have no ticket.”</p> + +<p>“That man bought his ticket with my money.”</p> + +<p>“That is nothing to me,” said the officer. “It may be so, or you may +be mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“I am not mistaken,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You can report it to the police—that is, if you think you can prove +it. Now, stand back!”</p> + +<p>Poor Joe! He had been worsted in the encounter with this +arch-swindler. He would sail for San Francisco on the Columbus. +Perhaps he would make his fortune there, while Joe, whom he had so +swindled, might, within three days, be reduced to beggary.</p> + +<p>Joe felt that his confidence in human nature was badly shaken. +Injustice and fraud seemed to have the best of it in this world, so +far as his experience went, and it really seemed as if dishonesty +were the best policy. It is a hard awakening for a trusting boy, +when he first comes in contact with selfishness and corruption.</p> + +<p>Joe fell back because he was obliged to. He looked around, hoping +that he might somewhere see a policeman, for he wanted to punish the +scoundrel to whom he owed his unhappiness and loss. But, as +frequently happens, when an officer is wanted none is to be seen.</p> + +<p>Joe did not leave the wharf. Time was not of much value to him, and +he decided that he might as well remain and see the steamer start on +which he had fondly hoped to be a passenger.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the preparations for departure went steadily forward. +Trunks arrived and were conveyed on board; passengers, accompanied by +their friends, came, and all was hurry and bustle.</p> + +<p>Two young men, handsomely dressed and apparently possessed of larger +means than the great majority of the passengers, got out of a hack +and paused close to where Joe was standing.</p> + +<p>“Dick,” said one, “I’m really sorry you are not going with me. I +shall feel awfully lonely without you.”</p> + +<p>“I am very much disappointed, Charlie, but duty will keep me at home. +My father’s sudden, alarming sickness has broken up all my plans.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Dick, of course you can’t go.”</p> + +<p>“If my father should recover, in a few weeks, I will come out and +join you, Charlie.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you may be able to, Dick. By the way, how about your ticket?”</p> + +<p>“I shall have to lose it, unless the company will give me another in +place of it.”</p> + +<p>“They ought to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but they are rather stiff about it. I would sell it for a +hundred dollars.”</p> + +<p>Joe heard this and his heart beat high.</p> + +<p>He pressed forward, and said eagerly:</p> + +<p>“Will you sell it to me for that?”</p> + +<p>The young man addressed as Dick looked, in surprise, at the poorly +dressed boy who had addressed him.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to go to California?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Joe. “I am very anxious to go.”</p> + +<p>“Do I understand you to offer a hundred dollars for my ticket?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; but I can’t pay you now.”</p> + +<p>“When do you expect to be able to pay me, then?”</p> + +<p>“Not till I’ve earned the money in California.”</p> + +<p>“Have you thought before of going?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. Until an hour ago I thought that it was all arranged that +I should go. I came down here and found that the ticket I had bought +was a bogus one, and that I had been swindled out of my money.”</p> + +<p>“That was a mean trick,” said Dick Scudder indignantly. “Do you know +the man that cheated you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he is on board the steamer.”</p> + +<p>“How much money have you got left?”</p> + +<p>“A dollar.”</p> + +<p>“Only a dollar? And you are not afraid to land in California with +this sum?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I shall go to work at once.”</p> + +<p>“Charlie,” said Dick, turning to his friend, “I will do as you say. +Are you willing to take this boy into your stateroom in my place?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Charles Folsom promptly. “He looks like a good boy. I +accept him as my roommate.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said the other. “My boy, what is your name?”</p> + +<p>“Joe Mason.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Joe, here is my ticket. If you are ever able to pay a hundred +dollars for this ticket, you may pay it to my friend, Charles Folsom. +Now, I advise you both to be getting aboard, as it is nearly time for +the steamer to sail. I won’t go on with you, Charlie, as I must go +back to my father’s bedside.”</p> + +<p>“Good-by, sir. God bless you!” said Joe gratefully. “Good-by, Joe, +and good luck!”</p> + +<p>As they went over the plank, the officer, recognizing Joe, said +roughly:</p> + +<p>“Stand back, boy! Didn’t I tell you you couldn’t go aboard without a +ticket?”</p> + +<p>“Here is my ticket,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“A first-class ticket!” exclaimed the officer, in amazement. “Where +did you get it?”</p> + +<p>“I bought it,” answered Joe.</p> + +<p>“I shall go to California, after all!” thought our hero exultingly.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br /> +THE FIRST DAY ON BOARD</h2> + +<p>“We will look up our stateroom first, Joe,” said his new friend. “It +ought to be a good one.”</p> + +<p>The stateroom proved to be No. 16, very well located and spacious for +a stateroom. But to Joe it seemed very small for two persons. He +was an inexperienced traveler and did not understand that life on +board ship is widely different from life on shore. His companion had +been to Europe and was used to steamer life.</p> + +<p>“I think, Joe,” said he, “that I shall put you in the top berth. The +lower berth is considered more desirable, but I claim it on the score +of age and infirmity.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t look very old, or infirm,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I am twenty-three. And you?”</p> + +<p>“Fifteen—nearly sixteen.”</p> + +<p>“I have a stateroom trunk, which will just slip in under my berth. +Where is your luggage?”</p> + +<p>Joe looked embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know but you will feel ashamed of me,” he said; “but the +only extra clothes I have are tied up in this handkerchief.”</p> + +<p>Charles Folsom whistled.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he, “you are poorly provided. What have you got inside?”</p> + +<p>“A couple of shirts, three collars, two handkerchiefs, and a pair of +stockings.”</p> + +<p>“And you are going a journey of thousands of miles! But never mind,” +he said kindly. “I am not much larger than you, and, if you need it, +I can lend you. Once in California, you will have less trouble than +if you were loaded down with clothes. I must get you to tell me your +story when there is time.”</p> + +<p>They came on deck just in time to see the steamer swing out of the +dock.</p> + +<p>There were some of the passengers with sober faces. They had bidden +farewell to friends and relatives whom they might not see for +years—perhaps never again. They were going to a new country, where +hardships undoubtedly awaited them, and where they must take their +chances of health and success. Some, too, feared seasickness, a +malady justly dreaded by all who have ever felt its prostrating +effects. But Joe only felt joyful exhilaration.</p> + +<p>“You look happy, Joe,” said young Folsom.</p> + +<p>“I feel so,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Are you hoping to make your fortune in California?”</p> + +<p>“I am hoping to make a living,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you make a living here at home?”</p> + +<p>“A poor living, with no prospects ahead. I didn’t mind hard work and +poor clothes, if there had been a prospect of something better by and +by.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me your story. Where were you living?” Charles Folsom listened +attentively.</p> + +<p>“Major Norton didn’t appear disposed to pamper you, or bring you up +in luxury, that’s a fact. It would have been hard lines if, on +account of losing your aunt’s legacy, you had been compelled to go +back to Oakville.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t have gone,” said Joe resolutely.</p> + +<p>“What would you have done?”</p> + +<p>“Stayed in New York, and got a living somehow, even if I had to black +boots in the street.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you’ll do. You’ve got the right spirit. It takes boys and +men like you for pioneers.”</p> + +<p>Joe was gratified at his companion’s approval.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Folsom, “I may as well tell you my story. I am the son +of a New York merchant who is moderately rich. I entered the +counting-room at seventeen, and have remained there ever since, with +the exception of four months spent in Europe.”</p> + +<p>“If you are rich already, why do you go out to California?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“I am not going to the mines; I am going to prospect a little for the +firm. Some day San Francisco will be a large city. I am going to +see how soon it will pay for our house to establish a branch there.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I shall probably go out to the mines and take a general survey of +the country; but, as you see, I do not go out to obtain employment.”</p> + +<p>“It must be jolly not to have to work,” said Joe, “but to have plenty +of money to pay your expenses.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose it is convenient. I believe you haven’t a large +cash surplus?”</p> + +<p>“I have a dollar.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve got some pluck to travel so far away from home with such a +slender capital, by Jove!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that it’s pluck. It’s necessity.”</p> + +<p>“Something of both, perhaps. Don’t you feel afraid of what may +happen?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joe. “California is a new country, and there must be +plenty of work. Now, I am willing to work and I don’t believe I +shall starve.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to feel, Joe. At the worst, you have me to fall back +upon. I won’t see you suffer.”</p> + +<p>“It is very lucky for me. I hope I shan’t give you any trouble.”</p> + +<p>“If you do, I’ll tell you of it,” said Folsom, laughing. “The fact +is, I feel rather as if I were your guardian. An odd feeling that, +as hitherto I have been looked after by others. Now it is my turn to +assume authority.”</p> + +<p>“You will find me obedient,” said Joe, smiling. “Seriously, I am so +inexperienced in the way of the world that I shall consider it a +great favor if you will give me any hints you may think useful to me.”</p> + +<p>Folsom became more and more pleased with his young charge. He saw +that he was manly, amiable, and of good principles, with only one +great fault—poverty—which he was quite willing to overlook.</p> + +<p>They selected their seats in the saloon, and were fortunate enough to +be assigned to the captain’s table. Old travelers know that those +who sit at this table are likely to fare better than those who are +farther removed.</p> + +<p>While Folsom was walking the deck with an old friend, whom he had +found among the passengers, Joe went on an exploring expedition.</p> + +<p>He made his way to that portion of the deck appropriated to the +steerage passengers. Among them his eye fell on the man who swindled +him.</p> + +<p>“You here!” exclaimed the fellow in amazement.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joe, “I am here.”</p> + +<p>“I thought you said your ticket wasn’t good?”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t, as you very well know.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know anything about it. How did you smuggle yourself +aboard?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t smuggle myself aboard at all. I came on like the rest of +the passengers.”</p> + +<p>“Why haven’t I seen you before?”</p> + +<p>“I am not a steerage passenger. I am traveling first-class.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean it!” ejaculated the fellow, thoroughly astonished. +“You told me you hadn’t any more money.”</p> + +<p>“So I did, and that shows that you were the man that sold me the +bogus ticket.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing of the kind,” said the other, but he seemed taken aback by +Joe’s charge. “Well, all I can say is, that you know how to get +round. When a man or boy can travel first-class without a cent of +money, he’ll do.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t have come at all if I had had to swindle a poor boy out +of his money,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Joe walked off without receiving an answer. He took pains to +ascertain the name of the man who had defrauded him. He was entered +on the passenger-list as Henry Hogan.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br /> +THE DETECTED THIEF</h2> + +<p>“Do you expect to be seasick, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Mr. Folsom. This is the first time I have ever been +at sea.”</p> + +<p>“I have crossed the Atlantic twice, and been sick each time. I +suppose I have a tendency that way.”</p> + +<p>“How does it feel?” asked Joe curiously.</p> + +<p>Folsom laughed.</p> + +<p>“It cannot be described,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“Then I would rather remain ignorant,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You are right. This is a case where ignorance is bliss decidedly.”</p> + +<p>Twenty-four hours out Folsom’s anticipations were realized. He +experienced nausea and his head swam.</p> + +<p>Returning from a walk on deck, Joe found his guardian lying down in +the stateroom.</p> + +<p>“Is anything the matter, Mr. Folsom?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing but what I expected. The demon of the sea has me in his +gripe.”</p> + +<p>“Can I do anything for you?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing at present, Joe. What art can minister to a stomach +diseased? I must wait patiently, and it will wear off. Don’t you +feel any of the symptoms?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no—I feel bully,” said Joe. “I’ve got a capital appetite.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you will be spared. It would be dismal for both of us to be +groaning with seasickness.”</p> + +<p>“Shall I stay with you?”</p> + +<p>“No—go on deck. That is the best way to keep well. My sickness +won’t last more than a day or two.”</p> + +<p>The young man’s expectations were realized. After forty-eight hours +he recovered from his temporary indisposition and reappeared on deck.</p> + +<p>He found that his young companion, had made a number of +acquaintances, and had become a general favorite through his frank +and pleasant manners.</p> + +<p>“I think you’ll get on, Joe,” said he. “You make friends easily.”</p> + +<p>“I try to do it,” said Joe modestly.</p> + +<p>“You are fast getting over your country greenness. Of course you +couldn’t help having a share of it, having never lived outside of a +small country village.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad you think so, Mr. Folsom. I suppose I was very green and +I haven’t got over it yet, but in six months I hope to get rid of it +wholly.”</p> + +<p>“It won’t take six months at the rate you are advancing.”</p> + +<p>Day succeeded day and Joe was not sick at all. He carried a good +appetite to every meal and entered into the pleasures of sea life +with zest. He played shuffle-board on deck, guessed daily the ship’s +run, was on the alert for distant sails, and managed in one way or +another to while away the time cheerfully.</p> + +<p>They had got into the Gulf of Mexico, when, one day, there was an +unwonted commotion in the steerage.</p> + +<p>A poor German had lost forty dollars, the entire capital he was +carrying with him to the new country.</p> + +<p>“Some tief has rob me,” he complained, in accents of mingled grief +and anger. “He has rob me of all my gold. He has not left me one +cent.”</p> + +<p>“When did you miss the money?” inquired the first officer.</p> + +<p>“Just now,” said the poor German.</p> + +<p>“When did you see it last?”</p> + +<p>“Last night when I went to mine bed.”</p> + +<p>“Did you take off your clothes?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“What men sleep near you?”</p> + +<p>The German pointed to two. The first was a German.</p> + +<p>“But he would not rob me. He is mine friend,” he said. “He is +Fritz.”</p> + +<p>“Who is the other man?”</p> + +<p>The German pointed to Henry Hogan, the same man who had defrauded Joe.</p> + +<p>“The man’s a fool,” said Hogan. “Does he mean to say a gentleman +like me would steal his paltry money?”</p> + +<p>“He hasn’t said so,” said the first officer quietly. “He only said +that you slept near him.”</p> + +<p>“He’d better not accuse me,” blustered Hogan.</p> + +<p>The officer was a judge of human nature, and Hogan’s manner and words +made him suspect that he was really the guilty party.</p> + +<p>“My man,” said he, “you are making a fuss before you are accused. No +charge has been made against you. The man’s money has been taken, +and some one must have taken it.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe he ever had any,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Can you prove that you had the money?” asked the officer, addressing +the German. “Has any one on board seen it in your possession?”</p> + +<p>An Irishman named Riley came forward.</p> + +<p>“That can I do,” said he. “It was only yesterday morning that I saw +the man counting his money.”</p> + +<p>“In what denomination was the money?”</p> + +<p>Pat Riley scratched his head.</p> + +<p>“Sure I didn’t know that money belonged to any denomination, sir.”</p> + +<p>The officer smiled.</p> + +<p>“I mean, was it in five, or ten, or twenty dollar pieces.”</p> + +<p>“There was four tens, sir—four gould eagles.”</p> + +<p>“Is that right?” inquired the officer, turning to the German.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, that’s what I had.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said the officer, “it seems clearly proved that our German +friend here had the money he claims. Now, I suggest that the two men +he has said occupied bunks nearest to him shall be searched. But +first, if the man who has taken the money will come forward +voluntarily and return the same, I will guarantee that he shall +receive no punishment.”</p> + +<p>He paused for a brief space and looked at Hogan.</p> + +<p>Hogan seemed uneasy, but stolid and obstinate.</p> + +<p>“Since my offer is not accepted,” said the officer, “let the two men +be searched.”</p> + +<p>Fritz, the young German, came forward readily.</p> + +<p>“I am ready,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I am not,” said Hogan. “I protest against this outrage. It is an +infringement of my rights as an American citizen. If any one dares +to lay hands on me, I will have him arrested as soon as we reach +California.”</p> + +<p>His threat produced no effect upon the officer. At a signal two +sailors seized him, and, despite his struggles, turned his pockets +inside out.</p> + +<p>Among the contents were found four gold eagles.</p> + +<p>“It is my money!” exclaimed the poor German.</p> + +<p>“You lie! The money is mine!” said Hogan furiously.</p> + +<p>“There was a cross, which I scratched with a pin, on one piece,” said +the German. “Look! see if it is there.”</p> + +<p>Examination was made, and the scratch was found just as he described +it.</p> + +<p>“The money evidently belongs to the German,” said the officer. “Give +it to him.”</p> + +<p>“You are robbing me of my money,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Look here, my friend, you had better be quiet,” said the officer +significantly, “or I will have you tied up to keep out of mischief. +You are getting off very well as it is. I have no doubt you have +been up to other dishonest tricks before this one.”</p> + +<p>“That is true, sir,” said Joe, speaking up for the first time. “This +is the same man who sold me a bogus ticket, two days before we +sailed, for fifty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a lie!” said Hogan. “I’ll be even with you some time, boy, for +that lie of yours.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care for the threats of such a scoundrel as you are,” said +Joe undauntedly.</p> + +<p>“Look out for him, Joe,” said Folsom. “He will try to do you a +mischief some time.”</p> + +<p>He would have been confirmed in his opinion had he observed the +glance of hatred with which the detected thief followed his young +ward.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br /> +JOE ARRIVES IN SAN FRANCISCO</h2> + +<p>At the isthmus they exchanged steamers, crossing the narrow neck of +land on the backs of mules. To-day the journey is more rapidly and +comfortably made in a railroad-car. Of the voyage on the Pacific +nothing need be said. The weather was fair, and it was uneventful.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful morning in early September when they came in sight +of the Golden Gate, and, entering the more placid waters of San +Francisco Bay, moored at a short distance from the town.</p> + +<p>“What do you think of it, Joe?” asked Charles Folsom.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe slowly. “Is this really San Francisco?”</p> + +<p>“It is really San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t seem to be much built up yet,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>In fact, the appearance of the town would hardly suggest the stately +capital of to-day, which looks out like a queen on the bay and the +ocean, and on either side opens her arms to the Eastern and Western +continents. It was a town of tents and one-story cabins, irregularly +and picturesquely scattered over the hillside, with here and there a +sawmill, where now stand some of the most prominent buildings of the +modern city. For years later there was a large mound of sand where +now the stately Palace Hotel covers two and a half acres. Where now +stand substantial business blocks, a quarter of a century since there +appeared only sandy beaches or mud-flats, with here and there a +wooden pier reaching out into the bay. Only five years before the +town contained but seventy-nine buildings—thirty-one frame, +twenty-six adobe, and the rest shanties. It had grown largely since +then, but even now was only a straggling village, with the air of +recent settlement.</p> + +<p>“You expected something more, Joe, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” admitted Joe.</p> + +<p>“You must remember how new it is. Ten years, nay, five, will work a +great change in this straggling village. We shall probably live to +see it a city of a hundred thousand inhabitants.”</p> + +<p>The passengers were eager to land. They were tired of the long +voyage and anxious to get on shore. They wanted to begin making +their fortunes.</p> + +<p>“What are your plans, Joe?” asked Charles Folsom.</p> + +<p>“I shall accept the first job that offers,” said Joe. “I can’t +afford to remain idle long with my small capital.”</p> + +<p>“Joe,” said the young man seriously, “let me increase your capital +for you. You can pay me back, you know, when it is convenient. +Here, take this gold piece.”</p> + +<p>Our young hero shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Mr. Folsom,” he said, “you are very kind, but I think it +will be better for me to shift on what I have. Then I shall have to +go to work at once, and shall get started in my new career.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose you can’t find work?” suggested Folsom.</p> + +<p>“I will find it,” said Joe resolutely.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps we might take lodgings together, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t afford it,” said Joe. “You’re a gentleman of property, and +I’m a poor boy who has his fortune to make. For the present I must +expect to rough it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Joe, perhaps you are right. At any rate, I admire your pluck +and independent spirit.”</p> + +<p>There was a motley crowd collected on the pier and on the beach when +Joe and his friend landed. Rough, bearded men, in Mexican sombreros +and coarse attire—many in shirt-sleeves and with their pantaloons +tucked in their boots—watched the new arrivals with interest.</p> + +<p>“You needn’t feel ashamed of your clothes, Joe,” said Folsom, with a +smile. “You are better dressed than the majority of those we see.”</p> + +<p>Joe looked puzzled.</p> + +<p>“They don’t look as if they had made their fortunes,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Don’t judge by appearances. In a new country people are careless of +appearances. Some of these rough fellows, no doubt, have their +pockets full of gold.”</p> + +<p>At this moment a rough-looking fellow stepped forward and said +heartily:</p> + +<p>“Isn’t this Charles Folsom?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Folsom, puzzled.</p> + +<p>“You don’t remember me?” said the other, laughing.</p> + +<p>“Not I.”</p> + +<p>“Not remember Harry Carter, your old chum?”</p> + +<p>“Good Heaven!” exclaimed Folsom, surveying anew the rough figure +before him. “You don’t mean to say you are Harry Carter?”</p> + +<p>“The same, at your service.”</p> + +<p>“What a transformation! Why, you used to be rather a swell and +now——”</p> + +<p>“Now I look like a barbarian.”</p> + +<p>“Well, rather,” said Folsom, laughing.</p> + +<p>“You want me to explain? Such toggery as I used to wear would be the +height of folly at the mines.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you have had good luck,” said Folsom.</p> + +<p>“Pretty fair,” said Carter, in a tone of satisfaction. “My pile has +reached five thousand dollars.”</p> + +<p>“And how long have you been at work?”</p> + +<p>“A year. I was a bookkeeper in New York on a salary of fifteen +hundred dollars a year. I used to spend all my income—the more fool +I—till the last six months, when I laid by enough to bring me out +here.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have really bettered yourself?”</p> + +<p>“I should say so. I could only save up five hundred dollars a year +at the best in New York. Here I have crowded ten years into one.”</p> + +<p>“In spite of your large outlay for clothes?”</p> + +<p>“I see you will have your joke. Now, what brings you out here? Are +you going to the mines?”</p> + +<p>“Presently, but not to dig. I came to survey the country.”</p> + +<p>“Let me do what I can for you.”</p> + +<p>“I will. First, what hotel shall I go to?”</p> + +<p>“There is the Leidesdorff House, on California Street. I’ll lead you +there.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Will you come, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will go to find out where it is.”</p> + +<p>The three bent their steps to the hotel referred to. It was a shanty +compared with the magnificent hotels which now open their portals to +strangers, but the charge was ten dollars a day and the fare was of +the plainest.</p> + +<p>“I guess I won’t stop here,” said Joe, “My money wouldn’t keep me +here more than an hour or two.”</p> + +<p>“At any rate, Joe, you must dine with me,” said Folsom. “Then you +may start out for yourself.”</p> + +<p>“You must dine with me, both of you,” said Carter.</p> + +<p>Folsom saw that he was in earnest, and accepted.</p> + +<p>The dinner was plain but abundant, and all three did justice to it. +Joe did not know till afterward that the dinner cost five dollars +apiece.</p> + +<p>After dinner the two friends sat down to talk over old times and +mutual friends, but Joe felt that there was no time for him to lose. +He had his fortune to make. Still more important, he had his living +to make, and in a place where dollars were held as cheap as dimes in +New York or Boston.</p> + +<p>So, emerging into the street, with his small bundle under his arm, he +bent his steps as chance directed.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br /> +JOE FINDS A JOB</h2> + +<p>Joe knew nothing about the streets or their names. Chance brought +him to Clay Street, between what is now Montgomery and Kearny +Streets. Outside of a low wooden building, which appeared to be a +restaurant, was a load of wood.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if I couldn’t get the chance to saw and split that wood?” +thought Joe.</p> + +<p>It would not do to be bashful. So he went in.</p> + +<p>A stout man in an apron was waiting on the guests. Joe concluded +that this must be the proprietor.</p> + +<p>“Sit down, boy,” said he, “if you want some dinner.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve had my dinner,” said Joe. “Don’t you want that wood outside +sawed and split?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Let me do it.”</p> + +<p>“Go ahead.”</p> + +<p>There was a saw and saw-horse outside. The work was not new to Joe, +and he went at it vigorously. No bargain had been made, but Joe knew +so little of what would be considered a fair price that in this first +instance he chose to leave it to his employer.</p> + +<p>As he was at work Folsom and his friend passed by.</p> + +<p>“Have you found a job already?” said Folsom.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You have kept your promise, Joe. You said you would take the first +job that offered.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Folsom; I meant what I said.”</p> + +<p>“Come round to the Leidesdorff House this evening and tell me how you +made out.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir, I will.”</p> + +<p>“That seems a smart boy,” said Carter.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he is. Help him along if you have a chance.”</p> + +<p>“I will. I like his pluck.”</p> + +<p>“He has no false pride. He is ready to do anything.”</p> + +<p>“Everybody is here. You know Jim Graves, who used to have his +shingle up as a lawyer on Nassau Street?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Is he here?”</p> + +<p>“He has been here three months. What do you think he is doing?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t guess.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you could. He has turned drayman.” Charles Folsom +gazed at his friend in wonder.</p> + +<p>“Turned drayman!” he exclaimed. “Is he reduced to that?”</p> + +<p>“Reduced to that! My dear fellow, you don’t understand the use of +language. Graves is earning fifteen dollars a day at his business, +and I don’t believe he made that in New York in a month.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it is a strange state of society. Does he mean to be a +drayman all his life?”</p> + +<p>“Of course not. A year hence he may be a capitalist, or a lawyer +again. Meanwhile he is saving money.”</p> + +<p>“He is a sensible man, after all; but, you see, Carter, it takes time +to adjust my ideas to things here. The first surprise was your rough +appearance.”</p> + +<p>“There is one advantage my rough life has brought me,” said Carter. +“It has improved my health. I was given to dyspepsia when I lived in +New York. Now I really believe I could digest a tenpenny nail, +or—an eating-house mince pie, which is more difficult.”</p> + +<p>“You have steep hills in San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is something of a climb to the top of Clay Street Hill. +When you get to the top you get a fine view, though.”</p> + +<p>Now the hill may be ascended in cars drawn up the steeply graded +sides by an endless rope running just below the surface. No such +arrangement had been thought of then. Folsom gave out when he had +completed half the ascent.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be satisfied with the prospect from here,” he said.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Joe kept steadily at his task.</p> + +<p>“It will take me three hours and a half, possibly four,” he said to +himself, after a survey of the pile. “I wonder what pay I shall +receive.”</p> + +<p>While thus employed many persons passed him.</p> + +<p>One among them paused and accosted him.</p> + +<p>“So you have found work already?” he said.</p> + +<p>Looking up, Joe recognized Harry Hogan, the man who had swindled him. +He didn’t feel inclined to be very social with this man.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said he coldly.</p> + +<p>“Rather strange work for a first-class passenger.”</p> + +<p>He envied Joe because he had traveled first-class, while he had +thought himself fortunate, with the help his dishonesty gave him, in +being able to come by steerage.</p> + +<p>“It is very suitable employment for a boy who has no money,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“How much are you going to be paid for the job?” asked Hogan, with +sudden interest, for ten dollars constituted his only remaining funds.</p> + +<p>If his theft on shipboard had not been detected he would have been +better provided.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe shortly.</p> + +<p>“You didn’t make any bargain, then?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do next?” inquired Hogan.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Hogan finally moved off.</p> + +<p>“I hate that boy,” he soliloquized. “He puts on airs for a country +boy. So he’s getting too proud to talk to me, is he? We’ll see, Mr. +Joseph Mason.”</p> + +<p>Joe kept on till his task was completed, put on his coat and went +into the restaurant.</p> + +<p>It was the supper-hour.</p> + +<p>“I’ve finished the job,” said Joe, in a businesslike tone.</p> + +<p>The German took a look at Joe’s work.</p> + +<p>“You did it up good,” he said. “How much you want?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. What would be a fair price?”</p> + +<p>“I will give you some supper and five dollars.”</p> + +<p>Joe could hardly believe his ears. Five dollars and a supper for +four hours’ work! Surely he had come to the Land of Gold in very +truth.</p> + +<p>“Will dat do?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said Joe. “I didn’t expect so much.”</p> + +<p>“You shouldn’t tell me dat. It isn’t business.”</p> + +<p>Joe pocketed the gold piece which he received with a thrill of +exultation. He had never received so much in value for a week’s work +before. Just then a man paid two dollars for a very plain supper.</p> + +<p>“That makes my pay seven dollars,” said Joe to himself. “If I can +get steady work, I can get rich very quick,” he thought.</p> + +<p>There was one thing, however, that Joe did not take into account. If +his earnings were likely to be large, his expenses would be large, +too. So he might receive a good deal of money and not lay up a cent.</p> + +<p>“Shall you have any more work to do?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not shoost now,” answered the German. “You can look round in a +week. Maybe I have some then.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII<br /> +JOE’S HOTEL</h2> + +<p>Before going to the Leidesdorff House to call upon his friend Folsom, +Joe thought he would try to make arrangements for the night.</p> + +<p>He came to the St. Francis Hotel, on the corner of Dupont and Clay +Streets. There was an outside stair that led to the balcony that ran +all round the second story. The doors of the rooms opened upon this +balcony.</p> + +<p>A man came out from the office.</p> + +<p>“Can I get lodging here?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“How much do you charge?”</p> + +<p>“Three dollars.”</p> + +<p>“He must take me for a millionaire,” thought Joe.</p> + +<p>“I can’t afford it,” he said.</p> + +<p>As Joe descended the stairs he did not feel quite so rich. Six +dollars won’t go far when lodging costs three dollars and supper two.</p> + +<p>Continuing his wanderings, Joe came to a tent, which seemed to be a +hotel in its way, for it had “Lodgings” inscribed on the canvas in +front.</p> + +<p>“What do you charge for lodgings?” Joe inquired.</p> + +<p>“A dollar,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>Looking in, Joe saw that the accommodations were of the plainest. +Thin pallets were spread about without pillows. Joe was not used to +luxury but to sleep here would be roughing it even for him. But he +was prepared to rough it, and concluded that he might as well pass +the night here.</p> + +<p>“All right!” said he. “I’ll be round by and by.”</p> + +<p>“Do you want to pay in advance to secure your bed?”</p> + +<p>“I guess not; I’ll take the risk.”</p> + +<p>Joe went on to the Leidesdorff Hotel and was cordially received by +Mr. Folsom.</p> + +<p>“How much have you earned to-day, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Five dollars and my supper.”</p> + +<p>“That’s good. Is the job finished?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“And you have nothing in view for to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; but I guess I shall run across a job.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going to spend the night?”</p> + +<p>“In a tent a little way down the street.”</p> + +<p>“How much will they charge you?”</p> + +<p>“One dollar.”</p> + +<p>“I wish my bed was large enough to hold two; you should be welcome to +a share of it. But they don’t provide very wide bedsteads in this +country.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Folsom’s bed was about eighteen inches wide.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir,” said Joe; “I shall do very well in the tent, I am +sure.”</p> + +<p>“I am thinking of making a trip to the mines with my friend Carter,” +continued Folsom. “Very likely we shall start to-morrow. Do you +want to go with us?”</p> + +<p>“I expect to go to the mines,” said Joe, “but I think I had better +remain awhile in San Francisco, and lay by a little money. You know +I am in debt.”</p> + +<p>“In debt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, for my passage. I should like to pay that off.”</p> + +<p>“There is no hurry about it, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to get it off my mind, Mr. Folsom.”</p> + +<p>About nine o’clock Joe left the hotel and sought the tent where he +proposed to pass the night. He was required to pay in advance, and +willingly did so.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV<br /> +JOE’S SECOND DAY</h2> + +<p>Joe woke up at seven o’clock the next morning. Though his bed was +hard, he slept well, for he was fatigued. He stretched himself and +sat up on his pallet. It is needless to say that he had not +undressed. Three or four men were lying near him, all fast asleep +except one, and that one he recognized as Henry Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Halloo!” said Hogan. “You here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joe, not overpleased at the meeting.</p> + +<p>“We seem to keep together,” said Hogan, with a grin.</p> + +<p>“So it seems,” said Joe coldly.</p> + +<p>Hogan, however, seemed disposed to be friendly.</p> + +<p>“Pretty rough accommodations for the money.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t make so much difference where money is earned easily.”</p> + +<p>“How much money did you make yesterday?”</p> + +<p>Joe’s first thought was to tell him it was none of his business, but +he thought better of it.</p> + +<p>“I made seven dollars,” said he, rather proudly.</p> + +<p>“Pretty good, but I beat you,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“How much did you make?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll show you.”</p> + +<p>Hogan showed five half-eagles.</p> + +<p>“I made it in ten minutes,” he said.</p> + +<p>Joe was decidedly mystified.</p> + +<p>“You are fooling me,” he said.</p> + +<p>“No, I am not. I made it at the gaming-table.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Joe, a little startled, for he had been brought up to +think gambling wicked.</p> + +<p>“Better come and try your luck with me,” said Hogan. “It is easier +and quicker than sawing wood.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is,” said Joe, “but I’d rather saw wood.”</p> + +<p>“I suspect you are a young Puritan.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I am,” said Joe. “At any rate, I don’t mean to gamble.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you like. I can’t afford to be so particular.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to be very particular,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” inquired Hogan suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“You know well enough,” said Joe. “You know the way you had of +getting money in New York. You know the way you tried to get it on +board the steamer.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, young fellow,” said Hogan menacingly, “I’ve heard enough +of this. You won’t find it safe to run against me. I’m a tough +customer, you’ll find.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t doubt it,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Then just be careful, will you? I ain’t going to have you slander +me and prejudice people against me, and I mean to protect myself. Do +you understand me?”</p> + +<p>“I think I do, Mr. Hogan, but I don’t feel particularly alarmed.”</p> + +<p>Joe got up and went out in search of breakfast. Be thought of the +place where he took supper but was deterred from going there by the +high prices.</p> + +<p>“I suppose I shall have to pay a dollar for my breakfast,” he +thought, “but I can’t afford to pay two. My capital is reduced to +five dollars and I may not be able to get anything to do to-day.”</p> + +<p>Joe finally succeeded in finding a humble place where for a dollar he +obtained a cup of coffee, a plate of cold meat, and as much bread as +he could eat.</p> + +<p>“I shall have to make it do with two meals a day,” thought our hero. +“Then it will cost me three dollars a day to live, including lodging, +and I shall have to be pretty lucky to make that.”</p> + +<p>After breakfast Joe walked about the streets, hoping that something +would turn up. But his luck did not seem to be so good as the day +before. Hour after hour passed and no chance offered itself. As he +was walking along feeling somewhat anxious, he met Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Lend me a dollar,” said Hogan quickly. “I’m dead broke.”</p> + +<p>“Where has all your money gone?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Lost it at faro. Lend me a dollar and I’ll win it all back.”</p> + +<p>“I have no money to spare,” said Joe decidedly.</p> + +<p>“Curse you for a young skinflint!” said Hogan, scowling. “I’ll get +even with you yet.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV<br /> +THE FOILED ASSASSIN</h2> + +<p>About four o’clock Joe went into a restaurant and got some dinner. +In spite of his wish to be economical, his dinner bill amounted to a +dollar and a half, and now his cash in hand was reduced to two +dollars and a half.</p> + +<p>Joe began to feel uneasy.</p> + +<p>“This won’t do,” he said to himself. “At this rate I shall soon be +penniless. I must get something to do.”</p> + +<p>In the evening he strolled down Montgomery Street to Telegraph Hill. +It was not a very choice locality, the only buildings being shabby +little dens, frequented by a class of social outlaws who kept +concealed during the day but came out at night—a class to which the +outrages frequent at this time were rightly attributed.</p> + +<p>Joe was stumbling along the uneven path, when all at once he found +himself confronted by a tall fellow wearing a slouched hat. The man +paused in front of him, but did not say a word. Finding that he was +not disposed to move aside, Joe stepped aside himself. He did not as +yet suspect the fellow’s purpose. He understood it, however, when a +heavy hand was laid on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Quick, boy, your money!” said the ruffian.</p> + +<p>Having but two dollars and a half, Joe naturally felt reluctant to +part with it, and this gave him the courage to object.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got none to spare,” he said and tried to tear himself away.</p> + +<p>His resistance led the fellow to suspect that he had a considerable +sum with him. Joe felt himself seized and carried into a den close +by, which was frequented by thieves and desperate characters.</p> + +<p>There was a counter, on which was set a dim oil-lamp. There were a +few bottles in sight, and a villainous-looking fellow appeared to +preside over the establishment. The latter looked up as Joe was +brought in.</p> + +<p>“Who have you there?” asked the barkeeper.</p> + +<p>“A young cove as don’t want to part with his money.”</p> + +<p>“You’d better hand over what you’ve got, young ’un.”</p> + +<p>Joe looked from one to the other and thought he had never seen such +villainous faces before.</p> + +<p>“What are you lookin’ at?” demanded his captor suspiciously, “You +want to know us again, do you? Maybe you’d like to get us hauled up, +would you?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want ever to set eyes on you again.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk. As soon as our business is over, there +ain’t no occasion for our meetin’ again. Don’t you go to point us +out, or——”</p> + +<p>He didn’t finish the sentence, but whipped out a long knife, which +made any further remarks unnecessary.</p> + +<p>Under the circumstances, resistance would be madness and Joe drew out +his money.</p> + +<p>“Is that all you’ve got?” demanded the thief.</p> + +<p>“Every cent,” said Joe. “It won’t leave me anything to pay for my +night’s lodging.”</p> + +<p>“Then you can sleep out. I’ve done it many a time. But I’ll take +the liberty of searching you, and seeing if you tell the truth or +not.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you like,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Joe was searched, but no more money was found.</p> + +<p>“The boy’s told the truth,” said his captor. “Two dollars and a half +is a pretty small haul.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry, gentlemen, that I haven’t anything more. It isn’t my +fault, for I’ve tried hard to get something to do to-day, and +couldn’t.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a cool customer,” said the barkeeper.</p> + +<p>“I expect to be to-night, for I shall have to sleep out.”</p> + +<p>“You can go,” said his captor, as he opened the door of the den; “and +don’t come round here again, unless you’ve got more money with you.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I shall,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>When Joe found himself penniless, he really felt less anxious than +when he had at least money enough to pay for lodging and breakfast. +Having lost everything, any turn of fortune must be for the better.</p> + +<p>“Something has got to turn up pretty quick,” thought Joe. “It’s just +as well I didn’t get a job to-day. I should only have had more money +to lose.”</p> + +<p>He had not walked a hundred feet when his attention was called to the +figure of a gentleman walking some rods in front of him. He saw it +but indistinctly, and would not have given it a second thought had he +not seen that the person, whoever he might be, was stealthily +followed by a man who in general appearance resembled the rascal who +had robbed him of his money. The pursuer carried in his hand a +canvas bag filled with sand. This, though Joe did not know it, was a +dangerous weapon in the hands of a lawless human. Brought down +heavily upon the head of an unlucky traveler, it often produced +instant death, without leaving any outward marks that would indicate +death from violence.</p> + +<p>Though Joe didn’t comprehend the use of the sand-bag, his own recent +experience and the stealthy movement of the man behind convinced him +that mischief was intended. He would have been excusable if, being +but a boy and no match for an able-bodied ruffian, he had got out of +the way. But Joe had more courage than falls to the share of most +boys of sixteen. He felt a chivalrous desire to rescue the +unsuspecting stranger from the peril that menaced him.</p> + +<p>Joe, too, imitating the stealthy motion of the pursuer, swiftly +gained upon him, overtaking him just as he had the sand-bag poised +aloft, ready to be brought down upon the head of the traveler.</p> + +<p>With a cry, Joe rushed upon the would-be assassin, causing him to +stumble and fall, while the gentleman in front turned round in +amazement.</p> + +<p>Joe sprang to his side.</p> + +<p>“Have you a pistol?” he said quickly.</p> + +<p>Scarcely knowing what he did, the gentleman drew out a pistol and put +it in Joe’s hand. Joe cocked it, and stood facing the ruffian.</p> + +<p>The desperado was on his feet, fury in his looks and a curse upon his +lips. He swung the sand-bag aloft.</p> + +<p>“Curse you!” he said. “I’ll make you pay for this!”</p> + +<p>“One step forward,” said Joe, in a clear, distinct voice, which +betrayed not a particle of fear, “and I will put a bullet through +your brain!”</p> + +<p>The assassin stepped back. He was a coward, who attacked from +behind. He looked in the boy’s resolute face, and he saw he was in +earnest.</p> + +<p>“Put down that weapon, you whipper-snapper!”</p> + +<p>“Not much!” answered Joe.</p> + +<p>“I’ve a great mind to kill you!”</p> + +<p>“I’ve no doubt of it,” said our hero; “but you’d better not attack +me. I am armed, and I will fire if you make it necessary. Now, turn +round and leave us.”</p> + +<p>“Will you promise not to shoot?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, if you go off quietly.”</p> + +<p>The order was obeyed, but not very willingly.</p> + +<p>When the highwayman had moved off, Joe said:</p> + +<p>“Now, sir, we’d better be moving, and pretty quickly, or the fellow +may return, with some of his friends, and overpower us. Where are +you stopping?”</p> + +<p>“At the Waverly House.”</p> + +<p>“That is near-by. We will go there at once.”</p> + +<p>They soon reached the hotel, a large wooden building on the north +side of Pacific Street.</p> + +<p>Joe was about to bid his acquaintance good night but the latter +detained him.</p> + +<p>“Come in, my boy,” he said. “You have done me a great service. I +must know more of you.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI<br /> +JOE’S NEW FRIEND</h2> + +<p>“Come up to my room,” said the stranger.</p> + +<p>He obtained a candle at the office, gas not being used in San +Francisco at that time, and led the way to a small chamber on the +second floor.</p> + +<p>“Now, sit down, my boy, and tell me your name.”</p> + +<p>“Joseph Mason.”</p> + +<p>“How long have you been here?”</p> + +<p>“Less than a week.”</p> + +<p>“I only arrived yesterday. But for your help, my residence might +have been a brief one.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad I have been able to be of service to you.”</p> + +<p>“You were a friend in need, and a friend in need is a friend indeed. +It is only fair that I should be a friend to you. It’s a poor rule +that doesn’t work both ways.”</p> + +<p>Joe was favorably impressed with the speaker’s appearance. He was a +man of middle height, rather stout, with a florid complexion, and an +open, friendly face.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir,” he said, “I need a friend, and shall be glad of +your friendship.”</p> + +<p>“Then here’s my hand. Take it, and let us ratify our friendship.”</p> + +<p>Joe took the proffered hand and shook it cordially.</p> + +<p>“My name is George Morgan,” said the stranger. “I came from +Philadelphia. Now we know each other. Where are you staying?”</p> + +<p>Joe’s face flushed and he looked embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“Just before I came up with you,” he answered, thinking frankness +best, “I was robbed of two dollars and a half, all the money I had in +this world. I shall have to stop in the streets to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Not if I know it,” said Morgan emphatically. “This bed isn’t very +large, but you are welcome to a share of it. To-morrow we will form +our plans.”</p> + +<p>“Shan’t I inconvenience you, sir?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not a bit,” answered Morgan heartily.</p> + +<p>“Then I will stay, sir, and thank you. After the adventure I have +had to-night, I shouldn’t enjoy being out in the streets.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me how you came to be robbed. Was it by the same man who made +the attack upon me?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I wish it had been, as then I should feel even with him. +It was a man that looked very much like him, though.”</p> + +<p>Joe gave an account of the robbery, to which his new friend listened +with attention.</p> + +<p>“Evidently,” he said, “the street we were in is not a very safe one. +Have you had any supper?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, sir. Luckily, I got that and paid for it before I had my +money taken.”</p> + +<p>“Good. Now, as I am tired, I will go to bed, and you can follow when +you feel inclined.”</p> + +<p>“I will go now, sir. I have been walking the streets all day, in +search of work, and, though I found none, I am tired, all the same.”</p> + +<p>They woke up at seven o’clock.</p> + +<p>“How did you rest, Joe?” asked George Morgan.</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Do you feel ready for breakfast?”</p> + +<p>“As soon as I can earn money enough to pay for it.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t trouble yourself about that. You are going to breakfast with +me.”</p> + +<p>“You are very kind, Mr. Morgan, but I wish you had some work for me +to do, so that I could pay you.”</p> + +<p>“That may come after awhile. It might not be safe to delay your +breakfast till you could pay for it. Remember, you have done me a +great service, which fifty breakfasts couldn’t pay for.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t think of that, Mr. Morgan,” said Joe modestly. “Anybody would +do what I did.”</p> + +<p>“I am not sure whether everybody would have the courage. But you +must leave me to show my appreciation of your services in my own way.”</p> + +<p>They took breakfast in the hotel and walked out.</p> + +<p>Though it was early, the town was already astir. People got up early +in those days. Building was going on here and there. Draymen were +piloting heavy loads through the streets—rough enough in general +appearance, but drawn from very unlikely social grades.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” said Morgan, in surprise, his glance resting on a young +man of twenty-five, who was in command of a dray. “Do you hear that +drayman?”</p> + +<p>“Is he a foreigner?” asked Joe. “I don’t understand what he is +saying.”</p> + +<p>“He is talking to his horse in Greek, quoting from Homer. Look here, +my friend!” he said, hailing the drayman.</p> + +<p>“What is it, sir?” said the young man courteously.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t I hear you quoting Greek just now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“How happens it that a classical scholar like you finds himself in +such a position?”</p> + +<p>The young man smiled.</p> + +<p>“How much do you think I am earning?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t guess. I am a stranger in this city.”</p> + +<p>“Twenty dollars a day.”</p> + +<p>“Capital! I don’t feel as much surprised as I did. Are you a +college graduate?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. I was graduated at Yale. Then I studied law and three +months since I came out here. It takes time to get into practise at +home and I had no resources to fall back upon. I raised money enough +to bring me to California and came near starving the first week I was +here. I couldn’t wait to get professional work, but I had an offer +to drive a dray. I am a farmer’s son and was accustomed to hard work +as a boy. I accepted the offer and here I am. I can lay up half my +earnings and am quite satisfied.”</p> + +<p>“But you won’t be a drayman all your life?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, sir. But I may as well keep at it till I can get into +something more to my taste.”</p> + +<p>And the young lawyer drove off.</p> + +<p>“It’s a queer country,” said Morgan. “It’s hard to gauge a man by +his occupation here, I see.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could get a dray to drive,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You are not old enough or strong enough yet. I am looking for some +business myself, Joe, but I can’t at all tell what I shall drift +into. At home I was a dry-goods merchant. My partner and I +disagreed and I sold out to him. I drew ten thousand dollars out of +the concern, invested four-fifths of it, and have come out here with +the remainder, to see what I can do.”</p> + +<p>“Ten thousand dollars! What a rich man you must be!” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“In your eyes, my boy. As you get older, you will find that it will +not seem so large to you. At any rate, I hope to increase it +considerably.”</p> + +<p>They were walking on Kearny Street, near California Street, when +Joe’s attention was drawn, to a sign:</p> + +<p class="center p1 p1bot fs120"><b>THIS RESTAURANT FOR SALE</b></p> + +<p>It was a one-story building, of small dimensions, not fashionable, +nor elegant in its appointments, but there wasn’t much style in San +Francisco at that time.</p> + +<p>“Would you like to buy out the restaurant?” asked Morgan.</p> + +<p>“I don’t feel like buying anything out with empty pockets,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Let us go in.”</p> + +<p>The proprietor was a man of middle age.</p> + +<p>“Why do you wish to sell out?” asked Morgan.</p> + +<p>“I want to go to the mines. I need an out-of-door life and want a +change.”</p> + +<p>“Does this business pay?”</p> + +<p>“Sometimes I have made seventy-five dollars profit in a day.”</p> + +<p>“How much do you ask for the business?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take five hundred dollars, cash.”</p> + +<p>“Have you a reliable cook?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. He knows his business.”</p> + +<p>“Will he stay?”</p> + +<p>“For the present. If you want a profitable business, you will do +well to buy.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want it for myself. I want it for this young man.”</p> + +<p>“For this boy?” asked the restaurant-keeper, surprised.</p> + +<p>Joe looked equally surprised.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII<br /> +JOE STARTS IN BUSINESS</h2> + +<p>“Do you think you can keep a hotel, Joe?” asked Morgan.</p> + +<p>“I can try,” said Joe promptly.</p> + +<p>“Come in, gentlemen,” said the restaurant-keeper.</p> + +<p>“We can talk best inside.”</p> + +<p>The room was small, holding but six tables. In the rear was the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>“Let me see your scale of prices,” said Morgan.</p> + +<p>It was shown him.</p> + +<p>“I could breakfast cheaper at Delmonico’s,” he said.</p> + +<p>“And better,” said the proprietor of the restaurant; “but I find +people here willing to pay big prices, and, as long as that’s the +case, I should be a fool to reduce them. Yes, there’s a splendid +profit to be made in the business. I ought to charge a thousand +dollars, instead of five hundred.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you?” asked Morgan bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Because I couldn’t get it. Most men, when they come out here, are +not content to settle down in the town. They won’t be satisfied till +they get to the mines.”</p> + +<p>“That seems to be the case with you, too.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t that altogether. My lungs are weak and confinement isn’t +good for me. Besides, the doctors say the climate in the interior is +better for pulmonary affections.”</p> + +<p>“What rent do you have to pay?”</p> + +<p>“A small ground-rent. I put up this building myself.”</p> + +<p>“How soon can you give possession?”</p> + +<p>“Right off.”</p> + +<p>“Will you stay here three days, to initiate my young friend into the +mysteries of the business?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; I’ll do that willingly.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will buy you out.”</p> + +<p>In five minutes the business was settled.</p> + +<p>“Joe,” said Morgan, “let me congratulate you. You are now one of the +business men of San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“It seems like a dream to me, Mr. Morgan,” said Joe. “This morning +when I waked up I wasn’t worth a cent.”</p> + +<p>“And now you own five hundred dollars,” said Mr. Morgan, laughing.</p> + +<p>“That wasn’t exactly the way I thought of it, sir, but are you not +afraid to trust me to that amount?”</p> + +<p>“No, I am not, Joe,” said Morgan seriously. “I think you are a boy +of energy and integrity. I don’t see why you shouldn’t succeed.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose I shouldn’t?”</p> + +<p>“I shall not trouble myself about the loss. In all probability, you +saved my life last evening. That is worth to me many times what I +have invested for you.”</p> + +<p>“I want to give you my note for the money,” said Joe. “If I live, I +will pay you, with interest.”</p> + +<p>“I agree with you. We may as well put it on a business basis.”</p> + +<p>Papers were drawn up, and Joe found himself proprietor of the +restaurant. He lost no opportunity of mastering the details of the +business. He learned where his predecessor obtained his supplies, +what prices he paid, about how much he required for a day’s +consumption, and what was his scale of prices.</p> + +<p>“Do you live here, Mr. Brock?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I have a bed, which I lay in a corner of the restaurant. Thus +I avoid the expense of a room outside, and am on hand early for +business.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do the same,” said Joe promptly.</p> + +<p>“In that way you will have no personal expenses, except clothing and +washing,” said Brock.</p> + +<p>“I shall be glad to have no bills to pay for board,” said Joe. +“That’s rather a steep item here.”</p> + +<p>“So it is.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see but I can save up pretty much all I make,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Certainly you can.”</p> + +<p>In two days Joe, who was naturally quick and whose natural shrewdness +was sharpened by his personal interest, mastered the details of the +business, and felt that he could manage alone.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Brock,” said he, “you promised to stay with me three days, but I +won’t insist upon the third day. I think I can get along well +without you.”</p> + +<p>“If you can, I shall be glad to leave you at once. The fact is, a +friend of mine starts for the mines to-morrow, and I would like to +accompany him. I asked him to put it off a day, but he thinks he +can’t.”</p> + +<p>“Go with him, by all means. I can get along.”</p> + +<p>So, on the morning of the third day, Joe found himself alone.</p> + +<p>At the end of the first week he made a careful estimate of his +expenses and receipts, and found, to his astonishment, that he had +cleared two hundred dollars. It seemed to him almost incredible, and +he went over the calculations again and again. But he could figure +out no other result.</p> + +<p>“Two hundred dollars in one week!” he said to himself. “What would +Oscar say to that? It seems like a fairy tale.”</p> + +<p>Joe did not forget that he was five hundred dollars In debt. He went +to George Morgan, who had bought out for himself a gentlemen’s +furnishing store, and said:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Morgan, I want to pay up a part of that debt.”</p> + +<p>“So soon, Joe? How much do you want to pay?”</p> + +<p>“A hundred and fifty dollars.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say that you have cleared that amount?” said +Morgan, in amazement.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, and fifty dollars more.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. I will receive the money. You do well to wipe out your +debts as soon as possible.”</p> + +<p>Joe paid over the money with no little satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Without going too much into detail, it may be stated that at the end +of a month Joe was out of debt and had three hundred dollars over. +He called on the owner of the land to pay the monthly ground-rent.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you buy the land, and get rid of the rent?” asked the +owner.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to sell?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I am about to return to the East.”</p> + +<p>“What do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“I own two adjoining lots. You may have them all for a thousand +dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Will you give me time?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t. I want to return at once, and I must have the cash.”</p> + +<p>A thought struck Joe.</p> + +<p>“I will take three hours to consider,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>He went to George Morgan and broached his business.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Morgan,” he said, “will you lend me seven hundred dollars?”</p> + +<p>“Are you getting into pecuniary difficulties, Joe?” asked Morgan, +concerned.</p> + +<p>“No, sir; but I want to buy some real estate.”</p> + +<p>“Explain yourself.”</p> + +<p>Joe did so.</p> + +<p>“It is the best thing you can do,” said Morgan, “I will lend you the +money.”</p> + +<p>“I hope to repay it inside of two months,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I think you will, judging from what you have done already.”</p> + +<p>In two hours Joe had paid over the entire amount, for it will be +remembered that he had three hundred dollars of his own, and was +owner of three city lots.</p> + +<p>“Now,” thought he, “I must attend to business, and clear off the debt +I have incurred. I shan’t feel as if the land is mine till I have +paid for it wholly.”</p> + +<p>Joe found it a great advantage that he obtained his own board and +lodging free. Though wages were high, the necessary expenses of +living were so large that a man earning five dollars a day was worse +off oftentimes than one who was earning two dollars at the East.</p> + +<p>“How shall I make my restaurant more attractive?” thought Joe.</p> + +<p>He decided first that he would buy good articles and insist upon as +much neatness as possible about the tables. At many of the +restaurants very little attention was paid to this, and visitors who +had been accustomed to neatness at home were repelled.</p> + +<p>Soon Joe’s dining-room acquired a reputation, and the patronage +increased. At the end of the third month he had not only paid up the +original loan of seven hundred dollars, but was the owner of the +three lots, and had four hundred dollars over. He began to feel that +his prosperity was founded on a solid basis.</p> + +<p>One day about this time, as he was at the desk where he received +money from his patrons as they went out, his attention was drawn to a +rough fellow, having the appearance of a tramp, entering at the door. +The man’s face seemed familiar to him, and it flashed upon him that +it was Henry Hogan, who had defrauded him in New York.</p> + +<p>The recognition was mutual.</p> + +<p>“You here?” he exclaimed, in surprise.</p> + +<p>“So it seems,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Is it a good place?”</p> + +<p>“I like it.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s your boss?”</p> + +<p>“Myself.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say this is your own place?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll be blowed!” ejaculated Hogan, staring stupidly at Joe.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> +MR. HOGAN’S PROPOSAL</h2> + +<p>Joe enjoyed Hogan’s amazement. He felt rather proud of his rapid +progress. It was not four months since, a poor, country boy, he had +come up to New York, and fallen a prey to a designing sharper. Now, +on the other side of the continent, he was master of a business and +owner of real estate.</p> + +<p>The day has passed for such rapid progress. California is no longer +a new country, and the conditions of living closely approximate those +in the East. I am careful to say this because I don’t wish to +mislead my young readers. Success is always attainable by pluck and +persistency, but the degree is dependent on circumstances.</p> + +<p>“How have you made out?” asked Joe of his visitor.</p> + +<p>“I’ve had hard luck,” grumbled Hogan, “I went to the mines, but I +wasn’t lucky.”</p> + +<p>“Was that the case with other miners?” asked Joe, who had a shrewd +suspicion that Hogan’s ill-luck was largely the result of his +laziness and want of application.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Hogan. “Other men around me were lucky, but I wasn’t.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps your claim was a poor one.”</p> + +<p>“It was, as long as I had anything to do with it,” said Hogan. “I +sold it out for a trifle and the next day the other man found a +nugget. Wasn’t that cursed hard?” he grumbled.</p> + +<p>“You ought to have kept on. Then you would have found the nugget.”</p> + +<p>“No, I shouldn’t. I am too unlucky. If I had held on, it wouldn’t +have been there. You’ve got on well. You’re lucky.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I have no reason to complain. But I wasn’t lucky all the time. +I was robbed of every cent of money, when I met a good friend, who +bought this business for me.”</p> + +<p>“Does it pay?” asked the other eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it pays,” said Joe cautiously.</p> + +<p>“How much do you make, say, in a week?” asked Hogan, leaning his +elbows on the counter and looking up in Joe’s face.</p> + +<p>“Really, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “I don’t feel called upon to tell my +business to others.”</p> + +<p>“I thought maybe you’d tell an old friend,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>Joe could not help laughing at the man’s matchless impudence.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you have treated me exactly like a friend, Mr. Hogan,” +he said. “You certainly did all you could to prevent my coming to +California.”</p> + +<p>“There’s some mistake about that,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“You’re under a misapprehension; but I won’t go into that matter now. +Will you trust me for my supper?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joe promptly. “Sit down at that table.”</p> + +<p>The man had treated him badly, but things had turned out favorably +for Joe, and he would not let Hogan suffer from hunger, if he could +relieve him.</p> + +<p>Hogan needed no second invitation. He took a seat at a table +near-by, and ate enough for two men, but Joe could not repeat the +invitation he had given. He felt that he could not afford it.</p> + +<p>It was rather late when Hogan sat down. When he finished, he was the +only one left in the restaurant, except Joe. He sauntered up to the +desk.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got a good cook,” said Hogan, picking his teeth with a knife.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” answered Joe. “I think so.”</p> + +<p>“You say the business pays well?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; it satisfies me.”</p> + +<p>“Are you alone? Have you no partner?”</p> + +<p>“You could do better with one. Suppose you take me into business +with you?”</p> + +<p>Joe was considerably surprised at this proposition from a man who had +swindled him.</p> + +<p>“How much capital can you furnish?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t got any money. I’m dead broke,” said Hogan, “but I can +give my services. I can wait on the table. I’ll do that, and you +can give me my board and one-third of the profits. Come, now, that’s +a good offer. What do you say?”</p> + +<p>Joe thought it best to be candid.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want any partner, Mr. Hogan,” he said; “and I may as well +tell you, I don’t think I should care to be associated with you if I +did.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to insult me?” asked Hogan, scowling.</p> + +<p>“No; but I may as well be candid.”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with me?” asked Hogan roughly.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like the way you do business,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Look here, young one, you put on too many airs just because you’re +keepin’ a one-horse restaurant,” said Hogan angrily.</p> + +<p>“If it’s a one-horse restaurant, why do you want to become my +partner?” retorted Joe coolly.</p> + +<p>“Because I’m hard up—I haven’t got a cent.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry for you; but a man needn’t be in that condition long here.”</p> + +<p>“Where do you sleep?” asked Hogan suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Here. I put a bed on the floor in one corner, and so am on hand in +the morning.”</p> + +<p>“I say,” Hogan continued insinuatingly, “won’t you let me stay here +to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Sleep here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I’d rather not, Mr. Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t a cent to pay for a lodging. If you don’t take me in, I +shall have to stay in the street all night.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve slept out at the mines, haven’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then you can do it here.”</p> + +<p>“You’re hard on a poor man,” whined Hogan. “It wouldn’t cost you +anything to let me sleep here.”</p> + +<p>“No, it wouldn’t,” said Joe; “but I prefer to choose my own company +at night.”</p> + +<p>“I may catch my death of cold,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“I hope not; but I don’t keep lodgings,” said Joe firmly.</p> + +<p>“You haven’t any feeling for an unlucky man.”</p> + +<p>“I have given you your supper, and not stinted you in any way. What +you ate would cost two dollars at my regular prices. I wasn’t called +to do it, for you never did me any service, and you are owing me +to-day fifty dollars, which you cheated me out of when I was a poor +boy. I won’t let you lodge here, but I will give you a breakfast in +the morning, if you choose to come round. Then you will be +strengthened for a day’s work, and can see what you can find to do.”</p> + +<p>Hogan saw that Joe was in earnest and walked out of the restaurant, +without a word.</p> + +<p>When Joe was about to close his doors for the night his attention was +drawn to a man who was sitting down on the ground, a few feet +distant, with his head buried between his two hands, in an attitude +expressive of despondency.</p> + +<p>Joe was warm-hearted and sympathetic, and, after a moment’s +hesitation, addressed the stranger.</p> + +<p>“Is anything the matter with you, sir?” he asked. “Don’t you feel +well?”</p> + +<p>The man addressed raised his head. He was a stout, strongly built +man, roughly dressed, but had a look which inspired confidence.</p> + +<p>“I may as well tell you, boy,” he answered, “though you can’t help +me. I’ve been a cursed fool, that’s what’s the matter.”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t mind telling me,” said Joe gently, “perhaps I can be of +service to you.”</p> + +<p>The man shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you can,” he said, “but I’ll tell you, for all that. +Yesterday I came up from the mines with two thousand dollars. I was +about a year getting it together, and to me it was a fortune. I’m a +shoemaker by occupation, and lived in a town in Massachusetts, where +I have a wife and two young children. I left them a year ago to go +to the mines. I did well, and the money I told you about would have +made us all comfortable, if I could only have got it home.”</p> + +<p>“Were you robbed of it?” asked Joe, remembering his own experience.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I was robbed of it, but not in the way you are thinking of. A +wily scoundrel induced me to enter a gambling-den, the Bella Union, +they call it. I wouldn’t play at first, but soon the fascination +seized me. I saw a man win a hundred dollars, and I thought I could +do the same, so I began, and won a little. Then I lost, and played +on to get my money back. In just an hour I was cleaned out of all I +had. Now I am penniless, and my poor family will suffer for my +folly.”</p> + +<p>He buried his face in his hands once more and, strong man as he was, +he wept aloud.</p> + +<p>“Have you had any supper, sir?” said Joe compassionately.</p> + +<p>“No; but I have no appetite.”</p> + +<p>“Have you any place to sleep?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Then I can offer you a supper and a night’s lodging. Don’t be +discouraged. In the morning we can talk the matter over, and see +what can be done.”</p> + +<p>The stranger rose and laid his hand on Joe’s arm.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know how it is,” he said, “but your words give me courage. +I believe you have saved my life. I have a revolver left and I had a +mind to blow my brains out.”</p> + +<p>“Would that have helped you or your family?”</p> + +<p>“No, boy. I was a fool to think of it. I’ll accept your offer, and +to-morrow I’ll see what I can do. You’re the best friend I’ve met +since I left home.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX<br /> +THE UNLUCKY MINER</h2> + +<p>Joe brought out some cold meat and bread and butter, and set it +before his guest.</p> + +<p>“The fire’s gone out,” he said, “or I would give you some tea. Here +is a glass of milk, if you like it.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, boy,” said his visitor. “Milk is good enough for +anybody. One thing I can say, I’ve steered clear of liquor. A +brother of mine was intemperate and that was a warning to me. I took +credit to myself for being a steady-going man, compared with many of +my acquaintances out at the mines. But it don’t do to boast. I’ve +done worse, perhaps. I’ve gambled away the provision I had made for +my poor family.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t take it too hard,” said Joe, in a tone of sympathy. “You know +how it is out here. Down to-day and up to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“It’ll take me a long time to get up to where I was,” said the other; +“but it’s my fault, and I must make the best of it.”</p> + +<p>Joe observed, with satisfaction, that his visitor was doing ample +justice to the supper spread before him. With a full stomach, he +would be likely to take more cheerful views of life and the future. +In this thought Joe proved to be correct.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t think I could eat anything,” said the miner, laying down +his knife and fork, twenty minutes later, “but I have made a hearty +supper, thanks to your kindness. Things look a little brighter to me +now. I’ve had a hard pullback, but all is not lost. I’ve got to +stay here a year or two longer, instead of going back by the next +steamer; but I must make up my mind to that. What is your name, boy?”</p> + +<p>“Joe Mason.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve been kind to me, and I won’t forget it. It doesn’t seem +likely I can return the favor, but I’ll do it if ever I can. Good +night to you.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” asked Joe, surprised, as the miner walked to +the door.</p> + +<p>“Out into the street.”</p> + +<p>“But where do you mean to pass the night?”</p> + +<p>“Where a man without money must—in the street.”</p> + +<p>“But you mustn’t do that.”</p> + +<p>“I shan’t mind it. I’ve slept out at the mines many a night.”</p> + +<p>“But won’t you find it more comfortable here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but I don’t want to intrude. You’ve given me a good supper and +that is all I can expect.”</p> + +<p>“He doesn’t seem much like Hogan,” thought Joe.</p> + +<p>“You are welcome to lodge here with me,” he said. “It will cost you +nothing and will be more comfortable for you.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know me, Joe,” said the miner. “How do you know but I may +get up in the night and rob you?”</p> + +<p>“You could, but I don’t think you will,” said Joe. “I am not at all +afraid of it. You look like an honest man.”</p> + +<p>The miner looked gratified.</p> + +<p>“You shan’t repent your confidence, Joe,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I’d rather starve than rob a good friend like you. But you mustn’t +trust everybody.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t,” said Joe. “I refused a man to-night—a man named Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“Hogan?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What does he look like?”</p> + +<p>Joe described him.</p> + +<p>“It’s the very man,” said the miner.</p> + +<p>“Do you know him, then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he was out at our diggings. Nobody liked him, or trusted him. +He was too lazy to work, but just loafed around, complaining of his +luck. One night I caught him in my tent, just going to rob me. I +warned him to leave the camp next day or I’d report him, and the boys +would have strung him up. That’s the way they treat thieves out +there.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t surprise me to hear it,” said Joe. “He robbed me of +fifty dollars in New York.”</p> + +<p>“He did? How was that?”</p> + +<p>Joe told the story.</p> + +<p>“The mean skunk!” ejaculated Watson—for this Joe found to be the +miner’s name. “It’s mean enough to rob a man, but to cheat a poor boy +out of all he has is a good deal meaner. And yet you gave him +supper?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. The man was hungry; I pitied him.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a better Christian than I am. I’d have let him go hungry.”</p> + +<p>Both Joe and the miner were weary and they soon retired, but not to +uninterrupted slumber. About midnight they were disturbed, as the +next chapter will show.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX<br /> +HOGAN MEETS A CONGENIAL SPIRIT</h2> + +<p>When Hogan left Joe’s presence he was far from feeling as grateful as +he ought for the kindness with which our hero had treated him. +Instead of feeling thankful for the bountiful supper, he was angry +because Joe had not permitted him to remain through the night. Had +he obtained this favor, he would have resented the refusal to take +him into partnership. There are some men who are always soliciting +favors, and demanding them as a right, and Hogan was one of them.</p> + +<p>Out in the street he paused a minute, undecided where to go. He had +no money, as he had truly said, or he would have been tempted to go +to a gambling-house, and risk it on a chance of making more.</p> + +<p>“Curse that boy!” he muttered, as he sauntered along in the direction +of Telegraph Hill. “Who’d have thought a green country clodhopper +would have gone up as he has, while an experienced man of the world +like me is out at the elbows and without a cent!”</p> + +<p>The more Hogan thought of this, the more indignant he became.</p> + +<p>He thrust both hands into his pantaloons pockets, and strode moodily +on.</p> + +<p>“I say it’s a cursed shame!” he muttered. “I never did have any +luck, that’s a fact. Just see how luck comes to some. With only a +dollar or two in his pocket, this Joe got trusted for a first-class +passage out here, while I had to come in the steerage. Then, again, +he meets some fool, who sets him up in business. Nobody ever +offered to set me up in business!” continued Hogan, feeling aggrieved +at Fortune for her partiality. “Nobody even offered to give me a +start in life. I have to work hard, and that’s all the good it does.”</p> + +<p>The fact was that Hogan had not done a whole day’s work for years. +But such men are very apt to deceive themselves and possibly he +imagined himself a hard-working man.</p> + +<p>“It’s disgusting to see the airs that boy puts on,” he continued to +soliloquize. “It’s nothing but luck. He can’t help getting on, with +everybody to help him. Why didn’t he let me sleep in his place +to-night? It wouldn’t have cost him a cent.”</p> + +<p>Then Hogan drifted off into calculations of how much money Joe was +making by his business. He knew the prices charged for meals and +that they afforded a large margin of profit.</p> + +<p>The more he thought of it, the more impressed he was with the extent +of Joe’s luck.</p> + +<p>“The boy must be making his fortune,” he said to himself. “Why, he +can’t help clearing from one to two hundred dollars a week—perhaps +more. It’s a money-making business, there’s no doubt of it. Why +couldn’t he take me in as partner? That would set me on my legs +again, and in time I’d be rich. I’d make him sell out, and get the +whole thing after awhile.”</p> + +<p>So Hogan persuaded himself into the conviction that Joe ought to have +accepted him as partner, though why this should be, since his only +claim rested on his successful attempt to defraud him in New York, it +would be difficult to conjecture.</p> + +<p>Sauntering slowly along, Hogan had reached the corner of Pacific +Street, then a dark and suspicious locality in the immediate +neighborhood of a number of low public houses of bad reputation. The +night was dark, for there was no moon.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he felt himself seized in a tight grip, while a low, stern +voice in his ear demanded:</p> + +<p>“Your money, and be quick about it!”</p> + +<p>Hogan was not a brave man, but this demand, in his impecunious +condition, instead of terrifying him, struck his sense of humor as an +exceedingly good joke.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got the wrong man!” he chuckled.</p> + +<p>“Stop your fooling, and hand over your money, quickly!” was the stern +rejoinder.</p> + +<p>“My dear friend,” said Hogan, “if you can find any money about me, +it’s more than I can do myself.”</p> + +<p>“Are you on the square?” demanded the other suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“Look at me, and see.”</p> + +<p>The highwayman took him at his word. Lighting a match, he surveyed +his captive.</p> + +<p>“You don’t look wealthy, that’s a fact,” he admitted. “Where are you +going?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. I haven’t got any money, nor any place to sleep.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’d better be leaving this place, or another mistake may be +made.”</p> + +<p>“Stop!” said Hogan, with a sudden thought. “Though I haven’t any +money, I can tell you where we can both find some.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Come in here, then, and come to business.”</p> + +<p>He led Hogan into a low shanty on Pacific Street, and, bidding him be +seated on a broken settee, waited for particulars.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI<br /> +READY FOR MISCHIEF</h2> + +<p>Though Hogan was a scamp in the superlative degree, the burly ruffian +who seated himself by his side looked the character much better. He +was not a man to beat about the bush. As he expressed it, he wanted +to come to business at once.</p> + +<p>“What’s your game, pard?” he demanded. “Out with it.”</p> + +<p>Hogan’s plan, as the reader has already surmised, was to break into +Joe’s restaurant and seize whatever money he might be found to have +on the premises. He recommended it earnestly, for two reasons. +First, a share of the money would be welcome; and, secondly, he would +be gratified to revenge himself upon the boy, whom he disliked +because he had injured him.</p> + +<p>Jack Rafferty listened in silence.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about it,” he said. “There’s a risk.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see any risk. We two ought to be a match for a boy.”</p> + +<p>“Of course we are. If we wasn’t I’d go hang myself up for a milksop. +Are you sure there’s no one else with him?”</p> + +<p>“Not a soul.”</p> + +<p>“That’s well, so far; but we might be seen from the outside.”</p> + +<p>“We can keep watch.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think the boy’s got much money about him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he’s making money hand over fist. He’s one of those mean chaps +that never spend a cent, but lay it all by. Bah!”</p> + +<p>So Hogan expressed his contempt for Joe’s frugality.</p> + +<p>“All the better for us. How much might there be now, do you think?”</p> + +<p>“Five hundred dollars, likely.”</p> + +<p>“That’s worth risking something for,” said Jack thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“We’ll share alike?” inquired Hogan anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Depends on how much you help about gettin’ the money,” said Jack +carelessly.</p> + +<p>Hogan, who was not very courageous, did not dare push the matter +though he would have liked a more definite assurance. However, he +had another motive besides the love of money, and was glad to have +the cooperation of Rafferty, though secretly afraid of his ruffianly +accomplice.</p> + +<p>It was agreed to wait till midnight. Till then both men threw +themselves down and slept.</p> + +<p>As the clock indicated midnight, Rafferty shook Hogan roughly.</p> + +<p>The latter sat up and gazed, in terrified bewilderment, at Jack, who +was leaning over him, forgetting for the moment the compact into +which he had entered.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>“It’s time we were about our business,” growled Jack.</p> + +<p>“It’s struck twelve.”</p> + +<p>“All right!” responded Hogan, who began to feel nervous, now that the +crisis was at hand.</p> + +<p>“Don’t sit rubbing your eyes, man, but get up.”</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you got a drop of something to brace me up?” asked Hogan +nervously.</p> + +<p>“What are you scared of, pard?” asked Rafferty contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” answered Hogan, “but I feel dry.”</p> + +<p>“All right. A drop of something will warm us both up.”</p> + +<p>Jack went behind the counter, and, selecting a bottle of rot-gut +whisky, poured out a stiff glassful apiece.</p> + +<p>“Drink it, pard,” he said.</p> + +<p>Hogan did so, nothing loath.</p> + +<p>“That’s the right sort,” he said, smacking his lips. “It’s warming +to the stomach.”</p> + +<p>So it was and a frequent indulgence in the vile liquid would probably +have burned his stomach and unfitted it for service. But the +momentary effect was stimulating, and inspired Hogan with a kind of +Dutch courage, which raised him in the opinion of his burly +confederate.</p> + +<p>“Push ahead, pard,” said he. “I’m on hand.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk,” said Rafferty approvingly. “If we’re +lucky, we’ll be richer before morning.”</p> + +<p>Through the dark streets, unlighted and murky, the two confederates +made their stealthy way, and in five minutes stood in front of Joe’s +restaurant.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII<br /> +CHECKMATED</h2> + +<p>Everything looked favorable for their plans. Of course, the +restaurant was perfectly dark, and the street was quite deserted.</p> + +<p>“How shall we get in?” asked Hogan of his more experienced accomplice.</p> + +<p>“No trouble—through the winder.”</p> + +<p>Rafferty had served an apprenticeship at the burglar’s trade, and was +not long in opening the front window. He had no light and could not +see that Joe had a companion. If he had discovered this, he would +have been more cautious.</p> + +<p>“Go in and get the money,” said he to Hogan.</p> + +<p>He thought it possible that Hogan might object, but the latter had a +reason for consenting. He thought he might obtain for himself the +lion’s share of the plunder, while, as to risk, there would be no one +but Joe to cope with, and Hogan knew that in physical strength he +must be more than a match for a boy of sixteen.</p> + +<p>“All right!” said Hogan. “You stay at the window and give the alarm +if we are seen.”</p> + +<p>Rafferty was prompted by a suspicion of Hogan’s good faith in the +proposal he made to him. His ready compliance lulled this suspicion, +and led him to reflect that, perhaps, he could do the work better +himself.</p> + +<p>“No,” said he. “I’ll go in and you keep watch at the winder.”</p> + +<p>“I’m willing to go in,” said Hogan, fearing that he would not get his +fair share of the plunder.</p> + +<p>“You stay where you are, pard!” said Rafferty, in a tone of command. +“I’ll manage this thing myself.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you say,” said Hogan, slightly disappointed.</p> + +<p>Rafferty clambered into the room, making as little noise as possible. +He stood still a moment, to accustom his eyes to the darkness. His +plan was to discover where Joe lay, wake him up, and force him, by +threats of instant death as the penalty for non-compliance, to +deliver up all the money he had in the restaurant.</p> + +<p>Now, it happened that Joe and his guest slept in opposite corners of +the room. Rafferty discovered Joe, but was entirely ignorant of the +presence of another person in the apartment.</p> + +<p>Joe waked on being rudely shaken.</p> + +<p>“Who is it?” he muttered drowsily.</p> + +<p>“Never mind who it is!” growled Jack in his ear. “It’s a man that’ll +kill you if you don’t give up all the money you’ve got about you!”</p> + +<p>Joe was fully awake now, and realized the situation. He felt +thankful that he was not alone, and it instantly flashed upon him +that Watson had a revolver. But Watson was asleep. To obtain time +to form a plan, he parleyed a little.</p> + +<p>“You want my money?” he asked, appearing to be confused.</p> + +<p>“Yes—and at once! Refuse, and I will kill you!”</p> + +<p>I won’t pretend to deny that Joe’s heart beat a little quicker than +its wont. He was thinking busily. How could he attract Watson’s +attention?</p> + +<p>“It’s pretty hard, but I suppose I must,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk.”</p> + +<p>“Let me get up and I’ll get it.”</p> + +<p>Joe spoke so naturally that Rafferty suspected nothing. He permitted +our hero to rise, supposing that he was going for the money he +demanded.</p> + +<p>Joe knew exactly where Watson lay and went over to him. He knelt +down and drew out the revolver from beneath his head, at the same +time pushing him, in the hope of arousing him. The push was +effectual. Watson was a man whose experience at the mines had taught +him to rouse at once. He just heard Joe say:</p> + +<p>“Hush!”</p> + +<p>“What are you so long about?” demanded Rafferty suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got a revolver,” said Joe unexpectedly; “and, if you don’t +leave the room, I’ll fire!”</p> + +<p>With an oath, Rafferty, who was no coward, sprang upon Joe, and it +would have gone hard with him but for Watson. The latter was now +broad awake. He seized Rafferty by the collar, and, dashing him +backward upon the floor, threw himself upon him.</p> + +<p>“Two can play at that game!” said he. “Light the candle, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Help, pard!” called Rafferty.</p> + +<p>But Hogan, on whom he called, suspecting how matters stood, was in +full flight.</p> + +<p>The candle was lighted, and in the struggling ruffian Joe recognized +the man who, three months before, had robbed him of his little all.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII<br /> +NOT WHOLLY BLACK</h2> + +<p>“I know this man, Mr. Watson,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Who is he?”</p> + +<p>“He is the same man who robbed me of my money one night about three +months ago—the one I told you of.”</p> + +<p>For the first time, Rafferty recognized Joe.</p> + +<p>“There wasn’t enough to make a fuss about,” he said. “There was only +two dollars and a half.”</p> + +<p>“It was all I had.”</p> + +<p>“Let me up!” said Rafferty, renewing his struggles.</p> + +<p>“Joe, have you got a rope?” asked Watson.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Bring it here, then. I can’t hold this man all night.”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do with me?” demanded Rafferty uneasily.</p> + +<p>“Tie you hand and foot till to-morrow morning and then deliver you +over to the authorities.”</p> + +<p>“No, you won’t!”</p> + +<p>He made a renewed struggle, but Watson was a man with muscles of +iron, and the attempt was unsuccessful.</p> + +<p>It was not without considerable difficulty, however, that the +midnight intruder was secured. When, at length, he was bound hand +and foot, Watson withdrew to a little distance. Joe and he looked at +Rafferty, and each felt that he had seldom seen a more brutal face.</p> + +<p>“Well,” growled Rafferty, “I hope you are satisfied?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” returned Watson. “When you are delivered into the hands +of the authorities we shall be satisfied.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, for an hour’s freedom!” muttered Jack Rafferty, expressing his +thoughts aloud.</p> + +<p>“What use would you make of it?” asked Watson, in a tone of curiosity.</p> + +<p>“I’d kill the man that led me into this trap!”</p> + +<p>Watson and Joe were surprised.</p> + +<p>“Was there such a man. Didn’t you come here alone?”</p> + +<p>“No; there was a man got me to come. Curse him, He told me I would +only find the boy here!”</p> + +<p>“What has become of him?”</p> + +<p>“He ran away, I reckon, instead of standing by me.”</p> + +<p>“Where was he?”</p> + +<p>“At the winder.”</p> + +<p>“Could it have been Hogan?” thought Joe.</p> + +<p>“I think I know the man,” said our hero. “I’ll describe the man I +mean and you can tell me if it was he.”</p> + +<p>He described Hogan as well as he could.</p> + +<p>“That’s the man,” said Rafferty. “I wouldn’t peach if he hadn’t +served me such a mean trick. What’s his name?”</p> + +<p>“His name is Hogan. He came over on the same steamer with me, after +robbing me of fifty dollars in New York. He has been at the mines, +but didn’t make out well. This very afternoon I gave him supper—all +he could eat—and charged him nothing for it. He repays me by +planning a robbery.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a mean skunk,” said Watson bluntly.</p> + +<p>“You’re right, stranger,” said Rafferty. “I’m a scamp myself, but +I’ll be blowed if I’d turn on a man that fed me when I was hungry.”</p> + +<p>The tones were gruff but the man was evidently sincere.</p> + +<p>“You’re better than you look,” said Watson, surprised to hear such a +sentiment from a man of such ruffianly appearance.</p> + +<p>Jack Rafferty laughed shortly.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t used to compliments,” he said, “and I expect I’m bad enough, +but I ain’t all bad. I won’t turn on my pal, unless he does it +first, and I ain’t mean enough to rob a man that’s done me a good +turn.”</p> + +<p>“No, you ain’t all bad,” said Watson. “It’s a pity you won’t make up +your mind to earn an honest living.”</p> + +<p>“Too late for that, I reckon. What do you think they’ll do with me?”</p> + +<p>In those days punishments were summary and severe. Watson knew it +and Joe had seen something of it. Our hero began to feel compassion +for the foiled burglar. He whispered in Watson’s ear. Watson +hesitated, but finally yielded.</p> + +<p>“Stranger,” said he, “the boy wants me to let you go.”</p> + +<p>“Does he?” inquired Rafferty, in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Yes. He is afraid it will go hard with you if we give you up.”</p> + +<p>“Likely it will,” muttered Rafferty, watching Watson’s face eagerly, +to see whether he favored Joe’s proposal.</p> + +<p>“Suppose we let you go—will you promise not to make another attempt +upon this place?”</p> + +<p>“What do you take me for? I’m not such a mean cuss as that.”</p> + +<p>“One thing more—you won’t kill this man that brought you here?”</p> + +<p>“If I knowed it wasn’t a trap he led me into. He told me there was +only the boy.”</p> + +<p>“He thought so. I don’t belong here. The boy let me sleep here out +of kindness. Hogan knew nothing of this. I didn’t come till after +he had left.”</p> + +<p>“That’s different,” said Rafferty; “but he shouldn’t have gone back +on me.”</p> + +<p>“He is a coward, probably.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you’re right,” said Rafferty contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“You promise, then?”</p> + +<p>“Not to kill him? Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then we’ll let you go.”</p> + +<p>Watson unloosed the bonds that confined the prisoner. Rafferty +raised himself to his full height and stretched his limbs.</p> + +<p>“There—I feel better,” he said. “You tied the rope pretty tight.”</p> + +<p>“I found it necessary,” said Watson, laughing. “Now, Joe, if you +will open the door, this gentleman will pass out.”</p> + +<p>Rafferty turned to Joe, as he was about to leave the restaurant.</p> + +<p>“Boy,” said he, “I won’t forget this. I ain’t much of a friend to +boast of, but I’m your friend. You’ve saved me from prison, and +worse, it’s likely; and, if you need help any time, send for me. If +I had that money I took from you I’d pay it back.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t need it,” said Joe. “I’ve been lucky, and am doing well. I +hope you’ll make up your mind to turn over a new leaf. If you do, +and are ever hard up for a meal, come to me, and you shall have it +without money and without price.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, boy,” said Rafferty. “I’ll remember it.”</p> + +<p>He strode out of the restaurant, and disappeared in the darkness.</p> + +<p>“Human nature’s a curious thing, Joe,” said Watson. “Who would have +expected to find any redeeming quality in such a man as that?”</p> + +<p>“I would sooner trust him than Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“So would I. Hogan is a mean scoundrel, who is not so much of a +ruffian as this man only because he is too much of a coward to be.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad we let him go,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I am not sure whether it was best, but I knew we should have to be +awake all night if we didn’t. He could have loosened the knots after +awhile. He won’t trouble you any more.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I felt as sure about Hogan,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Hogan is a coward. I advise you to keep a revolver constantly on +hand. He won’t dare to break in by himself.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The next morning, after breakfast, Watson prepared to go out in +search of work.</p> + +<p>“I must begin at the bottom of the ladder once more,” he said to Joe. +“It’s my own fault, and I won’t complain. But what a fool I have +been! I might have gone home by the next steamer if I hadn’t gambled +away all my hard earnings.”</p> + +<p>“What sort of work shall you try to get?”</p> + +<p>“Anything—I have no right to be particular. Anything that will pay +my expenses and give me a chance to lay by something for my family at +home.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Watson,” said Joe suddenly, “I’ve been thinking of something +that may suit you. Since I came to San Francisco I have never gone +outside. I would like to go to the mines.”</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t make as much as you do here.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not; but I have laid by some money and I would like to see +something of the country. Will you carry on the restaurant for me +for three months, if I give you your board and half of the profits?”</p> + +<p>“Will I? I should think myself very lucky to get the chance.”</p> + +<p>“Then you shall have the chance.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know that I can be trusted?” asked Watson.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t known you long,” said Joe, “but I feel confidence in your +honesty.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you’ll repent your confidence. When do you want to +go?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll stay here a few days, till you get used to the business, then I +will start.”</p> + +<p>“I was lucky to fall in with you,” said Watson. “I didn’t want to go +back to the mines and tell the boys what a fool I have been. I begin +to think there’s a chance for me yet.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV<br /> +MR. BICKFORD, OF PUMPKIN HOLLOW</h2> + +<p>It may be thought that Joe was rash in deciding to leave his business +in the hands of a man whose acquaintance he had made but twelve hours +previous. But in the early history of California friendships ripened +fast. There was more confidence between man and man, and I am +assured that even now, though the State is more settled and as far +advanced in civilization and refinement as any of her sister States +on the Atlantic coast, the people are bound together by more friendly +ties, and exhibit less of cold caution than at the East. At all +events, Joe never dreamed of distrusting his new acquaintance. A +common peril, successfully overcome, had doubtless something to do in +strengthening the bond between them.</p> + +<p>Joe went round to his friend Mr. Morgan and announced his intention.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think you will make money by your new plan, Joe,” said +Morgan.</p> + +<p>“I don’t expect to,” said Joe, “but I want to see the mines. If I +don’t succeed, I can come back to my business here.”</p> + +<p>“That is true. I should like very well to go, too.”</p> + +<p>“Why won’t you, Mr. Morgan?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot leave my business as readily as you can. Do you feel +confidence in this man whom you are leaving in charge?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. He has been unlucky, but I am sure he is honest.”</p> + +<p>“He will have considerable money belonging to you by the time you +return—that is, if you stay any length of time.”</p> + +<p>“I want to speak to you about that, Mr. Morgan. I have directed him +to make a statement to you once a month, and put in your hands what +money comes to me—if it won’t trouble you too much.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all, Joe. I shall be glad to be of service to you.”</p> + +<p>“If you meet with any good investment for the money while I am away, +I should like to have you act for me as you would for yourself.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Joe.”</p> + +<p>Joe learned from Watson that the latter had been mining on the Yuba +River, not far from the town of Marysville. He decided to go there, +although he might have found mines nearer the city. The next +question was, How should he get there, and should he go alone?</p> + +<p>About this time a long, lank Yankee walked into the restaurant, one +day, and, seating himself at a table, began to inspect the bill of +fare which Joe used to write up every morning. He looked +disappointed.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you find what you want?” inquired Joe.</p> + +<p>“No,” said the visitor. “I say, this is a queer country. I’ve been +hankerin’ arter a good dish of baked beans for a week, and ain’t +found any.”</p> + +<p>“We sometimes have them,” said Joe. “Come here at one o’clock, and +you shall be accommodated.”</p> + +<p>The stranger brightened up.</p> + +<p>“That’s the talk,” said he. “I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>“Have you just come out here?” asked Joe curiously.</p> + +<p>“A week ago.”</p> + +<p>“Are you a Southerner?” asked Joe demurely.</p> + +<p>“No, I guess not!” said the Yankee, with emphasis.</p> + +<p>“I was raised in Pumpkin Hollow, State of Maine. I was twenty-one +last first of April, but I ain’t no April fool, I tell you. Dad and +me carried on the farm till I began to hear tell of Californy. I’d +got about three hundred dollars saved up and I took it to come out +here.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose you’ve come out to make your fortune?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir-ee, that’s just what I come for.”</p> + +<p>“How have you succeeded so far?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve succeeded in spendin’ all my money, except fifty dollars. I +say, it costs a sight to eat and drink out here. I can’t afford to +take but one meal a day, and then I eat like all possessed.”</p> + +<p>“I should think you would, Mr.——”</p> + +<p>“Joshua Bickford—that’s my name when I’m to hum.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Bickford, what are your plans?”</p> + +<p>“I want to go out to the mines and dig gold. I guess I can dig as +well as anybody. I’ve had experience in diggin’ ever since I was ten +year old.”</p> + +<p>“Not digging gold, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“Diggin’ potatoes, and sich.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to the mines myself, Mr. Bickford. What do you say to +going along with me?”</p> + +<p>“I’m on hand. You know the way, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“We can find it, I have no doubt. I have never been there, but my +friend Mr. Watson is an experienced miner.”</p> + +<p>“How much gold did you dig?” asked Joshua bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Two thousand dollars,” answered Watson, not thinking it necessary to +add that he had parted with the money since at the gaming-table.</p> + +<p>“Two thousand dollars?” exclaimed Joshua, duly impressed. “That’s a +heap of money!”</p> + +<p>“Yes; it’s a pretty good pile.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to get that much. I know what I’d do.”</p> + +<p>“What would you do, Mr. Bickford?”</p> + +<p>“I’d go home and marry Sukey Smith, by gosh!”</p> + +<p>“Then I hope you’ll get the money, for Miss Smith’s sake.”</p> + +<p>“There’s a feller hangin’ round her,” said Joshua, “kinder +slick-lookin’, with his hair parted in the middle; he tends in the +dry-goods store; but, if I come home with two thousand dollars, +she’ll have me, I guess. Why, with two thousand dollars I can buy +the farm next to dad’s, with a house with five rooms into it, and a +good-sized barn. I guess Sukey wouldn’t say no to me then, but would +change her name to Bickford mighty sudden.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you will succeed in your plans, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Seems to me you’re kinder young to be out here,” said Bickford, +turning his attention to Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes; I am not quite old enough to think of marrying.”</p> + +<p>“Have you got money enough to get out to the mines?” asked Joshua +cautiously.</p> + +<p>“I think I can raise enough,” said Joe, smiling.</p> + +<p>“My young friend is the owner of this restaurant,” said Watson.</p> + +<p>“You don’t say! I thought you hired him.”</p> + +<p>“No. On the contrary, I am in his employ. I have agreed to run the +restaurant for him while he is at the mines.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say!” exclaimed Bickford, surveying our hero with +curiosity. “Have you made much money in this eating-house?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve done pretty well,” said Joe modestly. “I own the building and +the two adjoining lots.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say! How old be you?”</p> + +<p>“Sixteen.”</p> + +<p>“You must be all-fired smart!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about that, Mr. Bickford. I’ve been lucky and fallen +in with good friends.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I guess Californy’s the place to make money. I ain’t made any +yet, but I mean to. There wasn’t no chance to get ahead in Pumpkin +Hollow. I was workin’ for eight dollars a month and board.”</p> + +<p>“It would be a great while before you could save up money to buy a +farm out of that, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so.”</p> + +<p>“My experience was something like yours. Before I came out here I +was working on a farm.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!”</p> + +<p>“And I didn’t begin to get as much money as you. I was bound out to +a farmer for my board and clothes. The board was fair but the +clothes were few and poor.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say!”</p> + +<p>“I hope you will be as lucky as I have been.”</p> + +<p>“How much are you worth now?” asked Joshua curiously.</p> + +<p>“From one to two thousand dollars, I expect.”</p> + +<p>“Sho! I never did! How long have you been out here?”</p> + +<p>“Three months.”</p> + +<p>“Je-rusalem! That’s better than stayin’ to hum.”</p> + +<p>“I think so.”</p> + +<p>By this time Mr. Bickford had completed his breakfast and in an +anxious tone he inquired:</p> + +<p>“What’s the damage?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I won’t charge you anything, as you are going to be my traveling +companion,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“You’re a gentleman, by gosh!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford, in +unrestrained delight.</p> + +<p>“Come in at one o’clock and you shall have some of your favorite +beans and nothing to pay. Can you start for the mines to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I’ve got nothin’ to prepare.”</p> + +<p>“Take your meals here till we go.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m in luck,” said Bickford. “Victuals cost awful out here +and I haven’t had as much as I wanted to eat since I got here.”</p> + +<p>“Consider yourself my guest,” said Joe, “and eat all you want to.”</p> + +<p>It may be remarked that Mr. Bickford availed himself of our young +hero’s invitation, and during the next twenty-four hours stowed away +enough provisions to last an ordinary man for half a week.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXV<br /> +THE MAN FROM PIKE COUNTY</h2> + +<p>Four days later Joe and his Yankee friend, mounted on mustangs, were +riding through a cañon a hundred miles from San Francisco. It was +late in the afternoon, and the tall trees shaded the path on which +they were traveling. The air was unusually chilly and after the heat +of midday they felt it.</p> + +<p>“I don’t feel like campin’ out to-night,” said Bickford. “It’s too +cool.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think we shall find any hotels about here,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Don’t look like it. I’d like to be back in Pumpkin Hollow just for +to-night. How fur is it to the mines, do you calc’late?”</p> + +<p>“We are probably about half-way. We ought to reach the Yuba River +inside of a week.”</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Bickford’s mustang deliberately stopped and began to survey +the scenery calmly.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, you pesky critter?” demanded Joshua.</p> + +<p>The mustang turned his head and glanced composedly at the burden he +was carrying.</p> + +<p>“G’lang!” said Joshua, and he brought down his whip on the flanks of +the animal.</p> + +<p>It is not in mustang nature to submit to such an outrage without +expressing proper resentment. The animal threw up its hind legs, +lowering its head at the same time, and Joshua Bickford, describing a +sudden somersault, found himself sitting down on the ground a few +feet in front of his horse, not seriously injured, but considerably +bewildered.</p> + +<p>“By gosh!” he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to dismount, Mr. Bickford?” +asked Joe, his eyes twinkling with merriment.</p> + +<p>“Because I didn’t know it myself,” said Joshua, rising and rubbing +his jarred frame.</p> + +<p>The mustang did not offer to run away, but stood calmly surveying him +as if it had had nothing to do with his rider’s sudden dismounting.</p> + +<p>“Darn the critter! He looks just as if nothing had happened,” said +Joshua. “He served me a mean trick.”</p> + +<p>“It was a gentle hint that he was tired,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Darn the beast! I don’t like his hints,” said Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>He prepared to mount the animal, but the latter rose on its hind legs +and very clearly intimated that the proposal was not agreeable.</p> + +<p>“What’s got into the critter?” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“He wants to rest. Suppose we rest here for half-an-hour, while we +loosen check-rein and let the horses graze.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you say.”</p> + +<p>Joshua’s steed appeared pleased with the success of his little hint +and lost no time in availing himself of the freedom accorded him.</p> + +<p>“I wish I was safe at the mines,” said Joshua. “What would dad say +if he knowed where I was, right out here in the wilderness? It looks +as we might be the only human critters in the world. There ain’t no +house in sight, nor any signs of man’s ever bein’ here.”</p> + +<p>“So we can fancy how Adam felt when he was set down in Paradise,” +said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I guess he felt kinder lonely.”</p> + +<p>“Probably he did, till Eve came. He had Eve, and I have you for +company.”</p> + +<p>“I guess Eve wasn’t much like me,” said Joshua, with a grin.</p> + +<p>He was lying at full length on the greensward, looking awkward and +ungainly enough, but his countenance, homely as it was, looked honest +and trustworthy, and Joe preferred his company to that of many +possessed of more outward polish. He could not help smiling at Mr. +Bickford’s remark.</p> + +<p>“Probably Eve was not as robust as you are,” he replied, “I doubt if +she were as tall, either. But as to loneliness, it is better to be +lonely than to have some company.”</p> + +<p>“There ain’t no suspicious characters round, are there?” inquired +Joshua anxiously.</p> + +<p>“We are liable to meet them—men who have been unsuccessful at the +mines and who have become desperate in consequence, and others who +came out here to prey upon others. That’s what I hear.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think we shall meet any of the critters?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I hope not. They wouldn’t find it very profitable to attack us. We +haven’t much money.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t,” said Joshua. “I couldn’t have got to the mines if you +hadn’t lent me a few dollars.”</p> + +<p>“You have your animal. You can sell him for something.”</p> + +<p>“If he agrees to carry me so far,” said Mr. Bickford, gazing +doubtfully at the mustang, who was evidently enjoying his evening +repast.</p> + +<p>“Oh, a hearty meal will make him good-natured. That is the way it +acts with boys and men, and animals are not so very different.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you’re right,” said Joshua. “When I wanted to get a favor +out of dad, I always used to wait till the old man had got his belly +full. That made him kinder good-natured.”</p> + +<p>“I see you understand human nature, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I guess I do,” said Joshua complacently. “Great Jehoshaphat, who’s +that?”</p> + +<p>Joe raised his head and saw riding toward them a man who might have +sat for the photograph of a bandit without any alteration in his +countenance or apparel. He wore a red flannel shirt, pants of rough +cloth, a Mexican sombrero, had a bowie-knife stuck in his girdle, and +displayed a revolver rather ostentatiously. His hair, which he wore +long, was coarse and black, and he had a fierce mustache.</p> + +<p>“Is he a robber?” asked Joshua uneasily.</p> + +<p>“Even if he is,” said Joe, “we are two to one. I dare say he’s all +right, but keep your weapon ready.”</p> + +<p>Though Joe was but a boy and Bickford a full-grown man, from the +outset he had assumed the command of the party, and issued directions +which his older companion followed implicitly. The explanation is +that Joe had a mind of his own, and decided promptly what was best to +be done, while his long-limbed associate was duller witted and +undecided.</p> + +<p>Joe and Joshua maintained their sitting position till the stranger +was within a rod or two, when he hailed them.</p> + +<p>“How are ye, strangers?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Pretty comfortable,” said Joshua, reassured by his words. “How fare +you?”</p> + +<p>“You’re a Yank, ain’t you?” said the newcomer, disregarding Joshua’s +question.</p> + +<p>“I reckon so. Where might you hail from?”</p> + +<p>“I’m from Pike County, Missouri,” was the answer. “You’ve heard of +Pike, hain’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know as I have,” said Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>The stranger frowned.</p> + +<p>“You must have been born in the woods not to have heard of Pike +County,” he said. “The smartest fighters come from Pike. I kin whip +my weight in wildcats, am a match for a dozen Indians to onst, and +can tackle a lion without flinchin’.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!” said Joshua, considerably impressed.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you stop and rest with us?” said Joe politely.</p> + +<p>“I reckon I will,” said the Pike man, getting off his beast. “You +don’t happen to have a bottle of whisky with you, strangers?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>The newcomer looked disappointed.</p> + +<p>“I wish you had,” said he. “I feel as dry as a tinder-box. Where +might you be travelin’?”</p> + +<p>“We are bound for the mines on the Yuba River.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a long way off.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it’s four or five days’ ride.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been there, and I don’t like it. It’s too hard work for a +gentleman.”</p> + +<p>This was uttered in such a magnificent tone of disdain that Joe was +rather amused at the fellow. In his red shirt and coarse breeches, +and brown, not overclean skin, he certainly didn’t look much like a +gentleman in the conventional sense of that term.</p> + +<p>“It’s all well enough to be a gentleman if you’ve got money to fall +back on,” remarked Joshua sensibly.</p> + +<p>“Is that personal?” demanded the Pike County man, frowning and half +rising.</p> + +<p>“It’s personal to me,” said Joshua quietly.</p> + +<p>“I accept the apology,” said the newcomer, sinking back upon the turf.</p> + +<p>“I hain’t apologized, as I’m aware,” said Joshua, who was no craven.</p> + +<p>“You’d better not rile me, stranger,” said the Pike man fiercely. +“You don’t know me, you don’t. I’m a rip-tail roarer, I am. I +always kill a man who insults me.”</p> + +<p>“So do we,” said Joe quietly.</p> + +<p>The Pike County man looked at Joe in some surprise. He had expected +to frighten the boy with his bluster, but it didn’t seem to produce +the effect intended.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVI<br /> +A DESPERADO</h2> + +<p>Mr. Bickford also seemed a little surprised at Joe’s coolness. +Though not a coward in the face of danger, he had been somewhat +impressed by the fierce aspect of the man from Pike County, and +really looked upon him as a reckless daredevil who was afraid of +nothing. Joe judged him more truly. He decided that a man who +boasted so loudly was a sham. If he had talked less, he would have +feared him more.</p> + +<p>After his last bloodthirsty declaration the man from Pike County +temporarily subsided.</p> + +<p>He drew out from his pocket a greasy pack of cards, and after +skilfully shuffling them inquired:</p> + +<p>“What do you say, strangers, to a little game to pass away the time?”</p> + +<p>“I never played keards in my life,” said Joshua Bickford.</p> + +<p>“Where was you raised?” demanded the Pike man contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“Pumpkin Hollow, State o’ Maine,” said Joshua. “Dad’s an orthodox +deacon. He never let any of us play keards. I don’t know one from +t’other.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll learn you,” said the Pike man condescendingly. “Suppose we +have a game of poker?”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t that a gambling’ game?” inquired Joshua.</p> + +<p>“We always play for something,” said the Pike man. “It’s dern +foolishness playin’ for nothing. Shall we have a game?”</p> + +<p>He looked at Joe as he spoke.</p> + +<p>“I don’t care to play,” said our hero. “I don’t know much about +cards, and I don’t want to play for money.”</p> + +<p>“That’s dern foolishness,” said the stranger, whose object it was to +clean out his new friends, being an expert gambler.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is,” said Joe, “but I only speak for myself. Mr. +Bickford may feel differently.”</p> + +<p>“Will you take a hand, Bickford?” asked the Pike man, thinking it +possible that Joshua might have some money of which he could relieve +him.</p> + +<p>“You kin show me how to play if you want to,” said Joshua, “but I +won’t gamble any.”</p> + +<p>The Pike man put up his pack of cards in disgust.</p> + +<p>“Derned if I ever met sich fellers!” he said. “You’re Methodists, +ain’t you?”</p> + +<p>“We generally decline doing what we don’t want to do,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Look here, boy,” blustered the Pike man, “I reckon you don’t know +me. I’m from Pike County, Missouri, I am. I’m a rip-tail roarer, I +am. I kin whip my weight in wildcats.”</p> + +<p>“You told us that afore,” said Joshua placidly.</p> + +<p>“Derned if I don’t mean it, too!” exclaimed the Pike County man, with +a fierce frown. “Do you know how I served a man last week?”</p> + +<p>“No. Tell us, won’t you?” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“We was ridin’ together over in Alameda County. We’d met +permiscuous, like we’ve met to-day. I was tellin’ him how four b’ars +attacked me once, and I fit ’em all single-handed, when he laughed, +and said he reckoned I’d been drinkin’ and saw double. If he’d +knowed me better, he wouldn’t have done it.”</p> + +<p>“What did you do?” asked Joshua, interested.</p> + +<p>Joe, who was satisfied that the fellow was romancing, did not exhibit +any interest.</p> + +<p>“What did I do?” echoed the Pike County man fiercely. “I told him he +didn’t know the man he insulted. I told him I was from Pike County, +Missouri, and that I was a rip-tail roarer.”</p> + +<p>“And could whip your weight in wildcats,” suggested Joe.</p> + +<p>The Pike man appeared irritated.</p> + +<p>“Don’t interrupt me, boy,” he said. “It ain’t healthy.”</p> + +<p>“After you’d made them remarks what did you do?” inquired Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I told him he’d insulted me and must fight. I always do that.”</p> + +<p>“Did he fight?”</p> + +<p>“He had to.”</p> + +<p>“How did it come out?”</p> + +<p>“I shot him through the heart,” said the man from Pike County +fiercely. “His bones are bleaching in the valley where he fell.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>The Pike County man looked from one to the other to see what effect +had been produced by his blood-curdling narration. Joshua looked +rather perplexed, as if he didn’t quite know what to think, but Joe +seemed tranquil.</p> + +<p>“I think you said it happened last week,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“If I said so, it is so,” said the Pike man, who in truth did not +remember what time he had mentioned.</p> + +<p>“I don’t question that. I was only wondering how his bones could +begin to bleach so soon after he was killed.”</p> + +<p>“Just so,” said Joshua, to whom this difficulty had not presented +itself before.</p> + +<p>“Do you doubt my word, stranger?” exclaimed the Pike man, putting his +hand to his side and fingering his knife.</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” said Joe. “But I wanted to understand how it was.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t give no explanations,” said the Pike man haughtily, “and I +allow no man to doubt my word.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, my friend,” said Joshua, “ain’t you rather cantankerous?”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” demanded the other suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“No offense,” said Joshua, “but you take a feller up so we don’t know +exactly how to talk to you.”</p> + +<p>“I take no insults,” said the Pike man. “Insults must be washed out +in blood.”</p> + +<p>“Soap-suds is better than blood for washin’ purposes,” said Joshua +practically. “Seems to me you’re spoilin’ for a fight all the time.”</p> + +<p>“I allow I am,” said the Pike man, who regarded this as a compliment. +“I was brought up on fightin’. When I was a boy I could whip any boy +in school.”</p> + +<p>“That’s why they called you a rip-tail roarer, I guess,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“You’re right, stranger,” said the Pike man complacently.</p> + +<p>“What did you do when the teacher give you a lickin’?” asked Mr. +Bickford.</p> + +<p>“What did I do?” yelled the Pike County man, with a demoniac frown.</p> + +<p>“Exactly so.”</p> + +<p>“I shot him!” said the Pike man briefly.</p> + +<p>“Sho! How many teachers did you shoot when you was a boy?”</p> + +<p>“Only one. The rest heard of it and never dared touch me.”</p> + +<p>“So you could play hookey and cut up all you wanted to?”</p> + +<p>“You’re right, stranger.”</p> + +<p>“They didn’t manage that way at Pumpkin Hollow,” said Mr. Bickford. +“Boys ain’t quite so handy with shootin’-irons. When the master +flogged us we had to stand it.”</p> + +<p>“Were you afraid of him?” asked the Pike man disdainfully.</p> + +<p>“Well, I was,” Joshua admitted. “He was a big man with arms just +like flails, and the way he used to pound us was a caution.”</p> + +<p>“I’d have shot him in his tracks,” said the Pike man fiercely.</p> + +<p>“You’d have got a wallopin’ fust, I reckon,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to insult me?” demanded the Pike man.</p> + +<p>“Oh, lay down, and don’t be so cantankerous,” said Joshua. “You’re +allus thinkin’ of bein’ insulted.”</p> + +<p>“We may as well be going,” said Joe, who was thoroughly disgusted +with their new companion.</p> + +<p>“Just as you say, Joe,” said Joshua. “Here, you pesky critter, come +and let me mount you.”</p> + +<p>The mustang realized Joe’s prediction. After his hearty supper he +seemed to be quite tractable and permitted Mr. Bickford to mount him +without opposition.</p> + +<p>Joe also mounted his horse.</p> + +<p>“I’ll ride along with you if you’ve no objections,” said the Pike +man. “We kin camp together to-night.”</p> + +<p>So saying, he too mounted the sorry-looking steed which he had +recently dismounted.</p> + +<p>Joe was not hypocrite enough to say that he was welcome. He thought +it best to be candid.</p> + +<p>“If you are quite convinced that neither of us wishes to insult you,” +he said quietly, “you can join us. If you are bent on quarreling, +you had better ride on by yourself.”</p> + +<p>The Pike man frowned fiercely.</p> + +<p>“Boy,” he said, “I have shot a man for less than that.”</p> + +<p>“I carry a revolver,” said Joe quietly, “but I shan’t use it unless +it is necessary. If you are so easily offended, you’d better ride on +alone.”</p> + +<p>This the Pike man did not care to do.</p> + +<p>“You’re a strange boy,” he said, “but I reckon you’re on the square. +I’ll go along with you.”</p> + +<p>“I would rather you’d leave us,” thought Joe, but he merely said: +“Very well.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVII<br /> +TWO TRAGIC STORIES</h2> + +<p>They rode on for about an hour and a half. Joshua’s steed, placated +by his good supper, behaved very well. Their ride was still through +the cañon. Presently it became too dark for them to proceed.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t we gone about fur enough for to-night?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps we have,” answered Joe.</p> + +<p>“Here’s a good place to camp,” suggested the man from Pike County, +pointing to a small grove of trees to the right.</p> + +<p>“Very well; let us dismount,” said Joe. “I think we can pass the +night comfortably.”</p> + +<p>They dismounted, and tied their beasts together under one of the +trees. They then threw themselves down on a patch of greensward +near-by.</p> + +<p>“I’m gettin’ hungry,” said Joshua. “Ain’t you, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Bickford. We may as well take supper.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford produced a supper of cold, meat and bread, and placed it +between Joe and himself.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you share our supper?” said Joe to their companion.</p> + +<p>“Thank ye, stranger, I don’t mind if I do,” answered the Pike man, +with considerable alacrity. “My fodder give out this mornin’, and I +hain’t found any place to stock up.”</p> + +<p>He displayed such an appetite that Mr. Bickford regarded him with +anxiety. They had no more than sufficient for themselves, and the +prospect of such a boarder was truly alarming.</p> + +<p>“You have a healthy appetite, my friend,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I generally have,” said the Pike man. “You’d orter have some +whisky, strangers, to wash it down with.”</p> + +<p>“I’d rather have a good cup of coffee sweetened with ’lasses, sech as +marm makes to hum,” remarked Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>“Coffee is for children, whisky for strong men,” said the Roarer.</p> + +<p>“I prefer the coffee,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Are you temperance fellers?” inquired the Pike man contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“I am,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“And I, too,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Bah!” said the other disdainfully; “I’d as soon drink skim-milk. +Good whisky or brandy for me.”</p> + +<p>“I wish we was to your restaurant, Joe,” said Joshua. “I kinder +hanker after some good baked beans. Baked beans and brown bread are +scrumptious. Ever eat ’em, stranger?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the Pike man; “none of your Yankee truck for me.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you don’t know what’s good,” said Mr. Bickford. “What’s +your favorite vittles?”</p> + +<p>“Bacon and hominy, hoe-cakes and whisky.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Joshua, “it depends on the way a feller is brung up. I +go for baked beans and brown bread, and punkin pie—that’s +goloptious. Ever eat punkin pie, stranger?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Like it?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t lay much on it.”</p> + +<p>Supper was over and other subjects succeeded. The Pike County man +became social.</p> + +<p>“Strangers,” said he, “did you ever hear of the affair I had with +Jack Scott?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joshua. “Spin it off, will you?”</p> + +<p>“Jack and me used to be a heap together. We went huntin’ together, +camped out for weeks together, and was like two brothers. One day we +was ridin’ out, when a deer started up fifty rods ahead. We both +raised our guns and shot at him. There was only one bullet into him, +and I knowed that was mine.”</p> + +<p>“How did you know it?” inquired Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you get curious, stranger. I knowed it, and that was enough. +But Jack said it was his. ‘It’s my deer,’ he said, ‘for you missed +your shot.’ ‘Look here, Jack,’ said I, ‘you’re mistaken. You missed +it. Don’t you think I know my own bullet?’ ‘No, I don’t,’ said he. +‘Jack,’ said I calmly, ‘don’t talk that way. It’s dangerous.’ ‘Do +you think I’m afraid of you?’ he said, turning on me. ‘Jack,’ said +I, ‘don’t provoke me. I can whip my weight in wildcats.’ ‘You can’t +whip me,’ said he. That was too much for me to stand. I’m the +Rip-tail Roarer from Pike County, Missouri, and no man can insult me +and live. ‘Jack,’ said I, ‘we’ve been friends, but you’ve insulted +me, and it must be washed out in blood.’ Then I up with my we’pon and +shot him through the head.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I was sorry to do it, for he was my friend,” said the Pike County +man, “but he disputed my word, and the man that does that may as well +make his will if he’s got any property to leave.”</p> + +<p>Here the speaker looked to see what effect was produced upon his +listeners. Joe seemed indifferent. He saw through the fellow, and +did not credit a word he said. Joshua had been more credulous at +first, but he, too, began to understand the man from Pike County. +The idea occurred to him to pay him back in his own coin.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t the relatives make any fuss about it?” he inquired. “Didn’t +they arrest you for murder?”</p> + +<p>“They didn’t dare to,” said the Pike man proudly. “They knew me. +They knew I could whip my weight in wildcats and wouldn’t let no man +insult me.”</p> + +<p>“Did you leave the corpse lyin’ out under the trees?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I rode over to Jack’s brother and told him what I had done, and +where he’d find the body. He went and buried it.”</p> + +<p>“What about the deer?”</p> + +<p>“What deer?”</p> + +<p>“The deer you killed and your friend claimed?”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said the Pike man, with sudden recollection, “I told Jack’s +brother he might have it.”</p> + +<p>“Now, that was kinder handsome, considerin’ you’d killed your friend +on account of it.”</p> + +<p>“There ain’t nothin’ mean about me,” said the man from Pike County.</p> + +<p>“I see there ain’t,” said Mr. Bickford dryly. “It reminds me of a +little incident in my own life. I’ll tell you about it, if you +hain’t any objection.”</p> + +<p>“Go ahead. It’s your deal.”</p> + +<p>“You see, the summer I was eighteen, my cousin worked for dad hayin’ +time. He was a little older’n me, and he had a powerful appetite, +Bill had. If it wasn’t for that, he’d ’a’ been a nice feller enough, +but at the table he always wanted more than his share of wittles. +Now, that ain’t fair, no ways—think it is, stranger?”</p> + +<p>“No! Go ahead with your story.”</p> + +<p>“One day we sat down to dinner. Marm had made some apple-dumplin’ +that day, and ’twas good, you bet. Well, I see Bill a-eyin’ the +dumplin’ as he shoveled in the meat and pertaters, and I knowed he +meant to get more’n his share. Now, I’m fond of dumplin’ as well as +Bill, and I didn’t like it. Well, we was both helped and went to +eatin’. When I was half through I got up to pour out some water. +When I cum back to the table Bill had put away his plate, which he +had cleaned off, and was eatin’ my dumplin’.”</p> + +<p>“What did you say?” inquired the gentleman from Pike, interested.</p> + +<p>“I said: ‘Bill, you’re my cousin, but you’ve gone too fur.’ He +laffed, and we went into the field together to mow. He was just +startin’ on his swath when I cum behind him and cut his head clean +off with my scythe.”</p> + +<p>Joe had difficulty in suppressing his laughter, but Mr. Bickford +looked perfectly serious.</p> + +<p>“Why, that was butchery!” exclaimed the Pike man, startled. “Cut off +his head with a scythe?”</p> + +<p>“I hated to, bein’ as he was my cousin,” said Joshua, “but I couldn’t +have him cum any of them tricks on me. I don’t see as it’s any wuss +than shootin’ a man.”</p> + +<p>“What did you do with his body?” asked Joe, commanding his voice.</p> + +<p>“Bein’ as ’twas warm weather, I thought I’d better bury him at once.”</p> + +<p>“Were you arrested?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and tried for murder, but my lawyer proved that I was crazy +when I did it, and so I got off.”</p> + +<p>“Do such things often happen at the North?” asked the Pike County man.</p> + +<p>“Not so often as out here and down South, I guess,” said Joshua. +“It’s harder to get off. Sometimes a man gets hanged up North for +handlin’ his gun too careless.”</p> + +<p>“Did you ever kill anybody else?” asked the Pike man, eying Joshua +rather uneasily.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Mr. Bickford. “I shot one man in the leg and another in +the arm, but that warn’t anything serious.”</p> + +<p>It was hard to disbelieve Joshua, he spoke with such apparent +frankness and sincerity. The man from Pike County was evidently +puzzled, and told no more stories of his own prowess. Conversation, +died away, and presently all three were asleep.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVIII<br /> +THE EVENTS OF A NIGHT</h2> + +<p>The Pike County man was the first to fall asleep. Joe and Mr. +Bickford lay about a rod distant from him. When their new comrade’s +regular breathing, assured Joe that he was asleep, he said:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bickford, what do you think of this man who has joined us?”</p> + +<p>“I think he’s the biggest liar I ever set eyes on,” said Joshua +bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Then you don’t believe his stories?”</p> + +<p>“No—do you?”</p> + +<p>“I believe them as much as that yarn of yours about your Cousin +Bill,” returned Joe, laughing.</p> + +<p>“I wanted to give him as good as he sent. I didn’t want him to do +all the lyin’.”</p> + +<p>“And you a deacon’s son!” exclaimed Joe, in comic expostulation.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what the old man would have said if he’d heard me, or +Cousin Bill, either.”</p> + +<p>“Then one part is true—you have a Cousin Bill?”</p> + +<p>“That isn’t the only part that’s true; he did help me and dad hayin’.”</p> + +<p>“But his head is still safe on his shoulders?”</p> + +<p>“I hope so.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think we can find as much truth in the story of our friend +over yonder.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I. If there was a prize offered for tall lyin’ I guess he’d +stand a good chance to get it.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Joshua, fire-eater as he is, I suspect that he is a +coward.”</p> + +<p>“You do?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I have a mind to put him to the test.”</p> + +<p>“How will you do it?”</p> + +<p>“One day an old hunter came into my restaurant, and kept coming for a +week. He was once taken prisoner by the Indians, and remained in +their hands for three months. He taught me the Indian war-whoop, and +out of curiosity I practised it till I can do it pretty well.”</p> + +<p>“What’s your plan?”</p> + +<p>“To have you fire off your gun so as to wake him up. Then I will +give a loud war-whoop and see how it affects the gentleman from Pike +County.”</p> + +<p>“He may shoot us before he finds out the deception.”</p> + +<p>“It will be well first to remove his revolver to make all safe. I +wish you could give the war-whoop, too. It would make a louder +noise.”</p> + +<p>“How do you do it?”</p> + +<p>Joe explained.</p> + +<p>“I guess I can do it. You start it, and I’ll j’in in, just as I used +to do in singin’ at meetin’. I never could steer through a tune +straight by myself, but when the choir got to goin’, I helped ’em all +I could.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you can do it. Now let us make ready.”</p> + +<p>The Pike County man’s revolver was removed while he was unconsciously +sleeping. Then Joshua and our hero ensconced themselves behind +trees, and the Yankee fired his gun.</p> + +<p>The Pike man started up, still half asleep and wholly bewildered, +when within a rod of him he heard the dreadful war-whoop. Then +another more discordant voice took up the fearful cry. Joshua did +very well considering that it was his first attempt.</p> + +<p>Then the man from Pike County sprang to his feet. If it had been +daylight, his face would have been seen to wear a pale and scared +expression. It did not appear to occur to him to make a stand +against the savage foes who he felt convinced were near at hand. He +stood not on the order of going, but went at once. He quickly +unloosed his beast, sprang upon his back, and galloped away without +apparently giving a thought to the companions with whom he had camped +out.</p> + +<p>When he was out of hearing Joe and Bickford shouted with laughter.</p> + +<p>“You see I was right,” said Joe. “The man’s a coward.”</p> + +<p>“He seemed in a hurry to get away,” said Joshua dryly. “He’s the +biggest humbug out.”</p> + +<p>“I thought so as soon as he began to brag so much.”</p> + +<p>“I believed his yarns at first,” admitted Joshua. “I thought he was +rather a dangerous fellow to travel with.”</p> + +<p>“He looked like a desperado, certainly,” said Joe, “but appearances +are deceitful. It’s all swagger and no real courage.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what shall we do now, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Lie down again and go to sleep.”</p> + +<p>“The man’s gone off without his revolver.”</p> + +<p>“He’ll be back for it within a day or two. We shall be sure to fall +in with him again. I shan’t lose my sleep worrying about him.”</p> + +<p>The two threw themselves once more on the ground, and were soon fast +asleep.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Joe proved to be correct in his prediction concerning the +reappearance of their terrified companion.</p> + +<p>The next morning, when they were sitting at breakfast—that is, +sitting under a tree with their repast spread out on a paper between +them—the man from Pike County rode up. He looked haggard, as well +he might, not having ventured to sleep for fear of the Indians, and +his horse seemed weary and dragged out.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been?” asked Mr. Bickford innocently.</p> + +<p>“Chasin’ the Indians,” said the Rip-tail Roarer, swinging himself +from his saddle.</p> + +<p>“Sho! Be there any Indians about here?”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you hear them last night?” inquired the man from Pike.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Nor you?” turning to Joe.</p> + +<p>“I heard nothing of any Indians,” replied Joe truthfully.</p> + +<p>“Then all I can say is, strangers, that you sleep uncommon sound.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing wakes me up,” said Bickford. “What about them Indians? Did +you railly see any?”</p> + +<p>“I rather think I did,” said the man from Pike. “It couldn’t have +been much after midnight when I was aroused by their war-whoop. +Starting up, I saw twenty of the red devils riding through the cañon.”</p> + +<p>“Were you afraid?”</p> + +<p>“Afraid!” exclaimed the man from Pike contemptuously. “The Rip-tail +Roarer knows not fear. I can whip my weight in wildcats——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know you can,” interrupted Joshua. “You told us so +yesterday.”</p> + +<p>The man from Pike seemed rather annoyed at the interruption, but as +Mr. Bickford appeared to credit his statement he had no excuse for +quarreling.</p> + +<p>He proceeded.</p> + +<p>“Instantly I sprung to the back of my steed and gave them chase.”</p> + +<p>“Did they see you?”</p> + +<p>“They did.”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t they turn upon you? You said there were twenty of them.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” repeated the Pike man boastfully. “They were afraid. They +recognized me as the Rip-tail Roarer. They knew that I had sent more +than fifty Indians to the happy hunting-grounds, and alone as I was +they fled.”</p> + +<p>“Sho!”</p> + +<p>“Did you kill any of them?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“When I was some distance on my way I found I had left my revolver +behind. Did you find it, stranger?”</p> + +<p>“There it is,” said Joshua, who had replaced it on the ground close +to where the Pike man had slept.</p> + +<p>He took it with satisfaction and replaced it in his girdle.</p> + +<p>“Then you didn’t kill any?”</p> + +<p>“No, but I drove them away. They won’t trouble you any more.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a comfort,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Now, strangers, if you’ve got any breakfast to spare, I think I +could eat some.”</p> + +<p>“Set up, old man,” said Mr. Bickford, with his mouth full.</p> + +<p>The man from Pike did full justice to the meal. Then he asked his +two companions, as a favor, not to start for two hours, during which +he lay down and rested.</p> + +<p>The three kept together that day, but did not accomplish as much +distance as usual, chiefly because of the condition of their +companion’s horse.</p> + +<p>At night they camped out again. In the morning an unpleasant +surprise awaited them. Their companion had disappeared, taking with +him Joshua’s horse and leaving instead his own sorry nag. That was +not all. He had carried off their bag of provisions, and morning +found them destitute of food, with a hearty appetite and many miles +away, as they judged, from any settlement.</p> + +<p>“The mean skunk!” said Joshua. “He’s cleaned us out. What shall we +do?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Joe seriously.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIX<br /> +JOHN CHINAMAN</h2> + +<p>The two friends felt themselves to be in a serious strait. The +exchange of horses was annoying, but it would only lengthen their +journey a little. The loss of their whole stock of provisions could +not so readily be made up.</p> + +<p>“I feel holler,” said Joshua. “I never could do much before +breakfast. I wish I’d eat more supper. I would have done it, only I +was afraid, by the way that skunk pitched into ’em, we wouldn’t have +enough to last.”</p> + +<p>“You only saved them for him, it seems,” said Joe. “He has certainly +made a poor return for our kindness.”</p> + +<p>“If I could only wring his neck, I wouldn’t feel quite so hungry,” +said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Or cut his head off with a scythe,” suggested Joe, smiling faintly.</p> + +<p>“Danged if I wouldn’t do it,” said Mr. Bickford, hunger making him +bloodthirsty.</p> + +<p>“We may overtake him, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“You may, Joe, but I can’t. He’s left me his horse, which is clean +tuckered out, and never was any great shakes to begin with. I don’t +believe I can get ten miles out of him from now till sunset.”</p> + +<p>“We must keep together, no matter how slow we go. It won’t do for us +to be parted.”</p> + +<p>“We shall starve together likely enough,” said Joshua mournfully.</p> + +<p>“I’ve heard that the French eat horse-flesh. If it comes to the +worst, we can kill your horse and try a horse-steak.”</p> + +<p>“It’s all he’s fit for, and he ain’t fit for that. We’ll move on for +a couple of hours and see if somethin’ won’t turn up. I tell you, +Joe, I’d give all the money I’ve got for some of marm’s johnny-cakes. +It makes me feel hungrier whenever I think of ’em.”</p> + +<p>“I sympathize with you, Joshua,” said Joe. “We may as well be movin’ +on, as you suggest. We may come to some cabin, or party of +travelers.”</p> + +<p>So they mounted their beasts and started. Joe went ahead, for his +animal was much better than the sorry nag which Mr. Bickford +bestrode. The latter walked along with an air of dejection, as if +life were a burden to him.</p> + +<p>“If I had this critter at home, Joe, I’ll tell you what I’d do with +him,” said Mr. Bickford, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“Well, what would you do with him?”</p> + +<p>“I’d sell him to a sexton. He’d be a first-class animal to go to +funerals. No danger of his runnin’ away with the hearse.”</p> + +<p>“You are not so hungry but you can joke, Joshua.”</p> + +<p>“It’s no joke,” returned Mr. Bickford. “If we don’t raise a supply +of provisions soon, I shall have to attend my own funeral. My mind +keeps running on them johnny-cakes.”</p> + +<p>They rode on rather soberly, for the exercise and the fresh morning +air increased their appetites, which were keen when they started.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford no longer felt like joking, and Joe at every step looked +anxiously around him, in the hope of espying relief.</p> + +<p>On a sudden, Mr. Bickford rose in his stirrups and exclaimed in a +tone of excitement:</p> + +<p>“I see a cabin!”</p> + +<p>“Where?”</p> + +<p>“Yonder,” said the Yankee, pointing to a one-story shanty, perhaps a +quarter of a mile away.</p> + +<p>“Is it inhabited, I wonder?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. Let us go and see.”</p> + +<p>The two spurred their horses, and at length reached the rude building +which had inspired them with hope. The door was open, but no one was +visible.</p> + +<p>Joshua was off his horse in a twinkling and peered in.</p> + +<p>“Hooray!” he shouted in rejoicing accents. “Breakfast’s ready.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I mean that I’ve found something to eat.”</p> + +<p>On a rude table was an earthen platter full of boiled rice and a +stale loaf beside it.</p> + +<p>“Pitch in, Joe,” said Joshua. “I’m as hungry as a wolf.”</p> + +<p>“This food belongs to somebody. I suppose we have no right to it.”</p> + +<p>“Right be hanged. A starving man has a right to eat whatever he can +find.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose it belongs to a fire-eater, or a man from Pike County?”</p> + +<p>“We’ll eat first and fight afterward.”</p> + +<p>Joe did not feel like arguing the matter. There was an advocate +within him which forcibly emphasized Joshua’s arguments, and he +joined in the banquet.</p> + +<p>“This bread is dry as a chip,” said Mr. Bickford. “But no matter. I +never thought dry bread would taste so good. I always thought rice +was mean vittles, but it goes to the right place just now.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder if any one will have to go hungry on our account?” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I hope not, but I can’t help it,” returned Mr. Bickford. +“Necessity’s the fust law of nature, Joe. I feel twice as strong as +I did twenty minutes ago.”</p> + +<p>“There’s nothing like a full stomach, Joshua. I wonder to whom we +are indebted for this repast?”</p> + +<p>Joe was not long in having his query answered. An exclamation, as of +one startled, called the attention of the two friends to the doorway, +where, with a terrified face, stood a Chinaman, his broad face +indicating alarm.</p> + +<p>“It’s a heathen Chinee, by gosh!” exclaimed Joshua.</p> + +<p>Even at that time Chinese immigrants had begun to arrive in San +Francisco, and the sight was not wholly new either to Joshua or Joe.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, John,” said our young hero pleasantly.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, heathen,” said Mr. Bickford. “We thought we’d come +round and make you a mornin’ call. Is your family well?”</p> + +<p>The Chinaman was reassured by the friendly tone of his visitors, and +ventured to step in. He at once saw that the food which he had +prepared for himself had disappeared.</p> + +<p>“Melican man eat John’s dinner,” he remarked in a tone of +disappointment.</p> + +<p>“So we have, John,” said Mr. Bickford. “The fact is, we were +hungry—hadn’t had any breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose Melican man eat—he pay,” said the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” said Joe; “we are willing to pay. How much do +you want?”</p> + +<p>The Chinaman named his price, which was not unreasonable, and it was +cheerfully paid.</p> + +<p>“Have you got some more bread and rice, John?” asked Mr. Bickford. +“We’d like to buy some and take it along.”</p> + +<p>They succeeded in purchasing a small supply—enough with economy to +last a day or two. This was felt as a decided relief. In two days +they might fall in with another party of miners or come across a +settlement.</p> + +<p>They ascertained on inquiry that the Chinaman and another of his +nationality had come out like themselves to search for gold. They +had a claim at a short distance from which they had obtained a small +supply of gold. The cabin they had found in its present condition. +It had been erected and deserted the previous year by a party of +white miners, who were not so easily satisfied as the two Chinamen.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Joshua, after they had started on their way, “that’s the +first time I ever dined at a Chinee hotel.”</p> + +<p>“We were lucky in coming across it,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“The poor fellow looked frightened when he saw us gobblin’ up his +provisions,” said Mr. Bickford, laughing at the recollection.</p> + +<p>“But we left him pretty well satisfied. We didn’t treat him as the +gentleman from Pike treated us.”</p> + +<p>“No—I wouldn’t be so mean as that darned skunk. It makes me mad +whenever I look at this consumptive hoss he’s left behind.”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t make much out of that horse trade, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t, but I’ll get even with him some time if we ever meet +again.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know where he was bound?”</p> + +<p>“No—he didn’t say.”</p> + +<p>“I dare say it’ll all come right in the end. At any rate, we shan’t +starve for the next forty-eight hours.”</p> + +<p>So in better spirits the two companions kept on their way.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXX<br /> +ON THE YUBA RIVER</h2> + +<p>On the following day Joe and his comrade fell in with a party of men +who, like themselves, were on their way to the Yuba River. They were +permitted to join them, and made an arrangement for a share of the +provisions. This removed all anxiety and insured their reaching +their destination without further adventure.</p> + +<p>The banks of the Yuba presented a busy and picturesque appearance. +On the banks was a line of men roughly clad, earnestly engaged in +scooping out gravel and pouring it into a rough cradle, called a +rocker. This was rocked from side to side until the particles of +gold, if there were any, settled at the bottom and were picked out +and gathered into bags. At the present time there are improved +methods of separating gold from the earth, but the rocker is still +employed by Chinese miners.</p> + +<p>In the background were tents and rude cabins, and there was the +unfailing accessory of a large mining-camp, the gambling tent, where +the banker, like a wily spider, lay in wait to appropriate the +hard-earned dust of the successful miner.</p> + +<p>Joe and his friend took their station a few rods from the river and +gazed at the scene before them.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe, “the time has come when we are to try +our luck.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Joshua. “Looks curious, doesn’t it? If I didn’t know, +I’d think them chaps fools, stoopin’ over there and siftin’ mud. It +’minds me of when I was a boy and used to make dirt pies.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose we take a day and look round a little. Then we can find out +about how things are done, and work to better advantage.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you say, Joe, I must go to work soon, for I hain’t nary red.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll stand by you, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a fust-rate feller, Joe. You seem to know just what to do.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t so long since I was a greenhorn and allowed myself to be +taken in by Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve cut your eye-teeth since then.”</p> + +<p>“I have had some experience of the world, but I may get taken in +again.”</p> + +<p>Joe and his friend found the miners social and very ready to give +them information.</p> + +<p>“How much do I make a day?” said one in answer to a question from +Joshua. “Well, it varies. Sometimes I make ten dollars, and from +that all the way up to twenty-five. Once I found a piece worth fifty +dollars. I was in luck then.”</p> + +<p>“I should say you were,” said Mr. Bickford. “The idea of findin’ +fifty dollars in the river. It looks kind of strange, don’t it, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Are any larger pieces ever found here?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“I have seen larger nuggets on exhibition in San Francisco, worth +several hundred dollars. Are any such to be found here?”</p> + +<p>“Generally they come from the dry diggings. We don’t often find such +specimens in the river washings. But these are more reliable.”</p> + +<p>“Can a man save money here?”</p> + +<p>“If he’ll be careful of what he gets. But much of our dust goes +there.”</p> + +<p>He pointed, as he spoke, to a small cabin, used as a store and +gambling den at one and the same time. There in the evening the +miners collected, and by faro, poker, or monte managed to lose all +that they had washed out during the day.</p> + +<p>“That’s the curse of our mining settlement,” said their informant. +“But for the temptations which the gaming-house offers, many whom you +see working here would now be on their way home with a comfortable +provision for their families. I never go there, but then I am in the +minority.”</p> + +<p>“What did you used to do when you was to hum?” inquired Joshua, who +was by nature curious and had no scruples about gratifying his +curiosity.</p> + +<p>“I used to keep school winters. In the spring and summer I assisted +my father on his farm down in Maine.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say you’re from Maine? Why, I’m from Maine myself,” +remarked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Indeed! Whereabouts in Maine did you live?”</p> + +<p>“Pumpkin Hollow.”</p> + +<p>“I kept school in Pumpkin Hollow one winter.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t say so? What is your name?” inquired Joshua earnestly.</p> + +<p>“John Kellogg.”</p> + +<p>“I thought so!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford, excited.</p> + +<p>“Why, I used to go to school to you, Mr. Kellogg.”</p> + +<p>“It is nine years ago, and you must have changed so much that I +cannot call you to mind.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you remember a tall, slab-sided youngster of thirteen, that +used to stick pins into your chair for you to set on?”</p> + +<p>Kellogg smiled.</p> + +<p>“Surely you are not Joshua Bickford?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am. I am that same identical chap.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad to see you, Mr. Bickford,” said his old school-teacher, +grasping Joshua’s hand cordially.</p> + +<p>“It seems kinder queer for you to call me Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“I wasn’t so ceremonious in the old times,” said Kellogg.</p> + +<p>“No, I guess not. You’d say, ‘Come here, Joshua,’ and you’d jerk me +out of my seat by the collar. ‘Did you stick that pin in my chair?’ +That’s the way you used to talk. And then you’d give me an all-fired +lickin’.”</p> + +<p>Overcome by the mirthful recollections, Joshua burst into an +explosive fit of laughter, in which presently he was joined by Joe +and his old teacher.</p> + +<p>“I hope you’ve forgiven me for those whippings, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“They were jest what I needed, Mr. Kellogg. I was a lazy young +rascal, as full of mischief as a nut is of meat. You tanned my hide +well.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to be any the worse for it now.”</p> + +<p>“I guess not. I’m pretty tough. I say, Mr. Kellogg,” continued +Joshua, with a grin, “you’d find it a harder job to give me a lickin’ +now than you did then.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t undertake it now. I am afraid you could handle me.”</p> + +<p>“It seems cur’us, don’t it, Joe?” said Joshua. “When Mr. Kellogg +used to haul me round the schoolroom, it didn’t seem as if I could +ever be a match for him.”</p> + +<p>“We change with the passing years,” said Kellogg, in a moralizing +tone, which recalled his former vocation. “Now you are a man, and we +meet here on the other side of the continent, on the banks of the +Yuba River. I hope we are destined to be successful.”</p> + +<p>“I hope so, too,” said Joshua, “for I’m reg’larly cleaned out.”</p> + +<p>“If I can help you any in the way of information, I shall be glad to +do so.”</p> + +<p>Joe and Bickford took him at his word and made many inquiries, +eliciting important information.</p> + +<p>The next day they took their places farther down the river and +commenced work.</p> + +<p>Their inexperience at first put them at a disadvantage. They were +awkward and unskilful, as might have been expected. Still, at the +end of the first day each had made about five dollars.</p> + +<p>“That’s something,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“If I could have made five dollars in one day in Pumpkin Hollow,” +said Mr. Bickford, “I would have felt like a rich man. Here it costs +a feller so much to live that he don’t think much of it.”</p> + +<p>“We shall improve as we go along. Wait till to-morrow night.”</p> + +<p>The second day brought each about twelve dollars, and Joshua felt +elated.</p> + +<p>“I’m gettin’ the hang of it,” said he. “As soon as I’ve paid up what +I owe you, I’ll begin to lay by somethin’.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want you to pay me till you are worth five hundred dollars, +Mr. Bickford. The sum is small, and I don’t need it.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Joe. You’re a good friend. I’ll stick by you if you +ever want help.”</p> + +<p>In the evening the camp presented a lively appearance.</p> + +<p>When it was chilly, logs would be brought from the woods, and a +bright fire would be lighted, around which the miners would sit and +talk of home and their personal adventures and experiences. One +evening Mr. Bickford and Joe were returning from a walk, when, as +they approached the camp-fire, they heard a voice that sounded +familiar, and caught these words:</p> + +<p>“I’m from Pike County, Missouri, gentlemen. They call me the +Rip-tail Roarer. I can whip my weight in wildcats.”</p> + +<p>“By gosh!” exclaimed Joshua, “if it ain’t that skunk from Pike. I +mean to tackle him.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXI<br /> +JUDGE LYNCH PRONOUNCES SENTENCE</h2> + +<p>The gentleman from Pike was sitting on a log, surrounded by miners, +to whom he was relating his marvelous exploits. The number of +Indians, grizzly bears, and enemies generally, which, according to +his account, he had overcome and made way with, was simply enormous. +Hercules was nothing to him. It can hardly be said that his +listeners credited his stories. They had seen enough of life to be +pretty good judges of human nature, and regarded them as romances +which served to while away the time.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me, my friend,” said Kellogg, who, it will be +remembered, had been a schoolmaster, “that you are a modern Hercules.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s he?” demanded the Pike man suspiciously, for he had never +heard of the gentleman referred to.</p> + +<p>“He was a great hero of antiquity,” exclaimed Kellogg, “who did many +wonderful feats.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right, then,” said the Pike man. “If you’re friendly, +then I’m friendly. But if any man insults me he’ll find he’s tackled +the wrong man. I can whip my weight in wildcats——”</p> + +<p>Here he was subjected to an interruption.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford could no longer suppress his indignation when at a +little distance he saw his mustang, which this treacherous braggart +had robbed him of, quietly feeding.</p> + +<p>“Look here, old Rip-tail, or whatever you call yourself, I’ve got an +account to settle with you.”</p> + +<p>The Pike man started as he heard Mr. Bickford’s voice, which, being +of a peculiar nasal character, he instantly recognized. He felt that +the meeting was an awkward one, and he would willingly have avoided +it. He decided to bluff Joshua off if possible, and, as the best way +of doing it, to continue his game of brag.</p> + +<p>“Who dares to speak to me thus?” he demanded with a heavy frown, +looking in the opposite direction. “Who insults the Rip-tail Roarer?”</p> + +<p>“Look this way if you want to see him,” said Joshua. “Put on your +specs if your eyes ain’t good.”</p> + +<p>The man from Pike could no longer evade looking at his late comrade. +He pretended not to know him.</p> + +<p>“Stranger,” said he, with one hand on the handle of his knife, “are +you tired of life?”</p> + +<p>“I am neither tired of life nor afraid of you,” said Joshua manfully.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know me, or——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do. You’re the man that says he can whip his weight in +wildcats. I don’t believe you dare to face your weight in tame cats.”</p> + +<p>“Sdeath!” roared the bully. “Do you want to die on the spot?”</p> + +<p>“Not particularly, old Rip-tail. Don’t talk sech nonsense. I’ll +trouble you to tell me why you stole my horse on the way out here.”</p> + +<p>“Let me get at him,” said the Pike man in a terrible voice, but not +offering to get up from the log.</p> + +<p>“Nobody henders your gettin’ at me,” said Mr. Bickford composedly. +“But that ain’t answerin’ my question.”</p> + +<p>“If I didn’t respect them two gentlemen too much, I’d shoot you where +you stand,” said the Pike man.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got a shootin’-iron myself, old Rip-tail, and I’m goin’ to use +it if necessary.”</p> + +<p>“What have you to say in answer to this man’s charge?” asked one of +the miners, a large man who was looked upon as the leader of the +company. “He charges you with taking his horse.”</p> + +<p>“He lies!” said the man from Pike.</p> + +<p>“Be keerful, old Rip-tail,” said Mr. Bickford in a warning tone. “I +don’t take sass any more than you do.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t steal your horse.”</p> + +<p>“No, you didn’t exactly steal it, but you took it without leave and +left your own bag of bones in his place. But that wasn’t so bad as +stealin’ all our provisions and leavin’ us without a bite, out in the +wilderness. That’s what I call tarnation mean.”</p> + +<p>“What have you to say to these charges?” asked the mining leader +gravely.</p> + +<p>“Say? I say that man is mistaken. I never saw him before in my +life.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s cheeky,” said Joshua, aghast at the man’s impudence. +“Why, I know you as well as if we’d been to school together. You are +the Rip-tail Roarer. You are from Pike County, Missouri, you are. +You can whip your weight in wildcats. That’s he, gentlemen. I leave +it to you.”</p> + +<p>In giving the description, Joshua imitated the boastful accents of +his old comrade with such success that the assembled miners laughed +and applauded.</p> + +<p>“That’s he! You’ve got him!” they cried.</p> + +<p>“Just hear that, old Rip-tail,” said Mr. Bickford. “You see these +gentlemen here believe me and they don’t believe you.”</p> + +<p>“There’s a man in this here country that looks like me,” said the +Pike man, with a lame excuse. “You’ve met him, likely.”</p> + +<p>“That won’t go down, old Rip-tail. There ain’t but one man can whip +his weight in wildcats and tell the all-firedest yarns out. That’s +you, and there ain’t no gettin’ round it.”</p> + +<p>“This is a plot, gentlemen,” said the man from Pike, glancing +uneasily at the faces around him, in which he read disbelief of his +statements. “My word is as good as his.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe it is,” said Mr. Bickford. “I’ll call another witness. Joe, +jest tell our friends here what you know about the gentleman from +Pike. If I’m lyin’, say so, and I’ll subside and never say another +word about it.”</p> + +<p>“All that my friend Bickford says is perfectly true,” said Joe +modestly. “This man partook of our hospitality and then repaid us by +going off early one morning when we were still asleep, carrying off +all our provisions and exchanging his own worn-out horse for my +friend’s mustang, which was a much better animal.”</p> + +<p>The man from Pike had not at first seen Joe. His countenance fell +when he saw how Mr. Bickford’s case was strengthened, and for the +moment he could not think of a word to say.</p> + +<p>“You are sure this is the man, Joe?” asked, the leader of the miners.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will swear to it. He is not a man whom it is easy to +mistake.”</p> + +<p>“I believe you. Gentlemen,” turning to the miners who were sitting +or standing about him, “do you believe this stranger or our two +friends?”</p> + +<p>The reply was emphatic, and the man from Pike saw that he was +condemned.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen,” he said, rising, “you are mistaken, and I am the victim +of a plot. It isn’t pleasant to stay where I am suspected, and I’ll +bid you good evening.”</p> + +<p>“Not so fast!” said the leader, putting his hand heavily on his +shoulder. “You deserve to be punished, and you shall be. Friends, +what shall we do with him?”</p> + +<p>“Kill him! String him up!” shouted some.</p> + +<p>The Rip-tail Roarer’s swarthy face grew pale as he heard these +ominous words. He knew something of the wild, stern justice of those +days. He knew that more than one for an offense like his had +expiated his crime with his life.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me,” said the leader, “that the man he injured should +fix the penalty. Say you so?”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye!” shouted the miners.</p> + +<p>“Will you two,” turning to Joe and Bickford, “decide what shall be +done with this man? Shall we string him up?”</p> + +<p>The Pike man’s nerve gave way.</p> + +<p>He flung himself on his knees before Joshua and cried:</p> + +<p>“Mercy! mercy! Don’t let them hang me!”</p> + +<p>Joshua was not hard-hearted. He consulted with Joe and then said:</p> + +<p>“I don’t want the critter’s life. If there was any wildcats round, +I’d like to see him tackle his weight in ’em, as he says he can. As +there isn’t, let him be tied on the old nag he put off on me, with +his head to the horse’s tail, supplied with one day’s provisions, and +then turned loose!”</p> + +<p>This sentence was received with loud applause and laughter.</p> + +<p>The horse was still in camp and was at once brought out. The man +from Pike was securely tied on as directed, and then the poor beast +was belabored with whips till he started off at the top of his speed, +which his old owner, on account of his reversed position, was unable +to regulate. He was followed by shouts and jeers from the miners, +who enjoyed this act of retributive justice.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Bickford, you are avenged,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“So I am, Joe. I’m glad I’ve got my hoss back; but I can’t help +pityin’ poor old Rip-tail, after all. I don’t believe he ever killed +a wildcat in his life.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXII<br /> +TAKING ACCOUNT OF STOCK</h2> + +<p>Three months passed. They were not eventful. The days were spent in +steady and monotonous work; the nights were passed around the +camp-fire, telling and hearing stories and talking of home. Most of +their companions gambled and drank, but Mr. Bickford and Joe kept +clear of these pitfalls.</p> + +<p>“Come, man, drink with me,” more than once one of his comrades said +to Joshua.</p> + +<p>“No, thank you,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Why not? Ain’t I good enough?” asked the other, half offended.</p> + +<p>“You mean I’m puttin’ on airs ’cause I won’t drink with you? No, +sir-ree. There isn’t a man I’d drink with sooner than with you.”</p> + +<p>“Come up, then, old fellow. What’ll you take?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take a sandwich, if you insist on it.”</p> + +<p>“That’s vittles. What’ll you drink?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing but water. That’s strong enough for me.”</p> + +<p>“Danged if I don’t believe you’re a minister in disguise.”</p> + +<p>“I guess I’d make a cur’us preacher,” said Joshua, with a comical +twist of his features. “You wouldn’t want to hear me preach more’n +once.”</p> + +<p>In this way our friend Mr. Bickford managed to evade the hospitable +invitations of his comrades and still retain their good-will—not +always an easy thing to achieve in those times.</p> + +<p>Joe was equally positive in declining to drink, but it was easier for +him to escape. Even the most confirmed drinkers felt it to be wrong +to coax a boy to drink against his will.</p> + +<p>There was still another—Kellogg—who steadfastly adhered to cold +water, or tea and coffee, as a beverage. These three were dubbed by +their companions the “Cold-Water Brigade,” and accepted the +designation good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>“Joshua,” said Joe, some three months after their arrival, “have you +taken account of stock lately?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Joshua, “but I’ll do it now.”</p> + +<p>After a brief time he announced the result.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got about five hundred dollars, or thereabouts,” he said.</p> + +<p>“You have done a little better than I have.”</p> + +<p>“How much have you?”</p> + +<p>“About four hundred and fifty.”</p> + +<p>“I owe you twenty-five dollars, Joe. That’ll make us even.”</p> + +<p>Joshua was about to transfer twenty-five dollars to Joe, when the +latter stayed his hand.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be in a hurry, Mr. Bickford,” he said. “Wait till we get to +the city.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Joe,” said Joshua, in a tone of satisfaction, “I am +richer than I was when I sot out from home?”</p> + +<p>“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Bickford. You have worked hard, and +deserve your luck.”</p> + +<p>“I had only three hundred dollars then; now I’ve got four hundred and +seventy-five, takin’ out what I owe you.”</p> + +<p>“You needn’t take it out at all.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve done enough for me, Joe. I don’t want you to give me that +debt.”</p> + +<p>“Remember, Joshua, I have got a business in the city paying me money +all the time. I expect my share of the profits will be more than I +have earned out here.”</p> + +<p>“That’s good. I wish I’d got a business like you. You’d be all +right even if you only get enough to pay expenses here.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so.”</p> + +<p>“I am getting rather tired of this place, Mr. Bickford,” said Joe, +after a little pause.</p> + +<p>“You don’t think of going back to the city?” asked Joshua +apprehensively.</p> + +<p>“Not directly, but I think I should like to see a little more of +California. These are not the only diggings.”</p> + +<p>“Where do you want to go?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t considered yet. The main thing is, will you go with me?”</p> + +<p>“We won’t part company, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Good! Then I’ll inquire, and see what I can find out about other +places. This pays fairly, but there is little chance of getting +nuggets of any size hereabouts.”</p> + +<p>“I’d just like to find one worth two thousand dollars. I’d start for +home mighty quick, and give Sukey Smith a chance to become Mrs. +Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Success to you!” said Joe, laughing.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXIII<br /> +A STARTLING TABLEAU</h2> + +<p>Joe finally decided on some mines a hundred miles distant in a +southwesterly direction. They were reported to be rich and promising.</p> + +<p>“At any rate,” said he, “even if they are no better than here, we +shall get a little variety and change of scene.”</p> + +<p>“That’ll be good for our appetite.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think, Mr. Bickford, that either of us need be concerned +about his appetite. Mine is remarkably healthy.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing was ever the matter with mine,” said Joshua, “as long as the +provisions held out.”</p> + +<p>They made some few preparations of a necessary character. Their +clothing was in rags, and they got a new outfit at the mining store. +Each also provided himself with a rifle. The expense of these made +some inroads upon their stock of money, but by the time they were +ready to start they had eight hundred dollars between them, besides +their outfit, and this they considered satisfactory.</p> + +<p>Kellogg at first proposed to go with them, but finally he changed his +mind.</p> + +<p>“I am in a hurry to get home,” he said, “and these mines are a sure +thing. If I were as young as you, I would take the risk. As it is, +I had better not. I’ve got a wife and child at home, and I want to +go back to them as soon as I can.”</p> + +<p>“You are right,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got a girl at home,” said Joshua, “but I guess she’ll wait for +me.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose she don’t,” suggested Joe.</p> + +<p>“I shan’t break my heart,” said Mr. Bickford. “There’s more than one +girl in the world.”</p> + +<p>“I see you are a philosopher, Mr. Bickford,” said his old +schoolmaster.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know about that, but I don’t intend to make a fool of myself +for any gal. I shall say, ’Sukey, here I am; I’ve got a little +money, and I’m your’n till death if you say so. If you don’t want +me, I won’t commit susan-cide.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a capital joke, Joshua,” said Joe. “Her name is Susan, isn’t +it?”</p> + +<p>“Have I made a joke? Waal, I didn’t go to do it.”</p> + +<p>“It is unconscious wit, Mr. Bickford,” said Kellogg.</p> + +<p>“Pooty good joke, ain’t it?” said Joshua complacently. “Susan-cide, +and her name is Susan. Ho! ho! I never thought on’t.”</p> + +<p>And Joshua roared in appreciation of the joke which he had +unwittingly perpetrated, for it must be explained that he thought +susan-cide the proper form of the word expressing a voluntary +severing of the vital cord.</p> + +<p>Years afterward, when Joshua found himself the center of a social +throng, he was wont to say, “Ever heard that joke I made about +Susan?” and then he would cite it amid the plaudits of his friends.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford and Joe had not disposed of their horses. They had +suffered them to forage in the neighborhood of the river, thinking it +possible that the time would come when they would require them.</p> + +<p>One fine morning they set out from the camp near the banks of the +Yuba and set their faces in a southwesterly direction. They had made +themselves popular among their comrades, and the miners gave them a +hearty cheer as they started.</p> + +<p>“Good luck, Joe! Good luck, old man!” they exclaimed heartily.</p> + +<p>“The same to you, boy!”</p> + +<p>So with mutual good feeling they parted company.</p> + +<p>“We ain’t leavin’ like our friend from Pike County,” said Mr. +Bickford. “I often think of the poor critter trottin’ off with face +to the rear.”</p> + +<p>“I hope we shan’t meet him or any of his kind,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“So do I. He’d better go and live among the wildcats.”</p> + +<p>“He is some like them. He lives upon others.”</p> + +<p>It would only be wearisome to give a detailed account of the journey +of the two friends. One incident will suffice.</p> + +<p>On the fourth day Joe suddenly exclaimed in excitement:</p> + +<p>“Look, Joshua!”</p> + +<p>“By gosh!”</p> + +<p>The exclamation was a natural one. At the distance of forty rods a +man was visible, his hat off, his face wild with fear, and in +dangerous proximity a grizzly bear of the largest size doggedly +pursuing him.</p> + +<p>“It’s Hogan!” exclaimed Joe in surprise. “We must save him.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXIV<br /> +A GRIZZLY ON THE WAR-PATH</h2> + +<p>It may surprise some of my young friends to learn that the grizzly +bear is to be found in California. Though as the State has increased +in population mostly all have been killed off, even now among the +mountains they may be found, and occasionally visit the lower slopes +and attack men and beasts.</p> + +<p>Hogan had had the ill-luck to encounter one of these animals.</p> + +<p>When he first saw the grizzly there was a considerable space between +them. If he had concealed himself, he might have escaped the notice +of the beast, but when he commenced running the grizzly became aware +of his presence and started in pursuit.</p> + +<p>Hogan was rather dilapidated in appearance. Trusting to luck instead +of labor, he had had a hard time, as he might have expected. His +flannel shirt was ragged and his nether garments showed the ravages +of time. In the race his hat had dropped off and his rough, unkempt +hair was erect with fright. He was running rapidly, but was already +showing signs of exhaustion. The bear was getting over the ground +with clumsy speed, appearing to take it easily, but overhauling his +intended victim slowly, but surely.</p> + +<p>Joe and Bickford were standing on one side, and had not yet attracted +the attention of either party in this unequal race.</p> + +<p>“Poor chap!” said Joshua. “He looks most tuckered out. Shall I +shoot?”</p> + +<p>“Wait till the bear gets a little nearer. We can’t afford to miss. +He will turn on us.”</p> + +<p>“I’m in a hurry to roll the beast over,” said Joshua. “It’s a cruel +sight to see a grizzly hunting a man.”</p> + +<p>At this moment Hogan turned his head with the terror-stricken look of +a man who felt that he was lost.</p> + +<p>The bear was little more than a hundred feet behind him and was +gaining steadily. He was already terribly fatigued—his breathing +was reduced to a hoarse pant. He was overcome by the terror of the +situation, and his remaining strength gave way. With a shrill cry he +sank down upon the ground, and, shutting his eyes, awaited the attack.</p> + +<p>The bear increased his speed.</p> + +<p>“Now let him have it!” said Joe in a sharp, quick whisper.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford fired, striking the grizzly in the face.</p> + +<p>Bruin stood still and roared angrily. He wagged his large head from +one side to the other, seeking by whom this attack was made.</p> + +<p>He espied the two friends, and, abandoning his pursuit of Hogan, +rolled angrily toward them.</p> + +<p>“Give it to him quick, Joe!” exclaimed Bickford. “He’s making for +us.”</p> + +<p>Joe held his rifle with steady hand and took deliberate aim. It was +well he did, for had he failed both he and Bickford would have been +in great peril.</p> + +<p>His faithful rifle did good service.</p> + +<p>The bear tumbled to the earth with sudden awkwardness. The bullet +had reached a vital part and the grizzly was destined to do no more +mischief.</p> + +<p>“Is he dead, or only feigning?” asked Joe prudently.</p> + +<p>“He’s a gone coon,” said Joshua. “Let us go up and look at him.”</p> + +<p>They went up and stood over the huge beast. He was not quite dead. +He opened his glazing eyes, made a convulsive movement with his paws +as if he would like to attack his foes, and then his head fell back +and he moved no more.</p> + +<p>“He’s gone, sure enough,” said Bickford. “Good-by, old grizzly. You +meant well, but circumstances interfered with your good intentions.”</p> + +<p>“Now let us look up Hogan,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>The man had sunk to the ground utterly exhausted, and in his weakness +and terror had fainted.</p> + +<p>Joe got some water and threw it in his face.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes and drew a deep breath. A sudden recollection +blanched his face anew, and he cried:</p> + +<p>“Don’t let him get at me!”</p> + +<p>“You’re safe, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe. “The bear is dead.”</p> + +<p>“Dead! Is he really dead?”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t believe it, get up and look at him,” said Bickford.</p> + +<p>“I can’t get up—I’m so weak.”</p> + +<p>“Let me help you, then. There—do you see the critter?”</p> + +<p>Hogan shuddered as he caught sight of the huge beast only twenty-five +feet distant from him.</p> + +<p>“Was he as near as that?” he gasped.</p> + +<p>“He almost had you,” said Bickford. “If it hadn’t been for Joe and +me, he’d have been munchin’ you at this identical minute. Things +have changed a little, and in place of the bear eatin’ you you shall +help eat the bear.”</p> + +<p>By this time Hogan, realizing that he was safe, began to recover his +strength. As he did so he became angry with the beast that had +driven him such a hard race for life. He ran up to the grizzly and +kicked him.</p> + +<p>“Take that!” he exclaimed with an oath. “I wish you wasn’t dead, so +that I could stick my knife into you.”</p> + +<p>“If he wasn’t dead you’d keep your distance,” said Joshua dryly. “It +don’t require much courage to tackle him now.”</p> + +<p>Hogan felt this to be a reflection upon his courage.</p> + +<p>“I guess you’d have run, too, if he’d been after you,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I guess I should. Bears are all very well in their place, but I’d +rather not mingle with ’em socially. They’re very affectionate and +fond of hugging, but if I’m going to be hugged I wouldn’t choose a +bear.”</p> + +<p>“You seem to think I was a coward for runnin’ from the bear.”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t. How do I know you was runnin’ from the bear? Maybe +you was only takin’ a little exercise to get up an appetite for +dinner.”</p> + +<p>“I am faint and weak,” said Hogan. “I haven’t had anything to eat +for twelve hours.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have some food,” said Joe. “Joshua, where are the +provisions? We may as well sit down and lunch.”</p> + +<p>“Jest as you say, Joe. I most generally have an appetite.”</p> + +<p>There was a mountain spring within a stone’s throw. Joshua took a +tin pail and brought some of the sparkling beverage, which he offered +first to Hogan.</p> + +<p>Hogan drank greedily. His throat was parched and dry, and he needed +it.</p> + +<p>He drew a deep breath of relief.</p> + +<p>“I feel better,” said he. “I was in search of a spring when that +cursed beast spied me and gave me chase.”</p> + +<p>They sat down under the shade of a large tree and lunched.</p> + +<p>“What sort of luck have you had since you tried to break into my +restaurant, Mr. Hogan?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>Hogan changed color. The question was an awkward one.</p> + +<p>“Who told you I tried to enter your restaurant?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“The man you brought there.”</p> + +<p>“That wasn’t creditable of you, Hogan,” said Joshua, with his mouth +full. “After my friend Joe had given you a supper and promised you +breakfast, it was unkind to try to rob him. Don’t you think so +yourself?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t help it,” said Hogan, who had rapidly decided on his +defense.</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t help it?” said Joe in a tone of inquiry. “That’s rather a +strange statement.”</p> + +<p>“It’s true,” said Hogan. “The man forced me to do it.”</p> + +<p>“How was that?”</p> + +<p>“He saw me comin’ out of the restaurant a little while before, and +when he met me, after trying to rob me and finding that it didn’t +pay, he asked me if I was a friend of yours. I told him I was. Then +he began to ask if you slept there at night and if anybody was with +you. I didn’t want to answer, but he held a pistol at my head and +forced me to. Then he made me go with him. I offered to get in, +thinking I could whisper in your ear and warn you, but he wouldn’t +let me. He stationed me at the window and got in himself. You know +what followed. As soon as I saw you were too strong for him I ran +away, fearing that he might try to implicate me in the attempt at +robbery.”</p> + +<p>Hogan recited this story very glibly and in a very plausible manner.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “if I didn’t know you so thoroughly, I might +be disposed to put confidence in your statements. As it is, I regret +to say I don’t believe you.”</p> + +<p>“Hogan,” said Joshua, “I think you’re one of the fust romancers of +the age. If I ever start a story-paper I’ll engage you to write for +me.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry you do me so much injustice, gentlemen,” said Hogan, with +an air of suffering innocence. “I’m the victim of circumstances.”</p> + +<p>“I expect you’re a second George Washington. You never told a lie, +did you?”</p> + +<p>“Some time you will know me better,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“I hope not,” said Joe. “I know you better now than I want to.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXV<br /> +THE NEW DIGGINGS</h2> + +<p>When lunch-was over, Joe said:</p> + +<p>“Good day, Mr. Hogan. Look out for the grizzlies, and may you have +better luck in future.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Hogan, good-by,” said Joshua. “We make over to you all our +interest in the bear. He meant to eat you. You can revenge yourself +by eatin’ him.”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to leave me, gentlemen?” asked Hogan in alarm.</p> + +<p>“You don’t expect us to stay and take care of you, do you?”</p> + +<p>“Let me go with you,” pleaded Hogan. “I am afraid to be left alone +in this country. I may meet another grizzly, and lose my life.”</p> + +<p>“That would be a great loss to the world,” said Mr. Bickford, with +unconcealed sarcasm.</p> + +<p>“It would be a great loss to me,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Maybe that’s the best way to put it,” observed Bickford. “It would +have been money in my friend Joe’s pocket if you had never been born.”</p> + +<p>“May I go with you?” pleaded Hogan, this time addressing himself to +Joe.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “you know very well why your company is not +acceptable to us.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have no occasion to complain,” said Hogan earnestly.</p> + +<p>“Do you want us to adopt you, Hogan?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“Let me stay with you till we reach the nearest diggings. Then I +won’t trouble you any more.”</p> + +<p>Joe turned to Bickford.</p> + +<p>“If you don’t object,” he said, “I think I’ll let him come.”</p> + +<p>“Let the critter come,” said Bickford. “He’d be sure to choke any +grizzly that tackled him. For the sake of the bear, let him come.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Hogan was too glad to join the party, on any conditions, to +resent the tone which Mr. Bickford employed in addressing him. He +obtained his suit, and the party of three kept on their way.</p> + +<p>As they advanced the country became rougher and more hilly. Here and +there they saw evidences of “prospecting” by former visitors. They +came upon deserted claims and the sites of former camps. But in +these places the indications of gold had not been sufficiently +favorable to warrant continued work, and the miners had gone +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>At last, however, they came to a dozen men who were busily at work in +a gulch. Two rude huts near-by evidently served as their temporary +homes.</p> + +<p>“Well, boys, how do you find it?” inquired Bickford, riding up.</p> + +<p>“Pretty fair,” said one of the party.</p> + +<p>“Have you got room for three more?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—come along. You can select claims alongside and go to work if +you want to.”</p> + +<p>“What do you say, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“I am in favor of it.”</p> + +<p>“We are going to put up here, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford. “You can do +as you’ve a mind to. Much as we value your interestin’ society, we +hope you won’t put yourself out to stay on our account.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll stay,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>Joe and Joshua surveyed the ground and staked out their claims, +writing out the usual notice and posting it on a neighboring tree. +They had not all the requisite tools, but these they were able to +purchase at one of the cabins.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do?” asked Hogan. “I’m dead broke. I can’t work +without tools, and I can’t buy any.”</p> + +<p>“Do you want to work for me?” asked Joshua.</p> + +<p>“What’ll you give?”</p> + +<p>“That’ll depend on how you work. If you work stiddy, I’ll give you a +quarter of what we both make. I’ll supply you with tools, but +they’ll belong to me.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose we don’t make anything,” suggested Hogan.</p> + +<p>“You shall have a quarter of that. You see, I want to make it for +your interest to succeed.”</p> + +<p>“Then I shall starve.”</p> + +<p>The bargain was modified so that Hogan was assured of enough to eat, +and was promised, besides, a small sum of money daily, but was not to +participate in the gains.</p> + +<p>“If we find a nugget, it won’t do you any good. Do you understand, +Hogan?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I understand.”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, having very little faith in any +prospective nuggets.</p> + +<p>“Then we understand each other. That’s all I want.”</p> + +<p>On the second day Joe and Mr. Bickford consolidated their claims and +became partners, agreeing to divide whatever they found. Hogan was +to work for them jointly.</p> + +<p>They did not find their hired man altogether satisfactory. He was +lazy and shiftless by nature, and work was irksome to him.</p> + +<p>“If you don’t work stiddy, Hogan,” said Joshua, “you can’t expect to +eat stiddy, and your appetite is pretty reg’lar, I notice.”</p> + +<p>Under this stimulus Hogan managed to work better than he had done +since he came out to California, or indeed for years preceding his +departure. Bickford and Joe had both been accustomed to farm work +and easily lapsed into their old habits.</p> + +<p>They found they had made a change for the better in leaving the banks +of the Yuba. The claims they were now working paid them better.</p> + +<p>“Twenty-five dollars to-day,” said Joshua, a week after their +arrival. “That pays better than hoeing pertaters, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, Mr. Bickford. You are ten dollars ahead of me. I am +afraid you will lose on our partnership.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll risk it, Joe.”</p> + +<p>Hogan was the only member of the party who was not satisfied.</p> + +<p>“Can’t you take me into partnership?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“We can, but I don’t think we will, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t pay. If you don’t like workin’ for us, you can take a +claim of your own.”</p> + +<p>“I have no tools.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you save your money and buy some, instead of gamblin’ it +away as you are doin’?”</p> + +<p>“A man must have amusement,” grumbled Hogan. “Besides, I may have +luck and win.”</p> + +<p>“Better keep clear of gamblin’, Hogan.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Hogan, if you want to start a claim of your own, I’ll give you +what tools you need,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>Upon reflection Hogan decided to accept this offer.</p> + +<p>“But of course you will have to find your own vittles now,” said +Joshua.</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>The same day he ceased to work for the firm of Bickford & Mason, for +Joe insisted on giving Mr. Bickford the precedence as the senior +party, and started on his own account.</p> + +<p>The result was that he worked considerably less than before. Being +his own master, he decided not to overwork himself, and in fact +worked only enough to make his board. He was continually grumbling +over his bad luck, although Joshua told him plainly that it wasn’t +luck, but industry, he lacked.</p> + +<p>“If you’d work like we do,” said Bickford, “you wouldn’t need to +complain. Your claim is just as good as ours, as far as we can tell.”</p> + +<p>“Then let us go in as partners,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“Not much. You ain’t the kind of partner I want.”</p> + +<p>“I was always unfortunate,” said Hogan.</p> + +<p>“You were always lazy, I reckon. You were born tired, weren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“My health ain’t good,” said Hogan. “I can’t work like you two.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve got a healthy appetite,” said Mr. Bickford. “There ain’t no +trouble there that I can see.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Hogan had an easier time than before, but he hadn’t money to +gamble with unless he deprived himself of his customary supply of +food, and this he was reluctant to do.</p> + +<p>“Lend me half-an-ounce of gold-dust, won’t you?” he asked of Joe one +evening.</p> + +<p>“What do you want it for—to gamble with?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Hogan. “I dreamed last night that I broke the bank. All +I want is money enough to start me.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t approve of gambling, and can’t help you.”</p> + +<p>Hogan next tried Mr. Bickford, but with like result.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t quite such a fool, Hogan,” said the plain-spoken Joshua.</p> + +<p>About this time a stroke of good luck fell to Joe. About three +o’clock one afternoon he unearthed a nugget which, at a rough +estimate, might be worth five hundred dollars.</p> + +<p>Instantly all was excitement in the mining-camp, not alone for what +he had obtained, but for the promise of richer deposits. Experienced +miners decided that he had struck upon what is popularly called a +“pocket,” and some of these are immensely remunerative.</p> + +<p>“Shake hands, Joe,” said Bickford. “You’re in luck.”</p> + +<p>“So are you, Mr. Bickford. We are partners, you know.”</p> + +<p>In less than an hour the two partners received an offer of eight +thousand dollars for their united claim, and the offer was accepted.</p> + +<p>Joe was the hero of the camp. All were rejoiced at his good fortune +except one. That one was Hogan, who from a little distance, jealous +and gloomy, surveyed the excited crowd.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXVI<br /> +HOGAN’S DISCONTENT</h2> + +<p>“Why don’t luck come to me?” muttered Hogan to himself. “That green +country boy has made a fortune, while I, an experienced man of the +world, have to live from hand to mouth. It’s an outrage!”</p> + +<p>The parties to whom Joe and his partner sold their claim were +responsible men who had been fortunate in mining and had a +bank-account in San Francisco.</p> + +<p>“We’ll give you an order on our banker,” they proposed.</p> + +<p>“That will suit me better than money down,” said Joe. “I shall start +for San Francisco to-morrow, having other business there that I need +to look after.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll go too, Joe,” said Joshua. “With my share of the +purchase-money and the nugget, I’m worth, nigh on to five thousand +dollars. What will dad say?”</p> + +<p>“And what will Susan Smith say?” queried Joe.</p> + +<p>Joshua grinned.</p> + +<p>“I guess she’ll say she’s ready to change her name to Bickford,” said +he.</p> + +<p>“You must send me some of the cake, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Just wait, Joe. The thing ain’t got to that yet. I tell you, Joe, +I shall be somebody when I get home to Pumpkin Hollow with that pile +of money. The boys’ll begin to look up to me then. I can’t hardly +believe it’s all true. Maybe I’m dreamin’ it. Jest pinch my arm, +will you?”</p> + +<p>Joe complied with his request.</p> + +<p>“That’ll do, Joe. You’ve got some strength in your fingers. I guess +it’s true, after all.”</p> + +<p>Joe observed with some surprise that Hogan did not come near them. +The rest, without exception, had congratulated them on their +extraordinary good luck.</p> + +<p>“Seems to me Hogan looks rather down in the mouth,” said Joe to +Bickford.</p> + +<p>“He’s mad ’cause he didn’t find the nugget. That’s what’s the matter +with him. I say, Hogan, you look as if your dinner didn’t agree with +you.”</p> + +<p>“My luck don’t agree with me.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to look at things right. Wasn’t you lucky the other +day to get away from the bear?”</p> + +<p>“I was unlucky enough to fall in with him.”</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t you lucky in meetin’ my friend Joe in New York, and raisin’ +money enough out of him to pay your passage out to Californy?”</p> + +<p>“I should be better off in New York. I am dead broke.”</p> + +<p>“You’d be dead broke in New York. Such fellers as you always is dead +broke.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Bickford?” demanded Hogan irritably.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t rare up, Hogan. It won’t do no good. You’d ought to have +more respect for me, considerin’ I was your boss once.”</p> + +<p>“I’d give something for that boy’s luck.”</p> + +<p>“Joe’s luck? Well, things have gone pretty well with him; but that +don’t explain all his success—he’s willin’ to work.”</p> + +<p>“So am I.”</p> + +<p>“Then go to work on your claim. There’s no knowin’ but there’s a +bigger nugget inside of it. If you stand round with your hands in +your pockets, you’ll never find it.”</p> + +<p>“It’s the poorest claim in the gulch,” said Hogan discontentedly.</p> + +<p>“It pays the poorest because you don’t work half the time.”</p> + +<p>Hogan apparently didn’t like Mr. Bickford’s plainness of speech. He +walked away moodily, with his hands in his pockets. He could not +help contrasting his penniless position with the enviable position of +the two friends, and the devil, who is always in wait for such +moments, thrust an evil suggestion into his mind.</p> + +<p>It was this:</p> + +<p>He asked himself why could he not steal the nugget which Joe had +found?</p> + +<p>“He can spare it, for he has sold the claim for a fortune,” Hogan +reasoned. “It isn’t fair that he should have everything and I should +have nothing. He ought to have made me his partner, anyway. He +would if he hadn’t been so selfish. I have just as much right to a +share in it as this infernal Yankee. I’d like to choke him.”</p> + +<p>This argument was a very weak one, but a man easily persuades himself +of what he wants to do.</p> + +<p>“I’ll try for it,” Hogan decided, “this very night.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXVII<br /> +THE NUGGET IS STOLEN</h2> + +<p>At this time Joe and Joshua were occupying a tent which they had +purchased on favorable terms of a fellow miner.</p> + +<p>They retired in good season, for they wished to start early on their +journey on the following morning.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know as I can go to sleep,” said Joshua. “I can’t help +thinkin’ of how rich I am, and what dad and all the folks will say.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to go home at once, Mr. Bickford?”</p> + +<p>“Jest as soon as I can get ready. I’ll tell you what I am goin’ to +do, Joe. I’m goin’ to buy a tip-top suit when I get to Boston, and a +gold watch and chain, and a breast-pin about as big as a saucer. +When I sail into Pumpkin Holler in that rig folks’ll look at me, you +bet. There’s old Squire Pennyroyal, he’ll be disappointed for one.”</p> + +<p>“Why will he be disappointed?”</p> + +<p>“Because he told dad I was a fool to come out here. He said I’d be +back in rags before a year was out. Now, the old man thinks a good +deal of his opinion, and he won’t like it to find how badly he’s +mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“Then he would prefer to see you come home in rags?”</p> + +<p>“You bet he would.”</p> + +<p>“How about Susan? Ain’t you afraid she has married the store clerk?”</p> + +<p>Joshua looked grave for a moment.</p> + +<p>“I won’t say but she has,” said he; “but if she has gone and +forgotten about me jest because my back is turned, she ain’t the gal +I take her for, and I won’t fret my gizzard about her.”</p> + +<p>“She will feel worse than you when she finds you have come back with +money.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so.”</p> + +<p>“And you will easily find some one else,” suggested Joe.</p> + +<p>“There’s Sophrony Thompson thinks a sight of me,” said Mr. Bickford. +“She’s awful jealous of Susan. If Susan goes back on me, I’ll call +round and see Sophrony.”</p> + +<p>Joe laughed.</p> + +<p>“I won’t feel anxious about you, Joshua,” he said, “since I find you +have two girls to choose between.”</p> + +<p>“Not much danger of breakin’ my heart. It’s pretty tough.”</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence.</p> + +<p>Then Joshua said:</p> + +<p>“What are your plans, Joe? Shall you remain in San Francisco?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been thinking, Mr. Bickford, that I would like to go home on a +visit. If I find that I have left my business in good hands in the +city, I shall feel strongly tempted to go home on the same steamer +with you.”</p> + +<p>“That would be hunky,” said Bickford, really delighted. “We’d have a +jolly time.”</p> + +<p>“I think we would. But, Mr. Bickford, I have no girls to welcome me +home, as you have.”</p> + +<p>“You ain’t old enough yet, Joe. You’re a good-lookin’ feller, and +when the time comes I guess you can find somebody.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t begin to trouble myself about such things yet,” said Joe, +laughing. “I am only sixteen.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve been through considerable, Joe, for a boy of sixteen. I wish +you’d come up to Pumpkin Holler and make me a visit when you’re to +home.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I can arrange to be present at your wedding, Mr. +Bickford—that is, if Susan doesn’t make you wait too long.”</p> + +<p>While this conversation was going on the dark figure of a man was +prowling near the tent.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t the fools stop talking and go to sleep,” muttered Hogan. +“I don’t want to wait here all night.” His wish was gratified.</p> + +<p>The two friends ceased talking and lay quite still. Soon Joe’s deep, +regular breathing and Bickford’s snoring convinced the listener that +the time had come to carry out his plans.</p> + +<p>With stealthy step he approached the tent, and stooping over gently +removed the nugget from under Joshua’s head. There was a bag of +gold-dust which escaped his notice. The nugget was all he thought of.</p> + +<p>With beating heart and hasty step the thief melted into the darkness, +and the two friends slept on unconscious of their loss.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXVIII<br /> +HOGAN’S FATE</h2> + +<p>The sun was up an hour before Joe and Bickford awoke. When Joe +opened his eyes he saw that it was later than the hour he intended to +rise. He shook his companion.</p> + +<p>“Is it mornin’?” asked Bickford drowsily.</p> + +<p>“I should say it was. Everybody is up and eating breakfast. We must +prepare to set out on our journey.”</p> + +<p>“Then it is time—we are rich,” said Joshua, with sudden remembrance. +“Do you know, Joe, I hain’t got used to the thought yet. I had +actually forgotten it.”</p> + +<p>“The sight of the nugget will bring it to mind.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so.”</p> + +<p>Bickford felt for the nugget, without a suspicion that the search +would be in vain.</p> + +<p>Of course he did not find it.</p> + +<p>“Joe, you are trying to play a trick on me,” he said. “You’ve taken +the nugget.”</p> + +<p>“What!” exclaimed Joe, starting. “Is it missing?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and you know all about it. Where have you put it, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“On my honor, Joshua, I haven’t touched it,” said Joe seriously. +“Where did you place it?”</p> + +<p>“Under my head—the last thing before I lay down.”</p> + +<p>“Are you positive of it?”</p> + +<p>“Certain, sure.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Joe, a little pale, “it must have been taken during the +night.”</p> + +<p>“Who would take it?”</p> + +<p>“Let us find Hogan,” said Joe, with instinctive suspicion. “Who has +seen Hogan?”</p> + +<p>Hogan’s claim was in sight, but he was not at work. Neither was he +taking breakfast.</p> + +<p>“I’ll bet the skunk has grabbed the nugget and cleared out,” +exclaimed Bickford, in a tone of conviction.</p> + +<p>“Did you hear or see anything of him during the night?”</p> + +<p>“No—I slept too sound.”</p> + +<p>“Is anything else taken?” asked Joe. “The bag of dust——”</p> + +<p>“Is safe. It’s only the nugget that’s gone.”</p> + +<p>The loss was quickly noised about the camp. Such an incident was of +common interest. Miners lived so much in common—their property was +necessarily left so unguarded—that theft was something more than +misdemeanor or light offense. Stern was the justice which overtook +the thief in those days. It was necessary, perhaps, for it was a +primitive state of society, and the code which in established +communities was a safeguard did not extend its protection here.</p> + +<p>Suspicion fell upon Hogan at once. No one of the miners remembered +to have seen him since rising.</p> + +<p>“Did any one see him last night?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>Kellogg answered.</p> + +<p>“I saw him near your tent,” he said. “I did not think anything of +it. Perhaps if I had been less sleepy I should have been more likely +to suspect that his design was not a good one.”</p> + +<p>“About what hour was this?”</p> + +<p>“It must have been between ten and eleven o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“We did not go to sleep at once. Mr. Bickford and I were talking +over our plans.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I’d been awake when the skunk come round,” said Bickford. +“I’d have grabbed him so he’d thought an old grizzly’d got hold of +him.”</p> + +<p>“Did you notice anything in his manner that led you to think he +intended robbery?” asked Kellogg.</p> + +<p>“He was complainin’ of his luck. He thought Joe and I got more than +our share, and I’m willin’ to allow we have; but if we’d been as lazy +and shif’less as Hogan we wouldn’t have got down to the nugget at +all.”</p> + +<p>An informal council was held, and it was decided to pursue Hogan. As +it was uncertain in which direction he had fled, it was resolved to +send out four parties of two men each to hunt him. Joe and Kellogg +went together, Joshua and another miner departed in a different +direction, and two other pairs started out.</p> + +<p>“I guess we’ll fix him,” said Mr. Bickford. “If he can dodge us all, +he’s smarter than I think he is.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Hogan, with the precious nugget in his possession, hurried +forward with feverish haste. The night was dark and the country was +broken. From time to time he stumbled over some obstacle, the root +of a tree or something similar, and this made his journey more +arduous.</p> + +<p>“I wish it was light,” he muttered.</p> + +<p>Then he revoked his wish. In the darkness and obscurity lay his +hopes of escape.</p> + +<p>“I’d give half this nugget if I was safe in San Francisco,” he said +to himself.</p> + +<p>He stumbled on, occasionally forced by his fatigue to sit down and +rest.</p> + +<p>“I hope I’m going in the right direction, but I don’t know,” he said +to himself.</p> + +<p>He had been traveling with occasional rests for four hours when +fatigue overcame him. He lay down to take a slight nap, but when he +awoke the sun was up.</p> + +<p>“Good Heaven!” he exclaimed in alarm. “I must have slept for some +hours. I will eat something to give me strength, and then I must +hurry on.”</p> + +<p>He had taken the precaution to take some provisions with him, and he +began to eat them as he hurried along.</p> + +<p>“They have just discovered their loss,” thought Hogan. “Will they +follow me, I wonder? I must be a good twelve miles away, and this is +a fair start. They will turn back before they have come as far as +this. Besides, they won’t know in what direction I have come.”</p> + +<p>Hogan was mistaken in supposing himself to be twelve miles away. In +reality, he was not eight. During the night he had traveled at +disadvantage, and taken a round-about way without being aware of it. +He was mistaken also in supposing that the pursuit would be easily +abandoned. Mining communities could not afford to condone theft, nor +were they disposed to facilitate the escape of the thief. More than +once the murderer had escaped, while the thief was pursued +relentlessly. All this made Hogan’s position a perilous one. If he +had been long enough in the country to understand the feeling of the +people, he would not have ventured to steal the nugget.</p> + +<p>About eleven o’clock Hogan sat down to rest. He reclined on the +greensward near the edge of a precipitous descent. He did not dream +that danger was so close till he heard his name called and two men +came running toward him. Hogan, starting to his feet in dismay, +recognized Crane and Peabody, two of his late comrades.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” he faltered, as they came within hearing.</p> + +<p>“The nugget,” said Crane sternly.</p> + +<p>Hogan would have denied its possession if he could, but there it was +at his side.</p> + +<p>“There it is,” he said.</p> + +<p>“What induced you to steal it?” demanded Crane.</p> + +<p>“I was dead broke. Luck was against me. I couldn’t help it.”</p> + +<p>“It was a bad day’s work for you,” said Peabody. “Didn’t you know +the penalty attached to theft in the mining-camps?”</p> + +<p>“No,” faltered Hogan, alarmed at the stern looks of his captors. +“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Death by hanging,” was the terrible reply.</p> + +<p>Hogan’s face blanched, and he sank on his knees before them.</p> + +<p>“Don’t let me be hung!” he entreated. “You’ve got the nugget back. +I’ve done no harm. No one has lost anything by me.”</p> + +<p>“Eight of us have lost our time in pursuing you. You gave up the +nugget because you were forced to. You intended to carry it away.”</p> + +<p>“Mercy! mercy! I’m a very unlucky man. I’ll go away and never +trouble you again.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t mean that you shall,” said Crane sternly. “Peabody, tie +his hands; we must take him back with us.”</p> + +<p>“I won’t go,” said Hogan, lying down. “I am not going back to be +hung.”</p> + +<p>It would obviously be impossible to carry a struggling man back +fifteen miles, or more.</p> + +<p>“We must hang you on the spot then,” said Crane, producing a cord. +“Say your prayers; your fate is sealed.”</p> + +<p>“But this is murder!” faltered Hogan, with pallid lips.</p> + +<p>“We take the responsibility.”</p> + +<p>He advanced toward Hogan, who now felt the full horrors of his +situation. He sprang to his feet, rushed in frantic fear to the edge +of the precipice, threw up his arms, and plunged headlong. It was +done so quickly that neither of his captors was able to prevent him.</p> + +<p>They hurried to the precipice and looked over. A hundred feet below, +on a rough rock, they saw a shapeless and motionless figure, crushed +out of human semblance.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it is as well,” said Crane gravely. “He has saved us an +unwelcome task.”</p> + +<p>The nugget was restored to its owners, to whom Hogan’s tragical fate +was told.</p> + +<p>“Poor fellow!” said Joe soberly. “I would rather have lost the +nugget.”</p> + +<p>“So would I,” said Bickford. “He was a poor, shif’less critter; but +I’m sorry for him.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXXIX<br /> +HOW JOE’S BUSINESS PROSPERED</h2> + +<p>Joe and his friend Bickford arrived in San Francisco eight days later +without having met with any other misadventure or drawback. He had +been absent less than three months, yet he found changes. A +considerable number of buildings had gone up in different parts of +the town during his absence.</p> + +<p>“It is a wonderful place,” said Joe to his companion.</p> + +<p>“It is going to be a great city some day.”</p> + +<p>“It’s ahead of Pumpkin Holler already,” said Mr. Bickford, “though +the Holler has been goin’ for over a hundred years.”</p> + +<p>Joe smiled at the comparison. He thought he could foresee the rapid +progress of the new city, but he was far from comprehending the +magnificent future that lay before it. A short time since, the +writer of this story ascended to the roof of the Palace Hotel, and +from this lofty elevation, a hundred and forty feet above the +sidewalk, scanned with delighted eyes a handsome and substantial +city, apparently the growth of a century, and including within its +broad limits a population of three hundred thousand souls. It will +not be many years before it reaches half-a-million, and may fairly be +ranked among the great cities of the world.</p> + +<p>Of course Joe’s first visit was to his old place of business. He +received a hearty greeting from Watson, his deputy.</p> + +<p>“I am glad to see you, Joe,” said he, grasping our hero’s hand +cordially. “When did you arrive?”</p> + +<p>“Ten minutes ago. I have made you the first call.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you thought I might have ‘vamosed the ranch,’” said Watson, +smiling, “and left you and the business in the lurch.”</p> + +<p>“I had no fears on that score,” said Joe. “Has business been good?”</p> + +<p>“Excellent. I have paid weekly your share of the profits to Mr. +Morgan.”</p> + +<p>“Am I a millionaire yet?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not quite. I have paid Mr. Morgan on your account”—here Watson +consulted a small account-book—“nine hundred and twenty-five +dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Is it possible?” said Joe, gratified. “That is splendid.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are satisfied?”</p> + +<p>“More than satisfied.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad of it. I have made the same for myself and so have nearly +half made up the sum which I so foolishly squandered at the +gaming-table.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad for you, Mr. Watson.”</p> + +<p>“How have you prospered at the mines?”</p> + +<p>“I have had excellent luck.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe you bring home as much money as I have made for you +here.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t bet on that, Mr. Watson, for you would lose.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say that you have made a thousand dollars?” +exclaimed Watson, surprised.</p> + +<p>“I have made five thousand dollars within a hundred or two.”</p> + +<p>“Is it possible?” ejaculated Watson. “You beat everything for luck, +Joe.”</p> + +<p>“So he does,” said Bickford, who felt that it was time for him to +speak. “It’s lucky for me that I fell in with him. It brought me +luck, too, for we went into partnership together.”</p> + +<p>“Have you brought home five thousand dollars, too?” asked Watson.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got about the same as Joe, and now I’m going home to marry +Susan Smith if she’ll have me.”</p> + +<p>“She’ll marry a rich miner, Mr. Bickford. You needn’t be concerned +about that.”</p> + +<p>“I feel pretty easy in mind,” said Joshua.</p> + +<p>“How soon do you sail?”</p> + +<p>“When does the next steamer go?”</p> + +<p>“In six days.”</p> + +<p>“I guess it’ll carry me.”</p> + +<p>Watson turned to Joe.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you will now take charge of your own business?” said he. +“I am ready to hand over my trust at any minute.”</p> + +<p>“Would you object to retaining charge for—say for four months to +come?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Object? I should be delighted to do it. I couldn’t expect to make +as much money any other way.”</p> + +<p>“You see, Mr. Watson, I am thinking of going home myself on a visit. +I feel that I can afford it, and I should like to see my old friends +and acquaintances under my new and improved circumstances.”</p> + +<p>Watson was evidently elated at the prospect of continued employment +of so remunerative a character.</p> + +<p>“You may depend upon it that your interests are safe in my hands,” +said he. “I will carry on the business as if it were my own. +Indeed, it will be for my interest to do so.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Watson. I have perfect confidence In your +management.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s next call was on his friend Morgan, by whom also he was +cordially welcomed.</p> + +<p>“Have you called on Watson?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then he has probably given you an idea of how your business has gone +on during your absence. He is a thoroughly reliable man, in my +opinion. You were fortunate to secure his services.”</p> + +<p>“So I think.”</p> + +<p>“Have you done well at the mines?” asked Mr. Morgan doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“You hope so, but you don’t feel confident?” said Joe, smiling.</p> + +<p>“You can read my thoughts exactly. I don’t consider mining as +reliable as a regular business.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I, in general, but there is one thing you don’t take into +account.”</p> + +<p>“What is that?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford answered the question.</p> + +<p>“Joe’s luck.”</p> + +<p>“Then you have been lucky?”</p> + +<p>“How much do you think I have brought home?”</p> + +<p>“A thousand dollars?”</p> + +<p>“Five times that sum.”</p> + +<p>“Are you in earnest?” asked Mr. Morgan, incredulous.</p> + +<p>“Wholly so.”</p> + +<p>“Then let me congratulate you—on that and something else.”</p> + +<p>“What is that?”</p> + +<p>“The lots you purchased, including the one on which your restaurant +is situated, have more than doubled in value.”</p> + +<p>“Bully for you, Joe!” exclaimed Mr. Bickford enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>“It never rains but it pours,” said Joe, quoting an old proverb. “I +begin to think I shall be rich some time, Mr. Morgan.”</p> + +<p>“It seems very much like it.”</p> + +<p>“What would you advise me to do, Mr. Morgan—sell out the lots at the +present advance?”</p> + +<p>“Hold on to them, Joe. Not only do that, but buy more. This is +destined some day to be a great city. It has a favorable location, +is the great mining center, and the State, I feel convinced, has an +immense territory fit for agricultural purposes. Lots here may +fluctuate, but they will go up a good deal higher than present +figures.”</p> + +<p>“If you think so, Mr. Morgan, I will leave in your hands three +thousand dollars for investment in other lots. This will leave me, +including my profits from the business during my absence, nearly +three thousand dollars more, which I shall take East and invest +there.”</p> + +<p>“I will follow your instructions, Joe, and predict that your real +estate investments will make you rich sooner than you think.”</p> + +<p>“Joe,” said Bickford, “I’ve a great mind to leave half of my money +with Mr. Morgan to be invested in the same way.”</p> + +<p>“Do it, Mr. Bickford. That will leave you enough to use at home.”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I can buy a farm for two thousand dollars and stock it for five +hundred more. Besides, I needn’t pay more than half down, if I don’t +want to.”</p> + +<p>“A good plan,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Morgan, will you take my money and invest it for me just like +Joe’s? Of course I want you to take a commission for doing it.”</p> + +<p>“With pleasure, Mr. Bickford, more especially as I have decided to +open a real estate office in addition to my regular business. You +and Joe will be my first customers. I shouldn’t wonder if the two or +three thousand dollars you leave with me should amount in ten years +to ten thousand.”</p> + +<p>“Ten thousand!” ejaculated Joshua, elated. “Won’t I swell round +Pumpkin Holler when I’m worth ten thousand dollars!”</p> + +<p>Six days later, among the passengers by the steamer for Panama, were +Joseph Mason and Joshua Bickford.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XL<br /> +JOE’S WELCOME HOME</h2> + +<p>On arriving in New York both Joe and Mr. Bickford bought new suits of +clothes. Mr. Bickford purchased a blue dress suit, resplendent with +brass buttons, and a gold watch and chain, which made a good deal of +show for the money. His tastes were still barbaric, and a quiet suit +of black would not have come up to his idea of what was befitting a +successful California miner.</p> + +<p>He surveyed himself before the tailor’s glass with abundant +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“I guess that’ll strike ’em at home, eh, Joe?” he said.</p> + +<p>“You look splendid, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Kinder scrumptious, don’t I?”</p> + +<p>“Decidedly so.”</p> + +<p>“I say, Joe, you’d better have a suit made just like this.”</p> + +<p>Joe shuddered at the thought. In refinement of taste he was +decidedly ahead of his friend and partner.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to buy a second-hand suit,” he said.</p> + +<p>“What!” ejaculated Joshua.</p> + +<p>Joe smiled.</p> + +<p>“I knew you’d be surprised, but I’ll explain. I want people to think +at first that I have been unlucky.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see,” said Joshua, nodding; “kinder take ’em in.”</p> + +<p>“Just so, Mr. Bickford.”</p> + +<p>“Well, there is something in that.”</p> + +<p>“Then I shall find out who my true friends are.”</p> + +<p>“Just so.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It is not my purpose to describe Mr. Bickford’s arrival in Pumpkin +Hollow, resplendent in his new suit. Joshua wouldn’t have changed +places with the President of the United States on that day. His old +friends gathered about him, and listened open-mouthed to his stories +of mining life in California and his own wonderful exploits, which +lost nothing in the telling. He found his faithful Susan unmarried, +and lost no time in renewing his suit. He came, he saw, he conquered!</p> + +<p>In four weeks Susan became Mrs. Bickford, her husband became the +owner of the farm he coveted, and he at once took his place among the +prominent men of Pumpkin Hollow. In a few years he was appointed +justice of the peace, and became known as Squire Bickford. It may be +as well to state here, before taking leave of him, that his real +estate investments in San Francisco proved fortunate, and in ten +years he found himself worth ten thousand dollars. This to Joshua +was a fortune, and he is looked upon as a solid man in the town where +he resides.</p> + +<p>We now turn to Joe.</p> + +<p>Since his departure nothing definite had been heard of him. Another +boy had taken his place on Major Norton’s farm, but he was less +reliable than Joe.</p> + +<p>“I am out of patience with that boy. I wish I had Joe back again.”</p> + +<p>“Have you heard anything of Joe since he went away?” inquired Oscar.</p> + +<p>“Not a word.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe he went to California at all.”</p> + +<p>“In that case we should have heard from him.”</p> + +<p>“No, Joe’s proud—poor and proud!” said Oscar. “I guess he’s wished +himself back many a time, but he’s too proud to own it.”</p> + +<p>“Joe was good to work,” said the major.</p> + +<p>“He was too conceited. He didn’t know his place. He thought himself +as good as me,” said Oscar arrogantly.</p> + +<p>“Most people seemed to like Joe,” said the major candidly.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t,” said Oscar, tossing his head. “If he’d kept in his place +and realized that he was a hired boy, I could have got along well +enough with him.”</p> + +<p>“I wish he would come back,” said the major. “I would take him back.”</p> + +<p>“I dare say he’s had a hard time and would be humbler now,” said +Oscar.</p> + +<p>At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and just afterward Joe +entered.</p> + +<p>He wore a mixed suit considerably the worse for wear and patched in +two or three places. There was a rip under the arm, and his hat, a +soft felt one, had become shapeless from long and apparently hard +usage. He stood in the doorway, waiting for recognition.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Joe?” said Major Norton cordially. “I am glad to see +you.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s face lighted up.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Shake hands, Joe.”</p> + +<p>Major Norton was mean in money matters, but he had something of the +gentleman about him.</p> + +<p>Oscar held aloof.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Oscar?”</p> + +<p>“I’m well,” said Oscar. “Have you been to California?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to have made your fortune,” said Oscar +superciliously, eying Joe’s shabby clothing.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t starved,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Where did you get that suit of clothes?” asked Oscar.</p> + +<p>“I hope you’ll excuse my appearance,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Well, Joe, do you want to come back to your old place?” asked Major +Norton. “I’ve got a boy, but he doesn’t suit me.”</p> + +<p>“How much would you be willing to pay me, Major Norton?”</p> + +<p>The major coughed.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he, “I gave you your board and clothes before. That’s +pretty good pay for a boy.”</p> + +<p>“I’m older now.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do the same by you, Joe, and give you fifty cents a week +besides.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you for the offer, Major Norton. I’ll take till to-morrow to +think of it.”</p> + +<p>“You’d better accept it now,” said Oscar. “Beggars shouldn’t be +choosers.”</p> + +<p>“I am not a beggar, Oscar,” said Joe mildly.</p> + +<p>“You look like one, anyway,” said Oscar bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Oscar,” said Major Norton, “if Joe has been unlucky, you shouldn’t +throw it in his teeth.”</p> + +<p>“He went off expecting to make his fortune,” said Oscar, in an +exulting tone. “He looks as if he had made it. Where are you going?”</p> + +<p>“I am going to look about the village a little. I will call again.”</p> + +<p>After Joe went out Oscar said:</p> + +<p>“It does me good to see Joe come in rags. Serves him right for +putting on airs.”</p> + +<p>On the main street Joe met Annie Raymond.</p> + +<p>“Why, Joe!” she exclaimed, delighted. “Is it really you?”</p> + +<p>“Bad pennies always come back,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Have you—— I am afraid you have not been fortunate,” said the +young lady, hesitating as she noticed Joe’s shabby clothes.</p> + +<p>“Do you think less of me for that?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Annie Raymond warmly. “It is you I like, not your +clothes. You may have been unfortunate, but I am sure you deserved +success.”</p> + +<p>“You are a true friend, Miss Annie, so I don’t mind telling you that +I was successful.”</p> + +<p>Annie Raymond looked astonished.</p> + +<p>“And these clothes—” she began.</p> + +<p>“I put on for Oscar Norton’s benefit. I wanted to see how he would +receive me. He evidently rejoiced at my bad fortune.”</p> + +<p>“Oscar is a mean boy. Joe, you must come to our house to supper.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, I will; but I will go round to the hotel and change my +clothes.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind.”</p> + +<p>“But I do mind. I don’t fancy a shabby suit as long as I can afford +to wear a good one.”</p> + +<p>Joe went to the hotel, took off his ragged clothes, put on a new and +stylish suit which he recently had made for him, donned a gold watch +and chain, and hat in the latest style, and thus dressed, his natural +good looks were becomingly set off.</p> + +<p>“How do I look now?” he asked, when he met Miss Annie Raymond at her +own door.</p> + +<p>“Splendidly, Joe. I thought you were a young swell from the city.”</p> + +<p>After supper Annie said, her eyes sparkling with mischief:</p> + +<p>“Suppose we walk over to Major Norton’s and see Oscar.”</p> + +<p>“Just what I wanted to propose.”</p> + +<p>Oscar was out in the front yard, when he caught sight of Joe and +Annie Raymond approaching. He did not at first recognize Joe, but +thought, like the young lady, that it was some swell from the city.</p> + +<p>“You see I’ve come again, Oscar,” said Joe, smiling.</p> + +<p>Oscar could not utter a word. He was speechless with astonishment.</p> + +<p>“I thought you were poor,” he uttered, at last.</p> + +<p>“I have had better luck than you thought.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose you spent all your money for those clothes.”</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken, Oscar. I am not so foolish. I left between two +and three thousand dollars in a New York bank, and I have more than +twice that in San Francisco.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t possible!” exclaimed Oscar, surprised and disappointed.</p> + +<p>“Here is my bank-book; you can look at it,” and Joe pointed to a +deposit of twenty-five hundred dollars. “I don’t think, Oscar, it +will pay me to accept your father’s offer and take my old place.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand it. How did you do it?” asked the bewildered +Oscar.</p> + +<p>“I suppose it was my luck,” said Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not wholly that,” said Annie Raymond. “It was luck and labor.”</p> + +<p>“I accept the amendment, Miss Annie.”</p> + +<p>Oscar’s manner changed at once. Joe, the successful Californian, was +very different from Joe, the hired boy. He became very attentive to +our hero, and before he left town condescended to borrow twenty +dollars of him, which he never remembered to repay. He wanted to go +back to California with Joe, but his father would not consent.</p> + +<p>When Joe returned to San Francisco, by advice of Mr. Morgan he sold +out his restaurant to Watson and took charge of Mr. Morgan’s real +estate business. He rose with the rising city, became a very rich +man, and now lives in a handsome residence on one of the hills that +overlook the bay. He has an excellent wife—our old friend, Annie +Raymond—and a fine family of children. His domestic happiness is +by no means the smallest part of Joe’s luck.</p> + + +<p>THE END</p> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOE’S LUCK OR ALWAYS WIDE AWAKE ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions + whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms + of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online + at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + +</div> + + + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/12823-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/12823-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..62009d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12823-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/old/old/12823.txt b/old/old/12823.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e5897a2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/12823.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8098 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Joe's Luck, by Horatio Alger, Jr. + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Joe's Luck + Always Wide Awake + +Author: Horatio Alger, Jr. + +Release Date: July 5, 2004 [EBook #12823] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOE'S LUCK *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + +JOE'S LUCK + +OR + +ALWAYS WIDE AWAKE + + + + +BY + +HORATIO ALGER, JR. + + + + + +AUTHOR OF + +"TONY THE TRAMP," "SLOW AND SURE," "THE CASH BOY," +"MAKING HIS WAY," "JACK'S WARD," "DO AND DARE," +"FACING THE WORLD," "STRONG AND STEADY," +"STRIVE AND SUCCEED," ETC. + + + + + +NEW YORK + +THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY + +1913 + + + + +JOE'S LUCK + + +CHAPTER I + +INTRODUCES JOE + +"Come here, you Joe, and be quick about it!" + +The boy addressed, a stout boy of fifteen, with an honest, +sun-browned face, looked calmly at the speaker. + +"What's wanted?" he asked. + +"Brush me off, and don't be all day about it!" said Oscar Norton +impatiently. + +Joe's blue eyes flashed indignantly at the tone of the other. + +"You can brush yourself off," he answered independently. + +"What do you mean by your impudence?" demanded Oscar angrily. "Have +you turned lazy all at once?" + +"No," said Joe firmly, "but I don't choose to be ordered round by +you." + +"What's up, I wonder? Ain't you our servant?" + +"I am not your servant, though your father is my employer." + +"Then you are bound to obey me--his son." + +"I don't see it." + +"Then you'd better, if you know what's best for yourself. Are you +going to brush me off?" + +"No." + +"Look out! I can get my father to turn you off." + +"You may try if you want to." + +Oscar, much incensed, went to his father to report Joe's +insubordination. While he is absent, a few words of explanation will +enlighten the reader as to Joe's history and present position. + +Joe Mason was alone in the world. A year previous he had lost his +father, his only remaining parent, and when the father's affairs were +settled and funeral expenses paid there was found to be just five +dollars left, which was expended for clothing for Joe. + +In this emergency Major Norton, a farmer and capitalist, offered to +provide Joe with board and clothes and three months' schooling in the +year in return for his services. As nothing else offered, Joe +accepted, but would not bind himself for any length of time. He was +free to go whenever he pleased. + +Now there were two disagreeable things in Joe's new place. The first +was the parsimony of Major Norton, who was noted for his stingy +disposition, and the second was the overbearing manners of Oscar, who +lost no opportunity to humiliate Joe and tyrannize over him so far as +Joe's independent spirit would allow. It happened, therefore, that +Joe was compelled to work hard, while the promised clothing was of +the cheapest and shabbiest description. He was compelled to go to +school in patched shoes and a ragged suit, which hurt his pride as he +compared himself with Oscar, who was carefully and even handsomely +dressed. Parsimonious as his father was, he was anxious that his +only boy should appear to advantage. + +On the very day on which our story begins Oscar had insulted Joe in a +way which excited our hero's bitter indignation. + +This is the way it happened: + +Joe, who was a general favorite on account of his good looks and +gentlemanly manners, and in spite of his shabby attire, was walking +home with Annie Raymond, the daughter of the village physician, when +Oscar came up. + +He was himself secretly an admirer of the young lady, but had never +received the least encouragement from her. It made him angry to see +his father's drudge walking on equal terms with his own favorite, and +his coarse nature prompted him to insult his enemy. + +"Miss Raymond," he said, lifting his hat mockingly, "I congratulate +you on the beau you have picked up." + +Annie Raymond fully appreciated his meanness, and answered calmly: + +"I accept your congratulations, Mr. Norton." + +This answer made Oscar angry and led him to go further than he +otherwise would. + +"You must be hard up for an escort, when you accept such a ragamuffin +as Joe Mason." + +Joe flushed with anger. + +"Oscar Norton, do you mean to insult Miss Raymond or me," he demanded. + +"So you are on your high horse!" said Oscar sneeringly. + +"Will you answer my question?" + +"Yes, I will. I certainly don't mean to insult Miss Raymond, but I +wonder at her taste in choosing my father's hired boy to walk with." + +"I am not responsible to you for my choice, Oscar Norton," said Annie +Raymond, with dignity. "If my escort is poorly dressed, it is not +his fault, nor do I think the less of him for it." + +"If your father would dress me better, I should be very glad of it," +said Joe. "If I am a ragamuffin, it is his fault." + +"I'll report that to him," said Oscar maliciously. + +"I wish you would. It would save me the trouble of asking him for +better clothes." + +"Suppose we go on," said Annie Raymond. + +"Certainly," said Joe politely. + +And they walked on, leaving Oscar discomfited and mortified. + +"What a fool Annie Raymond makes of herself" he muttered. "I should +think she'd be ashamed to go round with Joe Mason." + +Oscar would have liked to despise Annie Raymond, but it was out of +his power. She was undoubtedly the belle of the school, and he would +have been proud to receive as much notice from her as she freely +accorded to Joe. But the young lady had a mind and a will of her +own, and she had seen too much to dislike in Oscar to regard him with +favor, even if he were the son of a rich man, while she had the good +sense and discrimination to see that Joe, despite his ragged garb, +possessed sterling good qualities. + +When Oscar got home he sought his father. + +"Father," said he, "I heard Joe complaining to Annie Raymond that you +didn't dress him decently." + +Major Norton looked annoyed. + +"What does the boy mean?" he said. "What does he expect?" + +"He should be dressed as well as I am," said Oscar maliciously. + +"Quite out of the question," said the major hastily. "Your clothes +cost a mint of money." + +"Of course, you want me to look well, father. I am your son, and he +is only your hired boy." + +"I don't want folks to talk," said the major, who was sensitive to +public opinion. "Don't you think his clothes are good enough?" + +"Of course they are; but I'll tell you what, father," said Oscar, +with a sudden idea, "you know that suit of mine that I got stained +with acid?" + +"Yes, Oscar," said the major gravely. "I ought to remember it. It +cost me thirty-four dollars, and you spoiled it by your carelessness." + +"Suppose you give that to Joe?" suggested Oscar. + +"He's a good deal larger than you. It wouldn't fit him; and, +besides, it's stained." + +"What right has a hired boy to object to a stain? No matter if it is +too small, he has no right to be particular." + +"You are right, Oscar," said the major, who was glad to be saved the +expense of a new suit for Joe. Even he had been unpleasantly +conscious that Joe's appearance had become discreditable to him. +"You may bring it down, Oscar," he said. + +"I dare say Joe won't like the idea of wearing it, but a boy in his +position has no right to be proud." + +"Of course not," returned the major, his ruling passion gratified by +the prospect of saving the price of a suit. "When Joseph comes +home--at any rate, after he is through with his chores--you may tell +him to come in to me." + +"All right, sir." + +Before Oscar remembered this message, the scene narrated at the +commencement of the chapter occurred. On his way to complain to his +father, he recollected the message, and, retracing his steps, said to +Joe: + +"My father wants to see you right off." + +This was a summons which Joe felt it his duty to obey. He +accordingly bent his steps to the room where Major Norton usually sat. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE STAINED SUIT + +"Oscar tells me that you wish to see me, sir," said Joe, as he +entered the presence of his pompous employer. + +Major Norton wheeled round in his armchair and looked at Joe over his +spectacles. He looked at Joe's clothes, too, and it did strike him +forcibly that they were very shabby. However, there was Oscar's +stained suit; which was entirely whole and of excellent cloth. As to +the stains, what right had a boy like Joe to be particular? + +"Ahem!" said the major, clearing his throat. "Oscar tells me that +you are not satisfied with the clothes I have I given you." + +"He has told you the truth, Major Norton," replied Joe bluntly. "If +you will look for yourself, I think you will see why I am +dissatisfied." + +"Joseph," said the major, in a tone of disapproval, "you are too free +spoken. I understand you have been complaining to Doctor Raymond's +daughter of the way I dress you." + +"Did Oscar tell you the way that happened?" inquired Joe. + +"I apprehend he did not." + +"When I was walking home with Miss Annie Raymond, Oscar came up and +insulted me, calling me a ragamuffin. I told him that, if I was a +ragamuffin, it was not my fault." + +Major Norton looked disturbed. + +"Oscar was inconsiderate," he said. "It seems to me that your +clothes are suitable to your station in life. It is not well for a +boy in your circumstances to be 'clothed in purple and fine linen,' +as the Scriptures express it. However, perhaps it is time for you to +have another suit." + +Joe listened in astonishment. Was it possible that Major Norton was +going to open his heart and give him what he had long secretly +desired? + +Our hero's delusion was soon dissipated. + +Major Norton rose from his seat, and took from a chair near-by a +stained suit, which had not yet attracted Joe's attention. + +"Here is a suit of Oscar's," he said, "which is quite whole and +almost new. Oscar only wore it a month. It cost me thirty-four +dollars!" said the major impressively. + +He held it up, and Joe recognized it at once. + +"Isn't it the suit Oscar got stained?" he asked abruptly. + +"Ahem! Yes; it is a little stained, but that doesn't injure the +texture of the cloth." + +As he held it up the entire suit seemed to have been sprinkled with +acid, which had changed the color in large, patches in different +parts. The wearer would be pretty sure to excite an unpleasant +degree of attention. + +Joe did not appear to be overwhelmed with the magnificence of the +gift. + +"If it is so good, why don't Oscar wear it?" he asked. + +Major Norton regarded Joe with displeasure. + +"It cannot matter to you how Oscar chooses to dress," he said. "I +apprehend that you and he are not on a level." + +"He is your son, and I am your hired boy," said Joe. "I admit that. +But I don't see how you can ask me to wear a suit like that." + +"I apprehend that you are unsuitably proud, Joseph." + +"I hope not, sir; but I don't want to attract everybody's notice as I +walk the streets. If I had stained the suit myself, I should have +felt bound to wear it, but it was Oscar's carelessness that destroyed +its appearance, and I don't think I ought to suffer for that. +Besides, it is much too small for me. Let me show you." + +Joe pulled off his coat and put on the stained one. The sleeves were +from two to three inches too short, and it was so far from meeting in +front, on account of his being much broader than Oscar, that his +shoulders seemed drawn back to meet each other behind. + +"It doesn't exactly fit," said the major; "but it can be let out +easily. I will send it to Miss Pearce--the village tailoress--to fix +it over for you." + +"Thank you, Major Norton," said Joe, in a decided tone, "but I hope +you won't go to that expense, for I shall not be willing to wear it +under any circumstances." + +"I cannot believe my ears," said Major Norton, with dignified +displeasure. "How old are you, Joseph?" + +"Fifteen, sir." + +"It is not fitting that you, a boy of fifteen, should dictate to your +employer." + +"I don't wish to, Major Norton, but I am not willing to wear that +suit." + +"You are too proud. Your pride needs taking down." + +"Major Norton," said Joe firmly, "I should like to tell you how I +feel. You are my employer, and I am your hired boy. I try to do my +duty by you." + +"You are a good boy to work, Joseph. I don't complain of that." + +"You agreed to give me board and clothing for my services." + +"So I have." + +"Yes, sir; but you have dressed me in such a way that I attract +attention in the street for my shabbiness. I don't think I am very +proud, but I have been mortified! more than once when I saw people +looking at my patched clothes and shoes out at the toes. I think if +I work faithfully I ought to be dressed decently." + +"Joseph," said Major Norton uneasily, "you look at the thing too +one-sided. You don't expect me to dress you like Oscar?" + +"No, sir; I don't. If you would spend half as much for my clothes as +you do for Oscar's I would be contented." + +"It seems to me you are very inconsistent. Here is a suit of clothes +that cost me thirty-four dollars, which I offer you, and you decline." + +"You know why well enough, sir," said Joe, "You did not tell me you +intended to dress me in Oscar's castoff clothes, too small, and +stained at that. I would rather wear the patched suit I have on till +it drops to pieces than wear this suit." + +"You can go, Joseph," said Major Norton, in a tone of annoyance. "I +did not expect to find you so unreasonable. If you do not choose to +take what I offer you, you will have to go without." + +"Very well, sir." + +Joe left the room, his face flushed and his heart full of indignation +at the slight which had been attempted on him. + +"It is Oscar's doings, I have no doubt," he said to himself. "It is +like his meanness. He meant to mortify me." + +If there had been any doubt in Joe's mind, it would soon have been +cleared up. Oscar had been lying in wait for his appearance, and +managed to meet him as he went out into the yard. + +"Where are your new clothes?" he asked mockingly. + +"I have none," answered Joe. + +"Didn't my father give you a suit of mine?" + +"He offered me the suit which you stained so badly with acid." + +"Well, it's pretty good," said Oscar patronizingly. "I only wore it +about a month." + +"Why don't you wear it longer?" + +"Because it isn't fit for me to wear," returned Oscar. + +"Nor for me," said Joe. + +"You don't mean to say you've declined?" exclaimed Oscar, in surprise. + +"That is exactly what I have done." + +"Why?" + +"You ought to know why." + +"It is better than the one you have on." + +"It is too small for me. Besides, it would attract general +attention." + +"Seems to me somebody is getting proud," sneered Oscar. "Perhaps you +think Annie Raymond wouldn't walk with you in that suit?" + +"I think it would make ho difference to her," said Joe. "She was +willing to walk with me in this ragged suit." + +"I don't admire her taste." + +"She didn't walk with my clothes; she walked with me." + +"A hired boy!" + +"Yes, I am a hired boy; but I don't get very good pay." + +"You feel above your business, that's what's the matter with you." + +"I hope some time to get higher than my business," said Joe. "I mean +to rise in the world, if I can." + +Oscar shrugged his shoulders. + +"Perhaps you would like to be a wealthy merchant, or a member of +Congress," he said. + +"I certainly should." + +Oscar burst into a sneering laugh, and left Joe alone. + +Joe's work was done, and, being left free to do as he liked, he +strolled over to the village store. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE RETURNED CALIFORNIAN + +The village store, in the evening, was a sort of village club-house, +where not only the loungers, but a better class, who desired to pass +the evening socially, were wont to congregate. About the center of +the open space was a large box-stove, which in winter was kept full +of wood, ofttimes getting red-hot, and around this sat the villagers. +Some on wooden chairs, some on a wooden settee, with a broken back, +which was ranged on one side. + +Joe frequently came here in the evening to pass a social hour and +kill time. At the house of Major Norton he had no company. Oscar +felt above him, and did not deign to hold any intercourse with his +father's drudge, while the housekeeper--Major Norton being a +widower--was busy about her own special work, and would have wondered +at Joe if he had sought her company. I make this explanation because +I do not wish it to be understood that Joe was a common village +lounger, or loafer. + +When Joe entered the store he found the usual company present, but +with one addition. + +This was Seth Larkin, who had just returned from California, whither +he had gone eighteen months before, and was, of course, an object of +great attention, and plied with numerous questions by his old +acquaintances in regard to the land of promise in the far West, of +which all had heard so much. + +It was in the fall of the year 1851, and so in the early days of +California. + +Seth was speaking as Joe entered. + +"Is there gold in California?" repeated Seth, apparently in answer to +a question. "I should say there was. Why, it's chock full of it. +People haven't begun to find out the richness of the country. It's +the place for a poor man to go if he wants to become rich. What's +the prospects here? I ask any one of you. A man may go working and +plodding from one year's end to another and not have ten dollars at +the end of it. There's some here that know that I speak the truth." + +"How much better can a man do in California?" asked Daniel Tompkins. + +"Well, Dan," said Seth, "it depends on the kind of man he is. If +he's a man like you, that spends his money for rum as fast as he gets +it, I should say it's just as well to stay here. But if he's willing +to work hard, and to put by half he makes, he's sure to do well, and +he may get rich. Why, I knew a man that landed in California the +same day that I did, went up to the mines, struck a vein, and--well, +how much do you think that man is worth to-day?" + +"A thousand dollars?" suggested Dan Tompkins. + +"Why, I'm worth more than that myself, and I wasn't lucky, and had +the rheumatism for four months. You'll have to go higher." + +"Two thousand?" guessed Sam Stone. + +"We don't make much account of two thousand dollars in the mines, +Sam," said Seth. + +"It's of some account here," said Sam. "I've been workin' ten years, +and I ain't saved up a third of it." + +"I don't doubt it," said Seth; "and it ain't your fault, either. +Money's scarce round here, and farmin' don't pay. You know what I +was workin' at before I went out--in a shoe shop. I just about made +a poor livin', and that was all. I didn't have money enough to pay +my passage out, but I managed to borrow it. Well, it's paid now, and +I've got something left." + +"You haven't told us yet how much the man made that you was talkin' +about," said Tom Sutter. "It couldn't be five thousand dollars, now, +could it?" + +"I should say it could," said Seth. + +"Was it any more?" inquired Dan Tompkins. + +"Well, boys, I s'pose I may as well tell you, and you may b'lieve it +or not, just as you like. That man is worth twenty thousand dollars +to-day." + +There was a chorus of admiring ejaculations. + +"Twenty thousand dollars! Did you ever hear the like?" + +"Mind, boys, I don't say it's common to make so much money in so +short a time. There isn't one in ten does it, but some make even +more. What I do say is, that a feller that's industrious, and +willin' to work, an' rough it, and save what he makes, is sure to do +well, if he keeps well. That's all a man has a right to expect, or +to hope for." + +"To be sure it is." + +"What made you come home, Seth, if you were gettin' on so well?" +inquired one. + +"That's a fair question," said Seth, "and I'm willin' to answer it. +It was because of the rheumatics. I had 'em powerful bad at the +mines, and I've come home to kinder recuperate, if that's the right +word. But I'm goin' back ag'in, you may bet high on that. No more +work in the shoe shop for me at the old rates. I don't mean that I'd +mind bein' a manufacturer on a big scale. That's a little more +stiddy and easy than bein' at the mines, but that takes more capital +than I've got." + +"How much does it cost to go out there?" asked Dan Tompkins. + +"More money than you can scare together, Dan. First-class, nigh on +to three hundred dollars, I believe." + +This statement rather dampened the ardor of more than one of the +listeners. Three hundred dollars, or even two, were beyond the +convenient reach of most of those present. They would have to +mortgage their places to get it. + +"You can go second-class for a good deal less, and you can go round +the Horn pretty cheap," continued Seth. + +"How far away is Californy?" inquired Sam Stone. + +"By way of the isthmus, it must be as much as six thousand miles, and +it's twice as fur, I reckon, round the Horn. I don't exactly know +the distance." + +"Then it's farther away than Europe," said Joe, who had been +listening with eager interest. + +"Of course it is," said Seth. "Why, that's Joe Mason, isn't it? How +you've grown since I saw you." + +"Do you think I have?" said Joe, pleased with the assurance. + +"To be sure you have. Why, you're a big boy of your age. How old +are you?" + +"Fifteen---nearly sixteen." + +"That's about what I thought. Where are you livin' now, Joe?" + +"I'm working for Major Norton." + +Seth burst into a laugh. + +"I warrant you haven't made your fortune yet, Joe," he said. + +"I haven't made the first start yet toward it." + +"And you won't while you work for the major. How much does he pay +you?" + +"Board and clothes." + +"And them are the clothes?" said Seth, surveying Joe's appearance +critically. + +"Yes." + +"I guess the major's tailor's bill won't ruin him, then. Are they +the best you've got?" + +"No; I've got a better suit for Sunday." + +"Well, that's something. You deserve to do better, Joe." + +"I wish I could," said Joe wistfully. "Is there any chance for a boy +in California, Mr. Larkin?" + +"Call me Seth. It's what I'm used to. I don't often use the handle +to my name. Well, there's a chance for a boy, if he's smart; but +he's got to work." + +"I should be willing to do that." + +"Then, if you ever get the chance, it won't do you any harm to try +your luck." + +"How much did you say it costs to get there?" + +"Well, maybe you could get there for a hundred dollars, if you wasn't +particular how you went." + +A hundred dollars! It might as well have been ten thousand, as far +as Joe was concerned. He received no money wages, nor was he likely +to as long as he remained in the major's employ. There was a shoe +shop in the village, where money wages were paid, but there was no +vacancy; and, even if there were, Joe was quite unacquainted with the +business, and it would be a good while before he could do any more +than pay his expenses. + +Joe sighed as he thought how far away was the prospect of his being +able to go to California. He could not help wishing that he were the +possessor of the magic carpet mentioned in the Arabian tale, upon +which the person seated had only to wish himself to be transported +anywhere, and he was carried there in the twinkling of an eye. + +Joe walked home slowly, dreaming of the gold-fields on the other side +of the continent, and wishing he were there. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +JOE'S LEGACY + +The next day was Saturday. There was no school, but this did not +lighten Joe's labors, as he was kept at work on the farm all day. + +He was in the barn when Deacon Goodwin, a neighbor, drove up. + +Oscar was standing in front of the house, whittling out a cane from a +stick he had cut in the woods. + +"Is Joe Mason at home?" the deacon inquired. + +Oscar looked up in surprise. Why should the deacon want Joe Mason? + +"I suppose he is," drawled Oscar. + +"Don't you know?" + +"Probably he is in the barn," said Oscar indifferently. + +"Will you call him? I want to see him on business." + +Oscar was still more surprised. He was curious about the business, +but his pride revolted at the idea of being sent to summon Joe. + +"You'll find him in the barn," said he. + +"I don't want to leave my horse," said the deacon. "I will take it +as a favor if you will call him." + +Oscar hesitated. Finally he decided to go and then return to hear +what business Joe and the deacon had together. He rather hoped that +Joe had been trespassing on the deacon's grounds, and was to be +reprimanded. + +He opened the barn door and called out: + +"Deacon Goodwin wants you out at the gate." + +Joe was as much surprised as Oscar. + +He followed Oscar to the front of the house and bade the deacon good +morning. + +"Oscar tells me you want to see me," he said. + +"Yes, Joe. Do you remember your Aunt Susan?" + +"My mother's aunt?" + +"Yes; she's dead and buried." + +"She was pretty old," said Joe. + +"The old lady had a small pension," continued the deacon, "that just +about kept her, but she managed to save a little out of it. When the +funeral expenses were paid it was found that there were fifty-six +dollars and seventy-five cents over." + +"What's going to be done with it? he inquired. + +"She's left it to you," was the unexpected reply, "You was the +nearest relation she had, and it was her wish that whatever was left +should go to you." + +"I'm very much obliged to her. I didn't expect anything. I had +almost forgotten I had a great-aunt." + +"The money has been sent to me, Joe," continued the deacon. "I'm +ready to pay it over to you when you want it, but I hope you won't +spend it foolish." + +"I don't think I shall, Deacon Goodwin." + +"It wouldn't take long to spend it, Joe," said the deacon. "Do you +want me to keep it for you?" + +"I don't know," said Joe; "I haven't had time to think. I'll come +round to-night and see you." + +"Very well, Joseph. G'lang, Dobbin!" and the deacon started his old +horse, who had completed his quarter century, along the road. + +Oscar had listened, not without interest, to the conversation. +Though he was the son of a rich man, he had not at command so large a +sum as his father's hired boy had fallen heir to. On the whole, he +respected Joe rather more than when he was altogether penniless. + +"You're in luck, Joe," said he graciously. + +"Yes," said Joe. "It's very unexpected." + +"You might buy yourself a new suit of clothes." + +"I don't intend to do that." + +"Why not? You were wishing for one yesterday." + +"Because it is your father's place to keep me in clothes. That's the +bargain I made with him." + +"Perhaps you are right," said Oscar. + +"I'll tell you what you can do," he said, after a pause. + +"What?" + +"You might buy a boat." + +"I shouldn't have any time to use it." + +"You might go out with it in the evening. I would look after it in +the daytime." + +No doubt this arrangement would be satisfactory to Oscar, who would +reap all the advantage, but Joe did not see it in a favorable light. + +"I don't think I should care to buy a boat," he said. + +"What do you say to buying a revolver?" + +"I think it would be better to put it on interest." + +"You'd better get the good of it now. You might die and then what +use would the money be?" + +On the way to the deacon's Joe fell in with Seth Larkin. + +"Well, my boy, where are you bound?" asked Seth. + +"To collect my fortune," said Joe. + +Seth asked for an explanation and received it. + +"I'm glad for you and I wish it were more." + +"So do I," said Joe. + +"What for? Anything particular?" + +"Yes; if it was enough, I would go to California." + +"And you really want to go?" + +"Yes. I suppose fifty dollars wouldn't be enough?" + +"No; it wouldn't," said Seth; "but I'll tell you what you could do." + +"What?" + +"Go to New York and keep yourself till you got a chance to work your +passage round the Horn." + +"So I might," said Joe, brightening up. + +"It wouldn't be easy, but you wouldn't mind that." + +"No; I wouldn't mind that." + +"Well, if you decide to go, come round and see me to-morrow, and I'll +give you the best advice I can." + +The deacon opposed Joe's plan, but in vain. Our hero had made up his +mind. Finally the old man counted out the money and Joe put it in an +old wallet. + +The nest thing was to give Major Norton warning. + +"Major Norton," said Joe, "I should like to have you get another boy +in my place." + +"What, Joe?" exclaimed the major. + +"I am going to leave town." + +"Where are you going?" asked his employer. + +"First to New York and afterwards to California." + +"Well, I declare! Is it because you ain't satisfied with your +clothes?" + +"No, sir. I don't see much prospect for me if I stay here and I have +heard a good deal about California." + +"But you haven't got any money." + +"I have almost sixty dollars." + +"Oh, yes; Oscar told me. You'd better stay here." + +"No, sir; I have made up my mind." + +"You'll come back in a month without a cent." + +"If I do, I'll go to work again for you." + +Monday morning came. Clad in his Sunday suit of cheap and rough +cloth, Joe stood on the platform at the depot. The cars came up, he +jumped aboard, and his heart beat with exultation as he reflected +that he had taken the first step toward the Land of Gold. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE COMMERCIAL HOTEL. + +Joe had never been in New York and when he arrived the bustle and +confusion at first bewildered him. + +"Have a hack, young man?" inquired a jehu. + +"What'll you charge?" + +"A dollar and a half, and half-a-dollar for your baggage." + +"This is all the baggage I have," said Joe, indicating a bundle tied +in a red cotton handkerchief. + +"Then, I'll only charge a dollar and a half," said the hackman. + +"I'll walk," said Joe. "I can't afford to pay a dollar and a half." + +"You can't walk; it's too far." + +"How far is it?" + +"Ten miles, more or less," answered the hackman. + +"Then I shall save fifteen cents a mile," said Joe, not much alarmed, +for he did not believe the statement. + +"If you lose your way, don't blame me." + +Joe made his way out of the crowd, and paused at the corner of the +next street for reflection. Finally he stopped at an apple and +peanut stand, and, as a matter of policy, purchased an apple. + +"I am from the country," he said, "and I want to find a cheap hotel. +Can you recommend one to me?" + +"Yes," said the peanut merchant. "I know of one where they charge a +dollar a day." + +"Is that cheap? What do they charge at the St. Nicholas?" + +"Two dollars a day." + +"A day?" asked Joe, in amazement. + +It must be remembered that this was over fifty years ago. Joe would +have greater cause to be startled at the prices now asked at our +fashionable hotels. + +"Well, you can go to the cheap hotel." + +"Where is it?" + +The requisite directions were given. It was the Commercial Hotel, +located in a down-town street. + +The Commercial Hotel, now passed away, or doing business under a +changed name, was not a stylish inn. + +It was rather dark and rather dingy, but Joe did not notice that +particularly. He had never seen a fine hotel, and this structure, +being four stories in height above the offices, seemed to him rather +imposing than otherwise. + +He walked up to the desk, on which was spread out, wide open, the +hotel register. Rather a dissipated-looking clerk stood behind the +counter, picking his teeth. + +"Good morning, sir," said Joe politely. "What do you charge to stay +here?" + +"A dollar a day," answered the clerk. + +"Can you give me a room?" + +"I guess so, my son. Where is your trunk?" + +"I haven't got any." + +"Haven't you got any baggage?" + +"Here it is." + +The clerk looked rather superciliously at the small bundle. + +"Then you'll have to pay in advance." + +"All right," said Joe. "I'll pay a day in advance." + +A freckle-faced boy was summoned, provided with the key of No. 161, +and Joe was directed to follow him. + +"Shall I take your bundle?" he asked. + +"No, thank you. I can carry it myself." + +They went up-stairs, until Joe wondered when they were going to stop. +Finally the boy paused at the top floor, for the very good reason +that he could get no higher, and opened the door of 161. + +"There you are," said the boy. "Is there anything else you want?" + +"No, thank you." + +"I'm sorry there ain't a bureau to keep your clothes," said the +freckle-faced boy, glancing at Joe's small bundle with a smile. + +"It is inconvenient," answered Joe, taking the joke. + +"You wouldn't like some hot water for shaving, would you?" asked the +boy, with a grin. + +"You can have some put on to heat and I'll order it when my beard is +grown," said Joe good-naturedly. + +"All right. I'll tell 'em to be sure and have it ready in two or +three years." + +"That will be soon enough. You'd better order some for yourself at +the same time." + +"Oh, I get in hot water every day." + +The freckle-faced boy disappeared, and Joe sat down on the bed, to +reflect a little on his position and plans. + +So here he was in New York, and on the way to California, too--that +is, he hoped so. How much can happen in a little while. Three days +before he had not dreamed of any change in his position. + +"I hope I shan't have to go back again to Oakville. I won't go +unless I am obliged to," he determined. + +He washed his hands and face, and went down-stairs. He found that +dinner was just ready. It was not a luxurious meal, but, compared +with the major's rather frugal table, there was great variety and +luxury. Joe did justice to it. + +"Folks live better in the city than they do in the country," he +thought; "but, then, they have to pay for it. A dollar a day! Why, +that would make three hundred and sixty-five dollars a year!" + +This to Joe seemed a very extravagant sum to spend on one person's +board and lodging. + +"Now," thought Joe, after dinner was over, "the first thing for me to +find out is when the California steamer starts and what is the lowest +price I can go for." + +In the barroom Joe found a file of two of the New York daily papers, +and began to search for the advertisement of the California steamers. + +At last he found it. + +The steamer was to start in three days. Apply for passage and any +information at the company's offices. + +"I'll go right down there, and find out whether I've got money enough +to take me," Joe decided. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JOE BUYS A TICKET + +The office of the steamer was on the wharf from which it was to +start. Already a considerable amount of freight was lying on the +wharf ready to be loaded. Joe made his way to the office. + +"Well, boy, what's your business?" inquired a stout man with a red +face, who seemed to be in charge. + +"Is this the office of the California steamer, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"What is the lowest price for passage?" + +"A hundred dollars for the steerage." + +When Joe heard this his heart sank within him. It seemed to be the +death-blow to his hopes. He had but fifty dollars, or thereabouts, +and there was no chance whatever of getting the extra fifty. + +"Couldn't I pay you fifty dollars now and the rest as soon as I can +earn it in California?" he pleaded. + +"We don't do business in that way." + +"I'd be sure to pay it, sir, if I lived," said Joe. "Perhaps you +think I am not honest." + +"I don't know whether you are or not," said the agent cavalierly. +"We never do business in that way." + +Joe left the office not a little disheartened. + +"I wish it had been a hundred dollars Aunt Susan left me," he said to +himself. + +Joe's spirits were elastic, however. He remembered that Seth had +never given him reason to suppose that the money he had would pay his +passage by steamer. He had mentioned working his passage in a +sailing-vessel round the Horn. Joe did not like that idea so well, +as the voyage would probably last four months, instead of twenty-five +days, and so delay his arrival. + +The afternoon slipped away almost without Joe's knowledge. He walked +about, here and there, gazing with curious eyes at the streets, and +warehouses, and passing vehicles, and thinking what a lively place +New York was, and how different life was in the metropolis from what +it had been to him in the quiet country town which had hitherto been +his home. Somehow it seemed to wake Joe up, and excite his ambition, +to give him a sense of power which he had never felt before. + +"If I could only get a foothold here," thought Joe, "I should be +willing to work twice as hard as I did on the farm." + +This was what Joe thought. I don't say that he was correct. There +are many country boys who make a mistake in coming to the city. They +forsake quiet, comfortable homes, where they have all they need, to +enter some city counting-room, or store, at starvation wages, with, +at best, a very remote prospect of advancement and increased risk of +falling a prey to temptation in some of the many forms which it +assumes in a populous town. A boy needs to be strong, and +self-reliant, and willing to work if he comes to the city to compete +for the prizes of life. As the story proceeds, we shall learn +whether Joe had these necessary qualifications. + +When supper was over he went into the public room of the Commercial +Hotel, and took up a paper to read. There was a paragraph about +California, and some recent discoveries there, which he read with +avidity. + +Though Joe was not aware of it, he was closely observed by a +dark-complexioned man, dressed in rather a flashy manner. When our +hero laid down the paper this man commenced a conversation. + +"I take it you are a stranger in the city, my young friend?" he +observed, in an affable manner. + +"Yes, sir," answered Joe, rather glad to have some one to speak to. +"I only arrived this morning." + +"Indeed! May I ask from what part of the country you come?" + +"From Oakville, New Jersey." + +"Indeed! I know the place. It is quite a charming town." + +"I don't know about that," said Joe. "It's pretty quiet and +dull--nothing going on." + +"So you have come to the city to try your luck?" + +"I want to go to California." + +"Oh, I see--to the gold-diggings." + +"Have you ever been there, sir?" + +"No; but I have had many friends go there. When do you expect to +start?" + +"Why, that is what puzzles me," Joe replied frankly. "I may not be +able to go at all." + +"Why not?" + +"I haven't got money enough to buy a ticket." + +"You have got some money, haven't you?" + +"Yes--I have fifty dollars; but I need that a hundred dollars is the +lowest price for a ticket." + +"Don't be discouraged, my young friend," said the stranger, in the +most friendly manner. "I am aware that the ordinary charge for a +steerage ticket is one hundred dollars, but exceptions are sometimes +made." + +"I don't think they will make one in my case," said Joe. "I told the +agent I would agree to pay the other, half as soon as I earned it, +but he said he didn't do business in that way." + +"Of course. You are a stranger to him, don't you see? That makes +all the difference in the world. Now, I happen to be personally +acquainted with him. I am sure he would do me a favor. Just give me +the fifty dollars, and I'll warrant I'll get the ticket for you." + +Joe was not wholly without caution, and the thought of parting with +his money to a stranger didn't strike him favorably. Not that he had +any doubts as to his new friend's integrity, but it didn't seem +businesslike. + +"Can't I go with you to the office?" he suggested. + +"I think I can succeed better in the negotiation if I am alone," said +the stranger. "I'll tell you what--you needn't hand me the money, +provided you agree to take the ticket off my hands at fifty dollars +if I secure it." + +"Certainly I will, and be very thankful to you." + +"I always like to help young men along," said the stranger +benevolently. "I'll see about it to-morrow. Now, where can I meet +you?" + +"In this room. How will that do?" + +"Perfectly. I am sure I can get the ticket for you. Be sure to have +the money ready." + +"I'll be sure," said Joe cheerfully. + +"And hark you, my young friend," continued the stranger, "don't say a +word to any one of what I am going to do for you, or I might have +other applications, which I should be obliged to refuse." + +"Very well, sir. I will remember." + +Punctually at four the next day the stranger entered the room, where +Joe was already awaiting him. + +"Have you succeeded?" asked Joe eagerly. + +The stranger nodded. + +"Let us go up to your room and complete our business. For reasons +which I have already mentioned, I prefer that the transaction should +be secret." + +"All right, sir." + +Joe got his key, and led the way up-stairs. + +"I had a little difficulty with the agent," said the stranger; "but +finally he yielded, out of old friendship." He produced a large card, +which read thus: + + + CALIFORNIA STEAMSHIP COMPANY. + + THE BEARER + + Is Entitled to One Steerage Passage + + FROM + + NEW YORK TO SAN FRANCISCO + + STEAMER COLUMBUS. + + +Below this was printed the name of the agent. Joe paid over the +money joyfully. + +"I am very much obliged to you," he said gratefully. + +"Don't mention it," said the stranger, pocketing the fifty dollars. +"Good day! Sorry to leave you, but I am to meet a gentleman at five." + +He went down-stairs, and left Joe alone. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JOE GETS INTO TROUBLE + +"How lucky I have been," thought Joe, in the best of spirits. "There +wasn't one chance in ten of my succeeding, and yet I have succeeded. +Everything has turned out right. If I hadn't met this man, I +couldn't have got a ticket at half price." + +Joe found that after paying his hotel expenses, he should have a +dollar left over. This would be rather a small sum to start with in +California, but Joe didn't trouble himself much about that. + +In the course of the day Joe found himself in the upper part of the +Bowery. It seemed to him a very lively street, and he was much +interested in looking in at the shop windows as he passed. + +He was standing before a window, when a stone from some quarter +struck the pane and shivered it in pieces. + +Joe was startled, and was gazing at the scene of havoc in +bewilderment, when a stout German, the proprietor, rushed out and +seized him by the collar. + +"Aha! I have you, you young rascal!" he exclaimed furiously. "I'll +make you pay for this!" + +By this time Joe had recovered his senses. + +"Let me alone!" he exclaimed. + +"I let you know!" exclaimed the angry man. "You break my window! +You pay me five dollar pretty quick, or I send you to prison!" + +"I didn't break your window! It's a lie!" + +"You tell me I lie?" shouted the angry German. "First you break my +window, then you tell me I lie! You, one bad boy--you one loafer!" + +"I don't know who broke your window," said Joe, "but I tell you I +didn't. I was standing here, looking in, when, all at once, I heard +a crash." + +"You take me for one fool, perhaps," said his captor, puffing with +excitement. "You want to get away, hey?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"And get no money for my window?" + +By this time a crowd had collected around the chief actors in this +scene. They were divided in opinion. + +"Don't he look wicked, the young scamp?" said a thin-visaged female +with a long neck. + +"Yes," said her companion. "He's one of them street rowdies that go +around doin' mischief. They come around and pull my bell, and run +away, the villians!" + +"What's the matter, my boy?" asked a tall man with sandy hair, +addressing himself to Joe in a friendly tone. + +"This man says I broke his window." + +"How was it? Did you break it?" + +"No, sir. I was standing looking in, when a stone came from +somewhere and broke it." + +"Look here, sir," said the sandy-haired man, addressing himself to +the German, "what reason have you for charging this boy with breaking +your window?" + +"He stood shoost in front of it," said the German. + +"If he had broken it, he would have run away. Didn't that occur to +you?" + +"Some one broke mine window," said the German. + +"Of course; but a boy who threw a stone must do so from a distance, +and he wouldn't be likely to run up at once to the broken window." + +"Of course not. The man's a fool!" were the uncomplimentary remarks +of the bystanders, who a minute before had looked upon Joe as +undoubtedly guilty. + +"You've got no case at all," said Joe's advocate. "Let go the boy's +collar, or I shall advise him to charge you with assault and battery." + +"Maybe you one friend of his?" said the German. + +"I never saw the boy before in my life," said the other, "but I don't +want him falsely accused." + +"Somebody must pay for my window." + +"That's fair; but it must be the boy or man that broke it, not my +young friend here, who had no more to do with it than myself. I +sympathize with you, and wish you could catch the scamp that did it." + +At that moment a policeman came up. + +"What's the matter?" he asked. + +"My window was broke--dat's what's de matter." + +"Who broke it?" asked the policeman. + +"I caught dat boy standing outside," pointing to Joe. + +"Aha, you young rascal! I've caught you, have I? I've had my eye on +you for weeks!" + +And Joe, to his dismay, found himself collared anew. + +"I've only been in the city two days," said Joe. + +"Take him to jail!" exclaimed the German. + +And the policeman was about to march off poor Joe, when a voice of +authority stayed him. + +"Officer, release that boy!" said the sandy-haired man sternly. + +"I'll take you along, too, if you interfere." + +"Release that boy!" repeated the other sternly; "and arrest the +German for assault and battery. I charge him with assaulting this +boy!" + +"Who are you?" demanded the officer insolently. + +"My name is ------, and I am one of the new police commissioners," +said the sandy-haired man quietly. + +Never was there a quicker change from insolence to fawning. + +"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir," said the officer, instantly releasing +Joe. "I didn't know you." + +"Nor your duty, either, it appears," said the commissioner sternly. +"Without one word of inquiry into the circumstances, you were about +to arrest this boy. A pretty minister of justice you are!" + +"Shall I take this man along, sir?" asked the policeman, quite +subdued. + +At this suggestion the bulky Teuton hurried into his shop, trembling +with alarm. With great difficulty he concealed himself under the +counter. + +"You may let him go this time. He has some excuse for his conduct, +having suffered loss by the breaking of his window. As for you, +officer, unless you are more careful in future, you will not long +remain a member of the force." + +The crowd disappeared, only Joe and his advocate remaining behind. + +"I am grateful to you, sir, for your kindness," said Joe. "But for +you I should have been carried to the station-house." + +"It is fortunate I came along just as I did. Are you a stranger in +the city?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You must be careful not to run into danger. There are many perils +in the city for the in experienced." + +"Thank you, sir. I shall remember your advice." + +The next day, about two hours before the time of sailing, Joe went +down to the wharf. + +As he was going on board a man stopped him. + +"Have you got a ticket?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir," said Joe, "a steerage ticket. There it is." + +"Where did you get this?" asked the man. + +Joe told him. + +"How much did you pay for it?" + +"Fifty dollars." + +"Then you have lost your money, for it is a bogus ticket. You can't +travel on it." + +Joe stared at the other in blank dismay. The earth seemed to be +sinking under him. He realized that he had been outrageously +swindled, and that he was farther from going to California than ever. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +JOE'S LUCK CHANGES + +The intelligence that his ticket was valueless came to Joe like a +thunderbolt from a clear sky. The minute before he was in high +spirits--his prospects seemed excellent and his path bright. + +"What shall I do?" he ejaculated. + +"I can't tell you," said the officer. "One thing is clear--you can't +go to California on that ticket." + +Poor Joe! For the moment hope was dead within his breast. He had +but one dollar left and that was only half the amount necessary to +carry him back to the village where we found him at the commencement +of our story. Even if he were able to go back, he felt he would be +ashamed to report the loss of his money. The fact that he had +allowed himself to be swindled mortified him not a little. He would +never hear the last of it if he returned to Oakville. + +"No; I wouldn't go back if I could," he decided. + +"Wouldn't I like to get hold of the man that sold me the ticket!" + +He had hardly given mental expression to this wish when it was +gratified. The very man passed him and was about to cross the +gangplank into the steamer. Joe's eyes flashed, and he sprang +forward and seized the man by the arm. + +The swindler's countenance changed when he recognized Joe, but he +quickly decided upon his course. + +"What do you want, Johnny?" he asked composedly. + +"What do I want? I want my fifty dollars back." + +"I don't know what you are talking about." + +"You sold me a bogus ticket for fifty dollars," said Joe stoutly. +"Here it is. Take it back and give me my money." + +"The boy must be crazy," said the swindler. + +"Did you sell him that ticket?" inquired the officer. + +"Never saw him before in my life." + +"Ain't you mistaken, boy?" asked the officer. + +"No, sir. This is the very man." + +"Have you any business here?" asked the officer. + +"Yes," said the man; "I've taken a steerage ticket to San Francisco. +Here it is." + +"All right. Go in." + +He tore himself from Joe's grasp and went on board the steamer. Our +hero, provoked, was about to follow him, when the officer said: + +"Stand back! You have no ticket." + +"That man bought his ticket with my money." + +"That is nothing to me," said the officer. "It may be so, or you may +be mistaken." + +"I am not mistaken," said Joe. + +"You can report it to the police--that is, if you think you can prove +it. Now, stand back!" + +Poor Joe! He had been worsted in the encounter with this +arch-swindler. He would sail for San Francisco on the Columbus. +Perhaps he would make his fortune there, while Joe, whom he had so +swindled, might, within three days, be reduced to beggary. + +Joe felt that his confidence in human nature was badly shaken. +Injustice and fraud seemed to have the best of it in this world, so +far as his experience went, and it really seemed as if dishonesty +were the best policy. It is a hard awakening for a trusting boy, +when he first comes in contact with selfishness and corruption. + +Joe fell back because he was obliged to. He looked around, hoping +that he might somewhere see a policeman, for he wanted to punish the +scoundrel to whom he owed his unhappiness and loss. But, as +frequently happens, when an officer is wanted none is to be seen. + +Joe did not leave the wharf. Time was not of much value to him, and +he decided that he might as well remain and see the steamer start on +which he had fondly hoped to be a passenger. + +Meanwhile, the preparations for departure went steadily forward. +Trunks arrived and were conveyed on board; passengers, accompanied by +their friends, came, and all was hurry and bustle. + +Two young men, handsomely dressed and apparently possessed of larger +means than the great majority of the passengers, got out of a hack +and paused close to where Joe was standing. + +"Dick," said one, "I'm really sorry you are not going with me. I +shall feel awfully lonely without you." + +"I am very much disappointed, Charlie, but duty will keep me at home. +My father's sudden, alarming sickness has broken up all my plans." + +"Yes, Dick, of course you can't go." + +"If my father should recover, in a few weeks, I will come out and +join you, Charlie." + +"I hope you may be able to, Dick. By the way, how about your ticket?" + +"I shall have to lose it, unless the company will give me another in +place of it." + +"They ought to do it." + +"Yes, but they are rather stiff about it. I would sell it for a +hundred dollars." + +Joe heard this and his heart beat high. + +He pressed forward, and said eagerly: + +"Will you sell it to me for that?" + +The young man addressed as Dick looked, in surprise, at the poorly +dressed boy who had addressed him. + +"Do you want to go to California?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir," said Joe. "I am very anxious to go." + +"Do I understand you to offer a hundred dollars for my ticket?" + +"Yes, sir; but I can't pay you now." + +"When do you expect to be able to pay me, then?" + +"Not till I've earned the money in California." + +"Have you thought before of going?" + +"Yes, sir. Until an hour ago I thought that it was all arranged that +I should go. I came down here and found that the ticket I had bought +was a bogus one, and that I had been swindled out of my money." + +"That was a mean trick," said Dick Scudder indignantly. "Do you know +the man that cheated you?" + +"Yes; he is on board the steamer." + +"How much money have you got left?" + +"A dollar." + +"Only a dollar? And you are not afraid to land in California with +this sum?" + +"No, sir. I shall go to work at once." + +"Charlie," said Dick, turning to his friend, "I will do as you say. +Are you willing to take this boy into your stateroom in my place?" + +"Yes," said Charles Folsom promptly. "He looks like a good boy. I +accept him as my roommate." + +"All right," said the other. "My boy, what is your name?" + +"Joe Mason." + +"Well, Joe, here is my ticket. If you are ever able to pay a hundred +dollars for this ticket, you may pay it to my friend, Charles Folsom. +Now, I advise you both to be getting aboard, as it is nearly time for +the steamer to sail. I won't go on with you, Charlie, as I must go +back to my father's bedside." + +"Good-by, sir. God bless you!" said Joe gratefully. "Good-by, Joe, +and good luck!" + +As they went over the plank, the officer, recognizing Joe, said +roughly: + +"Stand back, boy! Didn't I tell you you couldn't go aboard without a +ticket?" + +"Here is my ticket," said Joe. + +"A first-class ticket!" exclaimed the officer, in amazement. "Where +did you get it?" + +"I bought it," answered Joe. + +"I shall go to California, after all!" thought our hero exultingly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE FIRST DAY ON BOARD + +"We will look up our stateroom first, Joe," said his new friend. "It +ought to be a good one." + +The stateroom proved to be No. 16, very well located and spacious for +a stateroom. But to Joe it seemed very small for two persons. He +was an inexperienced traveler and did not understand that life on +board ship is widely different from life on shore. His companion had +been to Europe and was used to steamer life. + +"I think, Joe," said he, "that I shall put you in the top berth. The +lower berth is considered more desirable, but I claim it on the score +of age and infirmity." + +"You don't look very old, or infirm," said Joe. + +"I am twenty-three. And you?" + +"Fifteen--nearly sixteen." + +"I have a stateroom trunk, which will just slip in under my berth. +Where is your luggage?" + +Joe looked embarrassed. + +"I don't know but you will feel ashamed of me," he said; "but the +only extra clothes I have are tied up in this handkerchief." + +Charles Folsom whistled. + +"Well," said he, "you are poorly provided. What have you got inside?" + +"A couple of shirts, three collars, two handkerchiefs, and a pair of +stockings." + +"And you are going a journey of thousands of miles! But never mind," +he said kindly. "I am not much larger than you, and, if you need it, +I can lend you. Once in California, you will have less trouble than +if you were loaded down with clothes. I must get you to tell me your +story when there is time." + +They came on deck just in time to see the steamer swing out of the +dock. + +There were some of the passengers with sober faces. They had bidden +farewell to friends and relatives whom they might not see for +years--perhaps never again. They were going to a new country, where +hardships undoubtedly awaited them, and where they must take their +chances of health and success. Some, too, feared seasickness, a +malady justly dreaded by all who have ever felt its prostrating +effects. But Joe only felt joyful exhilaration. + +"You look happy, Joe," said young Folsom. + +"I feel so," said Joe. + +"Are you hoping to make your fortune in California?" + +"I am hoping to make a living," said Joe. + +"Didn't you make a living here at home?" + +"A poor living, with no prospects ahead. I didn't mind hard work and +poor clothes, if there had been a prospect of something better by and +by." + +"Tell me your story. Where were you living?" Charles Folsom listened +attentively. + +"Major Norton didn't appear disposed to pamper you, or bring you up +in luxury, that's a fact. It would have been hard lines if, on +account of losing your aunt's legacy, you had been compelled to go +back to Oakville." + +"I wouldn't have gone," said Joe resolutely. + +"What would you have done?" + +"Stayed in New York, and got a living somehow, even if I had to black +boots in the street." + +"I guess you'll do. You've got the right spirit. It takes boys and +men like you for pioneers." + +Joe was gratified at his companion's approval. + +"Now," said Folsom, "I may as well tell you my story. I am the son +of a New York merchant who is moderately rich. I entered the +counting-room at seventeen, and have remained there ever since, with +the exception of four months spent in Europe." + +"If you are rich already, why do you go out to California?" asked Joe. + +"I am not going to the mines; I am going to prospect a little for the +firm. Some day San Francisco will be a large city. I am going to +see how soon it will pay for our house to establish a branch there." + +"I see," said Joe. + +"I shall probably go out to the mines and take a general survey of +the country; but, as you see, I do not go out to obtain employment." + +"It must be jolly not to have to work," said Joe, "but to have plenty +of money to pay your expenses." + +"Well, I suppose it is convenient. I believe you haven't a large +cash surplus?" + +"I have a dollar." + +"You've got some pluck to travel so far away from home with such a +slender capital, by Jove!" + +"I don't know that it's pluck. It's necessity." + +"Something of both, perhaps. Don't you feel afraid of what may +happen?" + +"No," said Joe. "California is a new country, and there must be +plenty of work. Now, I am willing to work and I don't believe I +shall starve." + +"That's the way to feel, Joe. At the worst, you have me to fall back +upon. I won't see you suffer." + +"It is very lucky for me. I hope I shan't give you any trouble." + +"If you do, I'll tell you of it," said Folsom, laughing. "The fact +is, I feel rather as if I were your guardian. An odd feeling that, +as hitherto I have been looked after by others. Now it is my turn to +assume authority." + +"You will find me obedient," said Joe, smiling. "Seriously, I am so +inexperienced in the way of the world that I shall consider it a +great favor if you will give me any hints you may think useful to me." + +Folsom became more and more pleased with his young charge. He saw +that he was manly, amiable, and of good principles, with only one +great fault--poverty--which he was quite willing to overlook. + +They selected their seats in the saloon, and were fortunate enough to +be assigned to the captain's table. Old travelers know that those +who sit at this table are likely to fare better than those who are +farther removed. + +While Folsom was walking the deck with an old friend, whom he had +found among the passengers, Joe went on an exploring expedition. + +He made his way to that portion of the deck appropriated to the +steerage passengers. Among them his eye fell on the man who swindled +him. + +"You here!" exclaimed the fellow in amazement. + +"Yes," said Joe, "I am here." + +"I thought you said your ticket wasn't good?" + +"It wasn't, as you very well know." + +"I don't know anything about it. How did you smuggle yourself +aboard?" + +"I didn't smuggle myself aboard at all. I came on like the rest of +the passengers." + +"Why haven't I seen you before?" + +"I am not a steerage passenger. I am traveling first-class." + +"You don't mean it!" ejaculated the fellow, thoroughly astonished. +"You told me you hadn't any more money." + +"So I did, and that shows that you were the man that sold me the +bogus ticket." + +"Nothing of the kind," said the other, but he seemed taken aback by +Joe's charge. "Well, all I can say is, that you know how to get +round. When a man or boy can travel first-class without a cent of +money, he'll do." + +"I wouldn't have come at all if I had had to swindle a poor boy out +of his money," said Joe. + +Joe walked off without receiving an answer. He took pains to +ascertain the name of the man who had defrauded him. He was entered +on the passenger-list as Henry Hogan. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE DETECTED THIEF + +"Do you expect to be seasick, Joe?" + +"I don't know, Mr. Folsom. This is the first time I have ever been +at sea." + +"I have crossed the Atlantic twice, and been sick each time. I +suppose I have a tendency that way." + +"How does it feel?" asked Joe curiously. + +Folsom laughed. + +"It cannot be described," he answered. + +"Then I would rather remain ignorant," said Joe. + +"You are right. This is a case where ignorance is bliss decidedly." + +Twenty-four hours out Folsom's anticipations were realized. He +experienced nausea and his head swam. + +Returning from a walk on deck, Joe found his guardian lying down in +the stateroom. + +"Is anything the matter, Mr. Folsom?" + +"Nothing but what I expected. The demon of the sea has me in his +gripe." + +"Can I do anything for you?" + +"Nothing at present, Joe. What art can minister to a stomach +diseased? I must wait patiently, and it will wear off. Don't you +feel any of the symptoms?" + +"Oh, no--I feel bully," said Joe. "I've got a capital appetite." + +"I hope you will be spared. It would be dismal for both of us to be +groaning with seasickness." + +"Shall I stay with you?" + +"No--go on deck. That is the best way to keep well. My sickness +won't last more than a day or two." + +The young man's expectations were realized. After forty-eight hours +he recovered from his temporary indisposition and reappeared on deck. + +He found that his young companion, had made a number of +acquaintances, and had become a general favorite through his frank +and pleasant manners. + +"I think you'll get on, Joe," said he. "You make friends easily." + +"I try to do it," said Joe modestly. + +"You are fast getting over your country greenness. Of course you +couldn't help having a share of it, having never lived outside of a +small country village." + +"I am glad you think so, Mr. Folsom. I suppose I was very green and +I haven't got over it yet, but in six months I hope to get rid of it +wholly." + +"It won't take six months at the rate you are advancing." + +Day succeeded day and Joe was not sick at all. He carried a good +appetite to every meal and entered into the pleasures of sea life +with zest. He played shuffle-board on deck, guessed daily the ship's +run, was on the alert for distant sails, and managed in one way or +another to while away the time cheerfully. + +They had got into the Gulf of Mexico, when, one day, there was an +unwonted commotion in the steerage. + +A poor German had lost forty dollars, the entire capital he was +carrying with him to the new country. + +"Some tief has rob me," he complained, in accents of mingled grief +and anger. "He has rob me of all my gold. He has not left me one +cent." + +"When did you miss the money?" inquired the first officer. + +"Just now," said the poor German. + +"When did you see it last?" + +"Last night when I went to mine bed." + +"Did you take off your clothes?" + +"No." + +"What men sleep near you?" + +The German pointed to two. The first was a German. + +"But he would not rob me. He is mine friend," he said. "He is +Fritz." + +"Who is the other man?" + +The German pointed to Henry Hogan, the same man who had defrauded Joe. + +"The man's a fool," said Hogan. "Does he mean to say a gentleman +like me would steal his paltry money?" + +"He hasn't said so," said the first officer quietly. "He only said +that you slept near him." + +"He'd better not accuse me," blustered Hogan. + +The officer was a judge of human nature, and Hogan's manner and words +made him suspect that he was really the guilty party. + +"My man," said he, "you are making a fuss before you are accused. No +charge has been made against you. The man's money has been taken, +and some one must have taken it." + +"I don't believe he ever had any," said Hogan. + +"Can you prove that you had the money?" asked the officer, addressing +the German. "Has any one on board seen it in your possession?" + +An Irishman named Riley came forward. + +"That can I do," said he. "It was only yesterday morning that I saw +the man counting his money." + +"In what denomination was the money?" + +Pat Riley scratched his head. + +"Sure I didn't know that money belonged to any denomination, sir." + +The officer smiled. + +"I mean, was it in five, or ten, or twenty dollar pieces." + +"There was four tens, sir--four gould eagles." + +"Is that right?" inquired the officer, turning to the German. + +"Yes, sir, that's what I had." + +"Then," said the officer, "it seems clearly proved that our German +friend here had the money he claims. Now, I suggest that the two men +he has said occupied bunks nearest to him shall be searched. But +first, if the man who has taken the money will come forward +voluntarily and return the same, I will guarantee that he shall +receive no punishment." + +He paused for a brief space and looked at Hogan. + +Hogan seemed uneasy, but stolid and obstinate. + +"Since my offer is not accepted," said the officer, "let the two men +be searched." + +Fritz, the young German, came forward readily. + +"I am ready," he said. + +"I am not," said Hogan. "I protest against this outrage. It is an +infringement of my rights as an American citizen. If any one dares +to lay hands on me, I will have him arrested as soon as we reach +California." + +His threat produced no effect upon the officer. At a signal two +sailors seized him, and, despite his struggles, turned his pockets +inside out. + +Among the contents were found four gold eagles. + +"It is my money!" exclaimed the poor German. + +"You lie! The money is mine!" said Hogan furiously. + +"There was a cross, which I scratched with a pin, on one piece," said +the German. "Look! see if it is there." + +Examination was made, and the scratch was found just as he described +it. + +"The money evidently belongs to the German," said the officer. "Give +it to him." + +"You are robbing me of my money," said Hogan. + +"Look here, my friend, you had better be quiet," said the officer +significantly, "or I will have you tied up to keep out of mischief. +You are getting off very well as it is. I have no doubt you have +been up to other dishonest tricks before this one." + +"That is true, sir," said Joe, speaking up for the first time. "This +is the same man who sold me a bogus ticket, two days before we +sailed, for fifty dollars." + +"It's a lie!" said Hogan. "I'll be even with you some time, boy, for +that lie of yours." + +"I don't care for the threats of such a scoundrel as you are," said +Joe undauntedly. + +"Look out for him, Joe," said Folsom. "He will try to do you a +mischief some time." + +He would have been confirmed in his opinion had he observed the +glance of hatred with which the detected thief followed his young +ward. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +JOE ARRIVES IN SAN FRANCISCO + +At the isthmus they exchanged steamers, crossing the narrow neck of +land on the backs of mules. To-day the journey is more rapidly and +comfortably made in a railroad-car. Of the voyage on the Pacific +nothing need be said. The weather was fair, and it was uneventful. + +It was a beautiful morning in early September when they came in sight +of the Golden Gate, and, entering the more placid waters of San +Francisco Bay, moored at a short distance from the town. + +"What do you think of it, Joe?" asked Charles Folsom. + +"I don't know," said Joe slowly. "Is this really San Francisco?" + +"It is really San Francisco." + +"It doesn't seem to be much built up yet," said Joe. + +In fact, the appearance of the town would hardly suggest the stately +capital of to-day, which looks out like a queen on the bay and the +ocean, and on either side opens her arms to the Eastern and Western +continents. It was a town of tents and one-story cabins, irregularly +and picturesquely scattered over the hillside, with here and there a +sawmill, where now stand some of the most prominent buildings of the +modern city. For years later there was a large mound of sand where +now the stately Palace Hotel covers two and a half acres. Where now +stand substantial business blocks, a quarter of a century since there +appeared only sandy beaches or mud-flats, with here and there a +wooden pier reaching out into the bay. Only five years before the +town contained but seventy-nine buildings--thirty-one frame, +twenty-six adobe, and the rest shanties. It had grown largely since +then, but even now was only a straggling village, with the air of +recent settlement. + +"You expected something more, Joe, didn't you?" + +"Yes," admitted Joe. + +"You must remember how new it is. Ten years, nay, five, will work a +great change in this straggling village. We shall probably live to +see it a city of a hundred thousand inhabitants." + +The passengers were eager to land. They were tired of the long +voyage and anxious to get on shore. They wanted to begin making +their fortunes. + +"What are your plans, Joe?" asked Charles Folsom. + +"I shall accept the first job that offers," said Joe. "I can't +afford to remain idle long with my small capital." + +"Joe," said the young man seriously, "let me increase your capital +for you. You can pay me back, you know, when it is convenient. +Here, take this gold piece." + +Our young hero shook his head. + +"Thank you, Mr. Folsom," he said, "you are very kind, but I think it +will be better for me to shift on what I have. Then I shall have to +go to work at once, and shall get started in my new career." + +"Suppose you can't find work?" suggested Folsom. + +"I will find it," said Joe resolutely. + +"Perhaps we might take lodgings together, Joe." + +"I can't afford it," said Joe. "You're a gentleman of property, and +I'm a poor boy who has his fortune to make. For the present I must +expect to rough it." + +"Well, Joe, perhaps you are right. At any rate, I admire your pluck +and independent spirit." + +There was a motley crowd collected on the pier and on the beach when +Joe and his friend landed. Rough, bearded men, in Mexican sombreros +and coarse attire--many in shirt-sleeves and with their pantaloons +tucked in their boots--watched the new arrivals with interest. + +"You needn't feel ashamed of your clothes, Joe," said Folsom, with a +smile. "You are better dressed than the majority of those we see." + +Joe looked puzzled. + +"They don't look as if they had made their fortunes," he said. + +"Don't judge by appearances. In a new country people are careless of +appearances. Some of these rough fellows, no doubt, have their +pockets full of gold." + +At this moment a rough-looking fellow stepped forward and said +heartily: + +"Isn't this Charles Folsom?" + +"Yes," answered Folsom, puzzled. + +"You don't remember me?" said the other, laughing. + +"Not I." + +"Not remember Harry Carter, your old chum?" + +"Good Heaven!" exclaimed Folsom, surveying anew the rough figure +before him. "You don't mean to say you are Harry Carter?" + +"The same, at your service." + +"What a transformation! Why, you used to be rather a swell and +now----" + +"Now I look like a barbarian." + +"Well, rather," said Folsom, laughing. + +"You want me to explain? Such toggery as I used to wear would be the +height of folly at the mines." + +"I hope you have had good luck," said Folsom. + +"Pretty fair," said Carter, in a tone of satisfaction. "My pile has +reached five thousand dollars." + +"And how long have you been at work?" + +"A year. I was a bookkeeper in New York on a salary of fifteen +hundred dollars a year. I used to spend all my income--the more fool +I--till the last six months, when I laid by enough to bring me out +here." + +"Then you have really bettered yourself?" + +"I should say so. I could only save up five hundred dollars a year +at the best in New York. Here I have crowded ten years into one." + +"In spite of your large outlay for clothes?" + +"I see you will have your joke. Now, what brings you out here? Are +you going to the mines?" + +"Presently, but not to dig. I came to survey the country." + +"Let me do what I can for you." + +"I will. First, what hotel shall I go to?" + +"There is the Leidesdorff House, on California Street. I'll lead you +there." + +"Thank you. Will you come, Joe?" + +"Yes, I will go to find out where it is." + +The three bent their steps to the hotel referred to. It was a shanty +compared with the magnificent hotels which now open their portals to +strangers, but the charge was ten dollars a day and the fare was of +the plainest. + +"I guess I won't stop here," said Joe, "My money wouldn't keep me +here more than an hour or two." + +"At any rate, Joe, you must dine with me," said Folsom. "Then you +may start out for yourself." + +"You must dine with me, both of you," said Carter. + +Folsom saw that he was in earnest, and accepted. + +The dinner was plain but abundant, and all three did justice to it. +Joe did not know till afterward that the dinner cost five dollars +apiece. + +After dinner the two friends sat down to talk over old times and +mutual friends, but Joe felt that there was no time for him to lose. +He had his fortune to make. Still more important, he had his living +to make, and in a place where dollars were held as cheap as dimes in +New York or Boston. + +So, emerging into the street, with his small bundle under his arm, he +bent his steps as chance directed. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +JOE FINDS A JOB + +Joe knew nothing about the streets or their names. Chance brought +him to Clay Street, between what is now Montgomery and Kearny +Streets. Outside of a low wooden building, which appeared to be a +restaurant, was a load of wood. + +"I wonder if I couldn't get the chance to saw and split that wood?" +thought Joe. + +It would not do to be bashful. So he went in. + +A stout man in an apron was waiting on the guests. Joe concluded +that this must be the proprietor. + +"Sit down, boy," said he, "if you want some dinner." + +"I've had my dinner," said Joe. "Don't you want that wood outside +sawed and split?" + +"Yes." + +"Let me do it." + +"Go ahead." + +There was a saw and saw-horse outside. The work was not new to Joe, +and he went at it vigorously. No bargain had been made, but Joe knew +so little of what would be considered a fair price that in this first +instance he chose to leave it to his employer. + +As he was at work Folsom and his friend passed by. + +"Have you found a job already?" said Folsom. + +"Yes, sir." + +"You have kept your promise, Joe. You said you would take the first +job that offered." + +"Yes, Mr. Folsom; I meant what I said." + +"Come round to the Leidesdorff House this evening and tell me how you +made out." + +"Thank you, sir, I will." + +"That seems a smart boy," said Carter. + +"Yes, he is. Help him along if you have a chance." + +"I will. I like his pluck." + +"He has no false pride. He is ready to do anything." + +"Everybody is here. You know Jim Graves, who used to have his +shingle up as a lawyer on Nassau Street?" + +"Yes. Is he here?" + +"He has been here three months. What do you think he is doing?" + +"I couldn't guess." + +"I don't think you could. He has turned drayman." Charles Folsom +gazed at his friend in wonder. + +"Turned drayman!" he exclaimed. "Is he reduced to that?" + +"Reduced to that! My dear fellow, you don't understand the use of +language. Graves is earning fifteen dollars a day at his business, +and I don't believe he made that in New York in a month." + +"Well, it is a strange state of society. Does he mean to be a +drayman all his life?" + +"Of course not. A year hence he may be a capitalist, or a lawyer +again. Meanwhile he is saving money." + +"He is a sensible man, after all; but, you see, Carter, it takes time +to adjust my ideas to things here. The first surprise was your rough +appearance." + +"There is one advantage my rough life has brought me," said Carter. +"It has improved my health. I was given to dyspepsia when I lived in +New York. Now I really believe I could digest a tenpenny nail, +or--an eating-house mince pie, which is more difficult." + +"You have steep hills in San Francisco." + +"Yes, it is something of a climb to the top of Clay Street Hill. +When you get to the top you get a fine view, though." + +Now the hill may be ascended in cars drawn up the steeply graded +sides by an endless rope running just below the surface. No such +arrangement had been thought of then. Folsom gave out when he had +completed half the ascent. + +"I'll be satisfied with the prospect from here," he said. + +Meanwhile Joe kept steadily at his task. + +"It will take me three hours and a half, possibly four," he said to +himself, after a survey of the pile. "I wonder what pay I shall +receive." + +While thus employed many persons passed him. + +One among them paused and accosted him. + +"So you have found work already?" he said. + +Looking up, Joe recognized Harry Hogan, the man who had swindled him. +He didn't feel inclined to be very social with this man. + +"Yes," said he coldly. + +"Rather strange work for a first-class passenger." + +He envied Joe because he had traveled first-class, while he had +thought himself fortunate, with the help his dishonesty gave him, in +being able to come by steerage. + +"It is very suitable employment for a boy who has no money," said Joe. + +"How much are you going to be paid for the job?" asked Hogan, with +sudden interest, for ten dollars constituted his only remaining funds. + +If his theft on shipboard had not been detected he would have been +better provided. + +"I don't know," said Joe shortly. + +"You didn't make any bargain, then?" + +"No." + +"What are you going to do next?" inquired Hogan. + +"I don't know," said Joe. + +Hogan finally moved off. + +"I hate that boy," he soliloquized. "He puts on airs for a country +boy. So he's getting too proud to talk to me, is he? We'll see, Mr. +Joseph Mason." + +Joe kept on till his task was completed, put on his coat and went +into the restaurant. + +It was the supper-hour. + +"I've finished the job," said Joe, in a businesslike tone. + +The German took a look at Joe's work. + +"You did it up good," he said. "How much you want?" + +"I don't know. What would be a fair price?" + +"I will give you some supper and five dollars." + +Joe could hardly believe his ears. Five dollars and a supper for +four hours' work! Surely he had come to the Land of Gold in very +truth. + +"Will dat do?" + +"Oh, yes," said Joe. "I didn't expect so much." + +"You shouldn't tell me dat. It isn't business." + +Joe pocketed the gold piece which he received with a thrill of +exultation. He had never received so much in value for a week's work +before. Just then a man paid two dollars for a very plain supper. + +"That makes my pay seven dollars," said Joe to himself. "If I can +get steady work, I can get rich very quick," he thought. + +There was one thing, however, that Joe did not take into account. If +his earnings were likely to be large, his expenses would be large, +too. So he might receive a good deal of money and not lay up a cent. + +"Shall you have any more work to do?" asked Joe. + +"Not shoost now," answered the German. "You can look round in a +week. Maybe I have some then." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +JOE'S HOTEL + +Before going to the Leidesdorff House to call upon his friend Folsom, +Joe thought he would try to make arrangements for the night. + +He came to the St. Francis Hotel, on the corner of Dupont and Clay +Streets. There was an outside stair that led to the balcony that ran +all round the second story. The doors of the rooms opened upon this +balcony. + +A man came out from the office. + +"Can I get lodging here?" asked Joe. + +"Yes." + +"How much do you charge?" + +"Three dollars." + +"He must take me for a millionaire," thought Joe. + +"I can't afford it," he said. + +As Joe descended the stairs he did not feel quite so rich. Six +dollars won't go far when lodging costs three dollars and supper two. + +Continuing his wanderings, Joe came to a tent, which seemed to be a +hotel in its way, for it had "Lodgings" inscribed on the canvas in +front. + +"What do you charge for lodgings?" Joe inquired. + +"A dollar," was the reply. + +Looking in, Joe saw that the accommodations were of the plainest. +Thin pallets were spread about without pillows. Joe was not used to +luxury but to sleep here would be roughing it even for him. But he +was prepared to rough it, and concluded that he might as well pass +the night here. + +"All right!" said he. "I'll be round by and by." + +"Do you want to pay in advance to secure your bed?" + +"I guess not; I'll take the risk." + +Joe went on to the Leidesdorff Hotel and was cordially received by +Mr. Folsom. + +"How much have you earned to-day, Joe?" + +"Five dollars and my supper." + +"That's good. Is the job finished?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you have nothing in view for to-morrow?" + +"No, sir; but I guess I shall run across a job." + +"Where are you going to spend the night?" + +"In a tent a little way down the street." + +"How much will they charge you?" + +"One dollar." + +"I wish my bed was large enough to hold two; you should be welcome to +a share of it. But they don't provide very wide bedsteads in this +country." + +Mr. Folsom's bed was about eighteen inches wide. + +"Thank you, sir," said Joe; "I shall do very well in the tent, I am +sure." + +"I am thinking of making a trip to the mines with my friend Carter," +continued Folsom. "Very likely we shall start to-morrow. Do you +want to go with us?" + +"I expect to go to the mines," said Joe, "but I think I had better +remain awhile in San Francisco, and lay by a little money. You know +I am in debt." + +"In debt?" + +"Yes, for my passage. I should like to pay that off." + +"There is no hurry about it, Joe." + +"I'd like to get it off my mind, Mr. Folsom." + +About nine o'clock Joe left the hotel and sought the tent where he +proposed to pass the night. He was required to pay in advance, and +willingly did so. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +JOE'S SECOND DAY + +Joe woke up at seven o'clock the next morning. Though his bed was +hard, he slept well, for he was fatigued. He stretched himself and +sat up on his pallet. It is needless to say that he had not +undressed. Three or four men were lying near him, all fast asleep +except one, and that one he recognized as Henry Hogan. + +"Halloo!" said Hogan. "You here?" + +"Yes," said Joe, not overpleased at the meeting. + +"We seem to keep together," said Hogan, with a grin. + +"So it seems," said Joe coldly. + +Hogan, however, seemed disposed to be friendly. + +"Pretty rough accommodations for the money." + +"It doesn't make so much difference where money is earned easily." + +"How much money did you make yesterday?" + +Joe's first thought was to tell him it was none of his business, but +he thought better of it. + +"I made seven dollars," said he, rather proudly. + +"Pretty good, but I beat you," said Hogan. + +"How much did you make?" + +"I'll show you." + +Hogan showed five half-eagles. + +"I made it in ten minutes," he said. + +Joe was decidedly mystified. + +"You are fooling me," he said. + +"No, I am not. I made it at the gaming-table." + +"Oh!" said Joe, a little startled, for he had been brought up to +think gambling wicked. + +"Better come and try your luck with me," said Hogan. "It is easier +and quicker than sawing wood." + +"Perhaps it is," said Joe, "but I'd rather saw wood." + +"I suspect you are a young Puritan." + +"Perhaps I am," said Joe. "At any rate, I don't mean to gamble." + +"Just as you like. I can't afford to be so particular." + +"You don't seem to be very particular," said Joe. + +"What do you mean?" inquired Hogan suspiciously. + +"You know well enough," said Joe. "You know the way you had of +getting money in New York. You know the way you tried to get it on +board the steamer." + +"Look here, young fellow," said Hogan menacingly, "I've heard enough +of this. You won't find it safe to run against me. I'm a tough +customer, you'll find." + +"I don't doubt it," said Joe. + +"Then just be careful, will you? I ain't going to have you slander +me and prejudice people against me, and I mean to protect myself. Do +you understand me?" + +"I think I do, Mr. Hogan, but I don't feel particularly alarmed." + +Joe got up and went out in search of breakfast. Be thought of the +place where he took supper but was deterred from going there by the +high prices. + +"I suppose I shall have to pay a dollar for my breakfast," he +thought, "but I can't afford to pay two. My capital is reduced to +five dollars and I may not be able to get anything to do to-day." + +Joe finally succeeded in finding a humble place where for a dollar he +obtained a cup of coffee, a plate of cold meat, and as much bread as +he could eat. + +"I shall have to make it do with two meals a day," thought our hero. +"Then it will cost me three dollars a day to live, including lodging, +and I shall have to be pretty lucky to make that." + +After breakfast Joe walked about the streets, hoping that something +would turn up. But his luck did not seem to be so good as the day +before. Hour after hour passed and no chance offered itself. As he +was walking along feeling somewhat anxious, he met Hogan. + +"Lend me a dollar," said Hogan quickly. "I'm dead broke." + +"Where has all your money gone?" asked Joe, + +"Lost it at faro. Lend me a dollar and I'll win it all back." + +"I have no money to spare," said Joe decidedly. + +"Curse you for a young skinflint!" said Hogan, scowling. "I'll get +even with you yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE FOILED ASSASSIN + +About four o'clock Joe went into a restaurant and got some dinner. +In spite of his wish to be economical, his dinner bill amounted to a +dollar and a half, and now his cash in hand was reduced to two +dollars and a half. + +Joe began to feel uneasy. + +"This won't do," he said to himself. "At this rate I shall soon be +penniless. I must get something to do." + +In the evening he strolled down Montgomery Street to Telegraph Hill. +It was not a very choice locality, the only buildings being shabby +little dens, frequented by a class of social outlaws who kept +concealed during the day but came out at night--a class to which the +outrages frequent at this time were rightly attributed. + +Joe was stumbling along the uneven path, when all at once he found +himself confronted by a tall fellow wearing a slouched hat. The man +paused in front of him, but did not say a word. Finding that he was +not disposed to move aside, Joe stepped aside himself. He did not as +yet suspect the fellow's purpose. He understood it, however, when a +heavy hand was laid on his shoulder. + +"Quick, boy, your money!" said the ruffian. + +Having but two dollars and a half, Joe naturally felt reluctant to +part with it, and this gave him the courage to object. + +"I've got none to spare," he said and tried to tear himself away. + +His resistance led the fellow to suspect that he had a considerable +sum with him. Joe felt himself seized and carried into a den close +by, which was frequented by thieves and desperate characters. + +There was a counter, on which was set a dim oil-lamp. There were a +few bottles in sight, and a villainous-looking fellow appeared to +preside over the establishment. The latter looked up as Joe was +brought in. + +"Who have you there?" asked the barkeeper. + +"A young cove as don't want to part with his money." + +"You'd better hand over what you've got, young 'un." + +Joe looked from one to the other and thought he had never seen such +villainous faces before. + +"What are you lookin' at?" demanded his captor suspiciously, "You +want to know us again, do you? Maybe you'd like to get us hauled up, +would you?" + +"I don't want ever to set eyes on you again." + +"That's the way to talk. As soon as our business is over, there +ain't no occasion for our meetin' again. Don't you go to point us +out, or----" + +He didn't finish the sentence, but whipped out a long knife, which +made any further remarks unnecessary. + +Under the circumstances, resistance would be madness and Joe drew out +his money. + +"Is that all you've got?" demanded the thief. + +"Every cent," said Joe. "It won't leave me anything to pay for my +night's lodging." + +"Then you can sleep out. I've done it many a time. But I'll take +the liberty of searching you, and seeing if you tell the truth or +not." + +"Just as you like," said Joe. + +Joe was searched, but no more money was found. + +"The boy's told the truth," said his captor. "Two dollars and a half +is a pretty small haul." + +"I am sorry, gentlemen, that I haven't anything more. It isn't my +fault, for I've tried hard to get something to do to-day, and +couldn't." + +"You're a cool customer," said the barkeeper. + +"I expect to be to-night, for I shall have to sleep out." + +"You can go," said his captor, as he opened the door of the den; "and +don't come round here again, unless you've got more money with you." + +"I don't think I shall," said Joe. + +When Joe found himself penniless, he really felt less anxious than +when he had at least money enough to pay for lodging and breakfast. +Having lost everything, any turn of fortune must be for the better. + +"Something has got to turn up pretty quick," thought Joe. "It's just +as well I didn't get a job to-day. I should only have had more money +to lose." + +He had not walked a hundred feet when his attention was called to the +figure of a gentleman walking some rods in front of him. He saw it +but indistinctly, and would not have given it a second thought had he +not seen that the person, whoever he might be, was stealthily +followed by a man who in general appearance resembled the rascal who +had robbed him of his money. The pursuer carried in his hand a +canvas bag filled with sand. This, though Joe did not know it, was a +dangerous weapon in the hands of a lawless human. Brought down +heavily upon the head of an unlucky traveler, it often produced +instant death, without leaving any outward marks that would indicate +death from violence. + +Though Joe didn't comprehend the use of the sand-bag, his own recent +experience and the stealthy movement of the man behind convinced him +that mischief was intended. He would have been excusable if, being +but a boy and no match for an able-bodied ruffian, he had got out of +the way. But Joe had more courage than falls to the share of most +boys of sixteen. He felt a chivalrous desire to rescue the +unsuspecting stranger from the peril that menaced him. + +Joe, too, imitating the stealthy motion of the pursuer, swiftly +gained upon him, overtaking him just as he had the sand-bag poised +aloft, ready to be brought down upon the head of the traveler. + +With a cry, Joe rushed upon the would-be assassin, causing him to +stumble and fall, while the gentleman in front turned round in +amazement. + +Joe sprang to his side. + +"Have you a pistol?" he said quickly. + +Scarcely knowing what he did, the gentleman drew out a pistol and put +it in Joe's hand. Joe cocked it, and stood facing the ruffian. + +The desperado was on his feet, fury in his looks and a curse upon his +lips. He swung the sand-bag aloft. + +"Curse you!" he said. "I'll make you pay for this!" + +"One step forward," said Joe, in a clear, distinct voice, which +betrayed not a particle of fear, "and I will put a bullet through +your brain!" + +The assassin stepped back. He was a coward, who attacked from +behind. He looked in the boy's resolute face, and he saw he was in +earnest. + +"Put down that weapon, you whipper-snapper!" + +"Not much!" answered Joe. + +"I've a great mind to kill you!" + +"I've no doubt of it," said our hero; "but you'd better not attack +me. I am armed, and I will fire if you make it necessary. Now, turn +round and leave us." + +"Will you promise not to shoot?" + +"Yes, if you go off quietly." + +The order was obeyed, but not very willingly. + +When the highwayman had moved off, Joe said: + +"Now, sir, we'd better be moving, and pretty quickly, or the fellow +may return, with some of his friends, and overpower us. Where are +you stopping?" + +"At the Waverly House." + +"That is near-by. We will go there at once." + +They soon reached the hotel, a large wooden building on the north +side of Pacific Street. + +Joe was about to bid his acquaintance good night but the latter +detained him. + +"Come in, my boy," he said. "You have done me a great service. I +must know more of you." + +CHAPTER XVI + +JOE'S NEW FRIEND + +"Come up to my room," said the stranger. + +He obtained a candle at the office, gas not being used in San +Francisco at that time, and led the way to a small chamber on the +second floor. + +"Now, sit down, my boy, and tell me your name." + +"Joseph Mason." + +"How long have you been here?" + +"Less than a week." + +"I only arrived yesterday. But for your help, my residence might +have been a brief one." + +"I am glad I have been able to be of service to you." + +"You were a friend in need, and a friend in need is a friend indeed. +It is only fair that I should be a friend to you. It's a poor rule +that doesn't work both ways." + +Joe was favorably impressed with the speaker's appearance. He was a +man of middle height, rather stout, with a florid complexion, and an +open, friendly face. + +"Thank you, sir," he said, "I need a friend, and shall be glad of +your friendship." + +"Then here's my hand. Take it, and let us ratify our friendship." + +Joe took the proffered hand and shook it cordially. + +"My name is George Morgan," said the stranger. "I came from +Philadelphia. Now we know each other. Where are you staying?" + +Joe's face flushed and he looked embarrassed. + +"Just before I came up with you," he answered, thinking frankness +best, "I was robbed of two dollars and a half, all the money I had in +this world. I shall have to stop in the streets to-night." + +"Not if I know it," said Morgan emphatically. "This bed isn't very +large, but you are welcome to a share of it. To-morrow we will form +our plans." + +"Shan't I inconvenience you, sir?" asked Joe. + +"Not a bit," answered Morgan heartily. + +"Then I will stay, sir, and thank you. After the adventure I have +had to-night, I shouldn't enjoy being out in the streets." + +"Tell me how you came to be robbed. Was it by the same man who made +the attack upon me?" + +"No, sir. I wish it had been, as then I should feel even with him. +It was a man that looked very much like him, though." + +Joe gave an account of the robbery, to which his new friend listened +with attention. + +"Evidently," he said, "the street we were in is not a very safe one. +Have you had any supper?" + +"Oh, yes, sir. Luckily, I got that and paid for it before I had my +money taken." + +"Good. Now, as I am tired, I will go to bed, and you can follow when +you feel inclined." + +"I will go now, sir. I have been walking the streets all day, in +search of work, and, though I found none, I am tired, all the same." + +They woke up at seven o'clock. + +"How did you rest, Joe?" asked George Morgan. + +"Very well, sir." + +"Do you feel ready for breakfast?" + +"As soon as I can earn money enough to pay for it." + +"Don't trouble yourself about that. You are going to breakfast with +me." + +"You are very kind, Mr. Morgan, but I wish you had some work for me +to do, so that I could pay you." + +"That may come after awhile. It might not be safe to delay your +breakfast till you could pay for it. Remember, you have done me a +great service, which fifty breakfasts couldn't pay for." + +"Don't think of that, Mr. Morgan," said Joe modestly. "Anybody would +do what I did." + +"I am not sure whether everybody would have the courage. But you +must leave me to show my appreciation of your services in my own way." + +They took breakfast in the hotel and walked out. + +Though it was early, the town was already astir. People got up early +in those days. Building was going on here and there. Draymen were +piloting heavy loads through the streets--rough enough in general +appearance, but drawn from very unlikely social grades. + +"By Jove!" said Morgan, in surprise, his glance resting on a young +man of twenty-five, who was in command of a dray. "Do you hear that +drayman?" + +"Is he a foreigner?" asked Joe. "I don't understand what he is +saying." + +"He is talking to his horse in Greek, quoting from Homer. Look here, +my friend!" he said, hailing the drayman. + +"What is it, sir?" said the young man courteously. + +"Didn't I hear you quoting Greek just now?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"How happens it that a classical scholar like you finds himself in +such a position?" + +The young man smiled. + +"How much do you think I am earning?" + +"I can't guess. I am a stranger in this city." + +"Twenty dollars a day." + +"Capital! I don't feel as much surprised as I did. Are you a +college graduate?" + +"Yes, sir. I was graduated at Yale. Then I studied law and three +months since I came out here. It takes time to get into practise at +home and I had no resources to fall back upon. I raised money enough +to bring me to California and came near starving the first week I was +here. I couldn't wait to get professional work, but I had an offer +to drive a dray. I am a farmer's son and was accustomed to hard work +as a boy. I accepted the offer and here I am. I can lay up half my +earnings and am quite satisfied." + +"But you won't be a drayman all your life?" + +"Oh, no, sir. But I may as well keep at it till I can get into +something more to my taste." + +And the young lawyer drove off. + +"It's a queer country," said Morgan. "It's hard to gauge a man by +his occupation here, I see." + +"I wish I could get a dray to drive," said Joe. + +"You are not old enough or strong enough yet. I am looking for some +business myself, Joe, but I can't at all tell what I shall drift +into. At home I was a dry-goods merchant. My partner and I +disagreed and I sold out to him. I drew ten thousand dollars out of +the concern, invested four-fifths of it, and have come out here with +the remainder, to see what I can do." + +"Ten thousand dollars! What a rich man you must be!" said Joe. + +"In your eyes, my boy. As you get older, you will find that it will +not seem so large to you. At any rate, I hope to increase it +considerably." + +They were walking on Kearny Street, near California Street, when +Joe's attention was drawn, to a sign: + + THIS RESTAURANT FOR SALE + +It was a one-story building, of small dimensions, not fashionable, +nor elegant in its appointments, but there wasn't much style in San +Francisco at that time. + +"Would you like to buy out the restaurant?" asked Morgan. + +"I don't feel like buying anything out with empty pockets," said Joe. + +"Let us go in." + +The proprietor was a man of middle age. + +"Why do you wish to sell out?" asked Morgan. + +"I want to go to the mines. I need an out-of-door life and want a +change." + +"Does this business pay?" + +"Sometimes I have made seventy-five dollars profit in a day." + +"How much do you ask for the business?" + +"I'll take five hundred dollars, cash." + +"Have you a reliable cook?" + +"Yes. He knows his business." + +"Will he stay?" + +"For the present. If you want a profitable business, you will do +well to buy." + +"I don't want it for myself. I want it for this young man." + +"For this boy?" asked the restaurant-keeper, surprised. + +Joe looked equally surprised. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +JOE STARTS IN BUSINESS + +"Do you think you can keep a hotel, Joe?" asked Morgan. + +"I can try," said Joe promptly. + +"Come in, gentlemen," said the restaurant-keeper. + +"We can talk best inside." + +The room was small, holding but six tables. In the rear was the +kitchen. + +"Let me see your scale of prices," said Morgan. + +It was shown him. + +"I could breakfast cheaper at Delmonico's," he said. + +"And better," said the proprietor of the restaurant; "but I find +people here willing to pay big prices, and, as long as that's the +case, I should be a fool to reduce them. Yes, there's a splendid +profit to be made in the business. I ought to charge a thousand +dollars, instead of five hundred." + +"Why don't you?" asked Morgan bluntly. + +"Because I couldn't get it. Most men, when they come out here, are +not content to settle down in the town. They won't be satisfied till +they get to the mines." + +"That seems to be the case with you, too." + +"It isn't that altogether. My lungs are weak and confinement isn't +good for me. Besides, the doctors say the climate in the interior is +better for pulmonary affections." + +"What rent do you have to pay?" + +"A small ground-rent. I put up this building myself." + +"How soon can you give possession?" + +"Right off." + +"Will you stay here three days, to initiate my young friend into the +mysteries of the business?" + +"Oh, yes; I'll do that willingly." + +"Then I will buy you out." + +In five minutes the business was settled. + +"Joe," said Morgan, "let me congratulate you. You are now one of the +business men of San Francisco." + +"It seems like a dream to me, Mr. Morgan," said Joe. "This morning +when I waked up I wasn't worth a cent." + +"And now you own five hundred dollars," said Mr. Morgan, laughing. + +"That wasn't exactly the way I thought of it, sir, but are you not +afraid to trust me to that amount?" + +"No, I am not, Joe," said Morgan seriously. "I think you are a boy +of energy and integrity. I don't see why you shouldn't succeed." + +"Suppose I shouldn't?" + +"I shall not trouble myself about the loss. In all probability, you +saved my life last evening. That is worth to me many times what I +have invested for you." + +"I want to give you my note for the money," said Joe. "If I live, I +will pay you, with interest." + +"I agree with you. We may as well put it on a business basis." + +Papers were drawn up, and Joe found himself proprietor of the +restaurant. He lost no opportunity of mastering the details of the +business. He learned where his predecessor obtained his supplies, +what prices he paid, about how much he required for a day's +consumption, and what was his scale of prices. + +"Do you live here, Mr. Brock?" asked Joe. + +"Yes; I have a bed, which I lay in a corner of the restaurant. Thus +I avoid the expense of a room outside, and am on hand early for +business." + +"I'll do the same," said Joe promptly. + +"In that way you will have no personal expenses, except clothing and +washing," said Brock. + +"I shall be glad to have no bills to pay for board," said Joe. +"That's rather a steep item here." + +"So it is." + +"I don't see but I can save up pretty much all I make," said Joe. + +"Certainly you can." + +In two days Joe, who was naturally quick and whose natural shrewdness +was sharpened by his personal interest, mastered the details of the +business, and felt that he could manage alone. + +"Mr. Brock," said he, "you promised to stay with me three days, but I +won't insist upon the third day. I think I can get along well +without you." + +"If you can, I shall be glad to leave you at once. The fact is, a +friend of mine starts for the mines to-morrow, and I would like to +accompany him. I asked him to put it off a day, but he thinks he +can't." + +"Go with him, by all means. I can get along." + +So, on the morning of the third day, Joe found himself alone. + +At the end of the first week he made a careful estimate of his +expenses and receipts, and found, to his astonishment, that he had +cleared two hundred dollars. It seemed to him almost incredible, and +he went over the calculations again and again. But he could figure +out no other result. + +"Two hundred dollars in one week!" he said to himself. "What would +Oscar say to that? It seems like a fairy tale." + +Joe did not forget that he was five hundred dollars In debt. He went +to George Morgan, who had bought out for himself a gentlemen's +furnishing store, and said: + +"Mr. Morgan, I want to pay up a part of that debt." + +"So soon, Joe? How much do you want to pay?" + +"A hundred and fifty dollars." + +"You don't mean to say that you have cleared that amount?" said +Morgan, in amazement. + +"Yes, sir, and fifty dollars more." + +"Very well. I will receive the money. You do well to wipe out your +debts as soon as possible." + +Joe paid over the money with no little satisfaction. + +Without going too much into detail, it may be stated that at the end +of a month Joe was out of debt and had three hundred dollars over. +He called on the owner of the land to pay the monthly ground-rent. + +"Why don't you buy the land, and get rid of the rent?" asked the +owner. + +"Do you want to sell?" asked Joe. + +"Yes; I am about to return to the East." + +"What do you ask?" + +"I own two adjoining lots. You may have them all for a thousand +dollars." + +"Will you give me time?" + +"I can't. I want to return at once, and I must have the cash." + +A thought struck Joe. + +"I will take three hours to consider," said Joe. + +He went to George Morgan and broached his business. + +"Mr. Morgan," he said, "will you lend me seven hundred dollars?" + +"Are you getting into pecuniary difficulties, Joe?" asked Morgan, +concerned. + +"No, sir; but I want to buy some real estate." + +"Explain yourself." + +Joe did so. + +"It is the best thing you can do," said Morgan, "I will lend you the +money." + +"I hope to repay it inside of two months," said Joe. + +"I think you will, judging from what you have done already." + +In two hours Joe had paid over the entire amount, for it will be +remembered that he had three hundred dollars of his own, and was +owner of three city lots. + +"Now," thought he, "I must attend to business, and clear off the debt +I have incurred. I shan't feel as if the land is mine till I have +paid for it wholly." + +Joe found it a great advantage that he obtained his own board and +lodging free. Though wages were high, the necessary expenses of +living were so large that a man earning five dollars a day was worse +off oftentimes than one who was earning two dollars at the East. + +"How shall I make my restaurant more attractive?" thought Joe. + +He decided first that he would buy good articles and insist upon as +much neatness as possible about the tables. At many of the +restaurants very little attention was paid to this, and visitors who +had been accustomed to neatness at home were repelled. + +Soon Joe's dining-room acquired a reputation, and the patronage +increased. At the end of the third month he had not only paid up the +original loan of seven hundred dollars, but was the owner of the +three lots, and had four hundred dollars over. He began to feel that +his prosperity was founded on a solid basis. + +One day about this time, as he was at the desk where he received +money from his patrons as they went out, his attention was drawn to a +rough fellow, having the appearance of a tramp, entering at the door. +The man's face seemed familiar to him, and it flashed upon him that +it was Henry Hogan, who had defrauded him in New York. + +The recognition was mutual. + +"You here?" he exclaimed, in surprise. + +"So it seems," said Joe. + +"Is it a good place?" + +"I like it." + +"Who's your boss?" + +"Myself." + +"You don't mean to say this is your own place?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"Well, I'll be blowed!" ejaculated Hogan, staring stupidly at Joe. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +MR. HOGAN'S PROPOSAL + +Joe enjoyed Hogan's amazement. He felt rather proud of his rapid +progress. It was not four months since, a poor, country boy, he had +come up to New York, and fallen a prey to a designing sharper. Now, +on the other side of the continent, he was master of a business and +owner of real estate. + +The day has passed for such rapid progress. California is no longer +a new country, and the conditions of living closely approximate those +in the East. I am careful to say this because I don't wish to +mislead my young readers. Success is always attainable by pluck and +persistency, but the degree is dependent on circumstances. + +"How have you made out?" asked Joe of his visitor. + +"I've had hard luck," grumbled Hogan, "I went to the mines, but I +wasn't lucky." + +"Was that the case with other miners?" asked Joe, who had a shrewd +suspicion that Hogan's ill luck was largely the result of his +laziness and want of application. + +"No," said Hogan. "Other men around me were lucky, but I wasn't." + +"Perhaps your claim was a poor one." + +"It was, as long as I had anything to do with it," said Hogan. "I +sold it out for a trifle and the next day the other man found a +nugget. Wasn't that cursed hard?" he grumbled. + +"You ought to have kept on. Then you would have found the nugget." + +"No, I shouldn't. I am too unlucky. If I had held on, it wouldn't +have been there. You've got on well. You're lucky." + +"Yes; I have no reason to complain. But I wasn't lucky all the time. +I was robbed of every cent of money, when I met a good friend, who +bought this business for me." + +"Does it pay?" asked the other eagerly. + +"Yes, it pays," said Joe cautiously. + +"How much do you make, say, in a week?" asked Hogan, leaning his +elbows on the counter and looking up in Joe's face. + +"Really, Mr. Hogan," said Joe, "I don't feel called upon to tell my +business to others." + +"I thought maybe you'd tell an old friend," said Hogan. + +Joe could not help laughing at the man's matchless impudence. + +"I don't think you have treated me exactly like a friend, Mr. Hogan," +he said. "You certainly did all you could to prevent my coming to +California." + +"There's some mistake about that," said Hogan. + +"You're under a misapprehension; but I won't go into that matter now. +Will you trust me for my supper?" + +"Yes," said Joe promptly. "Sit down at that table." + +The man had treated him badly, but things had turned out favorably +for Joe, and he would not let Hogan suffer from hunger, if he could +relieve him. + +Hogan needed no second invitation. He took a seat at a table +near-by, and ate enough for two men, but Joe could not repeat the +invitation he had given. He felt that he could not afford it. + +It was rather late when Hogan sat down. When he finished, he was the +only one left in the restaurant, except Joe. He sauntered up to the +desk. + +"You've got a good cook," said Hogan, picking his teeth with a knife. + +"Yes," answered Joe. "I think so." + +"You say the business pays well?" + +"Yes; it satisfies me." + +"Are you alone? Have you no partner?" + +"You could do better with one. Suppose you take me into business +with you?" + +Joe was considerably surprised at this proposition from a man who had +swindled him. + +"How much capital can you furnish?" he asked. + +"I haven't got any money. I'm dead broke," said Hogan, "but I can +give my services. I can wait on the table. I'll do that, and you +can give me my board and one-third of the profits. Come, now, that's +a good offer. What do you say?" + +Joe thought it best to be candid. + +"I don't want any partner, Mr. Hogan," he said; "and I may as well +tell you, I don't think I should care to be associated with you if I +did." + +"Do you mean to insult me?" asked Hogan, scowling. + +"No; but I may as well be candid." + +"What's the matter with me?" asked Hogan roughly. + +"I don't like the way you do business," said Joe. + +"Look here, young one, you put on too many airs just because you're +keepin' a one-horse restaurant," said Hogan angrily. + +"If it's a one-horse restaurant, why do you want to become my +partner?" retorted Joe coolly. + +"Because I'm hard up--I haven't got a cent." + +"I'm sorry for you; but a man needn't be in that condition long here." + +"Where do you sleep?" asked Hogan suddenly. + +"Here. I put a bed on the floor in one corner, and so am on hand in +the morning." + +"I say," Hogan continued insinuatingly, "won't you let me stay here +to-night?" + +"Sleep here?" + +"Yes." + +"I'd rather not, Mr. Hogan." + +"I haven't a cent to pay for a lodging. If you don't take me in, I +shall have to stay in the street all night." + +"You've slept out at the mines, haven't you?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you can do it here." + +"You're hard on a poor man," whined Hogan. "It wouldn't cost you +anything to let me sleep here." + +"No, it wouldn't," said Joe; "but I prefer to choose my own company +at night." + +"I may catch my death of cold," said Hogan. + +"I hope not; but I don't keep lodgings," said Joe firmly. + +"You haven't any feeling for an unlucky man." + +"I have given you your supper, and not stinted you in any way. What +you ate would cost two dollars at my regular prices. I wasn't called +to do it, for you never did me any service, and you are owing me +to-day fifty dollars, which you cheated me out of when I was a poor +boy. I won't let you lodge here, but I will give you a breakfast in +the morning, if you choose to come round. Then you will be +strengthened for a day's work, and can see what you can find to do." + +Hogan saw that Joe was in earnest and walked out of the restaurant, +without a word. + +When Joe was about to close his doors for the night his attention was +drawn to a man who was sitting down on the ground, a few feet +distant, with his head buried between his two hands, in an attitude +expressive of despondency. + +Joe was warm-hearted and sympathetic, and, after a moment's +hesitation, addressed the stranger. + +"Is anything the matter with you, sir?" he asked. "Don't you feel +well?" + +The man addressed raised his head. He was a stout, strongly built +man, roughly dressed, but had a look which inspired confidence. + +"I may as well tell you, boy," he answered, "though you can't help +me. I've been a cursed fool, that's what's the matter." + +"If you don't mind telling me," said Joe gently, "perhaps I can be of +service to you." + +The man shook his head. + +"I don't think you can," he said, "but I'll tell you, for all that. +Yesterday I came up from the mines with two thousand dollars. I was +about a year getting it together, and to me it was a fortune. I'm a +shoemaker by occupation, and lived in a town in Massachusetts, where +I have a wife and two young children. I left them a year ago to go +to the mines. I did well, and the money I told you about would have +made us all comfortable, if I could only have got it home." + +"Were you robbed of it?" asked Joe, remembering his own experience. + +"Yes; I was robbed of it, but not in the way you are thinking of. A +wily scoundrel induced me to enter a gambling-den, the Bella Union, +they call it. I wouldn't play at first, but soon the fascination +seized me. I saw a man win a hundred dollars, and I thought I could +do the same, so I began, and won a little. Then I lost, and played +on to get my money back. In just an hour I was cleaned out of all I +had. Now I am penniless, and my poor family will suffer for my +folly." + +He buried his face in his hands once more and, strong man as he was, +he wept aloud. + +"Have you had any supper, sir?" said Joe compassionately. + +"No; but I have no appetite." + +"Have you any place to sleep?" + +"No." + +"Then I can offer you a supper and a night's lodging. Don't be +discouraged. In the morning we can talk the matter over, and see +what can be done." + +The stranger rose and laid his hand on Joe's arm. + +"I don't know how it is," he said, "but your words give me courage. +I believe you have saved my life. I have a revolver left and I had a +mind to blow my brains out." + +"Would that have helped you or your family?" + +"No, boy. I was a fool to think of it. I'll accept your offer, and +to-morrow I'll see what I can do. You're the best friend I've met +since I left home." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE UNLUCKY MINER + +Joe brought out some cold meat and bread and butter, and set it +before his guest. + +"The fire's gone out," he said, "or I would give you some tea. Here +is a glass of milk, if you like it." + +"Thank you, boy," said his visitor. "Milk is good enough for +anybody. One thing I can say, I've steered clear of liquor. A +brother of mine was intemperate and that was a warning to me. I took +credit to myself for being a steady-going man, compared with many of +my acquaintances out at the mines. But it don't do to boast. I've +done worse, perhaps. I've gambled away the provision I had made for +my poor family." + +"Don't take it too hard," said Joe, in a tone of sympathy. "You know +how it is out here. Down to-day and up to-morrow." + +"It'll take me a long time to get up to where I was," said the other; +"but it's my fault, and I must make the best of it." + +Joe observed, with satisfaction, that his visitor was doing ample +justice to the supper spread before him. With a full stomach, he +would be likely to take more cheerful views of life and the future. +In this thought Joe proved to be correct. + +"I didn't think I could eat anything," said the miner, laying down +his knife and fork, twenty minutes later, "but I have made a hearty +supper, thanks to your kindness. Things look a little brighter to me +now. I've had a hard pullback, but all is not lost. I've got to +stay here a year or two longer, instead of going back by the next +steamer; but I must make up my mind to that. What is your name, boy?" + +"Joe Mason." + +"You've been kind to me, and I won't forget it. It doesn't seem +likely I can return the favor, but I'll do it if ever I can. Good +night to you." + +"Where are you going?" asked Joe, surprised, as the miner walked to +the door. + +"Out into the street." + +"But where do you mean to pass the night?" + +"Where a man without money must--in the street." + +"But you mustn't do that." + +"I shan't mind it. I've slept out at the mines many a night." + +"But won't you find it more comfortable here?" + +"Yes; but I don't want to intrude. You've given me a good supper and +that is all I can expect." + +"He doesn't seem much like Hogan," thought Joe. + +"You are welcome to lodge here with me," he said. "It will cost you +nothing and will be more comfortable for you." + +"You don't know me, Joe," said the miner. "How do you know but I may +get up in the night and rob you?" + +"You could, but I don't think you will," said Joe. "I am not at all +afraid of it. You look like an honest man." + +The miner looked gratified. + +"You shan't repent your confidence, Joe," he said. + +"I'd rather starve than rob a good friend like you. But you mustn't +trust everybody." + +"I don't," said Joe. "I refused a man to-night--a man named Hogan." + +"Hogan?" + +"Yes." + +"What does he look like?" + +Joe described him. + +"It's the very man," said the miner. + +"Do you know him, then?" + +"Yes; he was out at our diggings. Nobody liked him, or trusted him. +He was too lazy to work, but just loafed around, complaining of his +luck. One night I caught him in my tent, just going to rob me. I +warned him to leave the camp next day or I'd report him, and the boys +would have strung him up. That's the way they treat thieves out +there." + +"It doesn't surprise me to hear it," said Joe. "He robbed me of +fifty dollars in New York." + +"He did? How was that?" + +Joe told the story. + +"The mean skunk!" ejaculated Watson--for this Joe found to be the +miners name. "It's mean enough to rob a man, but to cheat a poor boy +out of all he has is a good deal meaner. And yet you gave him +supper?" + +"Yes. The man was hungry; I pitied him." + +"You're a better Christian than I am. I'd have let him go hungry." + +Both Joe and the miner were weary and they soon retired, but not to +uninterrupted slumber. About midnight they were disturbed, as the +next chapter will show. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +HOGAN MEETS A CONGENIAL SPIRIT + +When Hogan left Joe's presence he was far from feeling as grateful as +he ought for the kindness with which our hero had treated him. +Instead of feeling thankful for the bountiful supper, he was angry +because Joe had not permitted him to remain through the night. Had +he obtained this favor, he would have resented the refusal to take +him into partnership. There are some men who are always soliciting +favors, and demanding them as a right, and Hogan was one of them. + +Out in the street he paused a minute, undecided where to go. He had +no money, as he had truly said, or he would have been tempted to go +to a gambling-house, and risk it on a chance of making more. + +"Curse that boy!" he muttered, as he sauntered along in the direction +of Telegraph Hill. "Who'd have thought a green country clodhopper +would have gone up as he has, while an experienced man of the world +like me is out at the elbows and without a cent!" + +The more Hogan thought of this, the more indignant he became. + +He thrust both hands into his pantaloons pockets, and strode moodily +on. + +"I say it's a cursed shame!" he muttered. "I never did have any +luck, that's a fact. Just see how luck comes to some. With only a +dollar or two in his pocket, this Joe got trusted for a first-class +passage out here, while I had to come in the steerage. Then, again, +he meets some fool, who sets him up in business. Nobody ever +offered to set me up in business!" continued Hogan, feeling aggrieved +at Fortune for her partiality. "Nobody even offered to give me a +start in life. I have to work hard, and that's all the good it does." + +The fact was that Hogan had not done a whole day's work for years. +But such men are very apt to deceive themselves and possibly he +imagined himself a hard-working man. + +"It's disgusting to see the airs that boy puts on," he continued to +soliloquize. "It's nothing but luck. He can't help getting on, with +everybody to help him. Why didn't he let me sleep in his place +to-night? It wouldn't have cost him a cent." + +Then Hogan drifted off into calculations of how much money Joe was +making by his business. He knew the prices charged for meals and +that they afforded a large margin of profit. + +The more he thought of it, the more impressed he was with the extent +of Joe's luck. + +"The boy must be making his fortune," he said to himself. "Why, he +can't help clearing from one to two hundred dollars a week--perhaps +more. It's a money-making business, there's no doubt of it. Why +couldn't he take me in as partner? That would set me on my legs +again, and in time I'd be rich. I'd make him sell out, and get the +whole thing after awhile." + +So Hogan persuaded himself into the conviction that Joe ought to have +accepted him as partner, though why this should be, since his only +claim rested on his successful attempt to defraud him in New York, it +would be difficult to conjecture. + +Sauntering slowly along, Hogan had reached the corner of Pacific +Street, then a dark and suspicious locality in the immediate +neighborhood of a number of low public houses of bad reputation. The +night was dark, for there was no moon. + +Suddenly he felt himself seized in a tight grip, while a low, stern +voice in his ear demanded: + +"Your money, and be quick about it!" + +Hogan was not a brave man, but this demand, in his impecunious +condition, instead of terrifying him, struck his sense of humor as an +exceedingly good joke. + +"You've got the wrong man!" he chuckled. + +"Stop your fooling, and hand over your money, quickly!" was the stern +rejoinder. + +"My dear friend," said Hogan, "if you can find any money about me, +it's more than I can do myself." + +"Are you on the square?" demanded the other suspiciously. + +"Look at me, and see." + +The highwayman took him at his word. Lighting a match, he surveyed +his captive. + +"You don't look wealthy, that's a fact," he admitted. "Where are you +going?" + +"I don't know. I haven't got any money, nor any place to sleep." + +"Then you'd better be leaving this place, or another mistake may be +made." + +"Stop!" said Hogan, with a sudden thought. "Though I haven't any +money, I can tell you where we can both find some." + +"Do you mean it?" + +"Yes." + +"Come in here, then, and come to business." + +He led Hogan into a low shanty on Pacific Street, and, bidding him be +seated on a broken settee, waited for particulars. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +READY FOR MISCHIEF + +Though Hogan was a scamp in the superlative degree, the burly ruffian +who seated himself by his side looked the character much better. He +was not a man to beat about the bush. As he expressed it, he wanted +to come to business at once. + +"What's your game, pard?" he demanded. "Out with it." + +Hogan's plan, as the reader has already surmised, was to break into +Joe's restaurant and seize whatever money he might be found to have +on the premises. He recommended it earnestly, for two reasons. +First, a share of the money would be welcome; and, secondly, he would +be gratified to revenge himself upon the boy, whom he disliked +because he had injured him. + +Jack Rafferty listened in silence. + +"I don't know about it," he said. "There's a risk." + +"I don't see any risk. We two ought to be a match for a boy." + +"Of course we are. If we wasn't I'd go hang myself up for a milksop. +Are you sure there's no one else with him?" + +"Not a soul." + +"That's well, so far; but we might be seen from the outside." + +"We can keep watch." + +"Do you think the boy's got much money about him?" + +"Yes; he's making money hand over fist. He's one of those mean chaps +that never spend a cent, but lay it all by. Bah!" + +So Hogan expressed his contempt for Joe's frugality. + +"All the better for us. How much might there be now, do you think?" + +"Five hundred dollars, likely." + +"That's worth risking something for," said Jack thoughtfully. + +"We'll share alike?" inquired Hogan anxiously. + +"Depends on how much you help about gettin' the money," said Jack +carelessly. + +Hogan, who was not very courageous, did not dare push the matter +though he would have liked a more definite assurance. However, he +had another motive besides the love of money, and was glad to have +the cooperation of Rafferty, though secretly afraid of his ruffianly +accomplice. + +It was agreed to wait till midnight. Till then both men threw +themselves down and slept. + +As the clock indicated midnight, Rafferty shook Hogan roughly. + +The latter sat up and gazed, in terrified bewilderment, at Jack, who +was leaning over him, forgetting for the moment the compact into +which he had entered. + +"What do you want?" he ejaculated. + +"It's time we were about our business," growled Jack. + +"It's struck twelve." + +"All right!" responded Hogan, who began to feel nervous, now that the +crisis was at hand. + +"Don't sit rubbing your eyes, man, but get up." + +"Haven't you got a drop of something to brace me up?" asked Hogan +nervously. + +"What are you scared of, pard?" asked Rafferty contemptuously. + +"Nothing," answered Hogan, "but I feel dry." + +"All right. A drop of something will warm us both up." + +Jack went behind the counter, and, selecting a bottle of rot-gut +whisky, poured out a stiff glassful apiece. + +"Drink it, pard," he said. + +Hogan did so, nothing loath. + +"That's the right sort," he said, smacking his lips. "It's warming +to the stomach." + +So it was and a frequent indulgence in the vile liquid would probably +have burned his stomach and unfitted it for service. But the +momentary effect was stimulating, and inspired Hogan with a kind of +Dutch courage, which raised him in the opinion of his burly +confederate. + +"Push ahead, pard," said he. "I'm on hand." + +"That's the way to talk," said Rafferty approvingly. "If we're +lucky, we'll be richer before morning." + +Through the dark streets, unlighted and murky, the two confederates +made their stealthy way, and in five minutes stood in front of Joe's +restaurant. + +CHAPTER XXII + +CHECKMATED + +Everything looked favorable for their plans. Of course, the +restaurant was perfectly dark, and the street was quite deserted. + +"How shall we get in?" asked Hogan of his more experienced accomplice. + +"No trouble--through the winder." + +Rafferty had served an apprenticeship at the burglar's trade, and was +not long in opening the front window. He had no light and could not +see that Joe had a companion. If he had discovered this, he would +have been more cautious. + +"Go in and get the money," said he to Hogan. + +He thought it possible that Hogan might object, but the latter had a +reason for consenting. He thought he might obtain for himself the +lion's share of the plunder, while, as to risk, there would be no one +but Joe to cope with, and Hogan knew that in physical strength he +must be more than a match for a boy of sixteen. + +"All right!" said Hogan. "You stay at the window and give the alarm +if we are seen." + +Rafferty was prompted by a suspicion of Hogan's good faith in the +proposal he made to him. His ready compliance lulled this suspicion, +and led him to reflect that, perhaps, he could do the work better +himself. + +"No," said he. "I'll go in and you keep watch at the winder." + +"I'm willing to go in," said Hogan, fearing that he would not get his +fair share of the plunder. + +"You stay where you are, pard!" said Rafferty, in a tone of command. +"I'll manage this thing myself." + +"Just as you say," said Hogan, slightly disappointed. + +Rafferty clambered into the room, making as little noise as possible. +He stood still a moment, to accustom his eyes to the darkness. His +plan was to discover where Joe lay, wake him up, and force him, by +threats of instant death as the penalty for non-compliance, to +deliver up all the money he had in the restaurant. + +Now, it happened that Joe and his guest slept in opposite corners of +the room. Rafferty discovered Joe, but was entirely ignorant of the +presence of another person in the apartment. + +Joe waked on being rudely shaken. + +"Who is it?" he muttered drowsily. + +"Never mind who it is!" growled Jack in his ear. "It's a man that'll +kill you if you don't give up all the money you've got about you!" + +Joe was fully awake now, and realized the situation. He felt +thankful that he was not alone, and it instantly flashed upon him +that Watson had a revolver. But Watson was asleep. To obtain time +to form a plan, he parleyed a little. + +"You want my money?" he asked, appearing to be confused. + +"Yes--and at once! Refuse, and I will kill you!" + +I won't pretend to deny that Joe's heart beat a little quicker than +its wont. He was thinking busily. How could he attract Watson's +attention? + +"It's pretty hard, but I suppose I must," he answered. + +"That's the way to talk." + +"Let me get up and I'll get it." + +Joe spoke so naturally that Rafferty suspected nothing. He permitted +our hero to rise, supposing that he was going for the money he +demanded. + +Joe knew exactly where Watson lay and went over to him. He knelt +down and drew out the revolver from beneath his head, at the same +time pushing him, in the hope of arousing him. The push was +effectual. Watson was a man whose experience at the mines had taught +him to rouse at once. He just heard Joe say: + +"Hush!" + +"What are you so long about?" demanded Rafferty suspiciously. + +"I've got a revolver," said Joe unexpectedly; "and, if you don't +leave the room, I'll fire!" + +With an oath, Rafferty, who was no coward, sprang upon Joe, and it +would have gone hard with him but for Watson. The latter was now +broad awake. He seized Rafferty by the collar, and, dashing him +backward upon the floor, threw himself upon him. + +"Two can play at that game!" said he. "Light the candle, Joe." + +"Help, pard!" called Rafferty. + +But Hogan, on whom he called, suspecting how matters stood, was in +full flight. + +The candle was lighted, and in the struggling ruffian Joe recognized +the man who, three months before, had robbed him of his little all. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +NOT WHOLLY BLACK + +"I know this man, Mr. Watson," said Joe. + +"Who is he?" + +"He is the same man who robbed me of my money one night about three +months ago--the one I told you of." + +For the first time, Rafferty recognized Joe. + +"There wasn't enough to make a fuss about," he said. "There was only +two dollars and a half." + +"It was all I had." + +"Let me up!" said Rafferty, renewing his struggles. + +"Joe, have you got a rope?" asked Watson. + +"Yes." + +"Bring it here, then. I can't hold this man all night." + +"What are you going to do with me?" demanded Rafferty uneasily. + +"Tie you hand and foot till to-morrow morning and then deliver you +over to the authorities." + +"No, you won't!" + +He made a renewed struggle, but Watson was a man with muscles of +iron, and the attempt was unsuccessful. + +It was not without considerable difficulty, however, that the +midnight intruder was secured. When, at length, he was bound hand +and foot, Watson withdrew to a little distance. Joe and he looked at +Rafferty, and each felt that he had seldom seen a more brutal face. + +"Well," growled Rafferty, "I hope you are satisfied?" + +"Not yet," returned Watson. "When you are delivered into the hands +of the authorities we shall be satisfied." + +"Oh, for an hour's freedom!" muttered Jack Rafferty, expressing his +thoughts aloud. + +"What use would you make of it?" asked Watson, in a tone of curiosity. + +"I'd kill the man that led me into this trap!" + +Watson and Joe were surprised. + +"Was there such a man. Didn't you come here alone?" + +"No; there was a man got me to come. Curse him, He told me I would +only find the boy here!" + +"What has become of him?" + +"He ran away, I reckon, instead of standing by me." + +"Where was he?" + +"At the winder." + +"Could it have been Hogan?" thought Joe. + +"I think I know the man," said our hero. "I'll describe the man I +mean and you can tell me if it was he." + +He described Hogan as well as he could. + +"That's the man," said Rafferty. "I wouldn't peach if he hadn't +served me such a mean trick. What's his name?" + +"His name is Hogan. He came over on the same steamer with me, after +robbing me of fifty dollars in New York. He has been at the mines, +but didn't make out well. This very afternoon I gave him supper--all +he could eat--and charged him nothing for it. He repays me by +planning a robbery." + +"He's a mean skunk," said Watson bluntly. + +"You're right, stranger," said Rafferty. "I'm a scamp myself, but +I'll be blowed if I'd turn on a man that fed me when I was hungry." + +The tones were gruff but the man was evidently sincere. + +"You're better than you look," said Watson, surprised to hear such a +sentiment from a man of such ruffianly appearance. + +Jack Rafferty laughed shortly. + +"I ain't used to compliments," he said, "and I expect I'm bad enough, +but I ain't all bad. I won't turn on my pal, unless he does it +first, and I ain't mean enough to rob a man that's done me a good +turn." + +"No, you ain't all bad," said Watson. "It's a pity you won't make up +your mind to earn an honest living." + +"Too late for that, I reckon. What do you think they'll do with me?" + +In those days punishments were summary and severe. Watson knew it +and Joe had seen something of it. Our hero began to feel compassion +for the foiled burglar. He whispered in Watson's ear. Watson +hesitated, but finally yielded. + +"Stranger," said he, "the boy wants me to let you go." + +"Does he?" inquired Rafferty, in surprise. + +"Yes. He is afraid it will go hard with you if we give you up." + +"Likely it will," muttered Rafferty, watching Watson's face eagerly, +to see whether he favored Joe's proposal. + +"Suppose we let you go--will you promise not to make another attempt +upon this place?" + +"What do you take me for? I'm not such a mean cuss as that." + +"One thing more--you won't kill this man that brought you here?" + +"If I knowed it wasn't a trap he led me into. He told me there was +only the boy." + +"He thought so. I don't belong here. The boy let me sleep here out +of kindness. Hogan knew nothing of this. I didn't come till after +he had left." + +"That's different," said Rafferty; "but he shouldn't have gone back +on me." + +"He is a coward, probably." + +"I guess you're right," said Rafferty contemptuously. + +"You promise, then?" + +"Not to kill him? Yes." + +"Then we'll let you go." + +Watson unloosed the bonds that confined the prisoner. Rafferty +raised himself to his full height and stretched his limbs. + +"There--I feel better," he said. "You tied the rope pretty tight." + +"I found it necessary," said Watson, laughing. "Now, Joe, if you +will open the door, this gentleman will pass out." + +Rafferty turned to Joe, as he was about to leave the restaurant. + +"Boy," said he, "I won't forget this. I ain't much of a friend to +boast of, but I'm your friend. You've saved me from prison, and +worse, it's likely; and, if you need help any time, send for me. If +I had that money I took from you I'd pay it back." + +"I don't need it," said Joe. "I've been lucky, and am doing well. I +hope you'll make up your mind to turn over a new leaf. If you do, +and are ever hard up for a meal, come to me, and you shall have it +without money and without price." + +"Thank you, boy," said Rafferty. "I'll remember it." + +He strode out of the restaurant, and disappeared in the darkness. + +"Human nature's a curious thing, Joe," said Watson. "Who would have +expected to find any redeeming quality in such a man as that?" + +"I would sooner trust him than Hogan." + +"So would I. Hogan is a mean scoundrel, who is not so much of a +ruffian as this man only because he is too much of a coward to be." + +"I am glad we let him go," said Joe. + +"I am not sure whether it was best, but I knew we should have to be +awake all night if we didn't. He could have loosened the knots after +awhile. He won't trouble you any more." + +"I wish I felt as sure about Hogan," said Joe. + +"Hogan is a coward. I advise you to keep ft revolver constantly on +hand. He won't dare to break in by himself." + + * * * * * + +The next morning, after breakfast, Watson prepared to go out in +search of work. + +"I must begin at the bottom of the ladder once more," he said to Joe. +"It's my own fault, and I won't complain. But what a fool I have +been! I might have gone home by the next steamer if I hadn't gambled +away all my hard earnings." + +"What sort of work shall you try to get?" + +"Anything--I have no right to be particular. Anything that will pay +my expenses and give me a chance to lay by something for my family at +home." + +"Mr. Watson," said Joe suddenly, "I've been thinking of something +that may suit you. Since I came to San Francisco I have never gone +outside. I would like to go to the mines." + +"You wouldn't make as much as you do here." + +"Perhaps not; but I have laid by some money and I would like to see +something of the country. Will you carry on the restaurant for me +for three months, if I give you your board and half of the profits?" + +"Will I? I should think myself very lucky to get the chance." + +"Then you shall have the chance." + +"How do you know that I can be trusted?" asked Watson. + +"I haven't known you long," said Joe, "but I feel confidence in your +honesty." + +"I don't think you'll repent your confidence. When do you want to +go?" + +"I'll stay here a few days, till you get used to the business, then I +will start." + +"I was lucky to fall in with you," said Watson. "I didn't want to go +back to the mines and tell the boys what a fool I have been. I begin +to think there's a chance for me yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +MR. BICKFORD, OF PUMPKIN HOLLOW + +It may be thought that Joe was rash in deciding to leave his business +in the hands of a man whose acquaintance he had made but twelve hours +previous. But in the early history of California friendships ripened +fast. There was more confidence between man and man, and I am +assured that even now, though the State is more settled and as far +advanced in civilization and refinement as any of her sister States +on the Atlantic coast, the people are bound together by more friendly +ties, and exhibit less of cold caution than at the East. At all +events, Joe never dreamed of distrusting his new acquaintance. A +common peril, successfully overcome, had doubtless something to do in +strengthening the bond between them. + +Joe went round to his friend Mr. Morgan and announced his intention. + +"I don't think you will make money by your new plan, Joe," said +Morgan. + +"I don't expect to," said Joe, "but I want to see the mines. If I +don't succeed, I can come back to my business here." + +"That is true. I should like very well to go, too." + +"Why won't you, Mr. Morgan?" + +"I cannot leave my business as readily as you can. Do you feel +confidence in this man whom you are leaving in charge?" + +"Yes, sir. He has been unlucky, but I am sure he is honest." + +"He will have considerable money belonging to you by the time you +return--that is, if you stay any length of time." + +"I want to speak to you about that, Mr. Morgan. I have directed him +to make a statement to you once a month, and put in your hands what +money comes to me--if it won't trouble you too much." + +"Not at all, Joe. I shall be glad to be of service to you." + +"If you meet with any good investment for the money while I am away, +I should like to have you act for me as you would for yourself." + +"All right, Joe." + +Joe learned from Watson that the latter had been mining on the Yuba +River, not far from the town of Marysville. He decided to go there, +although he might have found mines nearer the city. The next +question was, How should he get there, and should he go alone? + +About this time a long, lank Yankee walked into the restaurant, one +day, and, seating himself at a table, began to inspect the bill of +fare which Joe used to write up every morning. He looked +disappointed. + +"Don't you find what you want?" inquired Joe. + +"No," said the visitor. "I say, this is a queer country. I've been +hankerin' arter a good dish of baked beans for a week, and ain't +found any." + +"We sometimes have them," said Joe. "Come here at one o'clock, and +you shall be accommodated." + +The stranger brightened up. + +"That's the talk," said he. "I'll come." + +"Have you just come out here?" asked Joe curiously. + +"A week ago." + +"Are you a Southerner?" asked Joe demurely. + +"No, I guess not!" said the Yankee, with emphasis. + +"I was raised in Pumpkin Hollow, State of Maine. I was twenty-one +last first of April, but I ain't no April fool, I tell you. Dad and +me carried on the farm till I, began to hear tell of Californy. I'd +got about three hundred dollars saved up and I took it to come out +here." + +"I suppose you've come out to make your fortune?" + +"Yes, sir-ee, that's just what I come for." + +"How have you succeeded so far?" + +"I've succeeded in spendin' all my money, except fifty dollars. I +say, it costs a sight to eat and drink out here. I can't afford to +take but one meal a day, and then I eat like all possessed." + +"I should think you would, Mr.-------" + +"Joshua Bickford--that's my name when I'm to hum." + +"Well, Mr. Bickford, what are your plans?" + +"I want to go out to the mines and dig gold. I guess I can dig as +well as anybody. I've had experience in diggin' ever since I was ten +year old." + +"Not digging gold, I suppose?" + +"Diggin' potatoes, and sich." + +"I'm going to the mines myself, Mr. Bickford. What do you say to +going along with me?" + +"I'm on hand. You know the way, don't you?" + +"We can find it, I have no doubt. I have never been there, but my +friend Mr. Watson is an experienced miner." + +"How much gold did you dig?" asked Joshua bluntly. + +"Two thousand dollars," answered Watson, not thinking it necessary to +add that he had parted with the money since at the gaming-table. + +"Two thousand dollars?" exclaimed Joshua, duly impressed. "That's a +heap of money!" + +"Yes; it's a pretty good pile." + +"I'd like to get that much. I know what I'd do." + +"What would you do, Mr. Bickford?" + +"I'd go home and marry Sukey Smith, by gosh!" + +"Then I hope you'll get the money, for Miss Smith's sake." + +"There's a feller hangin' round her," said Joshua, "kinder +slick-lookin', with his hair parted in the middle; he tends in the +dry-goods store; but, if I come home with two thousand dollars, +she'll have me, I guess. Why, with two thousand dollars I can buy +the farm next to dad's, with a house with five rooms into it, and a +good-sized barn. I guess Sukey wouldn't say no to me then, but would +change her name to Bickford mighty sudden." + +"I hope you will succeed in your plans, Mr. Bickford." + +"Seems to me you're kinder young to be out here," said Bickford, +turning his attention to Joe. + +"Yes; I am not quite old enough to think of marrying." + +"Have you got money enough to get out to the mines?" asked Joshua +cautiously. + +"I think I can raise enough," said Joe, smiling. + +"My young friend is the owner of this restaurant," said Watson. + +"You don't say! I thought you hired him." + +"No. On the contrary, I am in his employ. I have agreed to run the +restaurant for him while he is at the mines. + +"You don't say!" exclaimed Bickford, surveying our hero with +curiosity. "Have you made much money in this eating-house?" + +"I've done pretty well," said Joe modestly. "I own the building and +the two adjoining lots." + +"You don't say! How old be you?" + +"Sixteen." + +"You must be all-fired smart!" + +"I don't know about that, Mr. Bickford. I've been lucky and fallen +in with good friends." + +"Well, I guess Californy's the place to make money. I ain't made any +yet, but I mean to. There wasn't no chance to get ahead in Pumpkin +Hollow. I was workin' for eight dollars a month and board." + +"It would be a great while before you could save up money to buy a +farm out of that, Mr. Bickford." + +"That's so." + +"My experience was something like yours. Before I came out here I +was working on a farm." + +"Sho!" + +"And I didn't begin to get as much money as you. I was bound out to +a farmer for my board and clothes. The board was fair but the +clothes were few and poor." + +"You don't say!" + +"I hope you will be as lucky as I have been." + +"How much are you worth now?" asked Joshua curiously. + +"From one to two thousand dollars, I expect." + +"Sho! I never did! How long have you been out here?" + +"Three months." + +"Je-rusalem! That's better than stayin' to hum." + +"I think so." + +By this time Mr. Bickford had completed his breakfast and in an +anxious tone he inquired: + +"What's the damage?" + +"Oh, I won't charge you anything, as you are going to be my traveling +companion," said Joe. + +"You're a gentleman, by gosh!" exclaimed Mr. Bickford, in +unrestrained delight. + +"Come in at one o'clock and you shall have some of your favorite +beans and nothing to pay. Can you start for the mines to-morrow?" + +"Yes--I've got nothin' to prepare." + +"Take your meals here till we go." + +"Well, I'm in luck," said Bickford. "Victuals cost awful out here +and I haven't had as much as I wanted to eat since I got here." + +"Consider yourself my guest," said Joe, "and eat all you want to." + +It may be remarked that Mr. Bickford availed himself of our young +hero's invitation, and during the next twenty-four hours stowed away +enough provisions to last an ordinary man for half a week. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE MAN FROM PIKE COUNTY + +Four days later Joe and his Yankee friend, mounted on mustangs, were +riding through a canon a hundred miles from San Francisco. It was +late in the afternoon, and the tall trees shaded the path on which +they were traveling. The air was unusually chilly and after the heat +of midday they felt it. + +"I don't feel like campin' out to-night," said Bickford. "It's too +cool." + +"I don't think we shall find any hotels about here," said Joe. + +"Don't look like it. I'd like to be back in Pumpkin Hollow just for +to-night. How fur is it to the mines, do you calc'late?" + +"We are probably about half-way. We ought to reach the Yuba River +inside of a week." + +Here Mr. Bickford's mustang deliberately stopped and began to survey +the scenery calmly. + +"What do you mean, you pesky critter?" demanded Joshua. + +The mustang turned his head and glanced composedly at the burden he +was carrying. + +"G'lang!" said Joshua, and he brought down his whip on the flanks of +the animal. + +It is not in mustang nature to submit to such an outrage without +expressing proper resentment. The animal threw up its hind legs, +lowering its head at the same time, and Joshua Bickford, describing a +sudden somersault, found himself sitting down on the ground a few +feet in front of his horse, not seriously injured, but considerably +bewildered. + +"By gosh!" he ejaculated. + +"Why didn't you tell me you were going to dismount, Mr. Bickford?" +asked Joe, his eyes twinkling with merriment. + +"Because I didn't know it myself," said Joshua, rising and rubbing +his jarred frame. + +The mustang did not offer to run away, but stood calmly surveying him +as if it had had nothing to do with his rider's sudden dismounting. + +"Darn the critter! He looks just as if nothing had happened," said +Joshua. "He served me a mean trick." + +"It was a gentle hint that he was tired," said Joe. + +"Darn the beast! I don't like his hints," said Mr. Bickford. + +He prepared to mount the animal, but the latter rose on its hind legs +and very clearly intimated that the proposal was not agreeable. + +"What's got into the critter?" said Joshua. + +"He wants to rest. Suppose we rest here for half-an-hour, while we +loosen check-rein and let the horses graze." + +"Just as you say." + +Joshua's steed appeared pleased with the success of his little hint +and lost no time in availing himself of the freedom accorded him. + +"I wish I was safe at the mines," said Joshua. "What would dad say +if he knowed where I was, right out here in the wilderness? It looks +as we might be the only human critters in the world. There ain't no +house in sight, nor any signs of man's ever bein' here." + +"So we can fancy how Adam felt when he was set down in Paradise," +said Joe. + +"I guess he felt kinder lonely." + +"Probably he did, till Eve came. He had Eve, and I have you for +company." + +"I guess Eve wasn't much like me," said Joshua, with a grin. + +He was lying at full length on the greensward, looking awkward and +ungainly enough, but his countenance, homely as it was, looked honest +and trustworthy, and Joe preferred his company to that of many +possessed of more outward polish. He could not help smiling at Mr. +Bickford's remark. + +"Probably Eve was not as robust as you are," he replied, "I doubt if +she were as tall, either. But as to loneliness, it is better to be +lonely than to have some company." + +"There ain't no suspicious characters round, are there?" inquired +Joshua anxiously. + +"We are liable to meet them--men who have been unsuccessful at the +mines and who have become desperate in consequence, and others who +came out here to prey upon others. That's what I hear." + +"Do you think we shall meet any of the critters?" asked Joshua. + +"I hope not. They wouldn't find it very profitable to attack us. We +haven't much money." + +"I haven't," said Joshua. "I couldn't have got to the mines if you +hadn't lent me a few dollars." + +"You have your animal. You can sell him for something." + +"If he agrees to carry me so far," said Mr. Bickford, gazing +doubtfully at the mustang, who was evidently enjoying his evening +repast. + +"Oh, a hearty meal will make him good-natured. That is the way it +acts with boys and men, and animals are not so very different." + +"I guess you're right," said Joshua. "When I wanted to get a favor +out of dad, I always used to wait till the old man had got his belly +full. That made him kinder good-natured." + +"I see you understand human nature, Mr. Bickford," said Joe. + +"I guess I do," said Joshua complacently. "Great Jehoshaphat, who's +that?" + +Joe raised his head and saw riding toward them a man who might have +sat for the photograph of a bandit without any alteration in his +countenance or apparel. He wore a red flannel shirt, pants of rough +cloth, a Mexican sombrero, had a bowie-knife stuck in his girdle, and +displayed a revolver rather ostentatiously. His hair, which he wore +long, was coarse and black, and he had a fierce mustache. + +"Is he a robber?" asked Joshua uneasily. + +"Even if he is," said Joe, "we are two to one. I dare say he's all +right, but keep your weapon ready." + +Though Joe was but a boy and Bickford a full-grown man, from the +outset he had assumed the command of the party, and issued directions +which his older companion followed implicitly. The explanation is +that Joe had a mind of his own, and decided promptly what was best to +be done, while his long-limbed associate was duller witted and +undecided. + +Joe and Joshua maintained their sitting position till the stranger +was within a rod or two, when he hailed them. + +"How are ye, strangers?" he said. + +"Pretty comfortable," said Joshua, reassured by his words. "How fare +you?" + +"You're a Yank, ain't you?" said the newcomer, disregarding Joshua's +question. + +"I reckon so. Where might you hail from?" + +"I'm from Pike County, Missouri," was the answer. "You've heard of +Pike, hain't you?" + +"I don't know as I have," said Mr. Bickford. + +The stranger frowned. + +"You must have been born in the woods not to have heard of Pike +County," he said. "The smartest fighters come from Pike. I kin whip +my weight in wildcats, am a match for a dozen Indians to onst, and +can tackle a lion without flinchin'." + +"Sho!" said Joshua, considerably impressed. + +"Won't you stop and rest with us?" said Joe politely. + +"I reckon I will," said the Pike man, getting off his beast. "You +don't happen to have a bottle of whisky with you, strangers?" + +"No," said Joe. + +The newcomer looked disappointed. + +"I wish you had," said he. "I feel as dry as a tinder-box. Where +might you be travelin'?" + +"We are bound for the mines on the Yuba River." + +"That's a long way off." + +"Yes, it's four or five days' ride." + +"I've been there, and I don't like it. It's too hard work for a +gentleman." + +This was uttered in such a magnificent tone of disdain that Joe was +rather amused at the fellow. In his red shirt and coarse breeches, +and brown, not overclean skin, he certainly didn't look much like a +gentleman in the conventional sense of that term. + +"It's all well enough to be a gentleman if you've got money to fall +back on," remarked Joshua sensibly. + +"Is that personal?" demanded the Pike County man, frowning and half +rising. + +"It's personal to me," said Joshua quietly. + +"I accept the apology," said the newcomer, sinking back upon the turf. + +"I hain't apologized, as I'm aware," said Joshua, who was no craven. + +"You'd better not rile me, stranger," said the Pike man fiercely. +"You don't know me, you don't. I'm a rip-tail roarer, I am. I +always kill a man who insults me." + +"So do we," said Joe quietly. + +The Pike County man looked at Joe in some surprise. He had expected +to frighten the boy with his bluster, but it didn't seem to produce +the effect intended. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +A DESPERADO + +Mr. Bickford also seemed a little surprised at Joe's coolness. +Though not a coward in the face of danger, he had been somewhat +impressed by the fierce aspect of the man from Pike County, and +really looked upon him as a reckless daredevil who was afraid of +nothing. Joe judged him more truly. He decided that a man who +boasted so loudly was a sham. If he had talked less, he would have +feared him more. + +After his last bloodthirsty declaration the man from Pike County +temporarily subsided. + +He drew out from his pocket a greasy pack of cards, and after +skilfully shuffling them inquired: + +"What do you say, strangers, to a little game to pass away the time?" + +"I never played keards in my life," said Joshua Bickford. + +"Where was you raised?" demanded the Pike man contemptuously. + +"Pumpkin Hollow, State o' Maine," said Joshua. "Dad's an orthodox +deacon. He never let any of us play keards. I don't know one from +t'other." + +"I'll learn you," said the Pike man condescendingly. "Suppose we +have a game of poker?" + +"Ain't that a gambling' game?" inquired Joshua. + +"We always play for something," said the Pike man. "It's dern +foolishness playin' for nothing. Shall we have a game?" + +He looked at Joe as he spoke. + +"I don't care to play," said our hero. "I don't know much about +cards, and I don't want to play for money." + +"That's dern foolishness," said the stranger, whose object it was to +clean out his new friends, being an expert gambler. + +"Perhaps it is," said Joe, "but I only speak for myself. Mr. +Bickford may feel differently." + +"Will you take a hand, Bickford?" asked the Pike man, thinking it +possible that Joshua might have some money of which he could relieve +him. + +"You kin show me how to play if you want to," said Joshua, "but I +won't gamble any." + +The Pike man put up his pack of cards in disgust. + +"Derned if I ever met sich fellers!" he said. "You're Methodists, +ain't you?" + +"We generally decline doing what we don't want to do," said Joe. + +"Look here, boy," blustered the Pike man, "I reckon you don't know +me. I'm from Pike County, Missouri, I am. I'm a rip-tail roarer, I +am. I kin whip my weight in wildcats." + +"You told us that afore," said Joshua placidly. + +"Derned if I don't mean it, too!" exclaimed the Pike County man, with +a fierce frown. "Do you know how I served a man last week?" + +"No. Tell us, won't you?" said Joshua. + +"We was ridin' together over in Alameda County. We'd met +permiscuous, like we've met to-day. I was tellin' him how four b'ars +attacked me once, and I fit 'em all single-handed, when he laughed, +and said he reckoned I'd been drinkin' and saw double. If he'd +knowed me better, he wouldn't have done it." + +"What did you do?" asked Joshua, interested. + +Joe, who was satisfied that the fellow was romancing, did not exhibit +any interest. + +"What did I do?" echoed the Pike County man fiercely. "I told him he +didn't know the man he insulted. I told him I was from Pike County, +Missouri, and that I was a rip-tail roarer." + +"And could whip your weight in wildcats," suggested Joe. + +The Pike man appeared irritated. + +"Don't interrupt me, boy," he said. "It ain't healthy." + +"After you'd made them remarks what did you do?" inquired Joshua. + +"I told him he'd insulted me and must fight. I always do that." + +"Did he fight?" + +"He had to." + +"How did it come out?" + +"I shot him through the heart," said the man from Pike County +fiercely. "His bones are bleaching in the valley where he fell." + +"Sho!" said Joshua. + +The Pike County man looked from one to the other to see what effect +had been produced by his blood-curdling narration. Joshua looked +rather perplexed, as if he didn't quite know what to think, but Joe +seemed tranquil. + +"I think you said it happened last week," said Joe. + +"If I said so, it is so," said the Pike man, who in truth did not +remember what time he had mentioned. + +"I don't question that. I was only wondering how his bones could +begin to bleach so soon after he was killed." + +"Just so," said Joshua, to whom this difficulty had not presented +itself before. + +"Do you doubt my word, stranger?" exclaimed the Pike man, putting his +hand to his side and fingering his knife. + +"Not at all," said Joe. "But I wanted to understand how it was." + +"I don't give no explanations," said the Pike man haughtily, "and I +allow no man to doubt my word." + +"Look here, my friend," said Joshua, "ain't you rather cantankerous?" + +"What's that?" demanded the other suspiciously. + +"No offense," said Joshua, "but you take a feller up so we don't know +exactly how to talk to you." + +"I take no insults," said the Pike man. "Insults must be washed out +in blood." + +"Soap-suds is better than blood for washin' purposes," said Joshua +practically. "Seems to me you're spoilin' for a fight all the time." + +"I allow I am," said the Pike man, who regarded this as a compliment. +"I was brought up on fightin'. When I was a boy I could whip any boy +in school." + +"That's why they called you a rip-tail roarer, I guess," said Joshua. + +"You're right, stranger," said the Pike man complacently. + +"What did you do when the teacher give you a lickin'?" asked Mr. +Bickford. + +"What did I do?" yelled the Pike County man, with a demoniac frown. + +"Exactly so." + +"I shot him!" said the Pike man briefly. + +"Sho! How many teachers did you shoot when you was a boy?" + +"Only one. The rest heard of it and never dared touch me." + +"So you could play hookey and cut up all you wanted to?" + +"You're right, stranger." + +"They didn't manage that way at Pumpkin Hollow," said Mr. Bickford. +"Boys ain't quite so handy with shootin'-irons. When the master +flogged us we had to stand it." + +"Were you afraid of him?" asked the Pike man disdainfully. + +"Well, I was," Joshua admitted. "He was a big man with arms just +like flails, and the way he used to pound us was a caution." + +"I'd have shot him in his tracks," said the Pike man fiercely. + +"You'd have got a wallopin' fust, I reckon," said Joshua. + +"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded the Pike man. + +"Oh, lay down, and don't be so cantankerous," said Joshua. "You're +allus thinkin' of bein' insulted." + +"We may as well be going," said Joe, who was thoroughly disgusted +with their new companion. + +"Just as you say, Joe," said Joshua. "Here, you pesky critter, come +and let me mount you." + +The mustang realized Joe's prediction. After his hearty supper he +seemed to be quite tractable and permitted Mr. Bickford to mount him +without opposition. + +Joe also mounted his horse. + +"I'll ride along with you if you've no objections," said the Pike +man. "We kin camp together to-night." + +So saying, he too mounted the sorry-looking steed which he had +recently dismounted. + +Joe was not hypocrite enough to say that he was welcome. He thought +it best to be candid. + +"If you are quite convinced that neither of us wishes to insult you," +he said quietly, "you can join us. If you are bent on quarreling, +you had better ride on by yourself." + +The Pike man frowned fiercely. + +"Boy," he said, "I have shot a man for less than that." + +"I carry a revolver," said Joe quietly, "but I shan't use it unless +it is necessary. If you are so easily offended, you'd better ride on +alone." + +This the Pike man did not care to do. + +"You're a strange boy," he said, "but I reckon you're on the square. +I'll go along with you." + +"I would rather you'd leave us," thought Joe, but he merely said: +"Very well." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +TWO TRAGIC STORIES + +They rode on for about an hour and a half. Joshua's steed, placated +by his good supper, behaved very well. Their ride was still through +the canon. Presently it became too dark for them to proceed. + +"Ain't we gone about fur enough for to-night?" asked Joshua. + +"Perhaps we have," answered Joe. + +"Here's a good place to camp," suggested the man from Pike County, +pointing to a small grove of trees to the right. + +"Very well; let us dismount," said Joe. "I think we can pass the +night comfortably." + +They dismounted, and tied their beasts together under one of the +trees. They then threw themselves down on a patch of greensward +near-by. + +"I'm gettin' hungry," said Joshua. "Ain't you, Joe?" + +"Yes, Mr. Bickford. We may as well take supper." + +Mr. Bickford produced a supper of cold, meat and bread, and placed it +between Joe and himself. + +"Won't you share our supper?" said Joe to their companion. + +"Thank ye, stranger, I don't mind if I do," answered the Pike man, +with considerable alacrity. "My fodder give out this mornin', and I +hain't found any place to stock up." + +He displayed such an appetite that Mr. Bickford regarded him with +anxiety. They had no more than sufficient for themselves, and the +prospect of such a boarder was truly alarming. + +"You have a healthy appetite, my friend," he said. + +"I generally have," said the Pike man. "You'd orter have some +whisky, strangers, to wash it down with." + +"I'd rather have a good cup of coffee sweetened with 'lasses, sech as +marm makes to hum," remarked Mr. Bickford. + +"Coffee is for children, whisky for strong men," said the Roarer. + +"I prefer the coffee," said Joe. + +"Are you temperance fellers?" inquired the Pike man contemptuously. + +"I am," said Joe. + +"And I, too," said Joshua. + +"Bah!" said the other disdainfully; "I'd as soon drink skim-milk. +Good whisky or brandy for me." + +"I wish we was to your restaurant, Joe," said Joshua. "I kinder +hanker after some good baked beans. Baked beans and brown bread are +scrumptious. Ever eat 'em, stranger?" + +"No," said the Pike man; "none of your Yankee truck for me." + +"I guess you don't know what's good," said Mr. Bickford. "What's +your favorite vittles?" + +"Bacon and hominy, hoe-cakes and whisky." + +"Well," said Joshua, "it depends on the way a feller is brung up. I +go for baked beans and brown bread, and punkin pie--that's +goloptious. Ever eat punkin pie, stranger?" + +"Yes." + +"Like it?" + +"I don't lay much on it." + +Supper was over and other subjects succeeded. The Pike County man +became social. + +"Strangers," said he, "did you ever hear of the affair I had with +Jack Scott?" + +"No," said Joshua. "Spin it off, will you?" + +"Jack and me used to be a heap together. We went huntin' together, +camped out for weeks together, and was like two brothers. One day we +was ridin' out, when a deer started up fifty rods ahead. We both +raised our guns and shot at him. There was only one bullet into him, +and I knowed that was mine." + +"How did you know it?" inquired Joshua. + +"Don't you get curious, stranger. I knowed it, and that was enough. +But Jack said it was his. 'It's my deer,' he said, 'for you missed +your shot.' 'Look here, Jack,' said I, 'you're mistaken. You missed +it. Don't you think I know my own bullet?' 'No, I don't,' said he. +'Jack,' said I calmly, 'don't talk that way. It's dangerous.' 'Do +you think I'm afraid of you?' he said, turning on me. 'Jack,' said +I, 'don't provoke me. I can whip my weight in wildcats.' 'You can't +whip me,' said he. That was too much for me to stand. I'm the +Rip-tail Roarer from Pike County, Missouri, and no man can insult me +and live. 'Jack,' said I, 'we've been friends, but you've insulted +me, and it must be washed out in blood.' Then I up with my we'pon and +shot him through the head." + +"Sho!" said Joshua. + +"I was sorry to do it, for he was my friend," said the Pike County +man, "but he disputed my word, and the man that does that may as well +make his will if he's got any property to leave." + +Here the speaker looked to see what effect was produced upon his +listeners. Joe seemed indifferent. He saw through the fellow, and +did not credit a word he said. Joshua had been more credulous at +first, but he, too, began to understand the man from Pike County. +The idea occurred to him to pay him back in his own coin. + +"Didn't the relatives make any fuss about it?" he inquired. "Didn't +they arrest you for murder?" + +"They didn't dare to," said the Pike man proudly. "They knew me. +They knew I could whip my weight in wildcats and wouldn't let no man +insult me." + +"Did you leave the corpse lyin' out under the trees?" asked Joshua. + +"I rode over to Jack's brother and told him what I had done, and +where he'd find the body. He went and buried it." + +"What about the deer?" + +"What deer?" + +"The deer you killed and your friend claimed?" + +"Oh," said the Pike man, with sudden recollection, "I told Jack's +brother he might have it." + +"Now, that was kinder handsome, considerin' you'd killed your friend +on account of it." + +"There ain't nothin' mean about me," said the man from Pike County. + +"I see there ain't," said Mr. Bickford dryly. "It reminds me of a +little incident in my own life. I'll tell you about it, if you +hain't any objection." + +"Go ahead. It's your deal." + +"You see, the summer I was eighteen, my cousin worked for dad hayin' +time. He was a little older'n me, and he had a powerful appetite, +Bill had. If it wasn't for that, he'd 'a' been a nice feller enough, +but at the table he always wanted more than his share of wittles. +Now, that ain't fair, no ways--think it is, stranger?" + +"No! Go ahead with your story." + +"One day we sat down to dinner. Marm had made some apple-dumplin' +that day, and 'twas good, you bet. Well, I see Bill a-eyin' the +dumplin' as he shoveled in the meat and pertaters, and I knowed he +meant to get more'n his share. Now, I'm fond of dumplin' as well as +Bill, and I didn't like it. Well, we was both helped and went to +eatin'. When I was half through I got up to pour out some water. +When I cum back to the table Bill had put away his plate, which he +had cleaned off, and was eatin' my dumplin'." + +"What did you say?" inquired the gentleman from Pike, interested. + +"I said: 'Bill, you're my cousin, but you've gone too fur.' He +laffed, and we went into the field together to mow. He was just +startin' on his swath when I cum behind him and cut his head clean +off with my scythe." + +Joe had difficulty in suppressing his laughter, but Mr. Bickford +looked perfectly serious. + +"Why, that was butchery!" exclaimed the Pike man, startled. "Cut off +his head with a scythe?" + +"I hated to, bein' as he was my cousin," said Joshua, "but I couldn't +have him cum any of them tricks on me. I don't see as it's any wuss +than shootin' a man." + +"What did you do with his body?" asked Joe, commanding his voice. + +"Bein' as 'twas warm weather, I thought I'd better bury him at once." + +"Were you arrested?" + +"Yes, and tried for murder, but my lawyer proved that I was crazy +when I did it, and so I got off." + +"Do such things often happen at the North?" asked the Pike County man. + +"Not so often as out here and down South, I guess," said Joshua. +"It's harder to get off. Sometimes a man gets hanged up North for +handlin' his gun too careless." + +"Did you ever kill anybody else?" asked the Pike man, eying Joshua +rather uneasily. + +"No," said Mr. Bickford. "I shot one man in the leg and another in +the arm, but that warn't anything serious." + +It was hard to disbelieve Joshua, he spoke with such apparent +frankness and sincerity. The man from Pike County was evidently +puzzled, and told no more stories of his own prowess. Conversation, +died away, and presently all three were asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE EVENTS OF A NIGHT + +The Pike County man was the first to fall asleep. Joe and Mr. +Bickford lay about a rod distant from him. When their new comrade's +regular breathing, assured Joe that he was asleep, he said: + +"Mr. Bickford, what do you think of this man who has joined us?" + +"I think he's the biggest liar I ever set eyes on," said Joshua +bluntly. + +"Then you don't believe his stories?" + +"No--do you?" + +"I believe them as much as that yarn of yours about your Cousin +Bill," returned Joe, laughing. + +"I wanted to give him as good as he sent. I didn't want him to do +all the lyin'." + +"And you a deacon's son!" exclaimed Joe, in comic expostulation. + +"I don't know what the old man would have said if he'd heard me, or +Cousin Bill, either." + +"Then one part is true--you have a Cousin Bill?" + +"That isn't the only part that's true; he did help me and dad hayin'." + +"But his head is still safe on his shoulders?" + +"I hope so." + +"I don't think we can find as much truth in the story of our friend +over yonder." + +"Nor I. If there was a prize offered for tall lyin' I guess he'd +stand a good chance to get it." + +"Do you know, Joshua, fire-eater as he is, I suspect that he is a +coward." + +"You do?" + +"Yes, and I have a mind to put him to the test." + +"How will you do it?" + +"One day an old hunter came into my restaurant, and kept coming for a +week. He was once taken prisoner by the Indians, and remained in +their hands for three months. He taught me the Indian war-whoop, and +out of curiosity I practised it till I can do it pretty well." + +"What's your plan?" + +"To have you fire off your gun so as to wake him up. Then I will +give a loud war-whoop and see how it affects the gentleman from Pike +County." + +"He may shoot us before he finds out the deception." + +"It will be well first to remove his revolver to make all safe. I +wish you could give the war-whoop, too. It would make a louder +noise." + +"How do you do it?" + +Joe explained. + +"I guess I can do it. You start it, and I'll j'in in, just as I used +to do in singin' at meetin'. I never could steer through a tune +straight by myself, but when the choir got to goin', I helped 'em all +I could." + +"I guess you can do it. Now let us make ready." + +The Pike County man's revolver was removed while he was unconsciously +sleeping. Then Joshua and our hero ensconced themselves behind +trees, and the Yankee fired his gun. + +The Pike man started up, still half asleep and wholly bewildered, +when within a rod of him he heard the dreadful war-whoop. Then +another more discordant voice took up the fearful cry. Joshua did +very well considering that it was his first attempt. + +Then the man from Pike County sprang to his feet. If it had been +daylight, his face would have been seen to wear a pale and scared +expression. It did not appear to occur to him to make a stand +against the savage foes who he felt convinced were near at hand. He +stood not on the order of going, but went at once. He quickly +unloosed his beast, sprang upon his back, and galloped away without +apparently giving a thought to the companions with whom he had camped +out. + +When he was out of hearing Joe and Bickford shouted with laughter. + +"You see I was right," said Joe. "The man's a coward." + +"He seemed in a hurry to get away," said Joshua dryly. "He's the +biggest humbug out." + +"I thought so as soon as he began to brag so much." + +"I believed his yarns at first," admitted Joshua. "I thought he was +rather a dangerous fellow to travel with." + +"He looked like a desperado, certainly," said Joe, "but appearances +are deceitful. It's all swagger and no real courage." + +"Well, what shall we do now, Joe?" + +"Lie down again and go to sleep." + +"The man's gone off without his revolver." + +"He'll be back for it within a day or two. We shall be sure to fall +in with him again. I shan't lose my sleep worrying about him." + +The two threw themselves once more on the ground, and were soon fast +asleep. + + * * * * * + +Joe proved to be correct in his prediction concerning the +reappearance of their terrified companion. + +The next morning, when they were sitting at breakfast--that is, +sitting under a tree with their repast spread out on a paper between +them--the man from Pike County rode up. He looked haggard, as well +he might, not having ventured to sleep for fear of the Indians, and +his horse seemed weary and dragged out. + +"Where have you been?" asked Mr. Bickford innocently. + +"Chasin' the Indians," said the Rip-tail Roarer, swinging himself +from his saddle. + +"Sho! Be there any Indians about here?" + +"Didn't you hear them last night?" inquired the man from Pike. + +"No." + +"Nor you?" turning to Joe. + +"I heard nothing of any Indians," replied Joe truthfully. + +"Then all I can say is, strangers, that you sleep uncommon sound." + +"Nothing wakes me up," said Bickford. "What about them Indians? Did +you railly see any?" + +"I rather think I did," said the man from Pike. "It couldn't have +been much after midnight when I was aroused by their war-whoop. +Starting up, I saw twenty of the red devils riding through the canon." + +"Were you afraid?" + +"Afraid!" exclaimed the man from Pike contemptuously. "The Rip-tail +Roarer knows not fear. I can whip my weight in wildcats------" + +"Yes, I know you can," interrupted Joshua. "You told us so +yesterday." + +The man from Pike seemed rather annoyed at the interruption, but as +Mr. Bickford appeared to credit his statement he had no excuse for +quarreling. + +He proceeded. + +"Instantly I sprung to the back of my steed and gave them chase." + +"Did they see you?" + +"They did." + +"Why didn't they turn upon you? You said there were twenty of them." + +"Why?" repeated the Pike man boastfully. "They were afraid. They +recognized me as the Rip-tail Roarer. They knew that I had sent more +than fifty Indians to the happy hunting-grounds, and alone as I was +they fled." + +"Sho!" + +"Did you kill any of them?" asked Joe. + +"When I was some distance on my way I found I had left my revolver +behind. Did you find it, stranger?" + +"There it is," said Joshua, who had replaced it on the ground close +to where the Pike man had slept. + +He took it with satisfaction and replaced it in his girdle. + +"Then you didn't kill any?" + +"No, but I drove them away. They won't trouble you any more." + +"That's a comfort," said Joshua. + +"Now, strangers, if you've got any breakfast to spare, I think I +could eat some." + +"Set up, old man," said Mr. Bickford, with his mouth full. + +The man from Pike did full justice to the meal. Then he asked his +two companions, as a favor, not to start for two hours, during which +he lay down and rested. + +The three kept together that day, but did not accomplish as much +distance as usual, chiefly because of the condition of their +companion's horse. + +At night they camped out again. In the morning an unpleasant +surprise awaited them. Their companion had disappeared, taking with +him Joshua's horse and leaving instead his own sorry nag. That was +not all. He had carried off their bag of provisions, and morning +found them destitute of food, with a hearty appetite and many miles +away, as they judged, from any settlement. + +"The mean skunk!" said Joshua. "He's cleaned us out. What shall we +do?" + +"I don't know," said Joe seriously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +JOHN CHINAMAN + +The two friends felt themselves to be in a serious strait. The +exchange of horses was annoying, but it would only lengthen their +journey a little. The loss of their whole stock of provisions could +not so readily be made up. + +"I feel holler," said Joshua. "I never could do much before +breakfast. I wish I'd eat more supper. I would have done it, only I +was afraid, by the way that skunk pitched into 'em, we wouldn't have +enough to last." + +"You only saved them for him, it seems," said Joe. "He has certainly +made a poor return for our kindness." + +"If I could only wring his neck, I wouldn't feel quite so hungry," +said Joshua. + +"Or cut his head off with a scythe," suggested Joe, smiling faintly. + +"Danged if I wouldn't do it," said Mr. Bickford, hunger making him +bloodthirsty. + +"We may overtake him, Mr. Bickford." + +"You may, Joe, but I can't. He's left me his horse, which is clean +tuckered out, and never was any great shakes to begin with. I don't +believe I can get ten miles out of him from now till sunset." + +"We must keep together, no matter how slow we go. It won't do for us +to be parted." + +"We shall starve together likely enough," said Joshua mournfully. + +"I've heard that the French eat horse-flesh. If it comes to the +worst, we can kill your horse and try a horse-steak." + +"It's all he's fit for, and he ain't fit for that. We'll move on for +a couple of hours and see if somethin' won't turn up. I tell you, +Joe, I'd give all the money I've got for some of marm's johnny-cakes. +It makes me feel hungrier whenever I think of 'em." + +"I sympathize with you, Joshua," said Joe. "We may as well be movin' +on, as you suggest. We may come to some cabin, or party of +travelers." + +So they mounted their beasts and started. Joe went ahead, for his +animal was much better than the sorry nag which Mr. Bickford +bestrode. The latter walked along with an air of dejection, as if +life were a burden to him. + +"If I had this critter at home, Joe, I'll tell you what I'd do with +him," said Mr. Bickford, after a pause. + +"Well, what would you do with him?" + +"I'd sell him to a sexton. He'd be a first-class animal to go to +funerals. No danger of his runnin' away with the hearse." + +"You are not so hungry but you can joke, Joshua." + +"It's no joke," returned Mr. Bickford. "If we don't raise a supply +of provisions soon, I shall have to attend my own funeral. My mind +keeps running on them johnny-cakes." + +They rode on rather soberly, for the exercise and the fresh morning +air increased their appetites, which were keen when they started. + +Mr. Bickford no longer felt like joking, and Joe at every step looked +anxiously around him, in the hope of espying relief. + +On a sudden, Mr. Bickford rose in his Stirrups and exclaimed in a +tone of excitement: + +"I see a cabin!" + +"Where?" + +"Yonder," said the Yankee, pointing to a one-story shanty, perhaps a +quarter of a mile away. + +"Is it inhabited, I wonder?" + +"I don't know. Let us go and see." + +The two spurred their horses, and at length reached the rude building +which had inspired them with hope. The door was open, but no one was +visible. + +Joshua was off his horse in a twinkling and peered in. + +"Hooray!" he shouted in rejoicing accents. "Breakfast's ready." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I've found something to eat." + +On a rude table was an earthen platter full of boiled rice and a +stale loaf beside it. + +"Pitch in, Joe," said Joshua. "I'm as hungry as a wolf." + +"This food belongs to somebody. I suppose we have no right to it." + +"Right be hanged. A starving man has a right to eat whatever he can +find." + +"Suppose it belongs to a fire-eater, or a man from Pike County?" + +"We'll eat first and fight afterward." + +Joe did not feel like arguing the matter. There was an advocate +within him which forcibly emphasized Joshua's arguments, and he +joined in the banquet. + +"This bread is dry as a chip," said Mr. Bickford. "But no matter. I +never thought dry bread would taste so good. I always thought rice +was mean vittles, but it goes to the right place just now." + +"I wonder if any one will have to go hungry on our account?" said Joe. + +"I hope not, but I can't help it," returned Mr. Bickford. +"Necessity's the fust law of nature, Joe. I feel twice as strong as +I did twenty minutes ago." + +"There's nothing like a full stomach, Joshua. I wonder to whom we +are indebted for this repast?" + +Joe was not long in having his query answered. An exclamation, as of +one startled, called the attention of the two friends to the doorway, +where, with a terrified face, stood a Chinaman, his broad face +indicating alarm. + +"It's a heathen Chinee, by gosh!" exclaimed Joshua. + +Even at that time Chinese immigrants had begun to arrive in San +Francisco, and the sight was not wholly new either to Joshua or Joe. + +"Good morning, John," said our young hero pleasantly. + +"Good morning, heathen," said Mr. Bickford. "We thought we'd come +round and make you a mornin' call. Is your family well?" + +The Chinaman was reassured by the friendly tone of his visitors, and +ventured to step in. He at once saw that the food which he had +prepared for himself had disappeared. + +"Melican man eat John's dinner," he remarked in a tone of +disappointment. + +"So we have, John," said Mr. Bickford. "The fact is, we were +hungry--hadn't had any breakfast." + +"Suppose Melican man eat--he pay," said the Chinaman. + +"That's all right," said Joe; "we are willing to pay. How much do +you want?" + +The Chinaman named his price, which was not unreasonable, and it was +cheerfully paid. + +"Have you got some more bread and rice, John?" asked Mr. Bickford. +"We'd like to buy some and take it along." + +They succeeded in purchasing a small supply--enough with economy to +last a day or two. This was felt as a decided relief. In two days +they might fall in with another party of miners or come across a +settlement. + +They ascertained on inquiry that the Chinaman and another of his +nationality had come out like themselves to search for gold. They +had a claim at a short distance from which they had obtained a small +supply of gold. The cabin they had found in its present condition. +It had been erected and deserted the previous year by a party of +white miners, who were not so easily satisfied as the two Chinamen. + +"Well," said Joshua, after they had started on their way, "that's the +first time I ever dined at a Chinee hotel." + +"We were lucky in coming across it," said Joe. + +"The poor fellow looked frightened when he saw us gobblin' up his +provisions," said Mr. Bickford, laughing at the recollection. + +"But we left him pretty well satisfied. We didn't treat him as the +gentleman from Pike treated us." + +"No--I wouldn't be so mean as that darned skunk. It makes me mad +whenever I look at this consumptive boss he's left behind." + +"You didn't make much out of that horse trade, Mr. Bickford." + +"I didn't, but I'll get even with him some time if we ever meet +again." + +"Do you know where he was bound?" + +"No--he didn't say." + +"I dare say it'll all come right in the end. At any rate, we shan't +starve for the next forty-eight hours." + +So in better spirits the two companions kept on their way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +ON THE YUBA RIVER + +On the following day Joe and his comrade fell in with a party of men +who, like themselves, were on their way to the Yuba River. They were +permitted to join them, and made an arrangement for a share of the +provisions. This removed all anxiety and insured their reaching +their destination without further adventure. + +The banks of the Yuba presented a busy and picturesque appearance. +On the banks was a line of men roughly clad, earnestly engaged in +scooping out gravel and pouring it into a rough cradle, called a +rocker. This was rocked from side to side until the particles of +gold, if there were any, settled at the bottom and were picked out +and gathered into bags. At the present time there are improved +methods of separating gold from the earth, but the rocker is still +employed by Chinese miners. + +In the background were tents and rude cabins, and there was the +unfailing accessory of a large mining camp, the gambling tent, where +the banker, like a wily spider, lay in wait to appropriate the +hard-earned dust of the successful miner. + +Joe and his friend took their station a few rods from the river and +gazed at the scene before them. + +"Well, Mr. Bickford," said Joe, "the time has come when we are to try +our luck." + +"Yes," said Joshua. "Looks curious, doesn't it? If I didn't know, +I'd think them chaps fools, stoopin' over there and siftin' mud. It +'minds me of when I was a boy and used to make dirt pies." + +"Suppose we take a day and look round a little. Then we can find out +about how things are done, and work to better advantage." + +"Just as you say, Joe, I must go to work soon, for I hain't nary red." + +"I'll stand by you, Mr. Bickford." + +"You're a fust-rate feller, Joe. You seem to know just what to do." + +"It isn't so long since I was a greenhorn and allowed myself to be +taken in by Hogan." + +"You've cut your eye-teeth since then." + +"I have had some experience of the world, but I may get taken in +again." + +Joe and his friend found the miners social and very ready to give +them information. + +"How much do I make a day?" said one in answer to a question from +Joshua. "Well, it varies. Sometimes I make ten dollars, and from +that all the way up to twenty-five. Once I found a piece worth fifty +dollars. I was in luck then." + +"I should say you were," said Mr. Bickford. "The idea of findin' +fifty dollars in the river. It looks kind of strange, don't it, Joe?" + +"Are any larger pieces ever found here?" asked Joe. + +"Sometimes." + +"I have seen larger nuggets on exhibition in San Francisco, worth +several hundred dollars. Are any such to be found here?" + +"Generally they come from the dry diggings. We don't often find such +specimens in the river washings. But these are more reliable." + +"Can a man save money here?" + +"If he'll be careful of what he gets. But much of our dust goes +there." + +He pointed, as he spoke, to a small cabin, used as a store and +gambling den at one and the same time. There in the evening the +miners collected, and by faro, poker, or monte managed to lose all +that they had washed out during the day. + +"That's the curse of our mining settlement," said their informant. +"But for the temptations which the gaming-house offers, many whom you +see working here would now be on their way home with a comfortable +provision for their families. I never go there, but then I am in the +minority." + +"What did you used to do when you was to hum?" inquired Joshua, who +was by nature curious and had no scruples about gratifying his +curiosity. + +"I used to keep school winters. In the spring and summer I assisted +my father on his farm down in Maine." + +"You don't say you're from Maine? Why, I'm from Maine myself," +remarked Joshua. + +"Indeed! Whereabouts in Maine did you live?" + +"Pumpkin Hollow." + +"I kept school in Pumpkin Hollow one winter." + +"You don't say so? What is your name?" inquired Joshua earnestly. + +"John Kellogg." + +"I thought so!" exclaimed Mr. Bickford, excited. + +"Why, I used to go to school to you, Mr. Kellogg." + +"It is nine years ago, and you must have changed so much that I +cannot call you to mind." + +"Don't you remember a tall, slab-sided youngster of thirteen, that +used to stick pins into your chair for you to set on?" + +Kellogg smiled. + +"Surely you are not Joshua Bickford?" he said. + +"Yes, I am. I am that same identical chap." + +"I am glad to see you, Mr. Bickford," said his old school-teacher, +grasping Joshua's hand cordially. + +"It seems kinder queer for you to call me Mr. Bickford." + +"I wasn't so ceremonious in the old times," said Kellogg. + +"No, I guess not. You'd say, 'Come here, Joshua,' and you'd jerk me +out of my seat by the collar. 'Did you stick that pin in my chair?' +That's the way you used to talk. And then you'd give me an all-fired +lickin'." + +Overcome by the mirthful recollections, Joshua burst into an +explosive fit of laughter, in which presently he was joined by Joe +and his old teacher. + +"I hope you've forgiven me for those whippings, Mr. Bickford." + +"They were jest what I needed, Mr. Kellogg. I was a lazy young +rascal, as full of mischief as a nut is of meat. You tanned my hide +well." + +"You don't seem to be any the worse for it now." + +"I guess not. I'm pretty tough. I say, Mr. Kellogg," continued +Joshua, with a grin, "you'd find it a harder job to give me a lickin' +now than you did then." + +"I wouldn't undertake it now. I am afraid you could handle me." + +"It seems cur'us, don't it, Joe?" said Joshua. "When Mr. Kellogg +used to haul me round the schoolroom, it didn't seem as if I could +ever be a match for him." + +"We change with the passing years," said Kellogg, in a moralizing +tone, which recalled his former vocation. "Now you are a man, and we +meet here on the other side of the continent, on the banks of the +Yuba River. I hope we are destined to be successful." + +"I hope so, too," said Joshua, "for I'm reg'larly cleaned out." + +"If I can help you any in the sway of information, I shall be glad to +do so." + +Joe and Bickford took him at his word and made many inquiries, +eliciting important information. + +The next day they took their places farther down the river and +commenced work. + +Their inexperience at first put them at a disadvantage, They were +awkward and unskilful, as might have been expected. Still, at the +end of the first day each had made about five dollars. + +"That's something," said Joe. + +"If I could have made five dollars in one day in Pumpkin Hollow," +said Mr. Bickford, "I would have felt like a rich man. Here it costs +a feller so much to live that he don't think much of it." + +"We shall improve as we go along. Wait till to-morrow night." + +The second day brought each about twelve dollars, and Joshua felt +elated. + +"I'm gettin' the hang of it," said he. "As soon as I've paid up what +I owe you, I'll begin to lay by somethin'." + +"I don't want you to pay me till you are worth five hundred dollars, +Mr. Bickford. The sum is small, and I don't need it." + +"Thank you, Joe. You're a good friend. I'll stick by you if you +ever want help." + +In the evening the camp presented a lively appearance. + +When it was chilly, logs would be brought from the woods, and a +bright fire would be lighted, around which the miners would sit and +talk of home and their personal adventures and experiences. One +evening Mr. Bickford and Joe were returning from a walk, when, as +they approached the camp-fire, they heard a voice that sounded +familiar, and caught these words: + +"I'm from Pike County, Missouri, gentlemen. They call me the +Rip-tail Roarer. I can whip my weight in wildcats." + +"By gosh!" exclaimed Joshua, "if it ain't that skunk from Pike. I +mean to tackle him." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +JUDGE LYNCH PRONOUNCES SENTENCE + +The gentleman from Pike was sitting on a log, surrounded by miners, +to whom he was relating his marvelous exploits. The number of +Indians, grizzly bears, and enemies generally, which, according to +his account, he had overcome and made way with, was simply enormous. +Hercules was nothing to him. It can hardly be said that his +listeners credited his stories. They had seen enough of life to be +pretty good judges of human nature, and regarded them as romances +which served to while away the time. + +"It seems to me, my friend," said Kellogg, who, it will be +remembered, had been a schoolmaster, "that you are a modern Hercules." + +"Who's he?" demanded the Pike man suspiciously, for he had never +heard of the gentleman referred to. + +"He was a great hero of antiquity," exclaimed Kellogg, "who did many +wonderful feats." + +"That's all right, then," said the Pike man. "If you're friendly, +then I'm friendly. But if any man insults me he'll find he's tackled +the wrong man. I can whip my weight in wildcats------" + +Here he was subjected to an interruption. + +Mr. Bickford could no longer suppress his indignation when at a +little distance he saw his mustang, which this treacherous braggart +had robbed him of, quietly feeding. + +"Look here, old Rip-tail, or whatever you call yourself, I've got an +account to settle with you." + +The Pike man started as he heard Mr. Bickford's voice, which, being +of a peculiar nasal character, he instantly recognized. He felt that +the meeting was an awkward one, and he would willingly have avoided +it. He decided to bluff Joshua off if possible, and, as the best way +of doing it, to continue his game of brag. + +"Who dares to speak to me thus?" he demanded with a heavy frown, +looking in the opposite direction. "Who insults the Rip-tail Roarer?" + +"Look this way if you want to see him," said Joshua. "Put on your +specs if your eyes ain't good." + +The man from Pike could no longer evade looking at his late comrade. +He pretended not to know him. + +"Stranger," said he, with one hand on the handle of his knife, "are +you tired of life?" + +"I am neither tired of life nor afraid of you," said Joshua manfully. + +"You don't know me, or------" + +"Yes, I do. You're the man that says he can whip his weight in +wildcats. I don't believe you dare to face your weight in tame cats." + +"Sdeath!" roared the bully. "Do you want to die on the spot?" + +"Not particularly, old Rip-tail. Don't talk sech nonsense. I'll +trouble you to tell me why you stole my horse on the way out here." + +"Let me get at him," said the Pike man in a terrible voice, but not +offering to get up from the log. + +"Nobody henders your gettin' at me," said Mr. Bickford composedly. +"But that ain't answerin' my question." + +"If I didn't respect them two gentlemen too much, I'd shoot you where +you stand," said the Pike man. + +"I've got a shootin'-iron myself, old Rip-tail, and I'm goin' to use +it if necessary." + +"What have you to say in answer to this man's charge?" asked one of +the miners, a large man who was looked upon as the leader of the +company. "He charges you with taking his horse." + +"He lies!" said the man from Pike. + +"Be keerful, old Rip-tail," said Mr. Bickford in a warning tone. "I +don't take sass any more than you do." + +"I didn't steal your horse." + +"No, you didn't exactly steal it, but you took it without leave and +left your own bag of bones in his place. But that wasn't so bad as +stealin' all our provisions and leavin' us without a bite, out in the +wilderness. That's what I call tarnation mean." + +"What have you to say to these charges?" asked the mining leader +gravely. + +"Say? I say that man is mistaken. I never saw him before in my +life." + +"Well, that's cheeky," said Joshua, aghast at the man's impudence. +"Why, I know you as well as if we'd been to school together. You are +the Rip-tail Roarer. You are from Pike County, Missouri, you are. +You can whip your weight in wildcats. That's he, gentlemen. I leave +it to you." + +In giving the description, Joshua imitated the boastful accents of +his old comrade with such success that the assembled miners laughed +and applauded. + +"That's he! You've got him!" they cried. + +"Just hear that, old Rip-tail," said Mr. Bickford. "You see these +gentlemen here believe me and they don't believe you." + +"There's a man in this here country that looks like me," said the +Pike man, with a lame excuse. "You've met him, likely." + +"That won't go down, old Rip-tail. There ain't but one man can whip +his weight in wildcats and tell the all-firedest yarns out. That's +you, and there ain't no gettin' round it." + +"This is a plot, gentlemen," said the man from Pike, glancing +uneasily at the faces around him, in which he read disbelief of his +statements. "My word is as good as his." + +"Maybe it is," said Mr. Bickford. "I'll call another witness. Joe, +jest tell our friends here what you know about the gentleman from +Pike. If I'm lyin', say so, and I'll subside and never say another +word about it." + +"All that my friend Bickford says is perfectly true," said Joe +modestly. "This man partook of our hospitality and then repaid us by +going off early one morning when we were still asleep, carrying off +all our provisions and exchanging his own worn-out horse for my +friend's mustang, which was a much better animal." + +The man from Pike had not at first seen Joe. His countenance fell +when he saw how Mr. Bickford's case was strengthened, and for the +moment he could not think of a word to say. + +"You are sure this is the man, Joe?" asked, the leader of the miners. + +"Yes, I will swear to it. He is not a man whom it is easy to +mistake." + +"I believe you. Gentlemen," turning to the miners who were sitting +or standing about him, "do you believe this stranger or our two +friends?" + +The reply was emphatic, and the man from Pike saw that he was +condemned. + +"Gentlemen," he said, rising, "you are mistaken, and I am the victim +of a plot. It isn't pleasant to stay where I am suspected, and I'll +bid you good evening." + +"Not so fast!" said the leader, putting his hand heavily on his +shoulder. "You deserve to be punished, and you shall be. Friends, +what shall we do with him?" + +"Kill him! String him up!" shouted some. + +The Rip-tail Roarer's swarthy face grew pale as he heard these +ominous words. He knew something of the wild, stern justice of those +days. He knew that more than one for an offense like his had +expiated his crime with his life. + +"It seems to me," said the leader, "that the man he injured should +fix the penalty. Say you so?" + +"Aye, aye!" shouted the miners. + +"Will you two," turning to Joe and Bickford, "decide what shall be +done with this man? Shall we string him up?" + +The Pike man's nerve gave way. + +He flung himself on his knees before Joshua and cried: + +"Mercy! mercy! Don't let them hang me!" + +Joshua was not hard-hearted. He consulted with Joe and then said: + +"I don't want the critter's life. If there was any wild-cats round, +I'd like to see him tackle his weight in 'em, as he says he can. As +there isn't, let him be tied on the old nag he put off on me, with +his head to the horse's tail, supplied with one day's provisions, and +then turned loose!" + +This sentence was received with loud applause and laughter. + +The horse was still in camp and was at once brought out. The man +from Pike was securely tied on as directed, and then the poor beast +was belabored with whips till he started off at the top of his speed, +which his old owner, on account of his reversed position, was unable +to regulate. He was followed by shouts and jeers from the miners, +who enjoyed this act of retributive justice. + +"Mr. Bickford, you are avenged," said Joe, + +"So I am, Joe. I'm glad I've got my hoss back; but I can't help +pityin' poor old Rip-tail, after all. I don't believe he ever killed +a wildcat in his life." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +TAKING ACCOUNT OF STOCK + +Three months passed. They were not eventful. The days were spent in +steady and monotonous work; the nights were passed around the +camp-fire, telling and hearing, stories and talking of home. Most of +their companions gambled and drank, but Mr. Bickford and Joe kept +clear of these pitfalls. + +"Come, man, drink with me," more than once one of his comrades said +to Joshua. + +"No, thank you," said Joshua. + +"Why not? Ain't I good enough?" asked the other, half offended. + +"You mean I'm puttin' on airs 'cause I won't drink with you? No, +sir-ree. There isn't a man I'd drink with sooner than with you." + +"Come up, then, old fellow. What'll you take?" + +"I'll take a sandwich, if you insist on it." + +"That's vittles. What'll you drink?" + +"Nothing but water. That's strong enough for me." + +"Danged if I don't believe you're a minister in disguise." + +"I guess I'd make a cur'us preacher," said Joshua, with a comical +twist of his features. "You wouldn't want to hear me preach more'n +once." + +In this way our friend Mr. Bickford managed to evade the hospitable +invitations of his comrades and still retain their good-will--not +always an easy thing to achieve in those times. + +Joe was equally positive in declining to drink, but it was easier for +him to escape. Even the most confirmed drinkers felt it to be wrong +to coax a boy to drink against his will. + +There was still another--Kellogg--who steadfastly adhered to cold +water, or tea and coffee, as a beverage. These three were dubbed by +their companions the "Cold-Water Brigade," and accepted the +designation good-naturedly. + +"Joshua," said Joe, some three months after their arrival, "have you +taken account of stock lately?" + +"No," said Joshua, "but I'll do it now." + +After a brief time he announced the result. + +"I've got about five hundred dollars, or thereabouts," he said. + +"You have done a little better than I have." + +"How much have you?" + +"About four hundred and fifty." + +"I owe you twenty-five dollars, Joe. That'll make us even." + +Joshua was about to transfer twenty-five dollars to Joe, when the +latter stayed his hand. + +"Don't be in a hurry, Mr. Bickford," he said. "Wait till we get to +the city." + +"Do you know, Joe," said Joshua, in a tone of satisfaction, "I am +richer than I was when I sot out from home?" + +"I am glad to hear it, Mr. Bickford. You have worked hard, and +deserve your luck." + +"I had only three hundred dollars then; now I've got four hundred and +seventy-five, takin' out what I owe you." + +"You needn't take it out at all." + +"You've done enough for me, Joe. I don't want you to give me that +debt." + +"Remember, Joshua, I have got a business in the city paying me money +all the time. I expect my share of the profits will be more than I +have earned out here." + +"That's good. I wish I'd got a business like you. You'd be all +right even if you only get enough to pay expenses here." + +"That's so." + +"I am getting rather tired of this place, Mr. Bickford," said Joe, +after a little pause. + +"You don't think of going back to the city?" asked Joshua +apprehensively. + +"Not directly, but I think I should like to see a little more of +California. These are not the only diggings." + +"Where do you want to go?" + +"I haven't considered yet. The main thing is, will you go with me?" + +"We won't part company, Joe." + +"Good! Then I'll inquire, and see what I can find out about other +places. This pays fairly, but there is little chance of getting +nuggets of any size hereabouts." + +"I'd just like to find one worth two thousand dollars. I'd start for +home mighty quick, and give Sukey Smith a chance to become Mrs. +Bickford." + +"Success to you!" said Joe, laughing. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +A STARTLING TABLEAU + +Joe finally decided on some mines a hundred miles distant in a +southwesterly direction. They were reported to be rich and promising. + +"At any rate," said he, "even if they are no better than here, we +shall get a little variety and change of scene." + +"That'll be good for our appetite." + +"I don't think, Mr. Bickford, that either of us need be concerned +about his appetite. Mine is remarkably healthy." + +"Nothing was ever the matter with mine," said Joshua, "as long as the +provisions held out." + +They made some few preparations of a necessary character. Their +clothing was in rags, and they got a new outfit at the mining store. +Each also provided himself with a rifle. The expense of these made +some inroads upon their stock of money, but by the time they were +ready to start they had eight hundred dollars between them, besides +their outfit, and this they considered satisfactory. + +Kellogg at first proposed to go with them, but finally he changed his +mind. + +"I am in a hurry to get home," he said, "and these mines are a sure +thing. If I were as young as you, I would take the risk. As it is, +I had better not. I've got a wife and child at home, and I want to +go back to them as soon as I can." + +"You are right," said Joe. + +"I've got a girl at home," said Joshua, "but I guess she'll wait for +me." + +"Suppose she don't," suggested Joe. + +"I shan't break my heart," said Mr. Bickford. "There's more than one +girl in the world." + +"I see you are a philosopher, Mr. Bickford," said his old +schoolmaster. + +"I don't know about that, but I don't intend to make a fool of myself +for any gal. I shall say, 'Sukey, here I am; I've got a little +money, and I'm your'n till death if you say so. If you don't want +me, I won't commit susancide." + +"That's a capital joke, Joshua," said Joe. "Her name is Susan, isn't +it?" + +"Have I made a joke? Waal, I didn't go to do it." + +"It is unconscious wit, Mr. Bickford," said Kellogg. + +"Pooty good joke, ain't it?" said Joshua complacently. "Susan-cide, +and her name is Susan. Ho! ho! I never thought on't." + +And Joshua roared in appreciation of the joke which he had +unwittingly perpetrated, for it must be explained that he thought +susan-cide the proper form of the word expressing a voluntary +severing of the vital cord. + +Years afterward, when Joshua found himself the center of a social +throng, he was wont to say, "Ever heard that joke I made about +Susan?" and then he would cite it amid the plaudits of his friends. + +Mr. Bickford and Joe had not disposed of their horses. They had +suffered them to forage in the neighborhood of the river, thinking it +possible that the time would come when they would require them. + +One fine morning they set out from the camp near the banks of the +Yuba and set their faces in a southwesterly direction. They had made +themselves popular among their comrades, and the miners gave them a +hearty cheer as they started. + +"Good luck, Joe! Good luck, old man!" they exclaimed heartily. + +"The same to you, boy!" + +So with mutual good feeling they parted company. + +"We ain't leavin' like our friend from Pike County," said Mr. +Bickford. "I often think of the poor critter trottin' off with face +to the rear." + +"I hope we shan't meet him or any of his kind," said Joe. + +"So do I. He'd better go and live among the wildcats." + +"He is some like them. He lives upon others." + +It would only be wearisome to give a detailed account of the journey +of the two friends. One incident will suffice. + +On the fourth day Joe suddenly exclaimed in excitement: + +"Look, Joshua!" + +"By gosh!" + +The exclamation was a natural one. At the distance of forty rods a +man was visible, his hat off, his face wild with fear, and in +dangerous proximity a grizzly bear of the largest size doggedly +pursuing him. + +"It's Hogan!" exclaimed Joe in surprise. "We must save him." + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +A GRIZZLY ON THE WAR-PATH + +It may surprise some of my young friends to learn that the grizzly +bear is to be found in California. Though as the State has increased +in population mostly all have been killed off, even now among the +mountains they may be found, and occasionally visit the lower slopes +and attack men and beasts. + +Hogan had had the ill-luck to encounter one of these animals. + +When he first saw the grizzly there was a considerable space between +them. If he had concealed himself, he might have escaped the notice +of the beast, but when he commenced running the grizzly became aware +of his presence and started in pursuit. + +Hogan was rather dilapidated in appearance. Trusting to luck instead +of labor, he had had a hard time, as he might have expected. His +flannel shirt was ragged and his nether garments showed the ravages +of time. In the race his hat had dropped off and his rough, unkempt +hair was erect with fright. He was running rapidly, but was already +showing signs of exhaustion. The bear was getting over the ground +with clumsy speed, appearing to take it easily, but overhauling his +intended victim slowly, but surely. + +Joe and Bickford were standing on one side, and had not yet attracted +the attention of either party in this unequal race. + +"Poor chap!" said Joshua. "He looks most tuckered out. Shall I +shoot?" + +"Wait till the bear gets a little nearer. We can't afford to miss. +He will turn on us." + +"I'm in a hurry to roll the beast over," said Joshua. "It's a cruel +sight to see a grizzly hunting a man." + +At this moment Hogan turned his head with the terror-stricken look of +a man who felt that he was lost. + +The bear was little more than a hundred feet behind him and was +gaining steadily. He was already terribly fatigued--his breathing +was reduced to a hoarse pant. He was overcome by the terror of the +situation, and his remaining strength gave way. With a shrill cry he +sank down upon the ground, and, shutting his eyes, awaited the attack. + +The bear increased his speed. + +"Now let him have it!" said Joe in a sharp, quick whisper. + +Mr. Bickford fired, striking the grizzly in the face. + +Bruin stood still and roared angrily. He wagged his large head from +one side to the other, seeking by whom this attack was made. + +He espied the two friends, and, abandoning his pursuit of Hogan, +rolled angrily toward them. + +"Give it to him quick, Joe!" exclaimed Bickford. "He's making for +us." + +Joe held his rifle with steady hand and took deliberate aim. It was +well he did, for had he failed both he and Bickford would have been +in great peril. + +His faithful rifle did good service. + +The bear tumbled to the earth with sudden awkwardness. The bullet +had reached a vital part and the grizzly was destined to do no more +mischief. + +"Is he dead, or only feigning?" asked Joe prudently. + +"He's a gone coon," said Joshua. "Let us go up and look at him." + +They went up and stood over the huge beast. He was not quite dead. +He opened his glazing eyes, made a convulsive movement with his paws +as if he would like to attack his foes, and then his head fell back +and he moved no more. + +"He's gone, sure enough," said Bickford. "Good-by, old grizzly. You +meant well, but circumstances interfered with your good intentions." + +"Now let us look up Hogan," said Joe. + +The man had sunk to the ground utterly exhausted, and in his weakness +and terror had fainted. + +Joe got some water and threw it in his face. + +He opened his eyes and drew a deep breath. A sudden recollection +blanched his face anew, and he cried: + +"Don't let him get at me!" + +"You're safe, Mr. Hogan," said Joe. "The bear is dead." + +"Dead! Is he really dead?" + +"If you don't believe it, get up and look at him," said Bickford. + +"I can't get up--I'm so weak." + +"Let me help you, then. There--do you see the critter?" + +Hogan shuddered as he caught sight of the huge beast only twenty-five +feet distant from him. + +"Was he as near as that?" he gasped. + +"He almost had you," said Bickford. "If it hadn't been for Joe and +me, he'd have been munchin' you at this identical minute. Things +have changed a little, and in place of the bear eatin' you you shall +help eat the bear." + +By this time Hogan, realizing that he was safe, began to recover his +strength. As he did so he became angry with the beast that had +driven him such a hard race for life. He ran up to the grizzly and +kicked him. + +"Take that!" he exclaimed with an oath. "I wish you wasn't dead, so +that I could stick my knife into you." + +"If he wasn't dead you'd keep your distance," said Joshua dryly. "It +don't require much courage to tackle him now." + +Hogan felt this to be a reflection upon his courage. + +"I guess you'd have run, too, if he'd been after you," he said. + +"I guess I should. Bears are all very well in their place, but I'd +rather not mingle with 'em socially. They're very affectionate and +fond of hugging, but if I'm going to be hugged I wouldn't choose a +bear." + +"You seem to think I was a coward for runnin' from the bear." + +"No, I don't. How do I know you was runnin' from the bear? Maybe +you was only takin' a little exercise to get up an appetite for +dinner." + +"I am faint and weak," said Hogan. "I haven't had anything to eat +for twelve hours." + +"You shall have some food," said Joe. "Joshua, where are the +provisions? We may as well sit down and lunch." + +"Jest as you say, Joe. I most generally have an appetite." + +There was a mountain spring within a stone's throw. Joshua took a +tin pail and brought some of the sparkling beverage, which he offered +first to Hogan. + +Hogan drank greedily. His throat was parched and dry, and he needed +it. + +He drew a deep breath of relief. + +"I feel better," said he. "I was in search of a spring when that +cursed beast spied me and gave me chase." + +They sat down under the shade of a large tree and lunched. + +"What sort of luck have you had since you tried to break into my +restaurant, Mr. Hogan?" asked Joe. + +Hogan changed color. The question was an awkward one. + +"Who told you I tried to enter your restaurant?" he asked. + +"The man you brought there." + +"That wasn't creditable of you, Hogan," said Joshua, with his mouth +full. "After my friend Joe had given you a supper and promised you +breakfast, it was unkind to try to rob him. Don't you think so +yourself?" + +"I couldn't help it," said Hogan, who had rapidly decided on his +defense. + +"Couldn't help it?" said Joe in a tone of inquiry. "That's rather a +strange statement." + +"It's true," said Hogan. "The man forced me to do it." + +"How was that?" + +"He saw me comin' out of the restaurant a little while before, and +when he met me, after trying to rob me and finding that it didn't +pay, he asked me if I was a friend of yours. I told him I was. Then +he began to ask if you slept there at night and if anybody was with +you. I didn't want to answer, but he held a pistol at my head and +forced me to. Then he made me go with him. I offered to get in, +thinking I could whisper in your ear and warn you, but he wouldn't +let me. He stationed me at the window and got in himself. You know +what followed. As soon as I saw you were too strong for him I ran +away, fearing that he might try to implicate me in the attempt at +robbery." + +Hogan recited this story very glibly and in a very plausible manner. + +"Mr. Hogan," said Joe, "if I didn't know you so thoroughly, I might +be disposed to put confidence in your statements. As it is, I regret +to say I don't believe you." + +"Hogan," said Joshua, "I think you're one of the fust romancers of +the age. If I ever start a story-paper I'll engage you to write for +me." + +"I am sorry you do me so much injustice, gentlemen," said Hogan, with +an air of suffering innocence. "I'm the victim of circumstances." + +"I expect you're a second George Washington. You never told a lie, +did you?" + +"Some time you will know me better," said Hogan. + +"I hope not," said Joe. "I know you better now than I want to." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE NEW DIGGINGS + +When lunch-was over, Joe said: + +"Good day, Mr. Hogan. Look out for the grizzlies, and may you have +better luck in future." + +"Yes, Hogan, good by," said Joshua. "We make over to you all our +interest in the bear. He meant to eat you. You can revenge yourself +by eatin' him." + +"Are you going to leave me, gentlemen?" asked Hogan in alarm. + +"You don't expect us to stay and take care of you, do you?" + +"Let me go with you," pleaded Hogan. "I am afraid to be left alone +in this country. I may meet another grizzly, and lose my life." + +"That would be a great loss to the world," said Mr. Bickford, with +unconcealed sarcasm. + +"It would be a great loss to me," said Hogan. + +"Maybe that's the best way to put it," observed Bickford. "It would +have been money in my friend Joe's pocket if you had never been born." + +"May I go with you?" pleaded Hogan, this time addressing himself to +Joe. + +"Mr. Hogan," said Joe, "you know very well why your company is not +acceptable to us." + +"You shall have no occasion to complain," said Hogan earnestly. + +"Do you want us to adopt you, Hogan?" asked Joshua. + +"Let me stay with you till we reach the nearest diggings. Then I +won't trouble you any more." + +Joe turned to Bickford. + +"If you don't object," he said, "I think I'll let him come." + +"Let the critter come," said Bickford. "He'd be sure to choke any +grizzly that tackled him. For the sake of the bear, let him come." + +Mr. Hogan was too glad to join the party, on any conditions, to +resent the tone which Mr. Bickford employed in addressing him. He +obtained his suit, and the party of three kept on their way. + +As they advanced the country became rougher and more hilly. Here and +there they saw evidences of "prospecting" by former visitors. They +came upon deserted claims and the sites of former camps. But in +these places the indications of gold had not been sufficiently +favorable to warrant continued work, and the miners had gone +elsewhere. + +At last, however, they came to a dozen men who were busily at work in +a gulch. Two rude huts near-by evidently served as their temporary +homes. + +"Well, boys, how do you find it?" inquired Bickford, riding up. + +"Pretty fair," said one of the party. + +"Have you got room for three more?" + +"Yes--come along. You can select claims alongside and go to work if +you want to." + +"What do you say, Joe?" + +"I am in favor of it." + +"We are going to put up here, Hogan," said Mr. Bickford. "You can do +as you've a mind to. Much as we value your interestin' society, we +hope you won't put yourself out to stay on our account." + +"I'll stay," said Hogan. + +Joe and Joshua surveyed the ground and staked out their claims, +writing out the usual notice and posting it on a neighboring tree. +They had not all the requisite tools, but these they were able to +purchase at one of the cabins. + +"What shall I do?" asked Hogan. "I'm dead broke. I can't work +without tools, and I can't buy any." + +"Do you want to work for me?" asked Joshua. + +"What'll you give?" + +"That'll depend on how you work. If you work stiddy, I'll give you a +quarter of what we both make. I'll supply you with tools, but +they'll belong to me." + +"Suppose we don't make anything," suggested Hogan. + +"You shall have a quarter of that. You see, I want to make it for +your interest to succeed." + +"Then I shall starve." + +The bargain was modified so that Hogan was assured of enough to eat, +and was promised, besides, a small sum of money daily, but was not to +participate in the gains. + +"If we find a nugget, it won't do you any good. Do you understand, +Hogan?" + +"Yes, I understand." + +He shrugged his shoulders, having very little faith in any +prospective nuggets. + +"Then we understand each other. That's all I want." + +On the second day Joe and Mr. Bickford consolidated their claims and +became partners, agreeing to divide whatever they found. Hogan was +to work for them jointly. + +They did not find their hired man altogether satisfactory. He was +lazy and shiftless by nature, and work was irksome to him. + +"If you don't work stiddy, Hogan," said Joshua, "you can't expect to +eat stiddy, and your appetite is pretty reg'lar, I notice." + +Under this stimulus Hogan managed to work better than he had done +since he came out to California, or indeed for years preceding his +departure. Bickford and Joe had both been accustomed to farm work +and easily lapsed into their old habits. + +They found they had made a change for the better in leaving the banks +of the Yuba. The claims they were now working paid them better. + +"Twenty-five dollars to-day," said Joshua, a week after their +arrival. "That pays better than hoeing pertaters, Joe." + +"You are right, Mr. Bickford. You are ten dollars ahead of me. I am +afraid you will lose on our partnership." + +"I'll risk it, Joe." + +Hogan was the only member of the party who was not satisfied. + +"Can't you take me into partnership?" he asked. + +"We can, but I don't think we will, Hogan," said Mr. Bickford. + +"It wouldn't pay. If you don't like workin' for us, you can take a +claim of your own." + +"I have no tools." + +"Why don't you save your money and buy some, instead of gamblin' it +away as you are doin'?" + +"A man must have amusement," grumbled Hogan. "Besides, I may have +luck and win." + +"Better keep clear of gamblin', Hogan." + +"Mr. Hogan, if you want to start a claim of your own, I'll give you +what tools you need," said Joe. + +Upon reflection Hogan decided to accept this offer. + +"But of course you will have to find your own vittles now," said +Joshua. + +"I'll do it," said Hogan. + +The same day he ceased to work for the firm of Bickford & Mason, for +Joe insisted on giving Mr. Bickford the precedence as the senior +party, and started on his own account. + +The result was that he worked considerably less than before. Being +his own master, he decided not to overwork himself, and in fact +worked only enough to make his board. He was continually grumbling +over his bad luck, although Joshua told him plainly that it wasn't +luck, but industry, he lacked. + +"If you'd work like we do," said Bickford, "you wouldn't need to +complain. Your claim is just as good as ours, as far as we can tell." + +"Then let us go in as partners," said Hogan. + +"Not much. You ain't the kind of partner I want." + +"I was always unfortunate," said Hogan. + +"You were always lazy, I reckon. You were born tired, weren't you?" + +"My health ain't good," said Hogan. "I can't work like you two." + +"You've got a healthy appetite," said Mr. Bickford. "There ain't no +trouble there that I can see." + +Mr. Hogan had an easier time than before, but he hadn't money to +gamble with unless he deprived himself of his customary supply of +food, and this he was reluctant to do. + +"Lend me half-an-ounce of gold-dust, won't you?" he asked of Joe one +evening. + +"What do you want it for--to gamble with?" + +"Yes," said Hogan. "I dreamed last night that I broke the bank. All +I want is money enough to start me." + +"I don't approve of gambling, and can't help you." + +Hogan next tried Mr. Bickford, but with like result. + +"I ain't quite such a fool, Hogan," said the plain-spoken Joshua. + +About this time a stroke of good luck fell to Joe. bout three +o'clock one afternoon he unearthed a nugget which, at a rough +estimate, might be worth five hundred dollars. + +Instantly all was excitement in the mining-camp, not alone for what +he had obtained, but for the promise of richer deposits. Experienced +miners decided that he had, struck upon what is popularly called a +"pocket," and some of these are immensely remunerative. + +"Shake hands, Joe," said Bickford. "You're in luck." + +"So are you, Mr. Bickford. We are partners, you know." + +In less than an hour the two partners received an offer of eight +thousand dollars for their united claim, and the offer was accepted. + +Joe was the hero of the camp. All were rejoiced at his good fortune +except one. That one was Hogan, who from a little distance, jealous +and gloomy, surveyed the excited crowd. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +HOGAN'S DISCONTENT + +"Why don't luck come to me?" muttered Hogan to himself. "That green +country boy has made a fortune, while I, an experienced man of the +world, have to live from hand to mouth. It's an outrage!" + +The parties to whom Joe and his partner sold their claim were +responsible men who had been fortunate in mining and had a +bank-account in San Francisco. + +"We'll give you an order on our banker," they proposed. + +"That will suit me better than money down," said Joe. "I shall start +for San Francisco to-morrow, having other business there that I need +to look after." + +"I'll go too, Joe," said Joshua. "With my share of the +purchase-money and the nugget, I'm worth, nigh on to five thousand +dollars. What will dad say?" + +"And what will Susan Smith say?" queried Joe. + +Joshua grinned. + +"I guess she'll say she's ready to change her name to Bickford," said +he. + +"You must send me some of the cake, Mr. Bickford." + +"Just wait, Joe. The thing ain't got to that yet. I tell you, Joe, +I shall be somebody when I get home to Pumpkin Hollow with that pile +of money. The boys'll begin to look up to me then. I can't hardly +believe it's all true. Maybe I'm dreamin' it. Jest pinch my arm, +will you?" + +Joe complied with his request. + +"That'll do, Joe. You've got some strength in your fingers. I guess +it's true, after all." + +Joe observed with some surprise that Hogan did not come near them. +The rest, without exception, had congratulated them on their +extraordinary good luck. + +"Seems to me Hogan looks rather down in the mouth," said Joe to +Bickford. + +"He's mad 'cause he didn't find the nugget. That's what's the matter +with him. I say, Hogan, you look as if your dinner didn't agree with +you." + +"My luck don't agree with me." + +"You don't seem to look at things right. Wasn't you lucky the other +day to get away from the bear?" + +"I was unlucky enough to fall in with him." + +"Wasn't you lucky in meetin' my friend Joe in New York, and raisin' +money enough out of him to pay your passage out to Californy?" + +"I should be better off in New York. I am dead broke." + +"You'd be dead broke in New York. Such fellers as you always is dead +broke." + +"Do you mean to insult me, Mr. Bickford?" demanded Hogan irritably. + +"Oh, don't rare up, Hogan. It won't do no good. You'd ought to have +more respect for me, considerin' I was your boss once." + +"I'd give something for that boy's luck." + +"Joe's luck? Well, things have gone pretty well with turn; but that +don't explain all his success--he's willin' to work." + +"So am I." + +"Then go to work on your claim. There's no knowin' but there's a +bigger nugget inside of it. If you stand round with your hands in +your pockets, you'll never find it." + +"It's the poorest claim in the gulch," said Hogan discontentedly. + +"It pays the poorest because you don't work half the time." + +Hogan apparently didn't like Mr. Bickford's plainness of speech. He +walked away moodily, with his hands in his pockets. He could not +help contrasting his penniless position with the enviable position of +the two friends, and the devil, who is always in wait for such +moments, thrust an evil suggestion into his mind. + +It was this: + +He asked himself why could he not steal the nugget which Joe had +found? + +"He can spare it, for he has sold the claim for a fortune," Hogan +reasoned. "It isn't fair that he should have everything and I should +have nothing. He ought to have made me his partner, anyway. He +would if he hadn't been so selfish. I have just as much right to a +share in it as this infernal Yankee. I'd like to choke him." + +This argument was a very weak one, but a man easily persuades himself +of what he wants to do. + +"I'll try for it," Hogan decided, "this very night." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE NUGGET IS STOLEN. + +At this time Joe and Joshua were occupying a tent which they had +purchased on favorable terms of a fellow miner. + +They retired in good season, for they wished to start early on their +journey on the following morning. + +"I don't know as I can go to sleep," said Joshua. "I can't help +thinkin' of how rich I am, and what dad and all the folks will say." + +"Do you mean to go home at once, Mr. Bickford?" + +"Jest as soon as I can get ready. I'll tell you what I am goin' to +do, Joe. I'm goin' to buy a tip-top suit when I get to Boston, and a +gold watch and chain, and a breast-pin about as big as a saucer. +When I sail into Pumpkin Holler in that rig folks'll look at me, you +bet. There's old Squire Pennyroyal, he'll be disappointed for one." + +"Why will he be disappointed?" + +"Because he told dad I was a fool to come out here. He said I'd be +back in rags before a year was out. Now, the old man thinks a good +deal of his opinion, and he won't like it to find how badly he's +mistaken." + +"Then he would prefer to see you come home in rags?" + +"You bet he would." + +"How about Susan? Ain't you afraid she has married the store clerk?" + +Joshua looked grave for a moment. + +"I won't say but she has," said he; "but if she has gone and +forgotten about me jest because my back is turned, she ain't the gal +I take her for, and I won't fret my gizzard about her." + +"She will feel worse than you when she finds you have come back with +money." + +"That's so." + +"And you will easily find some one else," suggested Joe. + +"There's Sophrony Thompson thinks a sight of me," said Mr. Bickford. +"She's awful jealous of Susan. If Susan goes back on me, I'll call +round and see Sophrony." + +Joe laughed. + +"I won't feel anxious about you, Joshua," he said, "since I find you +have two girls to choose between." + +"Not much danger of breakin' my heart. It's pretty tough." + +There was a brief silence. + +Then Joshua said: + +"What are your plans, Joe? Shall you remain in San Francisco?" + +"I've been thinking, Mr. Bickford, that I would like to go home on a +visit. If I find that I have left my business in good hands in the +city, I shall feel strongly tempted to go home on the same steamer +with you." + +"That would be hunky," said Bickford, really delighted. "We'd have a +jolly time." + +I think we would. But, Mr. Bickford, I have no girls to welcome me +home, as you have." + +"You ain't old enough yet, Joe. You're a good-lookin' feller, and +when the time comes I guess you can find somebody." + +"I don't begin to trouble myself about such things yet," said Joe, +laughing. "I am only sixteen." + +"You've been through considerable, Joe, for a boy of sixteen. I wish +you'd come up to Pumpkin Holler and make me a visit when you're to +home." + +"Perhaps I can arrange to be present at your wedding, Mr. +Bickford--that is, if Susan doesn't make you wait too long." + +While this conversation was going on the dark figure of a man was +prowling near the tent. + +"Why don't the fools stop talking and go to sleep," muttered Hogan. +"I don't want to wait here all night." His wish was gratified. + +The two friends ceased talking and lay quite still. Soon Joe's deep, +regular breathing and Bickford's snoring convinced the listener that +the time had come to carry out his plans. + +With stealthy step he approached the tent, and stooping over gently +removed the nugget from under Joshua's head. There was a bag of +gold-dust which escaped his notice. The nugget was all he thought of. + +With beating heart and hasty step the thief melted into the darkness, +and the two friends slept on unconscious of their loss. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HOGAN'S FATE + +The sun was up an hour before Joe and Bickford awoke. When Joe +opened his eyes he saw that it was later than the hour he intended to +rise. He shook his companion. + +"Is it mornin'?" asked Bickford drowsily. + +"I should say it was. Everybody is up and eating breakfast. We must +prepare to set out on our journey." + +"Then it is time--we are rich," said Joshua, with sudden remembrance. +"Do you know, Joe, I hain't got used to the thought yet. I had +actually forgotten it." + +"The sight of the nugget will bring it to mind." + +"That's so." + +Bickford felt for the nugget, without a suspicion that the search +would be in vain. + +Of course he did not find it. + +"Joe, you are trying to play a trick on me," he said. "You've taken +the nugget." + +"What!" exclaimed Joe, starting. "Is it missing?" + +"Yes, and you know all about it. Where have you put it, Joe?" + +"On my honor, Joshua, I haven't touched it," said Joe seriously. +"Where did you place it?" + +"Under my head--the last thing before I lay down." + +"Are you positive of it?" + +"Certain, sure." + +"Then," said Joe, a little pale, "it must have been taken during the +night." + +"Who would take it?" + +"Let us find Hogan," said Joe, with instinctive suspicion. "Who has +seen Hogan?" + +Hogan's claim was in sight, but he was not at work. Neither was he +taking breakfast. + +"I'll bet the skunk has grabbed the nugget and cleared out," +exclaimed Bickford, in a tone of conviction. + +"Did you hear or see anything of him during the night?" + +"No--I slept too sound." + +"Is anything else taken?" asked Joe. "The bag of dust------" + +"Is safe. It's only the nugget that's gone." + +The loss was quickly noised about the camp. Such an incident was of +common interest. Miners lived so much in common--their property was +necessarily left so unguarded--that theft was something more than +misdemeanor or light offense. Stern was the justice which overtook +the thief in those days. It was necessary, perhaps, for it was a +primitive state of society, and the code which in established +communities was a safeguard did not extend its protection here. + +Suspicion fell upon Hogan at once. No one of the miners remembered +to have seen him since rising. + +"Did any one see him last night?" asked Joe. + +Kellogg answered. + +"I saw him near your tent," he said. "I did not think anything of +it. Perhaps if I had been less sleepy I should have been more likely +to suspect that his design was not a good one." + +"About what hour was this?" + +"It must have been between ten and eleven o'clock." + +"We did not go to sleep at once. Mr. Bickford and I were talking +over our plans." + +"I wish I'd been awake when the skunk come round," said Bickford. +"I'd have grabbed him so he'd thought an old grizzly'd got hold of +him." + +"Did you notice anything in his manner that led you to think he +intended robbery?" asked Kellogg. + +"He was complainin' of his luck. He thought Joe and I got more than +our share, and I'm willin' to allow we have; but if we'd been as lazy +and shif'less as Hogan we wouldn't have got down to the nugget at +all." + +An informal council was held, and it was decided to pursue Hogan. As +it was uncertain in which direction he had fled, it was resolved to +send out four parties of two men each to hunt him. Joe and Kellogg +went together, Joshua and another miner departed in a different +direction, and two other pairs started out. + +"I guess we'll fix him," said Mr. Bickford. "If he can dodge us all, +he's smarter than I think he is." + +Meanwhile Hogan, with the precious nugget in his possession, hurried +forward with feverish haste. The night was dark and the country was +broken. From time to time he stumbled over some obstacle, the root +of a tree or something similar, and this made his journey more +arduous. + +"I wish it was light," he muttered. + +Then he revoked his wish. In the darkness and obscurity lay his +hopes of escape. + +"I'd give half this nugget if I was safe in San Francisco," he said +to himself. + +He stumbled on, occasionally forced by his fatigue to sit down and +rest. + +"I hope I'm going in the right direction, but I don't know," he said +to himself. + +He had been traveling with occasional rests for four hours when +fatigue overcame him. He lay down to take a slight nap, but when he +awoke the sun was up. + +"Good Heaven!" he exclaimed in alarm. "I must have slept for some +hours. I will eat something to give me strength, and then I must +hurry on." + +He had taken the precaution to take some provisions with him, and he +began to eat them as he hurried along. + +"They have just discovered their loss," thought Hogan. "Will they +follow me, I wonder? I must be a good twelve miles away, and this is +a fair start. They will turn back before they have come as far as +this. Besides, they won't know in what direction I have come." + +Hogan was mistaken in supposing himself to be twelve miles away. In +reality, he was not eight. During the night he had traveled at +disadvantage, and taken a round-about way without being aware of it. +He was mistaken also in supposing that the pursuit would be easily +abandoned. Mining communities could not afford to condone theft, nor +were they disposed to facilitate the escape of the thief. More than +once the murderer had escaped, while the thief was pursued +relentlessly. All this made Hogan's position a perilous one. If he +had been long enough in the country to understand the feeling of the +people, he would not have ventured to steal the nugget. + +About eleven o'clock Hogan sat down to rest. He reclined on the +greensward near the edge of a precipitous descent. He did not dream +that danger was so close till he heard his name called and two men +came running toward him. Hogan, starting to his feet in dismay, +recognized Crane and Peabody, two of his late comrades. + +"What do you want?" he faltered, as they came within hearing. + +"The nugget," said Crane sternly. + +Hogan would have denied its possession if he could, but there it was +at his side. + +"There it is," he said. + +"What induced you to steal it?" demanded Crane. + +"I was dead broke. Luck was against me. I couldn't help it." + +"It was a bad day's work for you," said Peabody. "Didn't you know +the penalty attached to theft in the mining-camps?" + +"No," faltered Hogan, alarmed at the stem looks of his captors. +"What is it?" + +"Death by hanging," was the terrible reply. + +Hogan's face blanched, and he sank on his knees before them. + +"Don't let me be hung!" he entreated. "You've got the nugget back. +I've done no harm. No one has lost anything by me." + +"Eight of us have lost our time in pursuing you. You gave up the +nugget because you were forced to. You intended to carry it away." + +"Mercy! mercy! I'm a very unlucky man. I'll go away and never +trouble you again." + +"We don't mean that you shall," said Crane sternly. "Peabody, tie +his hands; we must take him back with us." + +"I won't go," said Hogan, lying down. "I am not going back to be +hung." + +It would obviously be impossible to carry a struggling man back +fifteen miles, or more. + +"We must hang you on the spot then," said Crane, producing a cord. +"Say your prayers; your fate is sealed." + +"But this is murder!" faltered Hogan, with pallid lips. + +"We take the responsibility." + +He advanced toward Hogan, who now felt the full horrors of his +situation. He sprang to his feet, rushed in frantic fear to the edge +of the precipice, threw up his arms, and plunged headlong. It was +done so quickly that neither of his captors was able to prevent him. + +They hurried to the precipice and looked over. A hundred feet below, +on a rough rock, they saw a shapeless and motionless figure, crushed +out of human semblance. + +"Perhaps it is as well," said Crane gravely. "He has saved us an +unwelcome task." + +The nugget was restored to its owners, to whom Hogan's tragical fate +was told. + +"Poor fellow!" said Joe soberly. "I would rather have lost the +nugget." + +"So would I," said Bickford. "He was a poor, shif'less critter; but +I'm sorry for him." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +HOW JOE'S BUSINESS PROSPERED + +Joe and his friend Bickford arrived in San Francisco eight days later +without having met with any other misadventure or drawback. He had +been absent less than three months, yet he found changes. A +considerable number of buildings had gone up in different parts of +the town during his absence. + +"It is a wonderful place," said Joe to his companion. + +"It is going to be a great city some day." + +"It's ahead of Pumpkin Holler already," said Mr. Bickford, "though +the Holler has been goin' for over a hundred years." + +Joe smiled at the comparison. He thought he could foresee the rapid +progress of the new city, but he was far from comprehending the +magnificent future that lay before it. A short time since, the +writer of this story ascended to the roof of the Palace Hotel, and +from this lofty elevation, a hundred and forty feet above the +sidewalk, scanned with delighted eyes a handsome and substantial +city, apparently the growth of a century, and including within its +broad limits a population of three hundred thousand souls. It will +not be many years before it reaches half-a-million, and may fairly be +ranked among the great cities of the world. + +Of course Joe's first visit was to his old place of business. He +received a hearty greeting from Watson, his deputy. + +"I am glad to see you, Joe," said he, grasping our hero's hand +cordially. "When did you arrive?" + +"Ten minutes ago. I have made you the first call." + +"Perhaps you thought I might have 'vamosed the ranch,'" said Watson, +smiling, "and left you and the business in the lurch." + +"I had no fears on that score," said Joe. "Has business been good?" + +"Excellent. I have paid weekly your share of the profits to Mr. +Morgan." + +"Am I a millionaire yet?" asked Joe. + +"Not quite. I have paid Mr. Morgan on your account"--here Watson +consulted a small account-book--"nine hundred and twenty-five +dollars." + +"Is it possible?" said Joe, gratified. "That is splendid." + +"Then you are satisfied?" + +"More than satisfied." + +"I am glad of it. I have made the same for myself and so have nearly +half made up the sum which I so foolishly squandered at the +gaming-table." + +"I am glad for you, Mr. Watson." + +"How have you prospered at the mines?" + +"I have had excellent luck." + +"I don't believe you bring home as much money as I have made for you +here." + +"Don't bet on that, Mr. Watson, for you would lose." + +"You don't mean to say that you have made a thousand dollars?" +exclaimed Watson, surprised. + +"I have made five thousand dollars within a hundred or two." + +"Is it possible!" ejaculated Watson. "You beat everything for luck, +Joe." + +"So he does," said Bickford, who felt that it was time for him to +speak. "It's lucky for me that I fell in with him. It brought me +luck, too, for we went into partnership together." + +"Have you brought home five thousand dollars, too?" asked Watson. + +"I've got about the same as Joe, and now I'm going home to marry +Susan Smith if she'll have me." + +"She'll marry a rich miner, Mr. Bickford. You needn't be concerned +about that." + +"I feel pretty easy in mind," said Joshua. + +"How soon do you sail?" + +"When does the next steamer go?" + +"In six days." + +"I guess it'll carry me." + +Watson turned to Joe. + +"I suppose you will now take charge of your own business?" said lie. +"I am ready to hand over my trust at any minute." + +"Would you object to retaining charge for--say for four months to +come?" asked Joe. + +"Object? I should be delighted to do it. I couldn't expect to make +as much money any other way." + +"You see, Mr. Watson, I am thinking of going home myself on a visit. +I feel that I can afford it, and I should like to see my old friends +and acquaintances under my new and improved circumstances." + +Watson was evidently elated at the prospect of continued employment +of so remunerative a character. + +"You may depend upon it that your interests are safe in my hands," +said he. "I will carry on the business as if it were my own. +Indeed, it will be for my interest to do so." + +"I don't doubt it, Mr. Watson. I have perfect confidence In your +management." + +Joe's next call was on his friend Morgan, by whom also he was +cordially welcomed. + +"Have you called on Watson?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Then he has probably given you an idea of how your business has gone +on during your absence. He is a thoroughly reliable man, in my +opinion. You were fortunate to secure his services." + +"So I think." + +"Have you done well at the mines?" asked Mr. Morgan doubtfully. + +"You hope so, but you don't feel confident?" said Joe, smiling. + +"You can read my thoughts exactly. I don't consider mining as +reliable as a regular business." + +"Nor I, in general, but there is one thing you don't take into +account." + +"What is that?" + +Mr. Bickford answered the question. + +"Joe's luck." + +"Then you have been lucky?" + +"How much do you think I have brought home?" + +"A thousand dollars?" + +"Five times that sum." + +"Are you in earnest?" asked Mr. Morgan, incredulous. + +"Wholly so." + +"Then let me congratulate you--on that and something else." + +"What is that?" + +"The lots you purchased, including the one on which your restaurant +is situated, have more than doubled in value." + +"Bully for you, Joe!" exclaimed Mr. Bickford enthusiastically. + +"It never rains but it pours," said Joe, quoting an old proverb. "I +begin to think I shall be rich some time, Mr. Morgan." + +"It seems very much like it." + +"What would you advise me to do, Mr. Morgan--sell out the lots at the +present advance?" + +"Hold on to them, Joe. Not only do that, but buy more. This is +destined some day to be a great city. It has a favorable location, +is the great mining center, and the State, I feel convinced, has an +immense territory fit for agricultural purposes. Lots here may +fluctuate, but they will go up a good deal higher than present +figures." + +"If you think so, Mr. Morgan, I will leave in your hands three +thousand dollars for investment in other lots. This will leave me, +including my profits from the business during my absence, nearly +three thousand dollars more, which I shall take East and invest +there." + +"I will follow your instructions, Joe, and predict that your real +estate investments will make you rich sooner than you think." + +"Joe," said Bickford, "I've a great mind to leave half of my money +with Mr. Morgan to be invested in the same way." + +"Do it, Mr. Bickford. That will leave you enough to use at home." + +"Yes--I can buy a farm for two thousand dollars and stock it for five +hundred more. Besides, I needn't pay more than half down, if I don't +want to." + +"A good plan," said Joe. + +"Mr. Morgan, will you take my money and invest it for me just like +Joe's? Of course I want you to take a commission for doing it." + +"With pleasure, Mr. Bickford, more especially as I have decided to +open a real estate office in addition to my regular business. You +and Joe will be my first customers. I shouldn't wonder if the two or +three thousand dollars you leave with me should amount in ten years +to ten thousand." + +"Ten thousand!" ejaculated Joshua, elated. "Won't I swell round +Pumpkin Holler when I'm worth ten thousand dollars!" + +Six days later, among the passengers by the steamer for Panama, were +Joseph Mason and Joshua Bickford. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +JOE'S WELCOME HOME + +On arriving in New York both Joe and Mr. Bickford bought new suits of +clothes. Mr. Bickford purchased a blue dress suit, resplendent with +brass buttons, and a gold watch and chain, which made a good deal of +show for the money. His tastes were still barbaric, and a quiet suit +of black would not have come up to his idea of what was befitting a +successful California miner. + +He surveyed himself before the tailor's glass with abundant +satisfaction. + +"I guess that'll strike 'em at home, eh, Joe?" he said. + +"You look splendid, Mr. Bickford." + +"Kinder scrumptious, don't I?" + +"Decidedly so." + +"I say, Joe, you'd better have a suit made just like this." + +Joe shuddered at the thought. In refinement of taste he was +decidedly ahead of his friend and partner. + +"I'm going to buy a second-hand suit," he said. + +"What!" ejaculated Joshua. + +Joe smiled. + +"I knew you'd be surprised, but I'll explain. I want people to think +at first that I have been unlucky." + +"Oh, I see," said Joshua, nodding; "kinder take 'em in." + +"Just so, Mr. Bickford." + +"Well, there is something in that." + +"Then I shall find out who my true friends are." + +"Just so." + + * * * * * + +It is not my purpose to describe Mr. Bickford's arrival in Pumpkin +Hollow, resplendent in his new suit. Joshua wouldn't have changed +places with the President of the United States on that day. His old +friends gathered about him, and listened open-mouthed to his stories +of mining life in California and his own wonderful exploits, which +lost nothing in the telling. He found his faithful Susan unmarried, +and lost no time in renewing his suit. He came, he saw, he conquered! + +In four weeks Susan became Mrs. Bickford, her husband became the +owner of the farm he coveted, and he at once took his place among the +prominent men of Pumpkin Hollow. In a few years he was appointed +justice of the peace, and became known as Squire Bickford. It may be +as well to state here, before taking leave of him, that his real +estate investments in San Francisco proved fortunate, and in ten +years he found himself worth ten thousand dollars. This to Joshua +was a fortune, and he is looked upon as a solid man in the town where +he resides. + +We now turn to Joe. + +Since his departure nothing definite had been heard of him. Another +boy had taken his place on Major Norton's farm, but he was less +reliable than Joe. + +"I am out of patience with that boy. I wish I had Joe back again." + +"Have you heard anything of Joe since he went away?" inquired Oscar. + +"Not a word." + +"I don't believe he went to California at all." + +"In that case we should have heard from him." + +"No, Joe's proud--poor and proud!" said Oscar. "I guess he's wished +himself back many a time, but he's too proud to own it." + +"Joe was good to work," said the major. + +"He was too conceited. He didn't know his place. He thought himself +as good as me," said Oscar arrogantly. + +"Most people seemed to like Joe," said the major candidly. + +"I didn't," said Oscar, tossing his head. "If he'd kept in his place +and realized that he was a hired boy, I could have got along well +enough with him." + +"I wish he would come back," said the major. "I would take him back." + +"I dare say he's had a hard time and would be humbler now," said +Oscar. + +At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and just afterward Joe +entered. + +He wore a mixed suit considerably the worse for wear and patched in +two or three places. There was a rip under the arm, and his hat, a +soft felt one, had become shapeless from long and apparently hard +usage. He stood in the doorway, waiting for recognition. + +"How do you do, Joe?" said Major Norton cordially. "I am glad to see +you." + +Joe's face lighted up. + +"Thank you, sir," he said. + +"Shake hands, Joe." + +Major Norton was mean in money matters, but he had something of the +gentleman about him. + +Oscar held aloof. + +"How do you do, Oscar?" + +"I'm well," said Oscar. "Have you been to California?" + +"Yes." + +"You don't seem to have made your fortune," said Oscar +superciliously, eying Joe's shabby clothing. + +"I haven't starved," said Joe. + +"Where did you get that suit of clothes?" asked Oscar. + +"I hope you'll excuse my appearance," said Joe. + +"Well, Joe, do you want to come back to your old place?" asked Major +Norton. "I've got a boy, but he doesn't suit me." + +"How much would you be willing to pay me, Major Norton?" + +The major coughed. + +"Well," said he, "I gave you your board and clothes before. That's +pretty good pay for a boy." + +"I'm older now." + +"I'll do the same by you, Joe, and give you fifty cents a week +besides." + +"Thank you for the offer, Major Norton. I'll take till to-morrow to +think of it." + +"You'd better accept it now," said Oscar. "Beggars shouldn't be +choosers." + +"I am not a beggar, Oscar," said Joe mildly. + +"You look like one, anyway," said Oscar bluntly. + +"Oscar," said Major Norton, "if Joe has been unlucky, you shouldn't +throw it in his teeth." + +"He went off expecting to make his fortune," said Oscar, in an +exulting tone. "He looks as if he had made it. Where are you going?" + +"I am going to look about the village a little. I will call again." + +After Joe went out Oscar said: + +"It does me good to see Joe come in rags. Serves him right for +putting on airs." + +On the main street Joe met Annie Raymond. + +"Why, Joe!" she exclaimed, delighted. "Is it really you?" + +"Bad pennies always come back," said Joe. + +"Have you---- I am afraid you have not been fortunate," said the +young lady, hesitating as she noticed Joe's shabby clothes. + +"Do you think less of me for that?" + +"No," said Annie Raymond warmly. "It is you I like, not your +clothes. You may have been unfortunate, but I am sure you deserved +success." + +"You are a true friend, Miss Annie, so I don't mind telling you that +I was successful." + +Annie Raymond looked astonished. + +"And these clothes--" she began. + +"I put on for Oscar Norton's benefit. I wanted to see how he would +receive me. He evidently rejoiced at my bad fortune." + +"Oscar is a mean boy. Joe, you must come to our house to supper." + +"Thank you, I will; but I will go round to the hotel and change my +clothes." + +"Never mind." + +"But I do mind. I don't fancy a shabby suit as long as I can afford +to wear a good one." + +Joe went to the hotel, took off his ragged clothes, put on a new and +stylish suit which he recently had made for him, donned a gold watch +and chain, and hat in the latest style, and thus dressed, his natural +good looks were becomingly set off. + +"How do I look now?" he asked, when he met Miss Annie Raymond at her +own door. + +"Splendidly, Joe. I thought you were a young swell from the city." + +After supper Annie said, her eyes sparkling with mischief: + +"Suppose we walk over to Major Norton's and see Oscar." + +"Just what I wanted to propose." + +Oscar was out in the front yard, when he caught sight of Joe and +Annie Raymond approaching. He did not at first recognize Joe, but +thought, like the young lady, that it was some swell from the city. + +"You see I've come again, Oscar," said Joe, smiling. + +Oscar could not utter a word. He was speechless with astonishment. + +"I thought you were poor," he uttered, at last. + +"I have had better luck than you thought." + +"I suppose you spent all your money for those clothes." + +"You are mistaken, Oscar. I am not so foolish. I left between two +and three thousand dollars in a New York bank, and I have more than +twice that in San Francisco." + +"It isn't possible!" exclaimed Oscar, surprised and disappointed. + +"Here is my bank-book; you can look at it," and Joe pointed to a +deposit of twenty-five hundred dollars. "I don't think, Oscar, it +will pay me to accept your father's offer and take my old place." + +"I don't understand it. How did you do it?" asked the bewildered +Oscar. + +"I suppose it was my luck," said Joe. + +"Not wholly that," said Annie Raymond. "It was luck and labor." + +"I accept the amendment, Miss Annie." + +Oscar's manner changed at once. Joe, the successful Californian, was +very different from Joe, the hired boy. He became very attentive to +our hero, and before he left town condescended to borrow twenty +dollars of him, which he never remembered to repay. He wanted to go +back to California with Joe, but his father would not consent. + +When Joe returned to San Francisco, by advice of Mr. Morgan he sold +out his restaurant to Watson and took charge of Mr. Morgan's real +estate business. He rose with the rising city, became a very rich +man, and now lives in a handsome residence on one of the hills that +overlook the bay. He has an excellent wife--our old friend, Annie +Raymond--and a fine family of children. His domestic happiness is +by no means the smallest part of Joe's luck. + + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Joe's Luck, by Horatio Alger, Jr. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOE'S LUCK *** + +***** This file should be named 12823.txt or 12823.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/8/2/12823/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/old/12823.zip b/old/old/12823.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..732ad6c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/12823.zip |
