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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Young Explorer, by Horatio Alger
+(#13 in our series by Horatio Alger)
+
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+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: The Young Explorer
+
+Author: Horatio Alger
+
+Release Date: May, 2004  [EBook #5623]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on July 24, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE YOUNG EXPLORER ***
+
+
+
+
+This eBook was created by Charles Aldarondo (pg@aldarondo.net).
+
+
+
+THE YOUNG EXPLORER
+
+OR
+
+CLAIMING HIS FORTUNE
+
+BY
+
+HORATIO ALGER, JR.
+
+NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+
+
+
+I. Ben's Inheritance
+
+II. Deacon Pitkin's Offer
+
+III. Sam Sturgis' New Idea
+
+IV. A Brilliant Chance
+
+V. In Search of a Place
+
+VI. Mr. Fitch, The Senior Partner
+
+VII. Ben's Dinner Guest
+
+VIII. A Strange Acquaintance
+
+IX. At the Astor House
+
+X. Ben Receives a Call
+
+XI. Miss Sinclair's Stratagem
+
+XII. In San Francisco
+
+XIII. Preliminary Arrangements
+
+XIV. The Canon Hotel
+
+XV. A Polite Hostess
+
+XVI. A New Acquaintance
+
+XVII. A Tight Place
+
+XVIII. An Evening Call
+
+XIX. Ben's Midnight Excursion
+
+XX. A Thief's Disappointment
+
+XXI. Ben's Savings-Bank
+
+XXII. The Arrival at Murphy's
+
+XXIII. Among the Sierras
+
+XXIV. Beaten at His Own Game
+
+XXV. The Horse-Thieves
+
+XXVI. What Next?
+
+XXVII Ki Sing
+
+XXVIII. The Duel of the Miners
+
+XXIX. Chinese Cheap Labor
+
+XXX. A Midnight Visit
+
+XXXI. On the Mountain Path
+
+XXXII. The Mountain Cabin
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE YOUNG EXPLORER
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+BEN'S INHERITANCE.
+
+
+
+
+
+"I've settled up your father's estate, Benjamin," said Job Stanton.
+"You'll find it all figgered out on this piece of paper. There was
+that two-acre piece up at Rockville brought seventy-five dollars,
+the medder fetched a hundred and fifty, the two cows--"
+
+"How much does it all come to, Uncle Job?" interrupted Ben, who was
+impatient of details.
+
+"Hadn't you better let me read off the items, nephew?" asked Job,
+looking over his spectacles.
+
+"No, Uncle Job. I know you've done your best for me, and there's no
+need of your going through it all. How much is there left after all
+expenses are paid?"
+
+"That's what I was a-comin' to, Ben. I make it out that there's
+three hundred and sixty-five dollars and nineteen cents. That's a
+dollar for every day in the year. It's a good deal of money, Ben."
+
+"So it is, Uncle Job," answered Ben, and he was quite sincere. There
+are not many boys of sixteen to whom this would not seem a large
+sum.
+
+"You're rich; that is, for a boy," added Uncle Job.
+
+"It's more than I expected, uncle. I want you to take fifteen
+dollars and nineteen cents. That'll leave me just three hundred and
+fifty."
+
+"Why should I take any of your money, nephew?"
+
+"You've had considerable trouble in settling up the estate, and it's
+taken a good deal of your time, too."
+
+"My time ain't of much vally, and as to the trouble, it's a pity ef
+I can't take some trouble for my brother's son. No, Ben, I won't
+take a cent. You'll need it all."
+
+"But you said yourself it was a good deal of money for a boy, Uncle
+Job."
+
+"So it is, but it's all you've got. Most boys have fathers to take
+care of 'em, while you're alone in the world."
+
+"Yes I am alone in the world," said Ben sadly, his cheerful face
+clouding over.
+
+"But you've got an uncle, lad," continued Job Stanton, laying his
+hand gently on the boy's shoulder. "He's a poor man, but as much as
+in him lies, he'll be your friend and helper."
+
+"I know it, Uncle Job. You've always been kind to me."
+
+"And allus will be, Ben. Now, Ben, I've got a plan for you. I don't
+know what you'll think of it, but it's the best I've been able to
+think of."
+
+"What is it, Uncle Job?"
+
+"Ef you'll stay with me and help me in the shop, I'll give you a
+home, such as it is, and fifty dollars a year toward your clothes.
+Your Aunt Hannah and your Cousin Jane want you to make your home
+with us."
+
+"I'm very much obliged to you, Uncle Job," said Ben slowly.
+
+"You needn't be, boy. It's a sort of mutooal arrangement. It'll be
+as good for me as for you. You can put your money in the bank, and
+let it stay till you're twenty-one. Why, it'll be nigh on to five
+hunderd dollars by that time."
+
+"I'm much obliged to you, Uncle Job, as I said before, but there's
+one thing in the way."
+
+"What's that, Ben?"
+
+"I don't like shoemaking."
+
+"Perhaps it isn't genteel enough for you, Ben," said his uncle.
+
+"I don't care for that, Uncle Job, but I don't like being shut up in
+a shop. Besides, it doesn't give steady work. Last year you were
+without work at least a third of the time."
+
+"So I was, Ben," said Job. "I'm willin' to own that's a great
+drawback."
+
+"And it isn't likely to be any better hereafter. Last year was as
+good as the average."
+
+"It was better," Job admitted. "The year before I was out of work
+five months."
+
+"Well, Uncle Job, I want to work at something that'll give me
+employment all the year round."
+
+"So do I, Ben, but I don't see what you can find, unless you go to
+work on a farm. You're used to that, and I guess you could find a
+chance before long. There's Deacon Pitkin wants a boy, and would be
+glad of the chance of gettin' you."
+
+"I suppose he would," said Ben, laughing. "Would you advise me to go
+there?"
+
+"Well, there might be some objections, but-"
+
+"You know I wouldn't get enough to eat, Uncle Job," interrupted
+Ben. "Why, Deacon Pitkin's the meanest man in the village."
+
+"You mustn't be hasty in your judgments, nephew."
+
+"I'm not. I know what I'm talking about. I worked for the deacon two
+days once. He gave me ten cents a day and board-and such board! Why,
+I got up from the table hungry every meal, and yet the deacon
+reported afterward that I was a great eater. Mrs. Pitkin cuts a
+small pie into eight pieces, each about two mouthfuls, and when I
+asked for a second piece, she asked if I was allowed to have two
+pieces at home."
+
+"What did you say?" asked Uncle Job, evidently amused.
+
+"I said yes, and that each piece was twice as big as she gave."
+
+"I'm afraid that was rather forward, Ben. Did she say anything to
+that?"
+
+"She said I must be very greedy, and that boys always ate more'n was
+good for 'em. No, Uncle Job, I don't care to work for Deacon
+Pitkin."
+
+"Have you formed any plans, Ben? You don't want to go on a farm, and
+you don't want to go into a shoeshop, and that's about all you can
+find to do in Hampton."
+
+"I don't mean to stay in Hampton," said Ben quietly.
+
+"Don't mean to stay in Hampton!" exclaimed Uncle Joe, amazed.
+
+"No, uncle. There's a good many places besides Hampton in the
+world."
+
+"So there is, Ben," answered Uncle Job, with a disregard of grammar
+more excusable than his nephew's, for he had never had any special
+educational advantages,-"so there is, but you don't know anybody in
+them other places."
+
+"It won't take me long to get acquainted," returned Ben, not at all
+disturbed by this consideration.
+
+"Where do you want to go?"
+
+"I want to go to California."
+
+"Gracious sakes! Want to go to California!" gasped Job. "What put
+that idee into your head?"
+
+"A good many people are going there, and there's a chance to get
+rich quick out among the gold-mines."
+
+"But you're only a boy."
+
+"I'm a pretty large boy, Uncle Job," said Ben complacently, "and I'm
+pretty strong."
+
+"So you be, Ben, but it takes more than strength."
+
+"What more, Uncle Job?"
+
+"It takes judgment."
+
+"Can't a boy have judgment?"
+
+"Waal, he may have some, but you don't often find an old head on
+young shoulders."
+
+"I know all that, uncle, but I can work if I am a boy."
+
+"I know you're willin' to work, Ben, but it'll cost a sight of money
+to get out to Californy to start with."
+
+"I know that. It will take two hundred dollars."
+
+"And that's more'n half of all you've got. It seems to me temptin'
+Providence to spend such a sight of money for the chance of earning
+some on t'other side of the world, when you can get a livin' here
+and put all your money in the bank."
+
+"In five years it would only amount to five hundred dollars, and if
+I go to California, I expect to be worth a good deal more than that
+before two years are past."
+
+"I'm afraid you've got large idees, Ben."
+
+"You won't interfere with my going, Uncle Job?" asked Ben anxiously.
+
+"I won't actooly interfere, but I'll do all I can to have you give
+it up."
+
+"But if my mind is set upon it, you'll let me go, won't you, uncle?"
+
+"I suppose I must," said Job Stanton. "A wilful lad must have his
+way. But you mustn't blame me if things turn out unlucky."
+
+"No, I shall only blame myself."
+
+"There's one promise you must make me," said his uncle.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"Take a week to consider whether you hadn't better take my advice
+and stay at home."
+
+"Yes, uncle, I'll promise that."
+
+"And you'll think it over in all its bearin's?"
+
+"Yes, uncle."
+
+"It ain't best to take any important step without reflection, Ben."
+"You're right, uncle."
+
+This conversation took place in Job Stanton's little shoe-shop, only
+a rod distant from the small, plain house which he had occupied ever
+since he had been married. It was interrupted by the appearance of a
+pretty girl of fourteen, who, presenting herself at the door of the
+shop, called out:
+
+"Supper's ready, father."
+
+"So are we, Jennie," said Ben, promptly.
+
+"You are always ready to eat, Ben," said his cousin, smiling.
+
+"That's what Mrs. Pitkin used to think, Jennie. She used to watch
+every mouthful I took."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+DEACON PITKIN'S OFFER.
+
+
+
+
+
+Ben's father had died three months before. He had lost his mother
+when ten years old, and having neither brother nor sister was left
+quite alone in the world. At one time his father had possessed a few
+thousand dollars, but by unlucky investments he had lost nearly all,
+so that Ben's inheritance amounted to less than four hundred
+dollars.
+
+This thought troubled Mr. Stanton, and on his death-bed he spoke
+about it to his son.
+
+"I shall leave you almost destitute, Ben," he said. "If I had acted
+more wisely it would have been different."
+
+"Don't trouble yourself about that, father," said Ben promptly. "I
+am young and strong, and I shall be sure to get along."
+
+"You will have to work hard, and the world is a hard taskmaster."
+
+"I don't feel afraid, father. I am sure I shall succeed."
+
+The dying father was cheered by Ben's confident words. Our hero was
+strong and sturdy, his limbs active, and his face ruddy with health.
+He looked like a boy who could get along. He was not a sensitive
+plant, and not to be discouraged by rebuffs. The father's brow
+cleared.
+
+"I am glad you are not afraid to meet what is in store for you," he
+said. "I believe you will do your part, and God helps those who help
+themselves."
+
+After his father's death, Ben became an inmate of his uncle's family
+while the estate was being settled. He paid for his board partly by
+work in the shop, and partly by doing chores. This brings us to the
+day when the conversation detailed in the first chapter took place.
+
+On the following morning Ben was sent on an errand to the village
+store. On his way he overtook Deacon Pitkin.
+
+"Good mornin', Ben!" said the deacon. "Where are you goin'?"
+
+"To the store, sir."
+
+"So am I. Ef you ain't in a hurry, le'ss walk along together."
+
+"All right, sir," answered Ben. "I think I know what's comin," he
+said to himself.
+
+"You're stayin' at your Uncle Job's, ain't you?" asked Deacon
+Pitkin.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You don't calc'late to keep on there, do you?"
+
+"No, sir; he would like to have me stay and work in the shop, but I
+don't fancy shoemaking."
+
+"Jest so. I wouldn't ef I was you. It's an onsartin business.
+There's nothin' like farmin' for stiddy work."
+
+"The old man kept me at work pretty stiddy," thought Ben. "He'd
+always find something for me to do."
+
+"'Ive been thinkin' that I need a boy about your age to help me on
+my farm. I ain't so young as I was, and I've got a crick in my back.
+I don't want a man-"
+
+"You'd have to pay him too high wages," Ben said to himself.
+
+"A strong, capable boy like you could give me all the help I need."
+
+"I expect I could," said Ben demurely.
+
+"I was sayin' to Mrs. Pitkin this mornin' that I thought it would be
+a good plan to take you till you was twenty-one."
+
+"What did she say?" asked Ben, interested.
+
+"Waal, she didn't say much," answered the deacon slowly; "but I
+guess she hasn't no objections."
+
+"Didn't she say that I had an awful appetite?" asked Ben, smiling.
+
+"She said you was pretty hearty," answered the deacon, rather
+surprised at Ben's penetration. "Boys should curb their appetites."
+
+"I don't think I could curb mine," said Ben thoughtfully.
+
+"I guess there wouldn't be any trouble about that," returned the
+deacon, whose meanness ran in a different channel from his wife's,
+and who took less note of what was eaten at his table. "Ef you think
+you'd like to engage, and we could make a bargain, you might begin
+next week."
+
+"Jest so," said Ben.
+
+The deacon looked at him rather sharply, but Ben didn't appear to
+intend any disrespect in repeating his favorite phrase.
+
+"Did your father leave you much?" inquired Deacon Pitkin.
+
+"A few hundred dollars," said Ben carelessly.
+
+"Indeed!" said the deacon, gratified. "What are you goin' to do with
+it?"
+
+"Uncle Job thinks it would be best to put it in the bank."
+
+"Jest so. It would fetch you some interest every year-enough to
+clothe you, likely. I'll tell you what I'll do, Ben. I'll give you
+your board the first year, and your interest will buy your clothes.
+The second year I'll give you twenty dollars and board, and maybe
+twenty more the third year."
+
+Ben shook his head.
+
+"I guess we can't make a bargain, Deacon Pitkin," he said.
+
+Deacon Pitkin knew that he had made a very mean offer, and felt that
+he could afford to increase it somewhat; but he was a close hand at
+a bargain, and meant to get Ben as cheap as he could.
+
+"What was you expectin'?" he asked cautiously. "You must remember
+that you're only a boy, and can't expect men's wages."
+
+Ben had no idea, as we know, of engaging to work for Deacon Pitkin
+at all; but he decided that the easiest way to avoid it was to put
+such a value on his services as to frighten the old man.
+
+"I am almost as strong as a man," he said, "and I can earn a great
+deal more than my board the first year."
+
+"I might be willin' to give you twenty dollars the first year," said
+the deacon.
+
+"I've been thinking," said Ben soberly, "that I ought to have a
+hundred and fifty dollars and board the first year."
+
+Deacon Pitkin fairly gasped for breath. He was fairly overpowered by
+Ben's audacity.
+
+"A-hundred-and-fifty-dollars!" he ejaculated, turning his wrinkled
+face toward our hero.
+
+"That's about the figure," said Ben cheerfully. "A hundred and fifty
+dollars and board, or three hundred dollars, and I'll board with my
+uncle."
+
+"Is the boy crazy?" asked the deacon, in a bewildered tone.
+
+"You'd have to pay a man as much as twenty dollars a month," pursued
+Ben. "That's about a hundred dollars a year more."
+
+"Benjamin," said the deacon solemnly, "do you want to ruin me?"
+
+"No, sir, I hope not," answered our hero innocently.
+
+"Then why do you ask such an unheard-of price?"
+
+"I think I'm worth it," said Ben.
+
+"Boys haven't much jedgment," said the deacon. "You'd better let me
+talk over this matter with your Uncle Job."
+
+"It won't be any use, Deacon Pitkin. Uncle Job won't interfere with
+me."
+
+"You can't get such wages anywhere. You'll have to work for less."
+
+"Perhaps I can't get my price in Hampton," said Ben.
+
+"Of course you can't. There ain't no one goin' to pay you men's
+wages."
+
+"Perhaps you are right, Deacon Pitkin. In that case, my mind is made
+up."
+
+"What will you do?" asked the deacon, showing some curiosity.
+
+"I'll leave town."
+
+"It's a resky thing, Benjamin. You ain't old enough to take care of
+yourself."
+
+"I think I can do it. Deacon Pitkin. I am not afraid to try. Still,
+if you'll give me a hundred and fifty dollars and board--"
+
+"You must think I'm crazy," said the deacon hastily. "I don't throw
+money away that way."
+
+"Then I'm afraid we can't make a bargain, deacon. Here is the store,
+and I'll bid you good morning."
+
+"If you think better of my offer, you can let me know, Benjamin. You
+can talk it over with your uncle."
+
+"All right, sir. If you think better of mine, just let me know
+within a week, or I may be gone from Hampton."
+
+"That's a cur'us boy," said the deacon meditatively. "He's got the
+most conceited idea of his vally to work of any boy I ever came
+across. A hundred and fifty dollars and board! What'll Mrs. Pitkin
+say when I tell her? She ain't much sot on the boy's comin' anyway.
+She thinks he's too hearty; but I don't mind that, so much. He's
+strong and good to work, an' he's the only boy in town that would
+suit me."
+
+"I wonder what the deacon thinks of me," soliloquized Ben. "I
+thought I should scare him a little when I named my price. If I'd
+thought he would take me at that figure, I'd have said more. It
+wouldn't suit me to work for him at all."
+
+In the evening Deacon Pitkin came over to see Job Stanton, and
+renewed his offer for Ben's services.
+
+"The boy's got wild idees about pay," he said; "but boys haven't
+much jedgment. You're a sensible man, Mr. Stanton, and you and me
+can make a fair bargain."
+
+"It won't be of much use, Deacon Pitkin. Ben's got his idees, an' he
+sticks to 'em."
+
+"But you're his uncle. You can make him see his true interest."
+
+"Ben's young," said Job, suspending his work; "but he's got to look
+out for himself. He may make mistakes, but I've promised not to
+interfere. I've got confidence in him that he'll come out right in
+the end. Truth is, deacon, he don't want to work at farmin', and
+that's why he asked you such a steep price. He knew you wouldn't
+agree to give it."
+
+This put the matter in a new light, and Deacon Pitkin reluctantly
+concluded that he must abandon the idea of obtaining Ben as a helper
+on his farm.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+SAM STURGIS' NEW IDEA.
+
+
+
+
+
+During the week which Ben had agreed to take before coming to a
+final decision, he had another offer of employment.
+
+This is how it came about:
+
+A little out of the village, in a handsome house, the best in
+Hampton, lived Major Sturgis, a wealthy landholder, who had plenty
+to live upon and nothing in particular to do, except to look after
+his property. He was a portly man, who walked with a slow, dignified
+step, leaning on a gold-headed cane, and evidently felt his
+importance. His son, Sam, was a chip of the old block. He
+condescended to associate with the village boys, because solitary
+grandeur is not altogether pleasant. He occasionally went to New
+York to visit a cousin of about his own age. From such a visit he
+had just returned, bringing back with him a new idea.
+
+"Father," he said, "Cousin Henry has a boy about his own age to wait
+on him, black his boots, and run errands."
+
+"Has he?" asked the major mechanically, not looking up from the
+daily paper which he was reading.
+
+"Yes, sir. He don't pay him much, you know, only five dollars a
+month and his board, and Henry finds it very convenient."
+
+Major Sturgis did not reply. In fact, he was too much interested in
+the article he was reading.
+
+"Ain't you as rich as uncle?" asked Sam, who was gradually leading
+up to his proposal.
+
+"Yes, Sam, I think so," answered his father, laying down the paper
+and removing his gold-bowed spectacles.
+
+"Then why won't you let me have a servant, too?"
+
+"What do you want of a servant? There are servants enough in the
+house."
+
+"I want a boy to follow me round, and do just what I bid him."
+
+"I don't see any necessity for it."
+
+"He could do errands for you, too, father," said Sam diplomatically.
+
+"We would have to send to the city for a boy, in case I let you have
+one."
+
+"No, we wouldn't," answered Sam.
+
+"Do you know of any one around here?"
+
+"Yes; there is Ben Stanton. He's got to find something to do."
+
+"I thought you didn't like Ben Stanton," said the major, in some
+surprise. "I have heard you say-"
+
+"Oh, he's rather uppish-feels too big for a poor boy; but I would
+soon train him. I'd make him know his place."
+
+"Your remarks are well founded, my son. Only yesterday I met the boy
+on the village street, and instead of taking off his hat and making
+a low bow, as he should do to a man of my position, he nodded
+carelessly, and said. 'How are you, major?' Really, I don't know
+what the country is coming to, when the rising generation is so
+deficient in veneration."
+
+"The fact is, father, Ben thinks himself as good as anybody. You'd
+think, by the way he speaks to me, that he considered himself my
+equal."
+
+"That is one of the evils incident to a republican form of
+government," said the major pompously. "For my part, I prefer the
+English social system, where the gentry are treated with proper
+deference."
+
+"Well, father, may I engage Ben as my servant?"
+
+"I am afraid you would not find him properly subordinate."
+
+"Just leave that to me," said Sam confidently. "If I can't teach him
+his place, then nobody can. I should enjoy having him to order
+about."
+
+Sam generally carried his point with his father, and the present
+instance was no exception.
+
+"I don't know that I have any particular objection," said the major.
+
+"How much wages may I offer, father?"
+
+"The same that your Cousin Henry's servant gets."
+
+"All right, sir," said Sam, with satisfaction. "I guess I'll go
+round, and see him about it this afternoon. I suppose he can come
+any time?"
+
+"Yes, my son."
+
+As Sam went out of the room his father thought, complacently:
+
+"My son has all the pride and instincts of a gentleman. He will do
+credit to the family."
+
+Few persons in the village would have agreed with the major. Sam
+Sturgis was decidedly unpopular. No boy who puts on airs is likely
+to be a favorite with any class of persons, and Sam put on rather
+more than he was entitled to. From time to time he received a
+rebuff, but still money will tell. He had his followers and
+sycophants, but we may be sure that Ben was not numbered among them.
+It was quite useless for Sam to patronize him-he would not be
+patronized, but persisted in treating the major's son with the most
+exasperating familiarity. Of course this would be impossible if he
+became Sam's servant, and this more than anything else was the
+motive of the young aristocrat in wishing to engage him. As to
+conferring a favor on Ben, that was the last thing in his thoughts.
+
+Sam bent his steps toward the humble home of Job Stanton, but he did
+not have to go the whole distance. He met Ben with a fishing-pole
+over his shoulder.
+
+"How are you, Sam?" was Ben's familiar greeting. "Want to go fishing
+with me?"
+
+"He's entirely too familiar," thought Sam. "I'll cure him of that
+when he is under my orders."
+
+At present Sam did not think it politic to express his feelings on
+the subject. Ben was so independent that it might frustrate his
+plan.
+
+"I will walk along with you, Ben," said Sam condescendingly.
+
+"All right. Haven't you got a fishing-pole at home?"
+
+"Yes, I have a very handsome one; it cost five dollars."
+
+"Then it's rather ahead of mine," said Ben.
+
+"I should say so," remarked Sam, surveying Ben's pole with contempt.
+
+"But I'll bet you can't catch as many fish with it," said Ben
+promptly. "I don't think it makes much difference to the fish," he
+added, with a laugh, "whther they are caught with a five-dollar pole
+or a five-cent one."
+
+"Very likely," said Sam briefly, "but I prefer to use a nice pole."
+
+"Oh, there's no objection," said Ben, "if you fancy it. It doesn't
+make any difference to me."
+
+"When are you going to work?" asked Sam abruptly.
+
+"I am working every day-that is, I am helping Uncle Job."
+
+"But I suppose you mean to get regular work somewhere, don't you?"
+
+"What's he after, I wonder?" thought Ben. "Maybe I do," he said
+aloud.
+
+"Perhaps I can throw something in your way," said Sam, in a
+patronizing way.
+
+"You are very kind," said Ben, who supposed Sam had heard of some
+business position which he could fill. Our hero decided that perhaps
+he had misjudged the major's son, and he was prepared to make
+amends. "If you get me a position, I shall be much obliged."
+
+"The fact is," said Sam, "I should find it convenient to have a boy
+go about with me, and be at my orders. My Cousin Henry has one, and
+father says I may engage you."
+
+Ben faced round, and looked steadily at Sam. He felt that he would
+far rather work for Deacon Pitkin, in spite of his meager table, or
+toil twelve hours a day in his uncle's shoe-shop, than accept such a
+place as was now offered him. He penetrated Sam's motive, and felt
+incensed with him, though he did not choose to show it.
+
+"What are you willing to pay?" asked Ben, in a businesslike tone.
+
+"Five dollars a month and your board," said Sam. "You'll live better
+than you ever did before in your life, and your duties will be
+easy."
+
+"What would you want me to do?" asked Ben.
+
+"Why, I would take you with me whenever I went out rowing or
+fishing. That would be easy enough. Then, in the morning you would
+black my shoes and keep my clothes well brushed, and go of any
+errands I had for you. Oh, well, I can't tell you all you would have
+to do, but you'd have an easy time."
+
+"Yes, I don't think it would tire me out," said Ben. "You'd want me
+to black your boots?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I might agree to that on one condition."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"That you would black mine."
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Sam, his face flushing angrily.
+
+"Just what I say."
+
+"Do you mean to insult me?"
+
+"Not a bit; any more than you mean to insult me,"
+
+"Do you dare to propose that I, a gentleman, should black your
+low-lived shoes?" exclaimed Sam furiously.
+
+"I think you're rather hard on my shoes," said Ben, laughing. "I'll
+come for four dollars a month, if you'll do that."
+
+"I never heard such impudence," said Sam, in concentrated wrath. "I
+never was so repaid for kindness before."
+
+"Look here, Sam," said Ben, "I understand just how kind you are. You
+want the satisfaction of ordering me round, and you can't have it. I
+decline your offer. I'd rather beg for bread than accept it."
+
+"You may starve, for all me," said Sam. "It's ridiculous for a poor
+boy to put on such airs. You'll die in the poorhouse yet."
+
+"I won't live there, if I can help it. What! are you going to leave
+me?"
+
+"I won't condescend to be seen with you."
+
+"Good-by, Sam. I hope you won't have to black your own boots."
+
+Sam did not deign a reply.
+
+"He looks mad," thought Ben. "I'd live on one meal a day rather than
+let him order me round."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A BRILLIANT CHANCE.
+
+
+
+
+
+The week was over, and Ben persisted in his determination to leave
+Hampton.
+
+"I'm sorry you are going, Ben," said his Cousin Jennie. "I shall
+miss you awfully."
+
+As Jennie was the prettiest girl in the village, though she did not
+inherit any good looks from her plain-looking father, Ben was
+gratified.
+
+"You'd forget me soon," he said.
+
+"No, I won't."
+
+"Especially when Sam Sturgis comes round to see you."
+
+"I don't want to see him. He's a stuck-up boy, and thinks himself
+too good to associate with common people."
+
+"He wanted to have me black his boots," said Ben.
+
+"He isn't fit to black yours," said Jennie energetically.
+
+"Oh, yes, he is," said Ben, laughing. "That's where you and I
+disagree."
+
+"I guess we both mean about the same thing," said Jennie, who saw
+the point.
+
+Ben's resolve to go to California was modified by an advertisement
+in a New York daily paper which he saw at the village tavern.
+
+It ran thus:
+
+"Wanted, six boys, from fifteen to eighteen years of age, to fill
+positions of trust. Ten dollars per week will be paid; but a deposit
+of fifty dollars is required as a guarantee of honesty. This sum
+will be repaid at the close of term of service. Address Fitch &
+Perguson, No.--Nassau Street."
+
+This advertisement looked quite attractive to Ben. He copied it, and
+showed it to Uncle Job.
+
+"Isn't that a good chance, Uncle Job?" he said. "Just think! Ten
+dollars a week!"
+
+"You'd have to pay your board out of it," said his uncle.
+
+"I know that, but my board wouldn't cost more than four dollars a
+week. That would leave me six."
+
+"So it would. I declare it does seem to be a good chance. Maybe
+they've got all the boys they want."
+
+"Why, you see, uncle, there's a good many boys that couldn't pay the
+deposit money. That would limit the number of applicants. Now, I
+have the money, and I guess I'd better write to New York at once
+about it."
+
+"Maybe you had, Ben."
+
+Ben immediately procured a sheet of paper and wrote to the
+advertisers, stating that he would like the position, and assuring
+them of his ability to furnish the required sum. The letter went to
+New York by the afternoon mail.
+
+Naturally Ben was a little excited and suffered a little from
+suspense. He feared that all the places would be filled, and such
+another chance was hardly to be expected again very soon. However,
+on Monday morning he was gratified by the receipt of the following
+letter:
+
+"No.--NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK.
+
+"MR. BENJAMIN STANTON: Your letter of yesterday is at hand.
+Fortunately we have one vacancy, the other places being already
+filled. We have rejected three applicants for it on account of
+unsatisfactory penmanship. Yours, however, is up to the mark, and we
+will engage you on the strength of it. It will be necessary for you
+to report as soon as possible at our office for duty. We require the
+deposit on account of the sums of money which you will handle. We do
+not doubt your honesty, but it seems desirable that you should
+furnish a guarantee, particularly as we pay a much larger salary
+than is usually given to young clerks.
+
+"Yours respectfully,
+
+"FITCH & FERGUSON.
+
+"P. S. Your engagement will not commence until the fifty dollars are
+in our hands."
+
+Ben was quite elated by his success.
+
+"I must start to-morrow morning," he said, "or I shall be in danger
+of losing the place."
+
+"It seems very sudden," said his aunt. "I am afraid I sha'n't have
+time to get your clothes ready. Some are dirty, and others need
+mending. If I'd had a little notice-"
+
+"It won't make any difference, Aunt Sarah," said Ben. "I'll take a
+few clothes in a carpetbag, and you can send the rest by express
+when they are ready."
+
+"Yes, Sarah, that will be the best way," said Uncle Job. "Ben don't
+want to run the risk of losing the place by delay."
+
+Mrs. Stanton acquiesced rather unwillingly, and for the remainder of
+the day Ben was busy making preparations to leave his country home.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN SEARCH OF A PLACE.
+
+
+
+
+
+Ben took the early train to New York on Tuesday morning, and in due
+time arrived in the city. He carried with him seventy-five dollars
+out of his small patrimony. Fifty were to be deposited with Messrs.
+Fitch & Ferguson, as required, and the balance was to defray his
+expenses till he began to receive a salary. Ben didn't expect to
+need much of it, for at the end of a week he would be paid ten
+dollars for his services, and until then he meant to be very
+economical.
+
+Ben had only been in New York twice before, but he happened to know
+his way to Nassau Street, and went there at once, with his carpetbag
+in his hand.
+
+As he entered Nassau Street from Printing-House
+
+Square, a bootblack accosted him.
+
+"How are you, country?"
+
+"Are you very anxious to know?" asked Ben, stopping short.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'm well enough and strong enough to give you a licking."
+
+"Good for you, country! Have you come to stay long?"
+
+Ben laughed. He concluded not to take offense, but to answer
+seriously.
+
+"That depends on whether I get the place I am after."
+
+"What is that?" asked the bootblack, in a friendly tone.
+
+Now, on the way to the city, Ben had overheard a conversation
+between two gentlemen, relative to certain swindlers in New York,
+which, for the first time, had aroused in him a suspicion that
+possibly there might be something wrong about the firm whose
+advertisement he had answered. He felt the need of an adviser, and
+though his choice may be considered rather a strange one, he decided
+to consult his new acquaintance, the bootblack. He briefly told him
+of the advertisement, and what it offered.
+
+The bootblack surveyed him with pitying curiosity.
+
+"You don't mean to say you swallow all that?" he said.
+
+"Don't you think it's all right?" asked Ben anxiously.
+
+"Look here," said the street boy, "do you think anybody's going to
+pay a boy ten dollars a week, when there's hundreds ready to work
+for three or four? Why, a man in Pearl Street advertised last week
+for a boy at three dollars, and there was a whole shoal of boys went
+for it. I was one of 'em."
+
+"Don't you earn more than that by your business?"
+
+"Sometimes I do, but it ain't stiddy, and I'd rather have a place."
+
+"Why do they advertise to give ten dollars, then?" asked our hero.
+
+"They want to get hold of your fifty dollars," said the bootblack.
+"Them fellers is beats, that's what they are."
+
+"What had I better do?" asked Ben, in perplexity.
+
+"Go and see 'em, and have a talk. If they're not after your fifty
+dollars, you'll know what it means."
+
+"It may be all right, after all," said Ben, who did not like to give
+up hope.
+
+"I may be General Grant," retorted the bootblack, "but if I know
+myself I ain't."
+
+"Well, I'll go round and talk with them. Where can I meet you
+afterwards?"
+
+"I'll be standin' here, if you ain't gone too long."
+
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Tom Cooper."
+
+"I am Ben Stanton. Thank you for your advice."
+
+"You're a good feller if you do come from the country. Just look out
+for them fellers. Don't let 'em hook you in."
+
+"All right, Tom."
+
+Ben moved on, watching the numbers as he walked slowly along, till
+he came to the one mentioned in the advertisement. There was a
+hallway and a staircase, with a directory of persons occupying
+offices on the floors above. From this Ben ascertained that Fitch &
+Ferguson occupied Room 17, on the fourth floor.
+
+"I wonder what business they are in," thought our hero as he mounted
+the stairs. "They must have considerable or they wouldn't need so
+many boys-that is, if they are on the square."
+
+Presently he stood in front of a door bearing the number 17.
+
+He knocked for admittance.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+MR. PITCH, THE SENIOR PARTNER.
+
+
+
+
+
+"Come in," said a loud voice.
+
+Ben opened the door and entered.
+
+He found himself in a square room, almost bare of furniture. In an
+office chair at a table sat a dark-complexioned man of near forty.
+He appeared to be reading the morning paper.
+
+"Is this the office of Fitch & Ferguson?" inquired Ben.
+
+A glance at Ben's carpetbag indicated that he had come in answer to
+the advertisement, and he was received very graciously.
+
+"Come in," said the man in the chair, smiling affably. "This is the
+office of Fitch & Ferguson. I am Mr. Fitch."
+
+"My name is Stanton-Ben Stanton," said our hero. "I wrote you from
+Hampton about your advertisement."
+
+"For a boy at ten dollars a week?" suggested the dark man, with a
+pleasant smile.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"We agreed to take you, did we not?" asked Mr. Fitch.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Have you had any business experience?" inquired Pitch.
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"I am sorry for that," said Mr. Fitch gravely. "Experience is
+important. I am not sure whether we ought to pay you ten dollars a
+week."
+
+Ben did not reply. He was not so much concerned about the amount of
+his compensation as about the reliable character of Fitch &
+Ferguson.
+
+"Still," mused Mr. Fitch, "you look like a boy who would learn fast.
+What do you think about it yourself?"
+
+"I think I could," answered Ben. "I should try to serve you
+faithfully."
+
+"That is well. We want to be served faithfully," said Mr. Fitch.
+
+"What kind of a business is it?" Ben ventured to ask, surveying the
+empty office with a puzzled look, which Mr. Fitch observed and
+interpreted aright.
+
+"We do a commission business," he said. "Of course, we keep no stock
+of goods here. Business is not done in the city, my young friend, as
+it is in the country."
+
+"No, I suppose not," returned our hero.
+
+"Without entering into details as to the character of our business,"
+said Mr. Fitch, "I may say that you would be chiefly employed in
+making collections. It is because considerable sums of money would
+pass through your hands that we require a deposit in order to
+protect ourselves. By the way, have you the fifty dollars with you?"
+
+Ben admitted that he had.
+
+Mr. Fitch's face brightened up, for he had not felt quite sure of
+that.
+
+"I am glad to hear of it," he said. "It shows that you mean
+business. You may hand it to me, and I will give you a receipt for
+it."
+
+"I would like to ask you one or two questions first," said Ben,
+making no movement toward his pocket.
+
+Mr. Fitch frowned.
+
+"Really, I fail to catch your meaning," he said, in a changed tone.
+"Do you wish to enter my employ, or do you not?"
+
+"I should like to earn ten dollars a week."
+
+"Precisely. Then all you have to do is to hand me the fifty dollars
+and go to work."
+
+"You might keep me only a week," suggested Ben.
+
+"We shall keep you if you suit us, and you can if you try. If you
+are discharged, we give you back your money, and pay you for the
+time you work for us. That is fair, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then we may as well settle the matter at once," and he waited for
+Ben to draw forth his money. Our hero would, undoubtedly, have done
+so, if he had not been cautioned by Tom Cooper. As it was, he could
+not help feeling suspicious.
+
+"I should like to propose something to you, sir," he said.
+
+"What is it?" asked Fitch impatiently.
+
+"Suppose you keep five dollars a week out of my wages for ten
+weeks-that'll make fifty dollars-and only pay it to me when I leave
+you."
+
+"Young man," said Mr. Fitch sternly, "this is trifling, and my time
+is too valuable for such discussion. Have you, or have you not,
+brought fifty dollars with you?"
+
+"I have."
+
+"Then you can secure the place-a place such as few New York boys are
+fortunate enough to fill. You must decide for yourself."
+
+He threw himself back in his chair and looked at Ben.
+
+"He seems very anxious about the money," thought our hero, "and I
+don't see any signs of any business. I'd better back out."
+
+"There are plenty of boys who want the place," continued Fitch,
+trying to look indifferent.
+
+"I guess you can give it to one of them," said Ben coolly.
+
+Mr. Fitch could not conceal his disappointment. The fifty dollars
+had a great attraction for him. He saw that Ben was in earnest, for
+he was already opening the door to go out. He must make an effort to
+detain him.
+
+"Wait a moment, my young friend. I like your appearance, and we may
+be disposed to take you on a little easier terms. Fifty dollars is
+probably a large sum to you."
+
+Ben admitted that it was.
+
+"Probably your means are limited?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I am a poor boy."
+
+"Just so. I will then relax our rules a little in your case. Of
+course, you won't mention it to our other boys, as it might create
+dissatisfaction."
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"We will take you on a deposit of forty dollars, then."
+
+Ben shook his head, and moved as if to depart.
+
+"In fact," said Mr. Fitch hastily, "I believe I will say thirty
+dollars, Though I am afraid my partner will blame me."
+
+Ben was not versed in city ways, but now he distrusted Mr. Fitch
+more than ever.
+
+"I would rather take a situation where no deposit is required," he
+said.
+
+"But you can't get any unless you agree to accept three or four
+dollars a week."
+
+"Can you afford to pay me ten dollars a week on account of my
+deposit?" asked Ben shrewdly.
+
+Mr. Fitch flushed, for Ben's question was a home thrust.
+
+"We don't want cheap boys," he said pompously. "We want boys who are
+worth high wages, and no others."
+
+"And you think I am worth high wages?" asked Ben.
+
+"I think so, but I may be mistaken."
+
+Ben was not required to answer, for the door opened hastily, and a
+man entered in visible excitement.
+
+"What is your business, sir?" asked Mr. Fitch, rather nervously.
+
+"Are you Fitch or Ferguson?" demanded the intruder.
+
+"I am Mr. Fitch."
+
+"Two days ago my son, James Cameron, entered your service."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Where is he now?"
+
+"We have sent him to Brooklyn to collect a bill."
+
+"He paid you a deposit of fifty dollars?"
+
+"Certainly. We require it as a guarantee of honesty and fidelity."
+
+"Well, I want you to pay it back."
+
+"I don't understand you, sir," said Mr. Fitch, looking very much
+disturbed. "It will be given up when your son leaves our
+employment."
+
+"Well, he's going to leave it to-day," said the other.
+
+"Can you get him another place as good? Ten dollars a week are not
+often paid to boys."
+
+"No, sir; it's that that makes me suspicious. Give me back the fifty
+dollars, and James shall leave your employment."
+
+"That is entirely irregular, sir," said Fitch. "Your son has been
+only two days in the office. At the end of the week he can leave us,
+and receive back his money."
+
+"That won't do," said the angry father.
+
+"It will have to do," said Fitch. "You are doing a very foolish
+thing, Mr. Cameron."
+
+"I'll risk that."
+
+"When your son returns from Brooklyn we will consider what can be
+done."
+
+"When will that be?"
+
+"In a couple of hours."
+
+"I will come in then."
+
+Cameron went out, and Ben followed him, the discomfited Fitch making
+no effort to detain the lad.
+
+"I was thinking of engaging myself to Mr. Fitch," said Ben to his
+companion. "Do you know anything against him?"
+
+"I hear that he's a swindler," said Cameron. "I was a fool to fall
+into his snare. Keep your money and you'll be better off."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+Fifteen minutes afterward Mr. Fitch left his office, and when Mr.
+Cameron came back, the door was locked. He found his son waiting in
+the entry.
+
+"Did you collect any money in Brooklyn?" asked his father.
+
+"No; I guess Mr. Fitch gave me the wrong number. There was no such
+man living at the house he sent me to."
+
+"We've been fooled!" said the father bitterly. "Come home, James. I
+doubt we've seen the last of our money. If I ever set eyes on that
+man Pitch again I'll give him in charge for swindling."
+
+The senior partner of Pitch & Ferguson was at that moment on his way
+to Philadelphia with the remains of the fifty dollars in his pocket.
+But for Ben's caution he would have had another fifty dollars in his
+possession.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+BEN'S DINNER-GUEST.
+
+
+
+
+
+Ben slowly retraced his steps to where he had left his friend, Tom
+Cooper.
+
+"Well," said the bootblack, "did you see Fitch and Ferguson?"
+
+"Yes," answered Ben soberly; "that is, I saw one of them."
+
+"Did you take the place?"
+
+"No; I found he was too anxious for my fifty dollars, though he
+offered after a while to take me for thirty."
+
+Tom Cooper laughed derisively.
+
+"I'll do better nor that," he said. "If you'll give me twenty
+dollars, I'll make you my private secretary, payin' you ten dollars
+a week."
+
+"How long will you keep me?" asked Ben, smiling.
+
+"Six days," answered Tom. "Then I'll have to sack you without pay,
+'cause you don't understand your business."
+
+"Is that the way they manage?" asked Ben.
+
+The bootblack nodded.
+
+Ben looked grave. The disappointment was a serious one, and he felt
+now how much he had relied upon the promises of Fitch & Ferguson. He
+had formed no other plans, and it seemed likely that he must return
+to the country to resume his old life. Yet that seemed
+impracticable. There was no opening there unless he accepted one of
+the two offers already made him. But he was neither inclined to
+enter the employ of Deacon Pitkin, nor to become the valet and
+servant of Sam Sturgis. He was not quite sure whether he would not
+prefer to become a bootblack, like his new acquaintance.
+
+"What are you goin' to do?" asked Tom.
+
+"I wish I knew," said Ben earnestly. "What can I do?"
+
+"You might go into my business," suggested Tom.
+
+Ben shook his head.
+
+"I don't think I should like that."
+
+"No more would I if I'd got fifty dollars in my pocket. If I was you
+I'd go into business."
+
+"What kind of business?"
+
+"Well," said Tom reflectively, "you might buy out an apple or a
+peanut-stand, and have lots of money left."
+
+"Is there much money to be made that way?" inquired Ben.
+
+"Well, I never knowed anybody get rich in that line. I guess you'd
+make a livin'."
+
+"That wouldn't satisfy me, Tom. What I want most of all is to go to
+California."
+
+The bootblack whistled.
+
+"That's off ever so far, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, it's a long way."
+
+"How do you go?"
+
+"There are three ways," answered Ben, who had made himself familiar
+with the subject. "The first is to go by land-across the plains.
+Then there is a line of steamers by way of Panama. The longest way
+is by a sailing-vessel round Cape Horn."
+
+"What would you do when you got to California?" asked Tom.
+
+"Go to work. I suppose I would go to the mines and dig gold."
+
+"I wish it wasn't so far off. I'd like to go myself. Do you think a
+feller could work his passage?"
+
+"By blacking boots?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I don't believe he could. Sailors don't care much about having
+their boots blacked."
+
+"How much does it cost to go?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Why don't you go to the office and find out?"
+
+"So I will," said Ben, brightening up at the thought. "Do you know
+where it is?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Will you show me?"
+
+"I would if I'd make enough to buy me some dinner. I only had a
+five-cent breakfast, and I feel kinder holler."
+
+"I feel hungry myself," said Ben. "If you'll go with me I'll buy you
+some dinner to pay you for your trouble."
+
+"'Nough said!" remarked Tom briefly, as he shouldered his box. "I'm
+your man. Come along! Where shall we go first?"
+
+"To an eating-house. We might have to wait at the office."
+
+Tom conducted Ben to a cheap restaurant, not far away, where the two
+for a moderate sum obtained a plentiful meal. Had either been
+fastidious, some exception might have been taken to the style in
+which the dishes were served, but neither was critical. A dapper
+young clerk, however, who sat opposite Tom, seemed quite disturbed
+by the presence of the bootblack. As his eye rested on Tom he
+sniffed contemptuously, and frowned. In truth, our friend Tom might
+be useful, but in his present apparel he was not fitted to grace a
+drawing-room. He had no coat, his vest was ragged, and his shirt
+soiled with spots of blacking. There were spots also upon his
+freckled face, of which Tom was blissfully unconscious. It didn't
+trouble him any to have a dirty face. "Dirt is only matter in the
+wrong place," as a philosopher once remarked. Tom was a philosopher
+in his own way.
+
+The young clerk pulled out a scented handkerchief, and applied it to
+his nose, looking at Tom meanwhile.
+
+"What's the matter of yer?" inquired Tom, suspecting the cause of
+the dandy's discomfort. "Be you sick?"
+
+"It's enough to make one sick to sit at the table with you,"
+answered the clerk.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You are absolutely filthy. Don't you know any better than to come
+in where there are gentlemen?"
+
+"I don't see any except him," said Tom, indicating Ben with his
+glance.
+
+"This is really too much. Here, waiter!"
+
+A waiter answered the summons.
+
+"What is it, sir?"
+
+"Just remove my plate to another table, will you?"
+
+"Is anything the matter, sir?"
+
+"I am not accustomed to associate with bootblacks," said the clerk
+loftily.
+
+"All right, sir."
+
+"I am really surprised that you admit any of that low class."
+
+"As long as they pay their bills we are willing to receive them."
+
+"I don't believe that boy has got enough to pay for his dinner."
+
+The waiter, at this suggestion, looked at Tom rather suspiciously.
+After removing the plate of the sensitive customer, he came back to
+the table where the two boys were seated.
+
+"Have you given your order?" he asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"If you haven't got money enough to pay your check you'll be
+bounced."
+
+"Don't you trouble yourself, old woolly head," said Tom coolly. "My
+friend pays the bills. He's a banker down in Wall Street, and he's
+rich enough to buy out your whole place."
+
+"The dinner will be paid for," said Ben, smiling.
+
+"All right, gentlemen," said the waiter, more respectfully. "We'll
+be glad to see you any time."
+
+"Tom," said Ben, "I'm afraid you don't always tell the truth."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"You told the waiter I was a Wall Street banker, and rich."
+
+"Oh, what's the odds? You're rich enough to pay for the dinners, and
+that's all he wants."
+
+"You came near spoiling the appitite of that young man over at the
+opposite table."
+
+"I'd like to spoil his beauty. He feels too big. I don't like to see
+a feller put on so many airs. What's the matter of me, I'd like to
+know?"
+
+"Why, you see, Tom, your face isn't very clean. There are spots of
+blacking on it."
+
+"A feller can't be always washin' his face. I'll wash it to-morrow
+mornin' at the lodge. Does it take away your appetite, too?"
+
+"Not a bit," said Ben, laughing. "Nothing but a good dinner will
+take away that."
+
+"You're the kind of feller I like," said Tom emphatically. "You
+don't put on no airs."
+
+"I can't afford to," said Ben. "I'm a poor boy myself."
+
+"I wouldn't feel poor if I had fifty dollars," returned Tom.
+
+"I hope you'll have it sometime, and a good deal more."
+
+"So do I. When I'm a rich man, I'll wash my face oftener."
+
+"And put blacking on your boots instead of your face," added Ben.
+
+"It might look better," Tom admitted.
+
+When dinner was over the two boys directed their steps to the
+California steamship office, on one of the North River piers.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+A STRANGE ACQUAINTANCE.
+
+
+
+
+
+Tom Cooper was too familiar with the streets of New York to pay any
+attention to the moving panorama of which he and Ben formed a part.
+But everything was new and interesting to Ben, who had passed his
+life in a quiet country town.
+
+"I should think it was the Fourth of July," he said.
+
+"Why?" asked the bootblack.
+
+"Because there's such a lot of people and wagons in the streets."
+
+"There's always as many as this, except Sundays," said Tom.
+
+"Where do they all come from?" said Beu wonderingly.
+
+"You've got me there," answered Tom. "I never thought about that.
+Look out!" he exclaimed suddenly, dragging Ben from in front of a
+team coming up the street. "Do you want to get run over?"
+
+"I was looking the other way," said Ben, rather confused.
+
+"You've got to look all ways to once here," said Tom.
+
+"I guess you're right. Don't people often get run over?"
+
+"Once in a while. There's a friend of mine--Patsy Burke--a newsboy,
+was run over last year and had his leg broke. They took him to
+Bellevue Hospital, and cut it off."
+
+"Is he alive now?"
+
+"Oh, yes, he's alive and to work, the same as ever. He's got a
+wooden leg."
+
+"Poor boy!" said Ben compassionately.
+
+"Oh, he don't mind it, Patsy don't. He's always jolly."
+
+By this time they reached the office of the California Steamship
+Company. There was a large sign up, so that there was no difficulty
+in finding it.
+
+The two boys entered. The room was not a large one. There was a
+counter, behind which were two young men writing, and there was
+besides a man of middle age, who was talking to two gentlemen who
+appeared to be engaging passage. Seated in a chair, apparently
+awaiting her turn, was a young lady, whose face was half-concealed
+by a thick, green veil.
+
+When the two gentlemen were disposed of, the agent spoke to the
+young lady.
+
+"What can I do for you, miss?" he asked.
+
+"I am in no hurry, sir," she answered, in a low voice. "I will wait
+for those boys."
+
+"What's your business, boys?" demanded the agent, shrugging his
+shoulders.
+
+"When does the next steamer start, sir?" inquired Ben.
+
+"In three days."
+
+"What is the price of passage?"
+
+"First-class?"
+
+"No, sir, the cheapest."
+
+"One hundred dollars. Do you wish to secure passage?"
+
+"Not this morning, sir."
+
+The agent shrugged his shoulders again, as if to say "I thought so,"
+and turned again to the young lady.
+
+"Now, miss," he said.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," she said hurriedly. "I will call again."
+
+As she spoke, she left the office, following the two boys so quickly
+that they almost went out together.
+
+Ben had not taken particular notice of the young lady, and was much
+surprised when he felt a hand laid on his arm, and, turning, his
+eyes fell npon her face.
+
+"May I speak a few words with you?" she said.
+
+"Certainly," answered Ben politely, though he could not conceal his
+astonishment.
+
+The young lady looked uneasily at Tom, and hesitated.
+
+"Won't you move away a few steps, Tom?" said Ben, understanding the
+look.
+
+"Thank you," said the young lady, in a low voice. "Are you intending
+to sail for California by the next steamer?"
+
+"I should like to, miss, but I am poor, and I don't know whether I
+can afford the expense of a ticket."
+
+"Would you go if your ticket were paid-by a friend?"
+
+"You bet I would-I mean I certainly would," answered Ben, correcting
+his phraseology, as he remembered that he was addressing a young
+lady, and not one of his boy friends.
+
+"Would you be willing to take care of me--that is, to look after
+me?"
+
+Ben was certainly surprised; but he answered promptly and with
+native politeness: "It would be a pleasure to me."
+
+"You were going alone-you had no friends with you?"
+
+"None at all, miss."
+
+"That is well," she said. "What is your name?"
+
+"Ben Stanton."
+
+"Do you live in the city?"
+
+"No, miss. I came from the small town of Hampton."
+
+"Where are you staying?"
+
+"Nowhere. I only arrived in the city this morning."
+
+"Will you be able to go by the next steamer?"
+
+Ben hesitated. It almost took away his breath--it seemed so
+sudden-but he reflected that there really was no reason why he
+should not, and he answered in the affirmative.
+
+"Then go back with me, and I will engage passage for us both."
+
+The young lady and Ben reentered the office, Tom Cooper looking on
+with astonishment. She approached the counter, this time with
+confidence, and the agent came forward.
+
+"I have concluded to engage passage for myself and this lad," she
+said.
+
+The agent regarded her with surprise.
+
+"Both first-class?" he asked.
+
+"Certainly, sir. I should like the lad to occupy a stateroom near
+mine."
+
+"Very well. I will show you on the plan those that are unengaged. I
+cannot give either of you a stateroom to yourselves. I can give you
+a room with a very agreeable lady, a Mrs. Dunbar, and the boy can
+occupy part of the adjoining room."
+
+"Very well, sir."
+
+"What name?" continued the agent.
+
+"Ida Sinclair," answered the young lady, with visible hesitation.
+
+"And the boy's name?"
+
+Miss Sinclair had forgotten; but Ben promptly answered for himself.
+
+The young lady drew out her pocketbook, and produced several large
+bills, out of which she paid the passage money. Then, turning to
+Ben, she said: "Now we will go."
+
+Ben followed her out of the office, feeling completely bewildered.
+Well he might. The young lady had paid two hundred and fifty dollars
+for his passage, and for this large outlay only required him to take
+care of her. No wonder he thought it strange.
+
+"You say you are not staying at any hotel?" said the young lady, as
+they emerged into the street.
+
+"No, Miss Sinclair."
+
+"I am staying at the Astor House, and it is important that you
+should be with me, as I may have some errands on which to employ
+you."
+
+"Is it an expensive hotel?" asked Ben.
+
+"That will not matter to you, as I shall pay the bill."
+
+"Thank you, Miss Sinclair; but you are spending a great deal of
+money for me."
+
+"I have an object in doing so. Besides, I have no lack of money."
+
+"Shall I go with you to the hotel now?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"May I speak a moment to the boy who was with me?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"May I tell him where I am going?"
+
+"Yes, but ask him to keep it to himself."
+
+"I will, Miss Sinclair," and Ben was about to walk away.
+
+"On the whole, call the boy here," said Miss Sinclair. "Tom!" Tom
+Cooper answered the summons.
+
+"I am going to California with this lady," said Ben. "She has paid
+my passage."
+
+"You're in luck!" exclaimed Tom. "Say, miss, you don't want a boy to
+go along to black your boots, do you?"
+
+Miss Sinclair smiled faintly.
+
+"I think not," she answered.
+
+"Tom," continued Ben, "you won't say a word about my going, will
+you?"
+
+"Not if you don't want me to. Besides, there ain't nobody to tell."
+
+Miss Sinclair looked relieved. She drew out her pocketbook, and took
+from it a ten-dollar bill.
+
+"What is your name?" she asked.
+
+"Tom Cooper, ma'am."
+
+"Then, Tom, allow me to offer you a small present."
+
+"Is it all for me?" exclaimed Tom, in amazement.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Tom thrust it into his vest pocket, and immediately executed a
+somersault, rather to Miss Sinclair's alarm.
+
+"Excuse me, ma'am," said Tom, assuming his natural posture; "I
+couldn't help it, I felt so excited. I never was so rich before."
+
+"May I tell Tom where we are going to stop?" asked Ben.
+
+"Certainly, if he will keep it to himself."
+
+"I shall be at the Astor House, Tom. Come round and see me."
+
+Tom watched the two as they preceded him on their way to Broadway.
+
+"I wonder if I'm dreaming," he said to himself. "If I am, I hope I
+won't wake up till I've spent this ten dollars. I guess I'll go to
+the Old Bowery to-night."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+AT THE ASTOR HOUSE.
+
+
+
+
+
+As they walked up to the hotel together, Miss Sinclair said: "You
+are probably surprised at what has taken place, but I have strong
+reasons for acting as I have done."
+
+"I don't doubt it, Miss Sinclair," returned Ben.
+
+"It is desirable that I should tell you-"
+
+"Don't tell me anything unless you like, Miss Sinclair. I am not
+troubled with curiosity."
+
+"Thank you, but in the confidential relations which we are to hold
+toward each other, it is necessary that you should understand my
+position. I will reserve my explanation, however, till we reach the
+hotel."
+
+"We are to stop at the Astor House?"
+
+"Yes, and I wish you to put down my name and your own on the
+register, and obtain two rooms as near together as convenient."
+
+"Very well, Miss Sinclair."
+
+"You may put me down as from-well, from Philadelphia."
+
+"All right. Shall I put myself down from Philadelphia, too?"
+
+"Not unless you choose. Your native village will answer. By the way,
+you are to pass for my cousin, and it will be better, therefore,
+that you should call me by my first name-Ida."
+
+"I wouldn't take the liberty but for your wishing it."
+
+"I do wish it-otherwise it would be difficult to pass you off as my
+cousin."
+
+"All right, Miss Sinclair-I mean Ida."
+
+"That is better. I shall call you Ben."
+
+"You couldn't very well call me Mr. Stanton," said our hero,
+smiling.
+
+"Not very well. But here we are at the hotel. We will go in
+together. I will go to the ladies' parlor, and you can join me there
+after securing rooms at the office."
+
+"Very well-Ida."
+
+Of course Ben was not used to city hotels, and he was a little
+afraid that he should not go to work properly, but he experienced no
+difficulty. He stepped up to the desk, and said to the clerk:
+
+"I should like to engage rooms for my cousin and myself."
+
+The clerk pushed the register toward him.
+
+Ben inscribed the names. At first he could not remember his
+companion's last name, and it made him feel awkward. Fortunately it
+came to him in time.
+
+"We can give you rooms on the third floor. Will that do?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I think so. We would like to be near together."
+
+"Very well. I can give you two rooms directly opposite to each
+other."
+
+"That will do, sir."
+
+The clerk touched a bell, and a porter presented himself:
+
+"Here are the keys of sixty-six and sixty-eight," said the hotel
+clerk. "Take this young gentleman's luggage to sixty-six, and show
+the lady with him to number sixty-eight."
+
+Ben followed the porter, pausing at the door of the ladies' parlor,
+where his companion awaited him.
+
+"Come, Ida," he said, feeling a little awkward at addressing Miss
+Sinclair so familiarly. "The servant is ready to show us our rooms."
+
+"Very well, Ben," said Miss Sinclair, smiling. She did not seem so
+nervous now.
+
+As the clerk had said, the rooms were directly opposite each other.
+They were large and very comfortable in appearance. As Miss Sinclair
+entered her room she said:
+
+"Join me in the ladies' parlor in fifteen minutes, Ben. I have
+something to say to you."
+
+Ben looked around him with considerable satisfaction. He had only
+left home that morning; he had met with a severe disappointment, and
+yet he was now fortunate beyond his most sanguine hopes. He had
+heard a great deal of the Astor House, which in Hampton and
+throughout the country was regarded at that time as the most
+aristocratic hotel in New York, and now he was actually a guest in
+it. Moreover, he was booked for a first-class passage to California.
+
+"It's like the Arabian Nights," thought Ben, "and Miss Sinclair must
+be a fairy."
+
+He took out his scanty wardrobe from the carpetbag, and put it away
+in one of the drawers of the bureau.
+
+"I might just as well enjoy all the privileges of the hotel," he
+said to himself.
+
+He took out his brush and comb, and brushed his hair. Then he locked
+the door of No. 66 and went down-stairs to the ladies' parlor.
+
+He did not have to wait long. In five minutes Miss Sinclair made her
+appearance.
+
+"Ben," she said, "here is the check for my trunk. You may take it
+down to the office and ask them to send for it. Then come back and I
+will acquaint you with some things I wish you to know."
+
+Ben speedily reappeared, and at Miss Sinclair's request sat down
+beside her on a sofa.
+
+"You must know, Ben," she commenced, "that I am flying from my
+guardian."
+
+"I hope it's all right," said Ben, rather frightened. He was not
+sure but he was making himself liable to arrest for aiding and
+abetting Miss Sinclair's flight.
+
+"You have no cause for alarm. He has no legal control over me,
+though by the terms of my father's will he retains charge of my
+property till I attain my twenty-fifth year. Before this, fourteen
+months must elapse. Meanwhile he is exerting all his influence to
+induce me to marry his son, so that the large property of which I am
+possessed may accrue to the benefit of his family."
+
+"He couldn't force you to marry his son, could he?" asked Ben.
+
+"No, but he has made it very disagreeable to me to oppose him, and
+has even gone so far as to threaten me with imprisonment in a
+madhouse if I do not yield to his persuasions."
+
+"He must be a rascal!" said our hero indignantly.
+
+"He is," said Miss Sinclair quietly.
+
+"I don't see how he can do such things in a free country."
+
+"He has only to buy over two unscrupulous physicians, and in a large
+city that can easily be done. On their certificate of my insanity I
+might any day be dragged to a private asylum and confined there."
+
+"I don't wonder you ran away, Ida."
+
+"I feel perfectly justified in doing so. Liberty and the control of
+my own person are dear to me, and I mean to struggle for them."
+
+"What makes you think of going to California? is it because it is so
+far off?"
+
+"Partly; but there is another reason," said Miss Sinclair. "I will
+not conceal from you that there is a person there whom I wish to
+meet."
+
+"Is it a young man?" asked Ben shrewdly.
+
+"You have guessed it. Richard Dewey is the son of a former
+bookkeeper of my father. He is poor, but he is a gentleman, and
+there is a mutual attachment between us. Indeed, he asked my
+guardian's consent to his suit, but he was repelled with insult, and
+charged with being a fortune-hunter. That name would better apply to
+my guardian and his precious son."
+
+"Is Mr. Dewey in California?"
+
+"Yes; he went out there some months since. He promised to write me
+regularly, but I have not heard a word from him. I know very well
+that he has written, and that my guardian has suppressed his
+letters."
+
+"That is shameful!" said Ben warmly.
+
+"It is indeed; but with your help I think I can circumvent Mr.
+Campbell yet."
+
+"Mr. Campbell is your guardian, I suppose, Ida?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You may reply upon me to help you in every way possible, Miss
+Sinclair."
+
+"Ida," corrected the young lady.
+
+"I mean Ida."
+
+"That's right, Cousin Ben."
+
+Now that Miss Sinclair's veil was removed, our hero could see that
+she was very pretty, and perhaps he felt all the more proud of being
+selected as her escort. But on one point he was in the dark.
+
+"May I ask you a question, Ida?" he said. "How is it that you have
+chosen me-a stranger, and so young-as your escort? I am only a green
+country boy."
+
+"Partly because I like your looks; you look honest and trustworthy."
+
+"Thank you, but I am only a boy."
+
+"That's all the better for me. It would not do for me to accept the
+escort of a man, and it would be awkward for me to propose it even
+if it would do."
+
+"At any rate, I am lucky to be selected. I hope you will be
+satisfied with me."
+
+"I feel sure of it."
+
+"You are spending a great deal of money for me."
+
+"You may feel surprised that I have so much money to spend
+independent of my guardian, but he has control only of the property
+left by my father. My mother left me thirty thousand dollars, of
+which I am sole mistress."
+
+"That is lucky for you."
+
+"Under present circumstances-yes."
+
+Here two ladies entered the parlor, and the conversation was
+suspended.
+
+"I believe I will go in to dinner now," said Miss Sinclair. "Will
+you come, Ben?"
+
+"I ate dinner an hour ago." "Then you can go where you please. Meet
+me here at six o'clock." "All right, Ida."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+BEN RECEIVES A CALL.
+
+
+
+
+
+Ben had scarcely left the room when it occurred to him that he ought
+to send home for the remainder of his clothes. He did not like to do
+so, however, without first consulting Miss Sinclair.
+
+"Well, Ben?" said the young lady inquiringly.
+
+"I would like to write home for my clothes, if you have no
+objection."
+
+"Certainly; but don't say anything about me."
+
+"All right."
+
+Ben went to the reading-room, and, procuring writing-materials,
+penned the following letter to his uncle:
+
+"ASTOR HOUSE, NEW YORK.
+
+"DEAR UNCLE JOB: Will you send me the rest of my clothes at once, by
+express? You may direct to this hotel, where I am now staying. The
+firm that I came to see turned out to be swindlers, and I was at
+first quite disappointed; but I have made other friends, and am to
+sail for California next Saturday. This may seem sudden to you. At
+any rate it does to me, and I don't expect to realize it till I am
+fairly at sea. It will be some time before I can write you, but I
+will send you a line from Panama, if possible. You needn't send me
+any more of my money, for I have with me all I shall need at
+present.
+
+"Give my love to aunt and Cousin Jenny. I should like to see you all
+again before I start, but I cannot spare the time. I am in good
+health and spirits, and I think my prospects are good. Your
+affectionate nephew, BEN."
+
+This letter excited considerable surprise in Hampton.
+
+"I'm afraid Ben's gettin' extravagant," said Uncle Job. "I've always
+heerd that the Astor House is a fashionable hotel where they charge
+big prices. Ben ought to have gone to a cheap place, and saved his
+money."
+
+"He says he's got money enough with him, father," said Mrs. Stanton.
+"How much did he take away with him?"
+
+"Seventy-five dollars."
+
+"And he had to pay his passage to California out of that?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"He won't have much left when he gets to California, then." "No, he
+won't."
+
+"Don't you think you'd better send him some?" "No, wife. Ben says
+no, and I'm goin' accordin' to his directions. I suppose he knows
+best what he wants."
+
+Sam Sturgis did not often condescend to notice Job Stanton, but his
+curiosity got the better of his pride, and, meeting the old man a
+short time afterward, he asked: "Have you heard anythiug from Ben?"
+
+"Yes, he writ me a letter from New York. I got it this mornin'?"
+
+"Has he got a chance to black boots?" asked Sam, with a sneer.
+
+"He's stayin' at the Astor House," said Job, enjoying Sam's
+surprise.
+
+"Staying at the Astor House!" exclaimed the young aristocrat in
+astonishment. "Why, that is a tip-top hotel."
+
+"I always heerd it was," returned Job. "How can he afford to stay
+there?" "He didn't say."
+
+"Oh, I understand," said Sam, with an air of relief. "He's got a
+place to black boots, or clean knives. That must be the way of it."
+
+"I don't think it is, for he has engaged passage to Californy."
+
+"Is that so? When does he sail?"
+
+"On Saturday. We're goin' to send him his clothes. Do you want to
+send him any word or message?"
+
+"No; why should I?"
+
+"I thought you was one of his friends."
+
+"Yes, I will send him a message," said Sam. "Just tell him that when
+he has spent all his money, I'll give him the place I offered him
+before he left Hampton."
+
+"You're very kind," said Job, concealing his amusement; "but I don't
+think Ben will need to take up with your offer."
+
+"I think he will," said Sam.
+
+"I wonder whether Ben is really staying at the Astor House, and
+paying his expenses there," he said to himself. "If he is, he's a
+fool. I've a great mind to ask father if I may go up to New York,
+and see. Maybe he's only humbugging his uncle."
+
+So when Sam got home he preferred a request to visit New York, and
+obtained permission.
+
+We now return to the Astor House.
+
+Miss Sinclair and Ben went in to supper together. The young lady had
+scarcely taken her place, and looked around her, when she started,
+and turned pale.
+
+"Ben," she said hurriedly, "I must leave the table. Do you see that
+tall man sitting by the window?"
+
+"Yes, Cousin Ida."
+
+"It is my guardian. He has not seen me yet, but I must be cautious.
+Direct a servant to bring me some supper in my room, and come up
+there yourself when you are through."
+
+"All right!"
+
+Miss Sinclair left the room, but Ben maintained his place. He took
+particular notice of the gentleman who had been pointed out to him.
+He was a tall, slender man, with iron-gray hair, and a stern,
+unpleasant look. Ben judged that her guardian had not seen Miss
+Sinclair, for he seemed wholly intent upon his supper.
+
+"I don't wonder she wanted to run away from him," thought our hero.
+Ben smiled as it flashed upon him that this young lady was running
+away with him.
+
+"I didn't expect, when I left home, to meet with any such adventure
+as this," he said to himself. "But I do mean to help Miss Sinclair
+all I possibly can. It doesn't seem quite natural to call her Ida,
+but I will do as she wants me to."
+
+Meanwhile Mr. Campbell had made inquiries at the office if a young
+lady from Albany was staying at the hotel.
+
+"No," said the clerk.
+
+It will be remembered that Miss Sinclair had registered from
+Philadelphia, or, rather, Ben had done so for her.
+
+"Have you any young lady here without escort?" asked Mr. Campbell.
+
+"No, sir. There is a young lady from Philadelphia, but she arrived
+with her cousin, a lad of fifteen or sixteen."
+
+"That cannot be the one I am in search of," said the unsuspecting
+guardian.
+
+Of course, as the reader will readily surmise, Ida Sinclair was not
+the young lady's real name, but it is the name by which we shall
+know her for the present.
+
+After supper Ben went to Miss Sinclair's room, as directed.
+
+"I think, Ben," she said, "it will be best for me to take all my
+meals in my room during the short time I stay here. Should my
+guardian catch sight of me he might give me some trouble, and that I
+wish to avoid."
+
+"I guess you're right," said Ben.
+
+"I shall wish you to come to my room two or three times a day, as I
+may have some errands for you to do."
+
+"All right, Miss Sinclair."
+
+"You had better call me 'Cousin Ida,' so as to get used to it."
+
+The next day as Ben was standing on the steps of the hotel he saw,
+with surprise, Sam Sturgis approaching. It did not occur to him,
+however, that he was responsible for Sam's presence in the city. He
+was glad to see a familiar Hampton face, and he said cordially: "How
+are you, Sam?"
+
+Sam nodded.
+
+"You don't mean to say that you are stopping here, do you?"
+
+"Yes, I do," said Ben, smiling. "Why not?"
+
+"Because it's a first-class hotel."
+
+"Why shouldn't I stay at a first-class hotel, Sam?"
+
+"Because you are a poor boy. Maybe you've got some relations among
+the servants?"
+
+"If I have I don't know it."
+
+"Your uncle told me you were stopping here, but I didn't believe
+it."
+
+"Do you believe it now?" asked Ben.
+
+"Perhaps you just stay round here to make people believe you are a
+guest of the house."
+
+"Why should I care what people think? Nobody knows me here. However,
+Sam, if you want to be convinced, just come up to my room with me."
+
+Sam concluded to accept the invitation, and accompanied Ben to the
+desk.
+
+"Please give me the key to number sixty-six," said Ben.
+
+"Here it is, sir."
+
+Sam began to think Ben's statement was true, after all. There was no
+room for doubt when Ben ushered him into the handsome chamber which
+he occupied.
+
+"Make yourself at home, Sam," said Ben, enjoying his companion's
+surprise.
+
+"It's very queer," thought Sam. "I wonder whether he won't run off
+without paying his bill."
+
+Sam rather hoped that this might be the case, as it would involve
+Ben in disgrace.
+
+"Your uncle tells me you are going to sail for California on
+Saturday."
+
+"Yes, Sam."
+
+"Have you bought your ticket?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How much did you pay?"
+
+"Excuse me. I would rather not tell just now."
+
+"I suppose he goes in the steerage," thought Sam.
+
+As he could learn nothing more from our hero, Sam soon left him.
+
+It was certainly remarkable that the boy to whom he had recently
+offered the position of his bootblack should be a guest of a
+fashionable New York hotel.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+MISS SINCLAIR'S STRATAGEM.
+
+
+
+
+
+Mr. Campbell had no particular reason to think that Miss Ida
+Sinclair, registering from Philadelphia, was the ward of whom he was
+in pursuit. Still, he thought it worth while to find out what he
+could about her, and managed to waylay Ben in the corridor of the
+hotel the next morning.
+
+"Good morning, boy!" he said stiffly, not having the art of
+ingratiating himself with young people.
+
+"Good morning, man!" Ben thought of replying, but he thought this
+would be hardly polite, and said: "Good morning, sir," instead.
+
+He suspected Mr. Campbell's purpose, and resolved to answer
+cautiously.
+
+"This is a nice hotel," said the guardian, resolving to come to the
+point by degrees.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"I suppose you are too young to have traveled much?"
+
+"I never traveled much, sir."
+
+"Didn't I see you in the company of a young lady?"
+
+"Very likely, sir."
+
+"Your sister, I suppose?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"A relation, I suppose?"
+
+"I call her Cousin Ida," said Ben truthfully.
+
+"Indeed! And she is from Philadelphia?"
+
+Ben was placed in a dilemma. He saw that he should be forced to
+misrepresent, and this he did not like. On the other hand, he could
+not tell the truth, and so betray Miss Sinclair to her persecutor.
+
+"You can tell by looking at the hotel register," he said coldly.
+
+Mr. Campbell judged by Ben's tone that our hero meant to rebuke his
+curiosity, and, having really very little idea that he was on the
+right track, he thought it best to apologize.
+
+"Excuse my questions," he said, "but I have an idea that I know your
+cousin."
+
+"In that case," said Ben, "if you will tell me your name I will
+speak to Cousin Ida about it."
+
+Now Mr. Campbell was in a dilemma. If Ida Sinclair were really the
+ward of whom he was in pursuit, his name would only put her on her
+guard. He quickly thought of a ruse.
+
+"I will send a card," he said.
+
+He stepped to the clerk's desk, and asked for a blank card. After an
+instant's hesitation, he penciled the name James Vernon, and handed
+it to Ben.
+
+"The young lady may not remember my name," he said; "but in an
+interview I think I can recall it to her recollection. Please give
+it to your cousin."
+
+"All right, sir."
+
+Ben went up-stairs and tapped for admission at Miss Sinclair's door.
+
+"Well, Ben?" she said inquiringly.
+
+"Here is a card which a gentleman down-stairs asked me to hand you."
+
+"James Vernon!" repeated the young lady, in surprise. "Why, I don't
+know any gentleman of that name."
+
+"He said you might not remember it; but he thought he could recall
+it to your recollection in a personal interview."
+
+"I don't want a personal interview with any gentleman."
+
+"Not with your guardian?" asked Ben, smiling.
+
+"Was the man who handed you this card my guardian?"
+
+"Yes; he tried to find out all he could from me; but wasn't very
+successful. Then he said he thought he knew you, and handed me this
+card."
+
+"So he thinks to delude me by masquerading under a false name! He
+must suspect that I am his ward."
+
+"Of course you won't see him?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What shall I say?"
+
+"That I don't remember the name, and decline to see him."
+
+"Won't that increase his suspicions?"
+
+"I can't help it."
+
+"Very well."
+
+Ben went below; but thought he might as well put off the interview.
+It was not till afternoon that Mr. Campbell met him again.
+
+"Did you deliver my card, boy?" he asked.
+
+"My name is Benjamin," returned our hero, who did not fancy the
+manner of address.
+
+"Very well. Did you deliver my card, Benjamin?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What did your cousin say?"
+
+"That she knew no gentleman or family of your name."
+
+"I did not expect she would remember; but I have reasons for asking
+an interview."
+
+"You mustn't be offended, sir; but she declines to meet a stranger."
+
+Mr. Campbell was baffled.
+
+"She mistakes my motive," he said, in a tone expressive of
+annoyance. "How long do you stay here?"
+
+"I can't say, sir," said Ben coldly.
+
+Mr. Campbell bit his lip and walked away. He did not fancy being
+foiled by a boy. It occurred to him, however, that by waiting
+patiently he might see the young lady at dinner. He kept watch,
+therefore, till he saw Ben entering the dining-room, and then,
+entering himself, secured a seat near-by. But the young lady,
+greatly to his chagrin, did not appear. Ben observed his vigilant
+watch, and after dinner reported to Miss Sinclair.
+
+The young lady smiled.
+
+"I have thought of a way to deceive him and quiet his suspicions,"
+she said.
+
+Ben looked curious.
+
+"If I remain away from the table he will feel sure that I am his
+ward."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+"Listen to my plan, then. I have the New York Herald here, with half
+a column of advertisements of seamtresses. I will give you a list of
+three, and you shall engage one to be here early to-morrow morning.
+Select one with a figure as much like mine as possible."
+
+"All right!"
+
+"I see you look puzzled," said Miss Sinclair, smiling.
+
+"I am, a little; I don't know what good that will do."
+
+"Then I will explain. I shall dress the seamstress in one of my own
+dresses, and let her go to the table with you. Mr. Campbell will
+naturally suppose that she is Miss Ida Sinclair, and will be
+satisfied."
+
+"I see! That is splendid!" exclaimed Ben, entering with hearty
+enthusiasm into the conspiracy.
+
+It happened, luckily, that the first seamstress on whom he called
+was sufficiently like Miss Sinclair in figure to justify him in
+engaging her. He directed her to call at the hotel at eight the next
+morning without fail. The poor girl was glad to make this
+engagement, having been without employment for two weeks previous.
+
+When she arrived, Miss Sinclair, without confiding too much in her,
+made known her desire, and the girl, who had had but a scanty
+breakfast, was glad to embrace the opportunity of enjoying the
+hospitality of a first-class hotel. Miss Sinclair had really work
+enough to employ her during the day.
+
+When Mr. Campbell caught sight of Ben approaching the dining-room in
+company with a young lady, he advanced eagerly and peered into the
+young lady's face. He turned away in disappointment.
+
+"I have made a fool of myself. It is only a common country girl. I
+must look elsewhere for my ward."
+
+Directly after breakfast Ben had the satisfaction of seeing the
+obnoxious guardian depart in a hack.
+
+"Good-by, Mr. Vernon!" he said politely. "I see you are leaving the
+hotel."
+
+"Good-by!" muttered Campbell.
+
+"I hope you'll excuse my cousin for not seeing you?"
+
+"I don't think she's the one I supposed," said Campbell. "It's of no
+consequence."
+
+Ben hastened to inform Miss Sinclair of her guardian's departure.
+
+"Now the field is clear," said Ida, breathing a sigh of relief.
+
+"I say, Ida, you managed him tip-top," said Ben admiringly. "I never
+should have thought of such a plan."
+
+Miss Sinclair smiled faintly.
+
+"I don't like to employ deceit," she said, "but it seems necessary
+to fight such an enemy with his own weapons."
+
+"He wanted to deceive you. He put a wrong name on his card."
+
+"That is true, Ben. I must thank you for the manner in which you
+have aided me in this matter. I should not have known how to act if
+I had not had you to call upon."
+
+Ben's face brightened.
+
+"I am glad to hear you say that, Cousin Ida," he said. "You are
+spending so much money for me that I shall be glad to feel that I
+have earned some of it."
+
+"Have no trouble on that score, Ben. I foresee that you will
+continue to be of great service to me. I regard the money expended
+for you as well invested."
+
+Ben heard this with satisfaction. It naturally gave him a feeling of
+heightened importance when he reflected that a wealthy heiress had
+selected him as her escort and right-hand man, and that she was
+satisfied with her choice.
+
+On Saturday morning Miss Sinclair and Ben went on board the
+California steamer, and when the tide served, they started on their
+long voyage.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+IN SAN FRANCISCO.
+
+
+
+
+
+Ben was not seasick, and enjoyed the novel experiences vastly. Miss
+Sinclair was less fortunate. For four days she was sick and confined
+to her stateroom. After that she was able to appear among the other
+passengers. Ben was very attentive, and confirmed the favorable
+opinion she had already formed of him.
+
+At last the voyage came to a close. It was a bright, cheery morning
+when the steamer came within sight of San Francisco. It was not a
+populous and brilliant city as at present, for Ben's expedition
+dates back to the year 1856, only a few years after the discovery of
+gold. Still, there was a good-sized town on the site of the future
+city. The numerous passengers regarded it with rejoicing hearts, and
+exchanged hopeful congratulations. Probably with the exception of
+Miss Sinclair, all had gone out to make or increase their fortunes.
+Her fortune was already made. She had gone to enjoy personal
+liberty, and to find her plighted husband.
+
+"Well, Ben, we have nearly reached our destination," said Miss
+Sinclair, as she looked earnestly in the direction of the embryo
+city. "You are glad, are you not?"
+
+"Yes, Cousin Ida," said Ben slowly.
+
+"But you look thoughtful. Is there anything on your mind?"
+
+"I feel sorry that I am to part from you, Cousin Ida."
+
+"Thank you, Ben, but we are not to part permanently. You don't mean
+to forsake me utterly?"
+
+"Not if you need me," said our hero.
+
+"I shall still require your services. You remember that I came out
+here in search of a--friend?" said Miss Sinclair, hesitating.
+
+"Yes, I know, Cousin Ida."
+
+"I am desirous that he should know that I am in San Francisco, but,
+unfortunately, though I know he is in California, I have no idea
+where, or in what part of it he is to be found. Once in
+communication with him, I need have no further apprehension of
+interference or persecution on the part of my guardian."
+
+"To be sure," said Ben straightforwardly. "I suppose you would marry
+him?"
+
+"That may come some time," said Miss Sinclair, smiling, "but he must
+be found first."
+
+"You will travel about, I suppose?" said Ben.
+
+"No; I shall engage some one to travel for me. It would not be
+suitable for a young lady to go from one mining-camp to another."
+
+"Have you thought of any one you can send?" asked our hero.
+
+"Yes," said Miss Sinclair. "He is rather young, but I shall try the
+experiment."
+
+"Do you mean me?" asked Ben quickly.
+
+"Yes; are you willing to be my agent in the matter?"
+
+"I should like it of all things," said Ben, with sparkling eyes.
+
+"Then you may consider yourself engaged. The details we will discuss
+presently."
+
+"And where will you stay, Cousin Ida?"
+
+"In San Francisco. I have become acquainted with a lady on board who
+proposes to open a boarding-house in the city, or, rather, to take
+charge of one already kept by her sister. In my circumstances, it
+will be better for me to board with her than at a hotel. There I
+shall have a secure and comfortable home, while you are exploring
+the mining-districts in my interest."
+
+"That is an excellent plan," said Ben.
+
+"So I think."
+
+Here the conversation was interrupted by the bustle of approaching
+departure. Ben landed in the company of Miss Sinclair and Mrs.
+Armstrong, and the three proceeded at once to the boarding-house,
+over which the latter was in future to preside. A comfortable room
+was assigned to Miss Sinclair, and a small one to Ben. They were
+plainly furnished, but both enjoyed being on land once more.
+
+Our young hero, finding that his services were not required for the
+present, began to explore the city. It was composed almost wholly of
+wooden houses; some but one story in height, even on the leading
+streets, with here and there sand-hills, where now stand stately
+piles and magnificent hotels. He ascended Telegraph Hill, which
+then, as now, commanded a good view of the town and harbor; yet how
+different a view from that presented now. Ben was partly pleased and
+partly disappointed. Just from New York, he could not help comparing
+this straggling village on the shores of the Pacific with the even
+then great city on the Atlantic coast. He had heard so much of San
+Francisco that he expected something more. To-day a man may journey
+across the continent and find the same comfort, luxury, and
+magnificence in San Francisco which he left behind him in New York.
+
+In his explorations Ben came to a showy building which seemed a
+center of attraction. It seemed well filled, and people were
+constantly coming in and going out. Ben's curiosity was excited.
+
+"What is that?" he asked of a man who lounged outside, with a
+Mexican sombrero on his head and his hands thrust deep in his
+pockets.
+
+"That's the Bella Union, my chicken."
+
+"I don't know any better now."
+
+"Just go in there with a pocketful of gold-dust, like I did, and
+you'll find out, I reckon."
+
+"Is it a gambling-house?" inquired Ben, rather excited, for he had
+heard much of such places, but never seen one.
+
+"It's the devil's den," said the man bitterly. "I wish I'd never
+seen it."
+
+"Have you been unlucky?"
+
+"Look here, boy, jest look at me," said the stranger. "An hour ago I
+was worth a thousand dollars in gold-dust-took six months' hard work
+to scrape it together at the mines-now I haven't an ounce left."
+
+"Did you lose it there?" asked Ben, somewhat startled.
+
+"Well, I staked it, and it's gone."
+
+"Have you nothing left?"
+
+"Not an ounce. I haven't enough to pay for a bed."
+
+"What will you do for a place to sleep?" inquired Ben, to whom this
+seemed an alarming state of things.
+
+The stranger shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I don't worry about that," he said. "I'll stretch myself out
+somewhere when night comes. I'm used to roughing it."
+
+"Won't you get cold sleeping out of doors?" asked Ben.
+
+The other gave a short, quick laugh.
+
+"What do you take me for, boy? I don't look delicate, do I?"
+
+"Not very," answered Ben, smiling.
+
+"I've slept out under the stars pretty reg'lar for the past six
+months. I only wish I was back to the mines."
+
+"Do you think I can go in?" Ben said hesitatingly.
+
+"Yes, youngster, there's nothin' to bender, but take a fool's
+advice, and ef you've got money in your pocket, don't do it."
+
+"You don't think I'd gamble, do you?" said Ben, horror-struck.
+
+"I've seen youngsters smaller than you bet their pile."
+
+"You won't catch me doing it. I am a poor boy, and have nothing to
+lose."
+
+"All right, then. You're a country boy, ain't you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"So was I once, but I've had the greenness rubbed off'n me. I was
+jest such a youngster as you once. I wish I could go back twenty
+years."
+
+"You're not very old yet," said Ben, in a tone of sympathy. "Why
+don't you reform?"
+
+"No, I'm not old-only thirty-six-and I ain't so bad as I might be.
+I'm a rough customer, I expect, but I wouldn't do anything downright
+mean. Ef you're goin' into this den, I'll go with you. I can't take
+care of myself, but mayhap I can keep you out of danger."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+So Ben and his new acquaintance entered the famous gambling-den. It
+was handsomely furnished and decorated, with a long and gaily
+appointed bar, while the mirrors, pictures, glass, and silverware
+excited surprise, and would rather have been expected in an older
+city. There were crowds at the counter, and crowds around the
+tables, and the air was heavy with the odor of Chinese punk, which
+was used for cigar-lights, The tinkle of silver coin was heard at
+the tables, though ounces of gold-dust were quite as commonly used
+in the games of chance.
+
+"I suppose a good deal of money is won here?" said Ben, looking
+around curiously.
+
+"There's a good deal lost," said Ben's new acquaintance.
+
+"Gentlemen, will you drink with me?" said a young man, with flushed
+face, rising from a table near-by, both hands full of silver and
+gold, "I've been lucky to-night, and it's my treat."
+
+"I don't care if I do," said Ben's companion, with alacrity, and he
+named his drink.
+
+"What'll the boy have?"
+
+"Nothing, thank you," answered Ben, startled,
+
+"That won't do. I insist upon your drinking," hiccuped the young
+man, who had evidently drunk freely already. "Take it as a personal
+insult, if you don't."
+
+"Never mind the boy," said his new friend, to Ben's great relief.
+"He's young and innocent. He hasn't been round like you an' me."
+
+"That's so," assented the young man, taking the remark as a
+compliment. "Well, here's to you!"
+
+"I wouldn't have done it," said Ben's new friend rejoining him; "but
+it'll help me to forget what a blamed fool I've been to-night. You
+jest let the drink alone. That's my advice,"
+
+"I mean to," said Ben firmly. "Do people drink much out here?"
+
+"Whisky's their nat'ral element," said the miner. "Some of 'em don't
+drink water once a month. An old friend of mine, Joe Granger,
+act'lly forgot how it tasted. I gave him a glass once by way of a
+joke, and he said it was the weakest gin he ever tasted."
+
+"Are there no temperance societies out here?" asked Ben.
+
+The miner laughed.
+
+"It's my belief that a temperance lecturer would be mobbed, or hung
+to the nearest lamppost," he answered.
+
+It is hardly necessary to say that even in 1856 intemperance was
+hardly as common in California as the statements of his new friend
+led Ben to suppose. His informant was sincere, and spoke according
+to his own observation. It is not remarkable that at the mines, in
+the absence of the comforts of civilization, those who drink rarely
+or not at all at home should seek the warmth and excitement of
+drink.
+
+"What's your name, boy?" asked the miner abruptly.
+
+"Ben Stanton."
+
+"Where were you raised?"
+
+Though the term was a new one to Ben, he could not fail to
+understand it.
+
+"In the State of Connecticut."
+
+"That's where they make wooden nutmegs," said the miner, "isn't it?"
+
+"I never saw any made there," answered Ben, smiling.
+
+"I reckon you've come out here to make your fortin?"
+
+"I should like to," answered Ben; "but I shall be satisfied if I
+make a living, and a little more."
+
+"You'll do it. You look the right sort, you do. No bad habits, and
+willin' to work hard, and go twenty-four hours hungry when you can't
+help it."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where'll you go first?-to the mines, I reckon." "Yes," answered
+Ben, reflecting that he would be most likely to find Richard Dewey
+at some mining-settlement.
+
+"Ef I hadn't been a fool, and lost all my money, I'd go along with
+you."
+
+"I should like the company of some one who had already been at the
+mines," said Ben.
+
+Then it occurred to him that his new acquaintance might possibly
+have encountered Dewey in his wanderings. At any rate, it would do
+no harm to inquire.
+
+"Did you ever meet a man named Dewey at the mines?" he asked.
+
+"Friend of yours?"
+
+"No; I never saw him, but I have promised to hunt him up. I have
+some important news for him."
+
+"Dewey!" mused the miner. "Somehow that name sounds familiar like.
+Can you tell what he was like?"
+
+"I never saw him, but I can get a description of him."
+
+"I'm sure I've met a man by that name," said the miner thoughtfully,
+"but I can't rightly locate him. I have it," he added suddenly. "It
+was at Murphy's, over in Calaveras, that I came across him. A quiet,
+stiddy young man-looked as if he'd come from a city-not rough like
+the rest of us-might have been twenty-seven or twenty-eight years
+old-didn't drink any more'n you do, but kept to work and minded his
+own business."
+
+"That must be the man I am after," said Ben eagerly. "Do you think
+he is at Murphy's now?"
+
+"How can I tell? It's most a year sence I met him. Likely he's gone.
+Miners don't stay as long as that in one place."
+
+Ben's countenance fell. He did not seem as near to the object of his
+journey as he at first thought. Still, it was something to obtain a
+clue. Perhaps at Murphy's he might get a trace of Dewey, and,
+following it up, find him at last.
+
+"How far is Murphy's from here?" he asked.
+
+"Two hundred miles, I reckon."
+
+"Then I'd better go there first."
+
+"Not ef you want to find gold. There's other places that's better,
+and not so far away."
+
+"It may be so, but I care more to find Richard Dewey than to find
+gold in plenty."
+
+"You said he wasn't a friend of yours?" said the miner, in some
+surprise.
+
+"No; I don't know him, but I am engaged by a friend of his to find
+him. That friend will pay; my expenses while I am on the road."
+
+"Has Dewey come into a fortin?" asked the miner. "Has a rich uncle
+died and left him all his pile?"
+
+"Not that I know of," answered Ben.
+
+"Then there's a woman in it?" said his new acquaintance, in a tone
+of conviction. "It's his sweetheart that wants to find him. I'm
+right. Yes, I know it. But there's one thing that I can't see
+through."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"Why does the gal-if it is a gal-send a boy like you on the trail?"
+
+"Suppose there was no one else to send," suggested Ben.
+
+"That makes it a little plainer. Where is the gal?"
+
+"Ought I to confide in this man?" thought Ben. "I never met him
+before. I only know that he has lost all his money at the
+gambling-table. Yet he may help me, and I must confide in somebody.
+He is a rough customer, but he seems honest and sincere."
+
+"Here in San Francisco," he answered. "I cannot tell you more until
+I have her permission."
+
+"That's all right. Ef I can help you, I will, Ben. You said your
+name was Ben?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Mine is Bradley-Jake Bradley. I was raised in Kentucky, and I've
+got an old mother living there now, I hope. I haven't heard anything
+from her for nigh a year. It makes me homesick when I think of it.
+Got a mother, Ben?"
+
+"Neither father nor mother," answered Ben sadly.
+
+"That's bad," said the miner, with rough sympathy. "You're a young
+chap to be left alone in the world."
+
+"Yes; I do feel very lonely sometimes, Mr. Bradley."
+
+"Don't call me Mr. Bradley. I ain't used to it. Call me Jake."
+
+"All right, I'll remember it. Where can I meet you again, Jake?"
+
+"Here will do as well as anywhere."
+
+"Will you be here to-morrow morning at nine o'clock?"
+
+"Yes," answered Bradley. "I'll ask the porter to call me early," he
+added, with rough humor.
+
+Ben remembered that his new acquaintance had no money to pay for a
+night's lodging, and would be forced to sleep out.
+
+"Can't I lend you enough money to pay for a lodging?" he asked.
+
+"You kin, but you needn't. Jake Bradley ain't that delicate that
+it'll hurt him to sleep out. No, Ben, save your money, and ef I
+actilly need it I'll make bold to ask you for it; but I don't throw
+away no money on a bed."
+
+"If you hadn't lost your money in there," said Ben, pointing to the
+building they had just left, "wouldn't you have paid for a bed?"
+
+"I might have put on a little style then, I allow. It don't do for a
+man with a thousand dollars in his belt to lie out. I ain't afraid
+now."
+
+Ben, on leaving his new acquaintance, thought it best to go back at
+once to Miss Sinclair, to communicate the information he had
+obtained, rightly deeming it of importance.
+
+"Well, Ben, have you seen the whole town so soon?" asked Miss
+Sinclair, looking up from her trunk, which she was unpacking.
+
+"No, Cousin Ida, but I think I have learned something of Mr. Dewey."
+
+"You have not seen him?" asked Miss Sinclair quickly.
+
+"No, I have not seen him, but I have seen a man who met him nearly a
+year since at the mines."
+
+"Tell me about it, Ben," said the young lady. "Where was it that
+this man saw Richard-Mr. Dewey?"
+
+"At Murphy's."
+
+"Where is that?"
+
+"Two hundred miles away."
+
+"That is not far. Are you willing to go there?"
+
+"Yes, but you must remember, Cousin Ida, that it is nearly a year
+since he was there, and miners never stay long in one place, at
+least so my miner friend tells me."
+
+"At any rate, you may learn something of him there."
+
+"That is true."
+
+"Will this man go with you?"
+
+"He would, but he has no money to get out of the city."
+
+"I will pay his expenses as far as Murphy's, and farther, if he is
+likely to prove of service."
+
+"I think it will be best, if you can afford it," said Ben. "He knows
+the country, and I don't. Three months from now I should be willing
+to start off alone, but now-"
+
+"It is much better that you should have company."
+
+"It will cost you a good deal of money, Cousin Ida."
+
+"I shall not grudge a large sum, if need be, to find Richard. When
+can you see this man again?"
+
+"To-morrow morning."
+
+"Bring him here, and I will make arrangements with him."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+PRELIMINARY ARRANGEMENTS.
+
+
+
+
+
+At nine o'clock on the following morning Ben found Jake Bradley at
+the appointed rendezvous.
+
+"You're on time, my lad," said Jake. "I didn't know as you'd think
+it worth while to look me up."
+
+"I promised," said Ben.
+
+"And you've kept your promise. That's more'n many a man would do."
+
+"How did you pass the night?" asked Ben.
+
+"I stretched out on the soft side of a board. It isn't the first
+time. I slept like a top."
+
+"Have you had breakfast?"
+
+"Well, there! you've got me," said Jake. "I reckoned on findin' an
+old friend that keeps a saloon on Montgomery Street, but he's sold
+out to another man, and I hadn't the face to ask him for a bite.
+What a consarned fool I was to throw away all my pile."
+
+"Where is the saloon?" said Ben. "We will go there, and while you
+are eating we can arrange our business."
+
+"Thank you, boy. I ain't above acceptin' a favor of you, and I allow
+that I'm empty, and need fillin' up."
+
+"You needn't thank me, Mr. Bradley-"
+
+"Jake!"
+
+"Jake, then. I am only acting as the agent of Miss Sinclair."
+
+"The gal you spoke of?"
+
+Ben nodded.
+
+"Then you can thank her. If there's anything I kin do for her, jest
+let me know."
+
+"I mean to. That is the business I want to speak to you about."
+
+After a hearty breakfast the two turned their steps to the private
+boarding-house where Miss Sinclair was eagerly awaiting them. Though
+Jake referred to her as "the gal," in his conversation with Ben, he
+was entirely respectful when brought face to face with the young
+lady.
+
+"I want to thank you for my breakfast, miss, first of all," said the
+miner. "If I hadn't been such a thunderin' fool, I needn't have been
+beholden to any one, but-"
+
+"You are entirely welcome, Mr. Bradley," said the young lady. "Ben
+tells me that you know something of Richard Dewey."
+
+"Yes, miss."
+
+"He is a valued friend of mine, and I am anxious to hear all that
+you can tell me of him. You don't know where he is now?"
+
+"No, miss."
+
+"When did you see him?"
+
+"Nigh on to a year ago."
+
+"That is a long time. You have heard nothing of him since?"
+
+"No, miss. I should say yes," he added, with sudden recollection.
+"One of our boys saw him some months later, and reported that he was
+well and prosperin'. I disremember where he was, but somewhere at
+the mines."
+
+"That is something. Do you think you could find him?"
+
+"I could try, miss,"
+
+"I am going to send out Ben, but he is only a boy. I should like to
+have you go with him. You know the country, and he does not.
+Besides, you have seen Mr. Dewey."
+
+"Yes, I should know him ag'in if I met him."
+
+"How did he seem when you knew him?" asked Ida, hesitating, because
+conscious that the question was vaguely expressed and might not be
+understood.
+
+"He was a quiet, sober chap, workin' early and late," answered Jake,
+who, rough as he was, comprehended the drift of her questions. "He
+wasn't exactly pop'lar with the boys, because he wouldn't drink with
+'em, and that made them think he was proud, or grudged the expense."
+
+"They were very greatly mistaken," said Ida hastily.
+
+"We found that out," said the miner. "A young chap fell sick; he was
+a newcomer and had neither friends nor money, and was pretty bad
+off. Dewey sat up with him night after night, and gave him fifty
+dollars when he got well to help him back to 'Frisco. You see, his
+sickness made him tired of the mines."
+
+"That was like Richard," said Ida softly. "He was always
+kind-hearted."
+
+"After that," continued Jake, "none of us had a word to say agin'
+him. We knowed him better, and we liked him for his kindness to that
+young chap."
+
+If Jake Bradley had sought to commend himself to Ida Sinclair, he
+could not have found a better or more effectual way than by praising
+her lover. She became more cordial at once, and better satisfied
+with the arrangement she had formed to send off the ex-miner in
+Ben's company in search of her lover.
+
+The arrangements were speedily made. The two were to start out,
+equipped at Miss Sinclair's expense, on an exploring-tour, the main
+object being to find Richard Dewey, and apprise him of her arrival
+in California. They were permitted, however, to work at mining,
+wherever there was a favorable opportunity, but never to lose sight
+of the great object of their expedition. From time to time, as they
+had opportunity, they were to communicate with Miss Sinclair,
+imparting any information they might have gathered.
+
+"I shall have to leave much to your discretion," said Ida,
+addressing them both. "I know absolutely nothing of the country, and
+you, Mr. Bradley, are tolerably familiar with it. I have only to add
+that should you become unfortunate, and require more money, you have
+only to let me know. In any event, I shall take care to recompense
+you for all your efforts in my behalf."
+
+"We don't want to bear too heavy on your purse, miss," said Jake
+Bradley. "Once we get to the mines, we kin take care of ourselves.
+Can't we, Ben?"
+
+"I hope so, Mr. Bradley."
+
+Bradley eyed Ben reproachfully, and our hero at once smilingly
+corrected himself. "I mean Jake."
+
+"That suits me better. I s'pose the young lady wouldn't like to call
+me Jake?"
+
+"I think not," said Ida, smiling.
+
+"I ain't used to bein' called mister. The boys always called me
+Jake."
+
+"But I am not one of the boys, Mr. Bradley," said Miss Sinclair.
+
+"Right you are, miss, and I reckon Richard Dewey would rather have
+you as you are."
+
+Ida laughed merrily. To her the miner was a new character, unlike
+any she had ever met, and though rough and unconventional, she was
+disposed to like him.
+
+"Find him for me, and you can ask him the question if you like. Tell
+him from me-but you must first know me by my real name."
+
+Ben looked surprised. He had forgotten that Ida Sinclair was only
+assumed to elude the vigilance of her guardian.
+
+"My real name is Florence Douglas. I am of Scotch descent, as you
+will judge. Can you remember the name?"
+
+"I can, Cousin Ida-I mean Cousin Florence," said Ben.
+
+"Then let Ida Sinclair be forgotten. Richard--Mr. Dewey-would not
+know me by that name."
+
+"I tell you, Ben, that gal's a trump!" said Jake Bradley
+enthusiastically, when they were by themselves; "and so I'll tell
+Dick Dewey when I see him."
+
+"She's been a kind friend to me, Jake. I hope we can find Mr. Dewey
+for her."
+
+"We'll find him if he's in California," answered Jake.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE CANON HOTEL.
+
+
+
+
+
+Late in the afternoon of the third day subsequent a man and a boy
+might have been seen riding slowly through a rocky canon probably
+eighty miles west from San Francisco. Both were mounted on the small
+native horses of California, generally called mustangs. These
+animals possess a strength disproportioned to their size, and show
+great endurance. At times they have a playful habit of bucking, not
+quite agreeable to an inexperienced horseman.
+
+The reader will already have guessed that the two riders are Jake
+Bradley and Ben. The mustangs were on a walk, being apparently weary
+with the day's tramp.
+
+"Well, Ben," said Bradley, "what do you say to camping out for the
+night?"
+
+"I have no objection," said Ben, "and I don't think my horse has."
+
+"He is better off than mine, having less to carry. Are you tired?"
+
+"Not very tired, but my limbs are rather stiff."
+
+"What hotel shall we put up at, Ben?" asked Bradley, with a humorous
+glance about him.
+
+"There isn't much choice," said Ben. "The Canon Hotel seems to be
+the only one that is open hereabouts. The only objection is, that we
+shall have to sleep on the floor, with the windows all open."
+
+"That's about so, Ben," assented Bradley, laughing. "I shouldn't
+mind sleeping in a Christian bed to-night myself. Well, here goes!"
+
+As he spoke, he jumped from the back of his horse, and, taking out a
+rope, tethered it to a tree hard by.
+
+Ben followed his example.
+
+"Now for the grub," said Bradley. "I'm powerfully empty myself. This
+ridin' all day up and down hill is wearin' to the stomach. What do
+you say?"
+
+"I've got a healthy appetite myself, Jake."
+
+"This yere Canon Hotel that you was talkin' about ain't first-class.
+It don't supply anything but cold victuals. Now, ef we had a cup of
+coffee to wash it down, and kinder warm us up, it would go to the
+right spot, eh, Ben?"
+
+"You are right, Jake! but please don't speak of it again. It makes
+my mouth water."
+
+"Stay here a few minutes, Ben, and I'll reconnoiter a little.
+Perhaps I can find a better place for campin'."
+
+"All right, Jake!"
+
+While Bradley was absent Ben threw himself on the ground, and began
+to think. It was the third day of the expedition. Ben enjoyed riding
+through this new, unsettled country. He almost felt in the solitudes
+of the woods and hills as if he were the original explorer of this
+far-distant country. He was more than three thousand miles away from
+his native town, entrusted with a mission of importance. The thought
+was gratifying to his boyish fancy, and inspired him with a new
+sense of power and increased his self-reliance. He was glad,
+however, to have the company of Jake Bradley. He was ready to
+acknowledge that his chances of success, had he started alone, would
+have been much smaller, and certainly he would have found it
+exceedingly lonesome.
+
+His companion was not a man of culture, nor were his tastes
+elevated, but there was a rough honesty about him, and a good humor,
+which made him an agreeable companion. Besides, he knew the country,
+and Ben felt secure in leaving the conduct of the trip to him.
+
+"I am glad I came out here," thought Ben, as, with his head pillowed
+on his knapsack, he looked up through the branches of the tall trees
+to the blue sky beyond. "It's better than staying at home and
+working for Deacon Pitkin, or blacking boots for Sam Sturgis. Here I
+am my own man, free and don't need to run at anybody's bidding."
+
+Probably most boys of Ben's age share his love of independence, but
+it is neither practicable nor desirable that at sixteen a boy should
+be his own master, much as he may desire it. In the case of our
+hero, circumstances had thrown him upon his own resources, and it
+may be added that he could better be trusted with the management of
+himself than most boys.
+
+Ben's reverie was broken in upon by the return of his companion.
+
+"What are you dreamin' about, Ben?" queried Jake.
+
+"I was thinking about home, Jake."
+
+"This don't look much like it, eh, Ben?"
+
+"Not much."
+
+"Well, my lad, I've found something," continued Bradley.
+
+"Found something? What! a nugget?" exclaimed Ben, in excitement.
+
+"Not much. This ain't the place for such a find as that."
+
+"What, then, Jake?"
+
+"I've found a hotel."
+
+"Where?" asked Ben eagerly.
+
+"Get up and stand by me. There! look yonder. What do you see?"
+
+"It looks like smoke."
+
+"It is smoke. There's a cabin yonder. I've reconnoitered, and I seed
+the door open, and a woman inside. Now, I'm going to ask her to give
+us some supper and a bed. Won't that be fine?"
+
+"Splendid, Jake!"
+
+"Then unhitch that animal of yours, and we'll put our best foot
+forrards, and maybe we'll get a hot supper and a Christian bed to
+sleep in."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A POLITE HOSTESS.
+
+
+
+
+
+The cabin was a rough one, built of logs, with an adobe chimney. It
+contained two rooms and a loft. The inducements to live in such a
+lonely spot must have been small enough, but so many undesirable
+localities are inhabited, that it is hardly worth while to feel or
+express surprise at men's taste in such matters.
+
+The approach of Ben and his companion was not observed by the inmate
+or inmates of the cabin. It was only when Bradley, dismounting from
+his mustang, struck the door-post with the handle of his whip-for it
+is needless to say that bells were not to be found in that
+neighborhood--that their presence became known.
+
+A woman, tall, spare, and with harsh features, came to the door. She
+eyed Bradley askance.
+
+"Well, what's wanted, and who are you?" she demanded.
+
+"We are bound for the mines, ma'am," said Bradley. "We expected to
+camp out to-night, but we happened to see the smoke rising from your
+chimbly, and we made bold to ride up and ask you for supper and a
+night's lodging."
+
+"We don't take in tramps," said the woman roughly.
+
+"We're on a tramp," said Bradley, resolved not to be rebuffed, "but
+we've got money to pay for our accommodations."
+
+"This ain't a hotel," said the woman, but less roughly.
+
+"Of course not," said Bradley, in a conciliatory manner; "but I
+guess you won't object to get us some supper and give us a bed.
+We'll pay for all the trouble we make. That's fair, ain't it?"
+
+"I don't know what my husband will say," returned the woman, in an
+undecided manner.
+
+"Won't you ask him, ma'am?"
+
+"He's gone out just now. He won't be back for an hour."
+
+"While you're waitin' for him, can't you get us some supper? Then
+you can send us off if he ain't willin' to keep us."
+
+"I'll do that," said the woman. "You'd better stay outside till I
+get supper ready. There ain't much room here, and you'll be in the
+way."
+
+"Jest as you say, ma'am. I s'pose it would be too much to ask if you
+kin give us a hot cup of coffee. We haven't tasted any since we left
+'Frisco."
+
+"I can give you coffee," answered the woman. "My husband likes it,
+and we always keep it on hand."
+
+"Good!" said Bradley, his face lighting up with satisfaction. "We've
+rid far to-day, and a cup of coffee will go to the right spot."
+
+Bradley and Ben threw themselves on the ground near-by, and awaited
+with complacence the call to supper.
+
+"We're in luck, Ben," said his companion. "Who'd have expected a hot
+supper out here in this lonely place?"
+
+"I don't much like the looks of our landlady, Jake," said Ben.
+
+"She ain't handsome, I allow, Ben; but if she gives us a good
+supper, that don't matter. We must make the most of this, for it's
+uncertain when we get another."
+
+"W'on't she give us breakfast in the morning?"
+
+"I didn't think of that. Maybe she will, and that'll be a good start
+on our to-morrow's journey."
+
+In about three-quarters of an hour the woman came to the door, and
+called the travelers in to supper.
+
+An unpainted wooden table was set in the middle of the floor, on
+which was spread a simple but appetizing meal. There was a plate of
+meat, which appeared to have been fried; a loaf of bread, and a pot
+of coffee; but there was neither milk nor butter. This naturally
+detracted from the attractiveness of the bread and coffee, but our
+travelers were not disposed to be fastidious.
+
+Ben tasted the meat, and it evidently puzzled him. In taste it
+differed from anything he had eaten before.
+
+Bradley smiled at his perplexity.
+
+"Don't you know what it is, Ben?" he asked.
+
+"No."
+
+"Do you like it?"
+
+"I am hungry enough to enjoy anything."
+
+"Well, lad, it's bear steak."
+
+"Bear steak!" repeated Ben, in surprise.
+
+"Exactly. I've eaten it before two or three times. You see, we
+haven't any markets here to depend on, and we must take what we can
+get."
+
+"It isn't bad," said Ben meditatively.
+
+During this conversation the landlady had been out of the room. As
+it concluded, she reentered.
+
+"Your supper is good, ma'am," said Bradley.
+
+"Now if you only had a cow to supply you with milk and butter, you'd
+be fixed complete."
+
+"If you want 'em you'll have to go somewhere else," said the woman.
+
+"Excuse me, ma'am. I wasn't complainin' of the fare-not by no means.
+I was only thinkin' of you."
+
+"There's no call to think of me, stranger."
+
+"Have you lived long in these parts, ma'am?" inquired Bradley
+socially.
+
+"Fools ask questions, and fools answer them. I ain't a fool,"
+responded the polite hostess.
+
+"Excuse my curiosity, ma'am. I didn't know that it would be
+disagreeable to you to answer."
+
+"Who told you it was?"
+
+"I thought from your way of speakin'."
+
+"It's none of your business, that's all," said the hostess.
+
+Even Bradley was silenced. It was clear that their hostess was not
+inclined to be social. The remainder of the meal passed in silence.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.
+
+
+
+
+
+After supper the two travelers emerged from, the cabin and stretched
+themselves out under the trees once more. Bradley produced a clay
+pipe, filled the bowl with tobacco, and began to smoke.
+
+"It's a pity you don't smoke, Ben," he said, his face expressing the
+satisfaction he felt.
+
+"Would you advise me to, Jake?" questioned our hero.
+
+"No, Ben; I guess you're better off without it; but there's nothing
+makes me feel so good as a smoke after a good supper."
+
+"I feel comfortable without it, Jake."
+
+"Then let well enough alone. I wonder whether our sweet-tempered
+hostess is goin' to give us a bed to-night. Not that it matters
+much. I'd rather have a good supper, and sleep under the trees, than
+have the best bed in Californy without the supper."
+
+Here their attention was drawn to a man who was leisurely
+approaching. He was dressed roughly in a red shirt, trousers tucked
+in his boots, and a hat with a broad flapping brim. As he strode
+along, his revolver and bowie-knife were carelessly exposed. His
+complexion was dark; he wore an abundant beard, and whatever he
+might be, he looked like a desperado, whom one would not care to
+meet on a dark night, unless well armed and on the alert.
+
+He stopped short when he caught sight of the two travelers.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"We're bound for the mines," answered Bradley. "Your good lady, if
+so be as you live there--indicating the cabin-has just provided us
+with a capital supper."
+
+The newcomer glanced toward the door of the cabin, at which the
+woman now made her appearance.
+
+"Givin' you some supper, eh? I hope she's saved some for me."
+
+"Yes, Jack," said his wife, in a conciliatory tone; "there's plenty
+for you. These strangers offered to pay well for supper and lodging,
+and I thought you wouldn't object. I gave them the supper, but I
+wouldn't say anything about the lodging until you came."
+
+"Well, stir round, old gal, and get me something to eat, for I'm
+dead hungry."
+
+"Supper is ready now, Jack."
+
+The man entered his cabin, and the next twenty minutes were consumed
+in repairing the ravages of hunger.
+
+"How do you like his looks, Jake?" asked Ben, in a low voice.
+
+"He's just the sort of man I'd expect to find in a State prison,"
+answered Bradley. "That man's a rascal, if looks mean anything."
+
+"I'll tell you what he reminds me of, Jake. Did you ever read '
+Oliver Twist'?"
+
+"All of a Twist? That's a queer name. What is it?"
+
+"It's a story by Dickens. He describes a brutal villain, named Bill
+Sykes, who murders his wife."
+
+"This chap looks as if he wouldn't mind doing it. His wife's afraid
+of him, though half an hour ago I would have said she wasn't afraid
+of anything."
+
+"That's so. They seem pretty well matched."
+
+Presently the master of the cabin came out. It was not easy for his
+harsh features to look amiable, but his manner was no longer
+offensive. He even seemed inclined to be social.
+
+"Traveled fur to-day?" he inquired.
+
+"About thirty miles, as near as I can guess," said Bradley.
+
+"Is that your boy?"
+
+"No, he's no kin to me. We're travelin' together-that's all."
+
+"Goin' to the mines?"
+
+"We are goin' to Murphy's."
+
+"Come from 'Frisco?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The proprietor of the cabin at this reply fixed his eyes
+reflectively upon Ben and his companion.
+
+"I'd like to know what he's thinkin' about," said Bradley to
+himself. "Somehow I mistrust him. A man with that face can't help
+bein' a scoundrel."
+
+"Don't you find it lonely livin' out here?" he asked.
+
+Jack Carter shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I don't care for company," he said. "As long as me and the old
+woman get enough to eat, our own company's good enough for us."
+
+"Are there any mines near-by?" asked Bradley.
+
+"Not very."
+
+"What inducement can he have to live out here in the
+wilderness?" thought Bradley. "If he were workin' a mine now, I could
+understand. How does he make a livin', I wonder?"
+
+"Have you lived here long?" he asked.
+
+"Quite a while."
+
+It was clear that Jack did not care to answer definitely, and was
+disposed to give as little information as possible about himself.
+
+It was yet early when the two travelers felt an inclination to
+sleep. They had had a hard day's tramp, and wished to be stirring
+early the next day. As yet, however, they were uncertain whether
+they would be permitted to sleep in the cabin. Bradley resolved to
+put the question to the man.
+
+"If you haven't got room for us to sleep," he said, "Ben and I will
+camp out, as we have done before."
+
+"The old woman's makin' up a bed for you," said Jack. "We don't keep
+a hotel, but we've got room for you two."
+
+"Thank you."
+
+"Wait here, and I'll see if the bed's ready."
+
+He entered the cabin, probably to consult with his wife.
+
+"I don't know why it is, Ben," said Bradley, in a low voice, "but I
+mistrust that man."
+
+"Don't you think it safe to sleep here?" asked Ben gravely.
+
+"I think if we are prudent we shall keep a careful watch over our
+host and hostess; they may mean us harm."
+
+"What motive would they have for harming us, Jake?"
+
+"To get possession of our money. There's a gang of robbers
+hereabouts, who make their livin' by stopping stages, and lyin' in
+wait for solitary travelers, and I strongly suspect that this man is
+one of them."
+
+"Do you judge from his looks?"
+
+"Not wholly, but I can't think of any other motive he can have for
+livin' in this out-of-the-way place. There are no mines near, and
+the huntin' wouldn't pay him. I may be mistaken, but that's what I
+think."
+
+"What shall we do?" asked Ben, a little startled by his companion's
+suggestion.
+
+"That's more than I can tell you, Ben."
+
+"We might camp out."
+
+"And be surprised in our sleep. No, we shall be as safe in the cabin
+as outside. Besides, I may be wrong. But, hush! here comes our
+agreeable friend."
+
+Jack Carter had in his hand a bottle and a tin mug.
+
+"Strangers," said he, "Jack Carter's a poor man, but he's not so
+poor that he can't offer a glass of wine to a friend."
+
+As he spoke, he poured out a liberal mug of wine and offered it to
+Bradley.
+
+Our friend Bradley was not a member of a temperance society, and he
+could not resist the temptation. His conscience smote him when he
+thought of the suspicions he had cherished, and there was a sudden
+revulsion.
+
+"After all," thought he, "Jack Carter is a good fellow. He don't
+look it, to be sure, but a man can't help his looks What is it the
+poet says, 'A man may smile and be a villain still.' Jack's a rough
+customer, but he's treatin' Ben and me tiptop."
+
+"I drink your health, Jack," he said cordially. "You've treated Ben
+and me like gentlemen, and we're glad to know you. You're the right
+sort."
+
+And he drained the mug.
+
+Jack Carter filled it again, and passed it to Ben.
+
+"Take a drink, boy," he said. "It will make you feel good."
+
+"No, thank you," said Ben politely.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Jack, frowning. "Why won't you drink?"
+
+"I never drink," answered Ben. "I promised my father I wouldn't, and
+I can't break my word."
+
+"This wine is weak. It wouldn't hurt a baby."
+
+"I would rather not drink," said Ben.
+
+"Ain't you goin' a little too fur, Ben?" remonstrated Bradley. "Your
+father meant rum and whisky and sich. He wouldn't mind wine."
+
+"Yes, he would," said Ben, resolutely. "I had an uncle who died a
+drunkard, and it was that that made my father so particular. I
+promised him faithfully, and now that he's dead, I can't break my
+work to him."
+
+"The boy's right, Jack," said Bradley. "It won't hurt you and me,
+but if he don't want to drink, we won't press him."
+
+"It's blasted nonsense!" exclaimed Jack angrily. "The boy's puttin'
+on airs, that's what's the matter."
+
+"He's a good boy," said Bradley. "You don't know him as well as I
+do."
+
+"Jest as you say," muttered Jack, in a dissatisfied tone. "If you
+want to go to bed now, you can."
+
+"I'm ready, for one," said Bradley, rising with, alacrity. "I'm
+powerful sleepy." "Come in, then." They followed their host into the
+cabin.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+A TIGHT PLACE.
+
+
+
+
+
+The lower part of the cabin was divided into two rooms, over which
+was a loft. There was no staircase; but there was a short ladder by
+which the ascent was made.
+
+"You're to sleep up there," said Jack, pointing to the loft. "Me and
+the old woman sleep below."
+
+"All right," said Bradley, gaping. "I can sleep anywhere to-night.
+I'm powerful sleepy."
+
+He ascended the ladder first, and Ben followed. There was no
+bedstead, but a straw pallet was stretched in one corner, with a
+blanket in place of a quilt.
+
+"I sha'n't undress, Ben," said Bradley, throwing himself down on the
+rude bed. "I can't keep my eyes open long enough. I think I never
+felt so sleepy in the whole course of my life."
+
+"I am tired, but not sleepy," returned Ben.
+
+"I won't undress, either. I can sleep just as well in my clothes."
+
+Scarcely a minute had passed when Bradley was breathing in the
+unconsciousness of slumber.
+
+As Ben lay down beside him, he could not help feeling surprised at
+his companion's yielding so suddenly to the power of sleep. That he
+should be tired was not surprising; but when seated outside he had
+not seemed unusually drowsy, that is, up to the time of his drinking
+the wine. A quick suspicion flashed upon Ben's mind. Had the wine
+anything to do with this sudden drowsiness?
+
+Ben had not much experience of life; but he had heard of liquors
+being drugged, and it seemed possible that the wine which had been
+offered to Bradley might have been tampered with. If so, it was only
+too evident what was the object of their host. It was natural to
+suppose that the two travelers were provided with money, and it was
+undoubtedly the intention of Jack Carter to rob them in their sleep.
+
+This was not a pleasant thought, nor one calculated to soothe Ben to
+sleep. He was only a boy, and to find himself in a robber's den was
+certainly rather a startling discovery. If he had been able to
+consult with his companion, it would have been a relief; but Bradley
+was in a profound sleep.
+
+Ben nudged him, but without the slightest effect. He was insensible
+as a log. Finding more vigorous measures necessary, the boy shook
+him, but succeeded only in eliciting a few muttered words.
+
+"I can't wake him," thought Ben, more and more disturbed in mind. "I
+am sure it must be the wine which makes him sleep so heavily. What
+can I do?"
+
+This question was more easily asked than answered. Ben was quite
+aware that single-handed he could not cope with a powerful man like
+Carter. With Bradley's help he would have felt secure; but no
+assistance could now be expected from his companion. So far as he
+could see, he must submit to be robbed, and to see his companion
+robbed. Of course, there was a chance that he might be mistaken. It
+was possible that Bradley's might be a natural sleep, induced by
+excessive fatigue, and there might be nothing sinister in the
+intentions of their host.
+
+Ben, however, found it difficult to convince himself of this, much
+as he desired to do so. The existence of a gang of robbers in the
+vicinity, referred to by Bradley, was not calculated to reassure
+him. If Carter did not belong to this gang, his personal appearance
+was certainly calculated to foster the suspicion of his connection
+with them, and the suspicion was strengthened by the fact of his
+living in this lonely place without any apparent inducement.
+
+For the first time, perhaps, since he had left the East, he wished
+himself in the security of home. As Deacon Pitkin's hired boy,
+living on frugal diet, he would have been better off than here at
+the mercy of a mountain bandit.
+
+But Ben was a boy of spirit, and not inclined to submit in a
+cowardly manner without first considering if in any possible manner
+he could guard against the danger which menaced him. Fatigued as he
+was by the day's ride, he would, under ordinary circumstances, have
+fallen asleep quickly; but now anxiety and apprehension kept him
+broad awake.
+
+"If I could only rouse Bradley," he said to himself, "I should feel
+more comfortable. I don't like the responsibility of deciding what
+is best to be done."
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of low voices below.
+Evidently Carter and his wife were conversing, and probably about
+them. Anxious to hear what was said, as this might give him a clue
+to their plans, Ben rose softly from his low couch, and drew near
+the edge of the opening through which he had mounted into the loft.
+In this position he was able to hear what was said.
+
+"They must have money," said Carter. "They would need it to get them
+out to the mines. Whatever it is, I am bound to have it."
+
+"The man seems strong," replied the wife. "You may not find it an
+easy task to master him."
+
+"What can he do?" returned Carter contemptuously. "He is in a dead
+sleep. I put enough stuff into his wine to keep him in a stupor for
+twelve good hours. If I'm not a match for a sleeping man, I'll go
+and hang myself."
+
+"But the boy-he took no wine."
+
+"No; he's one of them temperance sneaks. But he's only a baby. I
+could lay him out with one hand."
+
+"Don't harm him, Jack!" said the woman. "I can't help feeling kindly
+to him. Our boy, had he lived, would have been about his age. I
+can't help thinking of that."
+
+"Don't be silly! Because we had a boy once, mustn't interfere with
+business."
+
+"But you won't hurt him, Jack?" pleaded the woman, who, hard as she
+seemed, appeared to have a soft side to her nature.
+
+"No; I won't hurt the brat if he behaves himself and doesn't get
+bumptious. Likely enough he'll be fast asleep. Boys at his age
+generally sleep well."
+
+"In the morning they will discover that they have been robbed. What
+will you say to them?"
+
+"Tell them it's none of my business; that I know nothing about it."
+
+"But if the boy is awake, and sees you at work, Jack?"
+
+"Then it will be different. It would have been better for him to
+have taken the wine."
+
+"Do you think he suspected anything?"
+
+"No; how could he suspect that the wine was drugged? He is one of
+them temperance sneaks, I tell you."
+
+"How soon are you going up, Jack?"
+
+"In half an hour. I want to give the boy time enough to get asleep.
+That will make matters easy."
+
+"Don't you think I had better go up, Jack?"
+
+"Why should you? Why should I let a woman do my work?"
+
+"Then I should know the boy would receive no harm."
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it? You make a great fuss about the boy."
+
+"Yes; I can't help thinking about my own boy."
+
+"Oh, drop that! It makes me sick. Wasn't he my boy as well as yours?
+I'm sorry he's gone. I could have brought him up to be a help to us
+in our business."
+
+"Never, Jack, never!" exclaimed his wife fervently.
+
+"Hello! what's that?"
+
+"I mean that I should have been unwilling to have our son grow up no
+better than we are. He, at any rate, should have been a good man."
+
+"What's up now, old woman? You haven't been attending Sunday-school
+lately, have you?" demanded Jack, with a sneer.
+
+"I did once, Jack, and I haven't quite forgotten what I learned
+there, though it don't look like it now."
+
+"Are you going back on me?" demanded Jack fiercely.
+
+"No, Jack, it's too late for that. I have helped you, and I mean to
+help you, but to-night the sight of that boy, and the thought of our
+son, who died so long ago, have given me a turn. If it was a man, it
+would be different. But you have promised you won't harm him, and no
+more need be said."
+
+"Too much has been said already, to my thinkin'," growled Jack.
+"However, that's over, and I expect you to help me if I need help."
+
+Ben heard every word that was said, and it confirmed his suspicions.
+There was no doubt that an attempt would be made to rob him and his
+companion before morning, and the prospect was not pleasant. By
+submitting quietly he would come to no harm, and the loss of the
+money would not be irreparable. He and Bradley had each started with
+a hundred dollars, supplied by Miss Doughlas, and thus far but
+little of this sum had been spent. Their employer would doubtless
+send them a further supply if they were robbed, but they would be
+reluctant to apply to her, since the loss would be partly the result
+of their imprudence.
+
+Ben felt that he was in a tight place, and he was not quite certain
+what he should or could do.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+AN EVENING CALL.
+
+
+
+
+
+To lie awake in momentary expectation of a hostile attack, from
+which there is apparently no escape, is by no means a comfortable
+position. The cabin was in the heart of the woods, with no other
+dwelling within twenty miles, so far as Ben knew. In fact, if it
+were true, as Jack had said, that there were no mines near at hand,
+there were probably no neighbors, except, possibly, of Jack's kind.
+
+The question recurred to Ben: Was he willing to surrender his money,
+and go forth penniless, or should he attempt to escape or resist?
+
+"If Jake would only wake up!" he thought, surveying, with
+perplexity, the recumbent form at his side.
+
+But Jake was as senseless as a log, and the attempt to rouse him
+would inevitably attract attention below and precipitate the attack,
+besides leaving them utterly penniless.
+
+There was another idea which occurred to our hero: Could he secrete
+his own money and Jake's, or the greater part of it, and thus save
+it from the clutches of his dishonest host?
+
+If it had been in the form of bank-bills, there might have been some
+chance of doing this, but it was not so easy to conceal gold pieces.
+While considering this question, Ben rose softly and looked out of
+the window. Strictly speaking, there was no window, but a hole about
+fifteen inches square, screened by a curtain of coarse cotton cloth.
+This Ben moved aside, and looked out.
+
+It was not a very dark night. In the half-light Ben was able to see
+a considerable distance. The height of the opening from the ground
+was probably not much over twelve feet, as well as the boy could
+estimate. There would have been no difficulty in his getting out and
+swinging to the ground, but to this move there were two objections:
+First, he would be sure to be heard by his enemy below; and,
+secondly, he was unwilling to leave Jake in the power of the enemy.
+
+While he was standing at the window he heard the noise of some one
+moving below. The heavy step convinced him that it was Jack. He
+could not leave his place and lie down without being detected, and
+he hastily decided to remain where he was.
+
+In this way he might possibly gain time.
+
+Jack softly stepped from round to round of the ladder, and presently
+his head peered above the floor. He started angrily when he saw the
+boy at the window.
+
+"What are you about there, boy?" he demanded roughly.
+
+Ben turned, and said composedly: "I am looking out."
+
+"Why are you not in bed and asleep, like your friend?"
+
+"I tried to sleep, sir, but I couldn't."
+
+"Do you expect to get to sleep looking out of that hole?"
+
+"I thought I'd see how light it was."
+
+"Well, I can't have you trampin' round, keepin' the old woman and me
+awake. I wouldn't have let you sleep here ef I had known that's the
+way you spend the night."
+
+"I beg pardon if I disturbed you," said Ben politely.
+
+"Well, that don't do no good, your apologizin'. Jest lay down and
+get to sleep in a hurry, or I'll know the reason why."
+
+"All right, sir," said Ben submissively.
+
+"What's the name of that chap that's with you?" continued Jack.
+
+"It's Jake Bradley."
+
+"He's a sensible man, he is. He lays down and goes to sleep, while
+you're trampin' round the room and lookin' out of doors. You won't
+see nothin' to pay you."
+
+"I think you're right, sir. I'll lie down and go to sleep."
+
+"You'd better. Me and the old woman can't be kept awake all night."
+
+When Ben had resumed his place on the floor, the intruder descended
+the ladder. Though it would have been easy enough to execute his
+plan of robbery now, he evidently preferred to wait till both the
+travelers should be asleep.
+
+It was not true, as he had said, that he had heard Ben moving about.
+In fact, it had been a surprise to him to find the boy up, but this
+afforded a convenient and plausible pretext for his intrusion, and
+he had availed himself of it.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+BEN'S MIDNIGHT EXCURSION.
+
+
+
+
+
+When Jack Carter went downstairs it was his intention to wait from
+half an hour to an hour, and then to make another visit to his
+lodgers. This would allow time for Ben to fall asleep, and, although
+Jack would have had no difficulty in overcoming his resistance, he
+preferred to commit the robbery when both the travelers were in a
+state of unconsciousness.
+
+But he overestimated his ability to keep awake. Usually he was a
+sound sleeper, and during the day preceding he had taken a long walk
+across the mountains. The natural result followed. While he was
+waiting for Ben to fall asleep, he fell asleep himself. Ben was not
+long in ascertaining this welcome fact. A series of noises, not very
+musical, announced that Jack was asleep. He had a confirmed habit of
+snoring, to which, fortunately, his wife had become accustomed, so
+that it did not disturb her rest.
+
+Ben crept near the edge of the loft and looked over. The bed on
+which his amiable host reposed was in full view. Both husband and
+wife were fast asleep, and their sleep was likely to be protracted.
+
+Under this change of circumstances, what was Ben to do?
+
+This was the question which he anxiously asked himself.
+
+Now there would be no difficulty in escaping, if he saw fit. But
+here there was a difficulty. Jake could not be roused, and, if he
+could, it would not be very agreeable to lose a night's sleep, for
+Ben, as well as his host, felt very sleepy. Yet if he allowed
+himself to remain in the loft, the danger of robbery would recur in
+the morning, for Jack would be sure to wake earlier than Bradley,
+who had been drugged, as Ben was convinced.
+
+Sometimes, in the midst of perplexity, a way of relief is suddenly
+opened. A lucky suggestion, sent, perhaps, by an overruling
+Providence, provides a path of escape from some menacing evil. This
+happened in the present instance.
+
+"Why," thought Ben, "can't I take our money, steal downstairs and
+out of the cabin, and hide it in some secure place where we can find
+it in the morning? Then I can sleep in security for the remainder of
+the night, and my thievish friend will be disappointed."
+
+No sooner did the idea occur to Ben than he prepared to carry it
+out.
+
+As has already been said, Bradley had about a hundred dollars in
+gold pieces, and Ben as much more. This would have made a very good
+haul for Jack, who did not anticipate obtaining so much. It was more
+than our young hero felt willing to lose, and he was prepared to run
+a large risk in the effort to save it.
+
+The risk, of course, was that he might wake Jack or his wife in
+coming downstairs. There would be no difficulty in opening the door,
+for it was not fastened in any way. As to the danger of rousing his
+entertainers, Ben was not much afraid of waking Jack, for he was
+evidently in a sound sleep. His wife was more likely to be
+disturbed, and, in that case, Ben was provided with an excuse. He
+would say that he was thirsty, and in search of some water, which
+would have been true enough, though this was not the main object of
+his expedition.
+
+Ben had not taken off his shoes and stockings, and began to descend
+the ladder with his shoes on, but it occurred to him that his steps
+might be audible, and he quietly removed both shoes and stockings.
+He had previously taken Bradley's money, with the exception of a few
+dollars, without in the least arousing his sleepy comrade, who, in
+consequence of the potion he had unsuspiciously taken, was still
+wrapped in unconscious slumber.
+
+"Now," thought Ben, "I must do my work as quickly as I can."
+
+He was not insensible to the risk he ran, and it was not without a
+thrill of excitement that he set foot on the floor of the cabin, and
+looked at the sleeping faces of Jack Carter and his wife. But there
+was no time to waste. He stepped softly to the door and opened it.
+
+Just then the woman stirred in her sleep, and uttered something
+unintelligible. Ben was alarmed lest she were about to wake up, and
+stood stock-still, with his fingers on the latch. But there was no
+further sound. The woman partially turned over, and soon her quiet,
+regular breathing notified Ben that sleep had resumed its power over
+her. Probably she had stirred in consequence of some uneasy dream.
+
+With a deep breath of relief, Ben opened the door, passed out, and
+closed it softly after him.
+
+He was out of the house, and in the freedom of the woods. Before
+morning he might have put fifteen miles between him and the cabin of
+his foes. He would have felt disposed to do so, and avoid all
+further trouble, if Bradley had been with him, and in condition to
+travel. As this was not to be thought of, he proceeded to search for
+a suitable place to secrete his troublesome treasure.
+
+The cabin stood in a valley, or canon, in the shadow of gigantic
+pine-trees, rising straight as a flagpole to the altitude of nearly
+two hundred feet. They were forest giants, impressive in their lofty
+stature, and Ben regarded them with wonder and awe. They were much
+smaller in every way than the so-called big trees to be found in the
+Calaveras and Mariposa groves; but these had not at that time been
+discovered, and the pines were the largest trees our hero had ever
+encountered.
+
+Ben looked about him in vain to find a suitable hiding-place in the
+immediate neighborhood of the cabin. If there had been a large flat
+rock under which he could have placed the gold pieces, that would
+have suited him; but there was absolutely nothing of the kind in
+sight.
+
+So Ben wandered away, hardly knowing whither his steps were carrying
+him, till he must have been at least a quarter of a mile distant
+from the cabin.
+
+Here his attention was attracted by a tree of larger circumference
+than any he had seen nearer, which showed the ravages of time. The
+bark was partly worn away, and, approaching nearer, Ben saw that it
+had begun to decay from within. There was an aperture about a foot
+above the ground through which he could readily thrust his hand.
+
+"That's the very thing!" exclaimed Ben, his eyes lighting up with
+pleasure. "Nobody would ever think of looking for money there. Here
+I can hide our gold, and to-morrow, when we set out on our journey,
+we can take this tree on our way."
+
+Ben took from his pockets the gold which belonged to Bradley and
+himself, and wrapping them securely in a paper which he happened to
+have with him, he thrust the whole into the cavity in the tree.
+
+"There!" said he, "our treasure is much safer there than it would be
+in our possession, for to-night, at least,"
+
+Ben carefully took the bearings of the tree, that he might not
+forget it. There was little difficulty about this, as it was larger
+than any of its neighbors, not so tall, perhaps, but of greater
+circumference.
+
+"I shall remember it now," he said to himself.
+
+As Ben walked back to the humble cabin he became very drowsy. He was
+quite fatigued with his day's march, and it was now nearly or quite
+two hours since his companion had fallen asleep.
+
+It was fortunate for him that Ben had been more wakeful.
+
+"I shall be glad enough to sleep now," thought Ben. "I don't know
+when I have felt more tired."
+
+He reached the cabin door, and listened outside to learn whether any
+one were stirring. He could still hear the sonorous snore of Jack,
+and could distinguish the deep breathing of his hostess. All seemed
+to be safe.
+
+He softly opened the door, and closed it after him. Without arousing
+any one, he made his way up the ladder to the loft, where Bradley
+lay precisely as he had left him.
+
+Ben threw himself down beside him with a deep sigh of satisfaction,
+and in ten minutes he, too, was sound asleep.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+A THIEF'S DISAPPOINTMENT.
+
+
+
+
+
+Jack Garter, regardless of his plans respecting his guests, slept
+through the night, and it was not till after the sun rose that he
+opened his eyes. His wife was already up and moving about the room.
+
+Jack stretched himself negligently, but all at once his purpose
+flashed upon him.
+
+"Bess, what time is it?" he demanded.
+
+"Past six o'clock, as you can see by the sun."
+
+"Curse it! what made me fall asleep?" ejaculated Jack, with an oath.
+"Now it may be too late."
+
+"How long have you been awake, Bess?" he asked.
+
+"An hour or more."
+
+"Why didn't you wake me up?" demanded Jack sharply.
+
+"I didn't know you wanted me to," answered his wife. "Only yesterday
+you swore at me for waking you up an hour later."
+
+"Yesterday isn't to-day, and I had something to do," said Jack,
+looking significantly upward.
+
+"Didn't you attend to it last night?"
+
+"No; curse my drowsiness! I fell asleep like a natural-born fool
+that I was."
+
+"How could I know that? I was asleep myself."
+
+"You always have some excuse," said Jack, rather unreasonably. "Just
+quit movin' round and makin' a noise. It may not be too late yet."
+
+No sound was heard in the loft above. Happily, the two lodgers might
+still be asleep, so Jack said to himself, and in that case he might
+still be able to carry out his plan. At any rate, there was no time
+to lose, and he began softly to ascend the ladder.
+
+When his head reached the level of the flooring he looked eagerly at
+the rude couch where his guests lay. Both were fast asleep. Bradley
+was still held in the power of the powerful drug which had been
+mingled with his wine, and Ben had yielded to the sound and
+healthful slumber which at his age follows fatigue. His boyish face
+lay on his hand, and he looked innocent and happy. There was a smile
+about his lips, for he was dreaming of his far-away home.
+
+The sight might have appealed to any one less hardened than Jack
+Carter, calling up memories of his own dead boy, and powerfully
+appealing to what heart he had left. But Jack felt simply relieved
+to find that the boy, whose wakefulness he had feared, was sound
+asleep.
+
+"All the better," he muttered. "It isn't too late, after all. Now,
+Jack Carter, is your time. I hope you'll make a good haul."
+
+Treading softly, Jack stepped to the side of Bradley. He thought it
+best to rid him first, for there was no danger of his waking up.
+
+But he was destined to disappointment. The most thorough search
+brought to light only five dollars in gold.
+
+"What has he done with his money?" muttered the thief, with a frown.
+"Of course, he must have more."
+
+The idea came to him that the bulk of the money might have been
+given to the boy, who was less likely to attract the notice of
+plunderers. This was a point easily settled, and Jack turned his
+attention to Ben.
+
+Ben was asleep when the search commenced, but his sleep was not as
+profound as Bradley's, and he woke up. But, luckily, recollection
+came with consciousness, and summoning all his self-command, he
+counterfeited sleep, not interfering with Jack or his designs. He
+was willing to lose the little he had in his pocket, and, besides,
+he was curious to hear what Jack would say when he found out how
+inconsiderable was the booty which he secured.
+
+It must be admitted that Ben found it difficult to restrain himself
+from some movement which would have betrayed to the thief that he
+was awake. Jack, however, being fully convinced that Ben was asleep,
+did not fix his eyes upon the countenance of his young lodger, and
+so remained ignorant of his wakefulness.
+
+The second search proved no more satisfactory than the first. The
+boy was no richer than the man.
+
+In a low voice Jack indulged in an oath indicating his deep disgust.
+
+"I didn't think they were such poor tramps," he said to himself, "or
+I wouldn't have taken all this trouble. Only ten dollars between the
+two of them! Why, they're little more than beggars?"
+
+Stay! They might have concealed their money. There was no place in
+the loft, for it was wholly bare of furniture, but their luggage was
+thrown down carelessly. There were no lodes, and Jack was able to
+extend his search to their knapsacks; but he found nothing that
+repaid him. He was forced finally to the conclusion that they were
+as poor as they seemed.
+
+Had Jack Carter been one of those generous highwaymen, of whom we
+sometimes read, he would have disdained to rob Ben and his friend of
+their little all. But indeed that was not his style.
+
+He coolly pocketed the two gold pieces, which were all he had been
+able to find, and sullenly descended the ladder.
+
+His wife looked at him inquiringly.
+
+"Look at that!" he said grumblingly, as he displayed the two gold
+pieces.
+
+"Was it all you could find?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"They must be poor."
+
+"Poor! They are beggars."
+
+The woman, who was not as hard as she looked, was struck with
+compassion.
+
+"Give it back to them, Jack," she entreated. "It is little enough,
+and they will have need of it."
+
+"So do I have need of it," growled her lord and master.
+
+"No, you don't, Jack. It isn't worth your taking."
+
+"I'm the best judge of that, woman."
+
+"They will suffer. I can't bear to have that boy suffer. He reminds
+me so of our dead son."
+
+"You're a fool!" said her husband roughly.
+
+"And you have no heart!" said his wife bitterly.
+
+"I don't want one if it's going to make a fool of me. Come, hurry up
+the breakfast, for I must be out of the way before they come down.
+They'll miss their money, and I don't want to be asked any
+questions."
+
+"What shall I say if they ask me where it is, Jack?"
+
+"Anything you like," he answered impatiently. "Say the cat did it,
+or anything else. Do you think a woman needs teachin' what she is to
+say?"
+
+"They will think we did it," persisted his wife.
+
+"Let them. They can't prove anything. Just hurry up that breakfast,
+I tell you."
+
+The wife did as she was ordered, and Jack sat down to his breakfast.
+He ate heartily, having a conscience that did not trouble him about
+such trifles as plundering the guests who had slept beneath his
+roof, and rose to leave the house.
+
+"Give 'em some breakfast," he said, as he opened the door; "and tell
+'em you won't take no pay on account of their loss. That'll about
+make things square, I reckon. I've taken my pay in advance."
+
+He shouldered his gun and went out into the woods.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+BEN'S SAVINGS-BANK.
+
+
+
+
+
+It was not till an hour afterward that Ben rose from his lowly
+couch, and, by dint of violent shaking, succeeded in rousing
+Bradley.
+
+"Come, Bradley, wake up!" he cried. "The sun is high, and it is time
+we were on our way."
+
+Bradley stretched himself, took a long breath, and said:
+
+"I must have had a long sleep."
+
+"Yes, you dropped off as soon as you lay down, and have slept ever
+since."
+
+"And did you sleep as soundly?"
+
+"No, I was awake twice during the night," answered Ben.
+
+"I don't know how it is, but I am sleepy still. Seems to me I don't
+stand fatigue as well as you. I am sleepy yet, and feel as if I
+could sleep all the forenoon."
+
+"The effects of the drug," thought Ben.
+
+Ben considered whether he should tell Bradley what had happened
+during the night. He decided briefly to say a few words about it in
+a whisper, and postpone a full explanation till later, for their
+hostess was below, and could hear any loud word that might be
+uttered. Bradley was instructed that he must claim to have lost five
+dollars.
+
+"But I had a hundred," said Bradley, feeling in his pockets.
+
+"It's all right," whispered Ben. "I'll explain by and by. Not a word
+of the loss till after breakfast."
+
+Bradley was quite bewildered, and utterly failed to understand the
+situation. But he had considerable faith in his young companion, and
+was willing to follow Ben's instructions. They descended the ladder,
+Ben in advance.
+
+The woman looked at them sharply, to see if they had yet discovered
+the robbery, but each seemed unconcerned.
+
+"They don't know it yet," she said to herself.
+
+"Madam, can you give us some breakfast?" asked Ben politely.
+
+"I'll give you such as I have," said Mrs. Carter, feeling a little
+remorse for her husband's theft, and pity for what she supposed
+their penniless condition.
+
+"That will be perfectly satisfactory, and we shall be much obliged
+to you."
+
+The breakfast was nearly ready in anticipation of their needs, and
+they partook of it heartily.
+
+Now came the critical moment.
+
+Ben thrust his hand into his pocket, appearing to search for his
+money, and, after a brief space, withdrew it in apparent dismay.
+
+"I can't find my money," he said.
+
+Mrs. Carter's face flushed, but she said nothing. She anticipated
+their suspicion, and was ashamed.
+
+"Bradley," said Ben, "have you your money?"
+
+Jake Bradley repeated the search, and he, too, expressed surprise.
+
+"I had it when I went to bed," he added.
+
+"What is it?" asked the woman slowly, turning to them a troubled
+face. "Have you lost anything?"
+
+"I don't seem to find my money, ma'am," answered Bradley.
+
+"Nor I mine," said Ben. "It's curious."
+
+Mrs. Carter could not tell by their manner whether they suspected
+anything, but she had her story ready. It was an invention, but life
+with Jack Carter had left her few compunctions about such a simple
+matter as telling a lie.
+
+"I missed something myself," she said. "We don't lock our door of
+nights, and I reckon some tramp got in last night, when we were
+asleep, and robbed us all. Have you lost much, you two?"
+
+"Not much, ma'am. There wasn't much to take."
+
+"It's a pity. I am sorry it happened under my roof. But we slept
+very sound last night, Jack and me, and that's the way it must have
+come."
+
+She looked at them critically, to detect, if she could, whether they
+suspected her husband or herself, but both the travelers were on
+their guard.
+
+"Did you have much taken, ma'am?" asked Bradley.
+
+"No," she answered hurriedly, rather ashamed of the imposture. "We
+ain't rich, Jack nor I."
+
+"What I am most sorry for," said Ben, "is that we have nothing to
+pay for our accommodations."
+
+"You're welcome to your lodging and what you've ate," said the woman
+sincerely. "And, if you like, I'll put up some luncheon for you to
+eat by and by."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am, it will be very acceptable," answered Bradley.
+
+"She's better than her husband," thought Ben.
+
+"After all, we haven't lost much, for we shall get nearly the worth
+of our lost money."
+
+The woman remarked, with some surprise, that they did not take their
+loss much to heart.
+
+"How do you expect to get along without money?" she could not help
+asking.
+
+"We're used to roughing it, ma'am," said Bradley. "I'm an old miner,
+and I think I can find some of my old chums before long."
+
+By this time luncheon was ready, and they soon left the cabin.
+
+Bradley could no longer repress his curiosity.
+
+"Now, Ben, tell me all about it," he said. "Where is our money?"
+
+Ben looked back, to make sure that he would not be overheard, and
+answered: "I put it in the bank for security, Jake."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"If I am not very much mistaken, we shall find it hidden in a hole
+in a tree, quarter of a mile away."
+
+"Who put it there?" asked his companion, in surprise.
+
+"I did."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Last night, about midnight, as near as I can guess."
+
+Ben laughed at his companion's evident perplexity, and told him in
+detail the story of the night's adventure.
+
+"Ben, I'm proud of you," said Bradley, slapping our hero on the
+back. "There are not many grown men that would have known what to do
+under the circumstances."
+
+"I confess that I was very much puzzled myself," said Ben modestly.
+"I could have done nothing if our honest host hadn't fallen asleep."
+
+"He would feel rather provoked if he knew that nearly all of our
+money is untouched," said Bradley; "that is, if we find it again."
+
+"There's no fear of that," said Ben. "Do you see that tree yonder?"
+
+"The large one?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That is my savings-bank."
+
+They quickened their steps till they reached the stately monarch of
+the forest. Ben quickly thrust his hand into the cavity and drew out
+the precious parcel which he had committed to it during the night.
+It was precisely as he had placed it there. No one had touched it.
+
+"Now," said Ben, "I will give you ninety-five dollars. That is the
+amount of which I picked your pocket last night."
+
+"You are a pickpocket of the right sort," said his companion. "You
+took my money in order to save it."
+
+Their money recovered, they started on their day's march, and
+nightfall found them twenty miles nearer their destination.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+THE ARRIVAL AT MURPHY'S.
+
+
+
+
+
+One morning about eleven o'clock they came in sight of Murphy's. It
+was only a mining-settlement of the most primitive description. A
+few tents and cabins, with rough, bearded men scattered here and
+there, intent upon working their claims, gave it a picturesque
+appearance, which it has lost now. It was then a more important
+place than at present, however, for the surface diggings are
+exhausted, and it is best known-to-day by its vicinity to the famous
+Calaveras grove of big trees.
+
+"So this is Murphy's?" said Ben, rather disappointed. "It doesn't
+seem to be much of a place."
+
+"You didn't expect to see a regular town, did you?" asked Bradley.
+
+"I don't know. I hardly knew what to expect. It seems a rough
+place."
+
+"And I suppose the people seem rough, too?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"So they are in appearance; but you can't tell what a man has been,
+by his looks here. Why, the man that worked the next claim to me was
+a college graduate, and not far away was another who had been mayor
+of a Western city."
+
+"And were they dressed like these men here?" asked Ben.
+
+"Quite as roughly. It won't do to wear store-clothes at the mines."
+
+"No, I suppose not; but these men look like immigrants just come
+over."
+
+Bradley laughed.
+
+"Wait till we have been at work a little while, and we shall look no
+better," he said, laughing.
+
+"What is that?" asked Ben suddenly, stopping short while an
+expression of horror came over his face.
+
+Bradley followed the direction of his finger, and saw suspended from
+a tree the inanimate body of a man, the features livid and
+distorted, and wearing an expression of terror and dismay, as if his
+fate had come upon him without time for preparation.
+
+"I reckon that's a thief," answered Bradley unconcernedly.
+
+"A thief! Do they hang people for stealing out here?"
+
+"Yes, they have to. You see, my lad, there ain't any laws here, nor
+courts. If a man steals, the miners just take the matter into their
+own hands, and if there ain't a doubt of it, they hang him as soon
+as they catch him."
+
+"It's horrible!" said Ben, who had never before seen the victim of a
+violent death.
+
+"Maybe it is, but what can we do?"
+
+"Put him in prison," suggested Ben.
+
+"There ain't any prisons, and, if there were, there would be nobody
+to keep them."
+
+Just then Bradley was hailed by a rough-looking man, whom at home
+Ben would have taken for a tramp.
+
+"What, Bradley, back again? I didn't expect to see you here?"
+
+"I didn't expect to come, Hunter, but I fooled away my money in
+'Frisco, and have come back for more."
+
+"And who's this boy-your son, or nephew?"
+
+"No; he's no kin to me. I ran across him down to 'Frisco. Ben, let
+me make you acquainted with my old chum, Frank Hunter. He isn't much
+to look at, but-"
+
+"I have seen better days," interrupted Hunter, smiling. "I was
+rather a dandy in my college days at old Yale, though I don't look
+like it now."
+
+Ben regarded him with surprise. He had not dreamed that this
+sun-brown, bearded man, in the roughest of mining-garbs, had ever
+seen the inside of a college.
+
+Hunter smiled at the boy's evident surprise.
+
+"I don't look like a college graduate, do I? But I assure you I am
+not the worst-dressed man in camp. My friend, the mayor, is
+rougher-looking than I. Some time I hope to return to the haunts of
+civilization, and then I will try to conform to habits which I have
+almost forgotten."
+
+"How are you making out, Hunter?" asked Bradley.
+
+"Pretty well. I have made more here in six months than I did by
+three years' practise of law before I came out here."
+
+"Do you like it as well, Mr. Hunter?" Ben could not help asking
+curiously.
+
+"No, I don't; but then, it's only for a time, as I say to myself
+when I get tired of the rough life I am leading. When I've made a
+respectable pile I shall start for 'Frisco, and take passage home,
+put up my shingle again, and wait for clients with money enough to
+pay my board while I'm waiting. A young lawyer needs that always."
+
+"Perhaps you'll be Judge Hunter, in time," said Bradley.
+
+"I've served in that capacity already," said Hunter unexpectedly,
+"and that not longer ago than yesterday. Do you see that poor wretch
+up there?" and he pointed to the suspended body already referred to.
+
+"Yes; what did he do?"
+
+"He was a notorious thief-served a term in the penitentiary East for
+stealing, and came out here to practise his profession. But this
+climate is unhealthy for gentlemen in that line of business."
+
+"Did he rob anybody here?"
+
+"Yes; you remember Johnson?"
+
+"Is he still here?"
+
+"He is about ready to go home, with money enough to lift the
+mortgage from his farm. We all knew it, for Johnson was so happy
+that he took everybody into his confidence. He had all his money
+tied up in a bag which he kept in his tent.
+
+"Imprudent, of course, but we haven't any banks or safes here,"
+added Hunter, meeting the question in Ben's eyes. "Well, this
+rascal, Ross, wormed himself into his confidence, found out exactly
+where the bag was kept, and night before last, in the middle of the
+night, he crept to the tent, and was in the act of carrying off the
+bag, when, as luck would have it, my friend, the mayor, who was
+taking a night walk in the hope of curing a severe headache, came
+upon him.
+
+"Ross showed fight, but was overpowered, and tied securely till
+morning. When morning came we tried him, I being judge. He was found
+guilty, and sentenced to be hung. The sentence was carried into
+effect in the afternoon. He won't steal any more, I reckon."
+
+Ben took another hasty look at the dangling criminal whose end had
+been so sudden and horrible, and he shuddered.
+
+"Why don't you take him down?" he asked.
+
+"It was ordered that he hang for twenty-four hours, as a warning to
+any others in camp who might be tempted to steal. The time isn't up
+yet.
+
+"You are a young gold-hunter," said Hunter, scanning over hero's
+youthful face.
+
+"Yes, I am," Ben confessed; "but I had to earn a living, and I
+thought I could do it better here than at home."
+
+"Are you from the East?"
+
+"I am from Hampton, in New York State."
+
+"I know something of Hampton," said Hunter. "I have never been
+there; but I have a distant relative living there."
+
+"Who is it?" asked Ben, with interest. "I know everybody there."
+
+"I dare say you know my relative, for I am given to understand that
+he is the great man of Hampton."
+
+"Mayor Sturgis?"
+
+"Yes, that is his name. He married a cousin of my mother, so the
+relationship is not very close. He is rich, isn't he?"
+
+"He is the richest man in Hampton."
+
+"I suppose he is aware of that fact," said Hunter, laughing.
+
+"If he isn't, his son, Sam, is," replied Ben. "Sam wanted to engage
+me as his servant before I came away. He wanted me to black his
+boots."
+
+"And you objected, I suppose?"
+
+"I wouldn't work for Sam Sturgis for a hundred dollars a month!"
+said Ben emphatically.
+
+"Then you don't like him?"
+
+"He is very big-feeling," said Ben, using a boy's word, "and likes
+to boss all the rest of the boys. He thinks he is far above us all."
+
+"He ought to come out here. California takes the airs out of a man
+if he has any. We are all on an equality here, and the best man
+wins-I mean the man of the most pluck-for success doesn't depend on
+moral excellence exactly. Well, old friend, are you going to settle
+down among us again?"
+
+It was to Bradley this question was addressed.
+
+"I don't know. I'm here on a little matter of business, along of
+this boy. Is Richard Dewey here now?"
+
+"Dewey? No. He had poor luck, and he dusted a month ago."
+
+Ben and his companion exchanged glances of disappointment.
+
+"Where did he go?" asked Bradley, who was evidently getting
+discouraged.
+
+"He was going to the mountains," he said. "He had been studying up
+something about minerals, and he had an idea that he'd find a rich
+ledge among the Sierras that would pay better than this
+surface-mining."
+
+"Is there anybody that knows what direction he took?"
+
+"My friend, the mayor, knows as well as any man. Dewey was his next
+neighbor, and often talked over his plans with him."
+
+"Then we will go and see the mayor."
+
+"No need of going, here he comes."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+AMONG THE SIERRAS.
+
+
+
+
+
+Ben had heard of mayors, and once he had seen one, a pompous-looking
+man who had once served in that capacity in an inland city of some
+twenty thousand inhabitants, and he supposed that all mayors were
+alike. He could hardly believe his eyes, therefore, when he saw
+before him a man of medium height, dressed in a ragged shirt and
+trousers, and wearing a hat once white, but now dirt-begrimed.
+
+"Friends of yours, judge?" said the newcomer, speaking to Hunter,
+and indicating by a nod Ben and his companion.
+
+"You ought to know one of them, mayor," said Hunter.
+
+"Why, it's Bradley," said the mayor, extending his hand cordially.
+"Glad to see you back again."
+
+Bradley shook hands, and introduced Ben.
+
+"I'm told you can tell me where to find Richard Dewey, colonel," said
+Bradley, employing another title of the mayor.
+
+"I can't just say where he is," said the mayor; "but I can tell you
+where he meant to go."
+
+"That will help us."
+
+"You don't mean him any harm?" asked the mayor quickly.
+
+"Far from it. We have the best news for him."
+
+"Because Dick Dewey is a friend of mine, and I wouldn't bring him
+into trouble for the richest claim in Californy."
+
+"That's where we agree, colonel. The fact is, there's a young lady
+in 'Frisco who has come out on purpose to find him-his sweetheart,
+and an heiress, at that. Me and Ben have agreed to find him for her,
+and that's the long and short of it."
+
+"Then I'm with you, Bradley. I've seen the girl's picture. Dick
+showed it to me one day, and she does credit to his taste. He's had
+bad luck at the mines; but-"
+
+"That won't matter when them two meet," said Bradley. "She's better
+than any claim he can find this side the mountains."
+
+Bradley and our young hero spent the remainder of the day and the
+night at Murphy's, hospitably provided for by the judge and the
+mayor, and Ben listened with avidity to the stories of the miners
+and their varying luck. If he had not been in search of Richard
+Dewey, he would have tarried at Murphy's, selected a claim, and gone
+to work the very next day. He was anxious to have his share in the
+rough but fascinating life which these men were leading. To him it
+seemed like a constant picnic, with the prospect of drawing a golden
+prize any day, provided you attended to business.
+
+"That will come by and by," he thought to himself. "We must find
+Cousin Ida's beau, and then we can attend to business."
+
+Somehow, it seemed more natural to use the first name by which he
+had known the young lady who employed him than the real name which
+he had learned later. It may be necessary to remind the reader that
+her name was Florence Douglas.
+
+The next morning, after breakfast, the two friends left Murphy's,
+and bent their course toward the mountains where they were told that
+Richard Dewey was likely to be found. The direction given them was,
+it must be confessed, not very definite, and the chances seemed very
+much against their succeeding in the object of their search.
+
+A week later we will look in upon them toward nightfall. They were
+among the mountains now.
+
+After the close of a laborious day they had tethered their animals
+to a tree, and were considering a very important subject, namely,
+where to find anything that would serve for supper. Their supply of
+provisions was exhausted, and there was no means of purchasing a
+fresh supply.
+
+Bradley took out his supply of gold, and surveyed it ruefully.
+
+"Ben," said he, "I never knew before how little good there is in
+bein' rich. Here we've both got money, and we can't get anything for
+it. It's cheap traveling for we haven't spent anything sence we've
+left Murphy's."
+
+"I wish we could spend some of our money," said Ben uneasily. "If
+there was only a baker's, or an eating-house here, I'd be willing to
+pay five dollars for a good square meal."
+
+"So would I. Somehow, gold don't look as good to me as it used to.
+We may starve to death with money in our pockets."
+
+Ben's eyes were fixed upon a slender brook not far away that
+threaded its silvery way down a gentle incline from the midst of
+underbrush.
+
+"I wonder if we can't catch some trout," he said. "Don't they have
+trout in these mountains?"
+
+"To be sure they do; and the best in the world," said Bradley
+briskly." The California mountain trout can't be beat."
+
+"But we have no fishing-tackle," suggested Ben.
+
+"Never mind, we have our guns."
+
+"How will that help us?"
+
+"We can shoot them, to be sure."
+
+Ben looked surprised.
+
+"Didn't you ever shoot pickerel? We can shoot trout in the same way.
+Come, Ben, follow me, and we'll see if we can't have a good supper,
+after all."
+
+Leaving their mustangs to gather a supper from the scanty herbage in
+their neighborhood, the two friends made their way to the brook. It
+had seemed very near, but proved to be fully a quarter of a mile
+away. When they reached it they brought their guns into requisition,
+and soon obtained an appetizing mess of trout, which only needed the
+service of fire to make a meal fit for an epicure.
+
+"I can hardly wait to have them cooked," sard Ben. "I'm as hungry as
+a hunter. I understand what that means now."
+
+"I sha'n't have any trouble in keeping up with you, Ben," said his
+companion. "We'll have a supper fit for a king."
+
+They gathered some dry sticks, and soon a fire was blazing, which,
+in the cool night air, sent out a welcome heat.
+
+After supper they lay down on their backs and looked up into the
+darkening sky. Ben felt that it was a strange situation. They were
+in the heart of the Sierras, miles, perhaps many miles, away from
+any human being, thousands of miles away from the quiet village
+where Ben had first seen the light. Yet he did not feel disturbed or
+alarmed. His wanderings had inspired self-reliance, and he did not
+allow himself to be troubled with anxious cares about the future. If
+by a wish he could have been conveyed back to his uncle's house in
+the far East, he would have declined to avail himself of the
+privilege. He had started out to make a living for himself, and he
+was satisfied that if he persevered he would succeed in the end.
+
+"What are you thinking about, Ben?" asked Bradley, after a long
+pause.
+
+"I was thinking how strange it seems to be out here among the
+mountains," answered Ben, still gazing on the scenery around him.
+
+"I don't see anything strange about it," said his less imaginative
+comrade. "Seein' we came here on our horses, it would be strange to
+be anywhere else."
+
+"I mean it is strange to think we are so far away from everybody."
+
+"I don't foller you, Ben. I suppose it's sorter lonelylike, but that
+ain't new to me."
+
+"I never realized how big the world was when I lived at home," said
+Ben, in a slow, thoughtful way.
+
+"Yes, it's a pretty largish place, that's a fact."
+
+"What were you thinking of, Jake?" asked Ben, in his turn.
+
+"I was thinkin' of two things: whereabouts Dewey has managed to hide
+himself, and then it occurred to me how consolin' it would be to me
+if I could light on a pound of smokin'-tobacco. I've got a pipe, but
+it ain't no good without tobacco."
+
+"That don't trouble me much, Jake," said Ben, with a smile.
+
+"It's the next thing to a good supper, Ben," said Bradley; "but I
+might as well wish for the moon."
+
+"You needn't wish in vain for that," said Ben, pointing out the orb
+of evening, with its pale-yellow light peeping over the tall
+tree-tops, and irradiating the scene with its pensive shimmer.
+
+"I can see it, but that don't help me any," said Bradley. "If I saw
+a world made of tobacco up in yonder sky, it would only make me feel
+worse because I couldn't get any."
+
+"What was it you was a-wishin' for, friend?" asked an unfamiliar
+voice.
+
+Bradley sprang to his feet, and Ben followed suit.
+
+They saw two strange figures, clad in Spanish. style, with large,
+napping sombreros on their heads, who unheard, had descended the
+mountains, and were now close upon them.
+
+"Who are you?" asked Bradley doubtfully.
+
+"Friends," was the reassuring reply. "We'll join your little party
+if you have no objection. I'd invite you to take a drink if there
+was any saloon handy. As there isn't, jest help yourself to this,"
+and he drew out a pouch of smoking-tobacco.
+
+"Just what I was wantin'," said Bradley, delighted. "You're welcome,
+whoever you are."
+
+"Ben, can't you get together some sticks and light the fire? It's
+coolish."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+BEATEN AT HIS OWN GAME.
+
+
+
+
+
+Bradley was of a social disposition, and even without the gift of
+tobacco would have been glad of an addition to their small party.
+
+"I'm glad to see you," he said, repeating his welcome. "I wonder I
+didn't hear you comin'. Have you been long in Californy?"
+
+"Well onto a year," said the one who seemed the elder of the two.
+"How is it with you, stranger?"
+
+"I have been here about as long," answered Bradley. "Ben has only
+just come out."
+
+"What luck have you had?" pursued the questioner.
+
+"Good and bad. I made quite a pile, and went to 'Frisco and gambled
+it away like a fool. Now I've come back for another trial."
+
+'"What might your name be?"
+
+"Bradley-Jake Bradley. It isn't much of a name, but it'll do for me.
+The boy is Ben Stanton--come from the East."
+
+"My name is Bill Mosely," said the other. "My friend's Tom Hadley.
+We're both from Missouri, and, though I say it, we're about as
+wide-awake as they make 'em. We don't stand no back talk, Tom and
+me. When a man insults me, I drop him," and the speaker rolled his
+eyes in what was meant to stimulate ferocity.
+
+Bradley eyed him shrewdly, and was not quite so much impressed as
+Mosely intended him to be. He had observed that the greatest
+boasters did not always possess the largest share of courage.
+
+"Isn't that so, Tom?" asked Bill Mosely, appealing to his friend.
+
+"I should say so," answered Tom, nodding emphatically.
+
+"You've seen me in a scrimmage more than once?"
+
+"I should say I have."
+
+"Did you ever see me shoot a man that riled me?"
+
+"Dozens of times," returned Hadley, who appeared to play second
+fiddle to his terrible companion.
+
+"That's the kind of man I am," said Bill Mosely, in a tone of
+complacency.
+
+Still, Bradley did not seem particularly nervous or frightened. He
+was fast making up his mind that Mosely was a cheap bully, whose
+words were more terrible than his deeds. Ben had less experience of
+men, and he regarded the speaker as a reckless desperado, ready to
+use his knife or pistol on the least provocation. He began to think
+he would have preferred solitude to such society. He was rather
+surprised to hear Bradley say quietly:
+
+"Mosely, you're a man after my own heart. That's the kind of man I
+be. If a man don't treat me right, I shoot him in his tracks. One
+day I was drinkin' in a saloon among the foothills, when I saw a man
+winkin' at me. I waited to see if he would do it again. When he did,
+I hauled out my revolver and shot him dead."
+
+"You did?" exclaimed Mosely uneasily.
+
+"Of course I did; but I was rather sorry afterward when I heard that
+his eyelids were weak and he couldn't help it."
+
+"Did you get into any trouble about it, stranger?" asked Mosely,
+with a shade of anxiety.
+
+"No; none of the party dared touch me. Besides, I did the handsome
+thing. I had the man buried, and put a stone over him. I couldn't do
+any more, could I?"
+
+"No," said Mosely dubiously, and he drew a little farther away from
+Bradley.
+
+"What do you find to eat?" he inquired, after a pause. "Tom and I
+are as hungry as if we hadn't eaten anything for a week. You haven't
+got any provisions left over?"
+
+"No; but you can have as good a supper as we had, and we had a good
+one. What do you say to trout, now?"
+
+Bill Mosely smacked his lips.
+
+"Jest show me where I'll find some," he said.
+
+Bradley pointed to the brook from which he had drawn his supply.
+
+"I don't mind helping you," he said. "Ben, are you tired?"
+
+"No, Jake."
+
+"Then come along, and we'll try to get some supper for our friends."
+
+"All right!" said Ben cheerfully.
+
+In a short time a fresh supply of trout was drawn from the brook,
+and they were roughly cooked at the fire, Bradley officiating as
+cook.
+
+"Now, my friends, set up," said he. "I'm sorry I can't give you any
+potatoes, but the barrel's out, and it's too late to get any at the
+store. Likewise, you must excuse the puddin', as it's too late to
+make any."
+
+The two visitors appeared to think no apologies were needful, for
+they made short work with the trout. From the manner in which they
+devoured their supper, it was quite evident that it was some time
+since they had eaten. Ben and Bradley did not join them, having
+already eaten heartily.
+
+"I hope you relished your supper, gentlemen," said Bradley politely.
+
+"I should say we did," responded Tom Hadley.
+
+"I say, them trout beat the world."
+
+"I'll shoot the man that says they don't!" said Bill Mosely,
+relapsing into his old tone.
+
+"So will I!" exclaimed Bradley, springing to his feet and
+brandishing his revolver.
+
+Ben began to see that he was playing a part, and, with assumed
+gravity, he looked to see what effect it would have on their new
+friend.
+
+"I say, stranger, don't handle that weapon of yours so careless,"
+said Mosely uneasily.
+
+"I guess you're right," said Bradley, appearing to calm down. "Once
+I was swingin' my gun kinder careless, and it went off and hit my
+friend, Jim Saunders, in his shoulder. Might have been worse. He had
+a narrer escape. But Jim couldn't complain. I jest took care of him,
+night and day, till he got well. I couldn't do any more'n that, now,
+could I?"
+
+"I reckon he'd rather you hadn't shot him," said Mosely dryly.
+
+"I reckon you're right," said Bradley, with equanimity. "Such little
+accidents will happen sometimes, Mosely. Somehow, you can't always
+help it."
+
+"It's best to be keerful," observed Mosely uneasily.
+
+"I should say so," echoed his friend, Tom Hadley.
+
+"Right you both are!" said Bradley affably. "I say, Mosely, I like
+you. You're jest such a sort of man as I am. You'd jest as lieve
+shoot a man as to eat your dinner; now, wouldn't you?"
+
+"If he'd insulted me," said Mosely hesitatingly.
+
+"Of course. Come, now, how many men have you killed, first and
+last?"
+
+"About twenty, I should think," answered the bully, who seemed to
+grow meeker and more peaceable as Bradley's apparent reckless
+ferocity increased.
+
+"Only twenty!" exclaimed Bradley contemptuously. "Why, that's
+nothing at all!"
+
+"How many have you killed?" asked Mosely uneasily.
+
+"Seventy or eighty, I should say," answered Bradley carelessly. "Of
+course, a man can't keep an account of all these little affairs. I
+did once think I'd keep a list, but I got tired of it after a short
+time, and gave it up after I'd got up to forty-seven."
+
+"Where was you raised, stranger?" asked Mosely.
+
+"In Kentucky-glorious old Kentuck! and if there's a man dares to say
+a word against my State, I'll take his life!" and Bradley sprang to
+his feet.
+
+"Lay down again, stranger," interposed Bill Mosely hastily. "There's
+no one here wants to say a word agin' Kentuck. It's a glorious old
+State, as you say. Isn't it, Tom?"
+
+"I should say so," responded Tom Hadley, using his customary
+formula.
+
+"Are you in search of gold, Mosely?" asked Bradley, in a more quiet
+manner.
+
+"We're kinder prospectin' among the hills," answered Mosely.
+
+"You haven't come across anything yet, have you?"
+
+"Not yet. Have you?"
+
+"We're looking for a friend that's gone ahead. Maybe he's struck it
+rich. When we find him we'll turn in and help him."
+
+"You've got one advantage of us, stranger. You've got hosses, and
+we've had to walk."
+
+"Why didn't you buy animals?"
+
+"We did, but they were stolen from us a little way back."
+
+"If our hosses should be stolen," said Bradley, "the thieves would
+die within a week."
+
+Mosely and his friend looked at each other in silence, and the
+conversation languished.
+
+"Ben," said Bradley, after the two visitors were fast asleep, "shall
+I tell you what I think of these two men?"
+
+"Well, Bradley?"
+
+"They are thieves, and they meant to steal our hosses."
+
+"Won't they do it now?"
+
+Bradley laughed.
+
+"They'll be afraid to," he answered. "I've beaten them at their own
+game, and they think I'm as desperate a bully as they pretend to be.
+No; they won't think it safe to interfere with our property."
+
+"How many men did you say you had killed, Jake?" asked Ben, with a
+smile.
+
+"That was all talk. Thank Heaven, I haven't the blood of any fellow
+creature on my hands!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+THE HORSE-THIEVES.
+
+
+
+
+
+All four slept soundly, but the visitors awoke first.
+
+"Are you awake, Tom?" inquired Mosely.
+
+"I should say so," answered his friend.
+
+Bill Mosely raised himself on his elbow and surveyed Ben and
+Bradley. Their deep, tranquil breathing showed that they were sound
+asleep.
+
+Mosely next glanced at the mustangs which were tethered near-by.
+
+"Tom," said he, "I wish we had them mustangs. It's a deal easier
+ridin' than walkin'."
+
+"I should say so."
+
+"When I struck this party last night I meant to have 'em; but this
+man is such a bloody ruffian that I don't know as it would be safe."
+
+Hadley said nothing. His customary phrase would not apply, and he
+was a man of few words, besides.
+
+"What did he say he would do if a fellow stole his horses, Tom?"
+
+"Said he'd die within a week," answered Had-ley, with unfailing
+memory.
+
+Bill Mosely looked discouraged. He privately thought Bradley was
+just the man to keep his word, and he did not fancy getting into
+difficulty with him.
+
+"That depends on whether he caught him," he said, after a while,
+hopefully.
+
+"I should say so, Bill."
+
+"Now," said Mosely, lowering his voice, "if we could get away while
+they are asleep, there wouldn't be much chance of their knowin'
+where we were."
+
+"That's so, Bill."
+
+"Anyway, if we don't take 'em we may be overtaken by the party that
+we borrowed some gold-dust from."
+
+Tom Hadley responded in his customary manner.
+
+"And that would be mighty bad luck," continued Mosely, with a
+shudder.
+
+"I should say so, Bill."
+
+In fact, Mosely felt that their situation was not likely to be made
+worse by a new theft. Only thirty miles away was a party of miners
+with whom they had worked in company, but without much success,
+till, emboldened by temptation and opportunity, they had stolen a
+bag of gold-dust from a successful comrade, and fled under cover of
+the night.
+
+In the primitive state of society at the mines, stealing was a
+capital offense, and if they were caught their lives would probably
+pay the penalty. Even now some of the injured party might be on
+their track, and this naturally inspired them with uneasiness. Thus
+they were between two fires, and, in spite of the fear with which
+Bradley had inspired them, it looked as if another theft would
+conduce to their safety. If they carried away the mustangs, Bradley
+and Ben, even if they hit on the right trail, would have to pursue
+them on foot, and among the Sierras a man is no match for a mustang
+in speed and endurance.
+
+"I've a great mind to carry off them mustangs," said Mosely
+thoughtfully. "Are you with me?"
+
+"I should say so."
+
+"Why don't you ever say something else, Tom?" demanded Mosely
+impatiently.
+
+"What do you want me to say?" asked Hadley, in surprise.
+
+"Well, never mind; it's your way, I suppose, and I can rely upon
+you."
+
+"I should say so."
+
+Mosely shrugged his shoulders. It was clearly idle to expect any
+great variety in Tom Hadley's conversation.
+
+"Whatever we do must be done quickly," he said, in a quiet, decided
+tone. "They'll wake up before long, and there won't be any chance.
+You, Tom, take that near animal, and I'll tackle the other. Jest
+untie them quiet and easy, and when I say the word start. Do you
+understand?"
+
+"I should say so, Bill," said Hadley, nodding.
+
+"Then here goes."
+
+In a few seconds they had loosened the mustangs and had sprung upon
+their backs.
+
+"Now, go!" exclaimed Mosely, in a energetic whisper.
+
+So on their stolen horses they drew stealthily away from the camp
+till they were perhaps a furlong away, and then, putting the
+mustangs to their speed, they soon put a distance of miles between
+them and their sleeping owners. They would have liked to remain long
+enough to have a trout breakfast, but that was impracticable.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+WHAT NEXT?
+
+
+
+
+
+Some persons are said to have premonitions of coming ill, but this
+could not be said in the present instance of Bradley and his young
+companion. Bradley had the shrewdness to read the real cowardice of
+Mosely, who was the leader, and did not dream that he would have the
+courage to take the horses. But then, he did not know the danger in
+which their two visitors had placed themselves by their recent
+theft. Danger will strengthen the courage of the timid, and, in this
+case, it decided Mosely to commit a new theft.
+
+The robbers were quite five miles away when Ben opened his eyes.
+
+He looked about him with sleepy eyes, and it was only by an effort
+that he remembered the events of the previous evening.
+
+It was with no misgiving that he looked for the horses. When he
+realized that they were gone, his heart gave a great bound, and he
+rose on his elbow. Next he looked for Mosely and Hadley, but, of
+course, in vain.
+
+"They've stolen the mustangs!" he said to himself, in genuine
+dismay, and instantly seizing Bradley by the shoulder, shook him
+energetically.
+
+"What's the matter, Ben?" demanded Bradley, in amazement. "You
+needn't be quite so rough."
+
+"It's time you were awake!" said Ben hurriedly. "Those fellows have
+stolen our mustangs!"
+
+"What's that you say?" ejaculated Bradley, now thoroughly awake.
+
+"The mustangs are gone, and they are gone!" said Ben.
+
+"When did you find it out?"
+
+"Only just now. I was sleepy, and overslept myself."
+
+"Half-past seven o'clock," said Bradley, referring to a cheap silver
+watch which he had bought for a trifle from a miner at Murphy's who
+was hard up. "I'm afraid they must have been gone some time. It's a
+bad lookout for us, Ben."
+
+"So it is, Jake. You thought they wouldn't dare to take anything."
+
+"No more I thought they would. That Bill Mosely bragged so much I
+didn't think he had enough pluck."
+
+"Does it take much pluck to be a thief, Jake?"
+
+"Well, in Californy it does," answered Bradley. "When a man steals a
+boss here, he takes his life in his hand, and don't you forget it.
+If it was only a year in the penitentiary, or something like that,
+it wouldn't scare 'em so bad. That Mosely's a bad lot, and will
+likely die in his boots."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"Be shot standing, or swing from the branch of a tree. I thought I'd
+said enough last night to put him off the notion of playin' us such
+a trick."
+
+"Probably he thought there wouldn't be any chance of our catching
+him when we were reduced to walk."
+
+"It's likely you're right, Ben, and I ought to have thought of that.
+I jest wish I could set eyes on the critter at this particular
+minute. To treat us that way after our kindness, that's what riles
+me."
+
+"What shall we do, Jake?"
+
+"That's to be considered. Blamed if I know, unless we foot it, and
+that will be no joke, over these hills and through these forests."
+
+"We may come upon their track, and overtake them when they are not
+expecting it."
+
+"I wish we might," said Bradley, the lines about his mouth
+tightening. "I'd give 'em a lesson."
+
+"They are two men," said Ben thoughtfully, "and we are only a man
+and a boy."
+
+"That is so, Ben; but I'll match you against Hadley. He don't amount
+to a row of pins; and if I can't tackle Bill Mosely, then I'll never
+show myself in 'Frisco again."
+
+"I don't mind so much the loss of the mustangs," said Ben, "but I'm
+sorry that we shall be delayed in our search for Richard Dewey."
+
+"That's bad, too. I expect that nice young lady in 'Frisco is
+a-waitin' anxiously to hear from him. Plague take that rascal
+Mosely!" he broke out, in fresh exasperation.
+
+"Well, Jake, suppose we get some breakfast, and then consider what
+we will do."
+
+"That's a good thought, Ben. We can't do much on an empty stomach,
+that's a fact."
+
+For reasons which need not be specified, it was decided that the
+breakfast should consist of trout. Despite their loss, both had a
+good appetite, and when that was satisfied they became more hopeful.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+KI SING.
+
+
+
+
+
+Leaving Ben and his companion for a time, we go back to record an
+incident which will prove to have a bearing upon the fortunes of
+those in whom we are interested.
+
+One morning two men, Taylor and O'Reilly, who had been out
+prospecting, came into camp, conveying between them, very much as
+two policemen conduct a prisoner, a terrifled-looking Chinaman,
+whose eyes, rolling helplessly from one to the other, seemed to
+indicate that he considered his position a very perilous one.
+
+At that early period in the settlement of California, a few Chinamen
+had found their way to the Pacific coast; but the full tide of
+immigration did not set in till a considerable time later, and,
+therefore, the miners regarded one as a curiosity.
+
+"Who have you got there, O'Reilly?" inquired one of his
+mining-comrades.
+
+"A yeller haythen!" answered O'Eeilly. "Look at the craythur! Ain't
+he a beauty jist wid his long pigtail hangin' down his back like a
+monkey's tail?"
+
+"Where did you find him?"
+
+"He was huntin' for gold, the haythen, jist for all the world as if
+he was as white as you or I."
+
+Mr. Patrick O'Reilly appeared to hold the opinion that gold-hunting
+should be confined to the Caucasian race. He looked upon a Chinaman
+as rather a superior order of monkey, suitable for exhibition in a
+cage, but not to be regarded as possessing the ordinary rights of an
+adopted American resident. If he could have looked forward
+twenty-five years, and foreseen the extent to which these barbarians
+would throng the avenues of employment, he would, no doubt, have
+been equally amazed and disgusted. Indeed, the capture of Ki Sing
+was made through his influence, as Taylor, a man from Ohio, was
+disposed to let him alone.
+
+Soon a crowd gathered around the terrified Chinaman and his captors,
+and he was plied with questions, some of a jocular character, by the
+miners, who were glad of anything that relieved the monotony of
+their ordinary life.
+
+"What's your name?" asked one.
+
+The Chinaman gazed at the questioner vacantly.
+
+"What's your name, you haythen?" repeated O'Reilly, emphasizing the
+inquiry by a powerful shake.
+
+"My name Ki Sing," answered the Mongolian nervously.
+
+"Where did you come from, old pigtail?"
+
+"My name Ki Sing, not Pigtail," said the Chinaman, not understanding
+the meaning of the epithet.
+
+This answer appeared to be regarded by the crowd as either witty or
+absurd, for it elicited a roar of laughter.
+
+"Never mind what your name is, old stick in the mud! We'll call you
+whatever we please. Where do you come from?"
+
+"Me come from 'Flisco."
+
+It is well known that a Chinaman cannot pronounce the letter r,
+which in his mouth softens to l, in some cases producing a ludicrous
+effect.
+
+"What have you come here for, Cy King, or whatever your name is."
+
+"My name Ki Sing."
+
+"Well, it's a haythen name; anyhow," remarked Mr. Patrick O'Eeilly.
+"Before I'd have such a name, I'd go widout one intirely. Did you
+hear the gintleman ask you what you came here for?"
+
+"You bling me," answered Ki Sing shrewdly.
+
+There was another laugh.
+
+"That Chinee ain't no fool!" said Dick Roberts.
+
+"What made you leave China?" he asked.
+
+"Me come to Amelica fol gold."
+
+"Hi, ho! That's it, is it? What are you going to do with your gold
+when you find it?"
+
+"Cally it back to China."
+
+"And when you've callied it back, what'll you do then?"
+
+"Me mally wife, have good time and plenty money to buy lice."
+
+Of course, Ki Sing's meaning was plain, but there was a roar of
+laughter, to which he listened with mild-eyed wonder, evidently
+thinking that the miners who so looked down on him were themselves a
+set of outside barbarians, to whom the superior civilization of
+China was utterly unknown. It is fortunate that his presumption was
+not suspected by those around him. No one would have resented it
+more than Mr. Patrick O'Reilly, whose rank as regards enlightenment
+and education certainly was not very high.
+
+"I say, John," said Dick Roberts, "are you fond of rat pie?"
+
+"Lat pie velly good," returned Ki Sing, with a look of appreciation.
+"Melican man like him?"
+
+"Hear the haythen!" said O'Reilly, with an expression of deep
+disgust. "He thinks we ate rats and mice, like him. No, old pigtail,
+we ain't cats. We are good Christians."
+
+"Chlistian! Ma don't know Ghlistian," said the Chinaman.
+
+"Then look at O'Reilly," said Dick Roberts, mischievously. "He's a
+good solid Christian."
+
+Ki Sing turned his almond eyes upon O'Reilly, who, with his freckled
+face, wide mouth, broad nose, and stubby beard, was by no means a
+prepossessing-looking man, and said interrogatively: "He Chlistian?"
+
+"Yes, John. Wouldn't you like to be one?"
+
+Ki Sing shook his head decidedly.
+
+"Me no want to be Chlistian," he answered. "Me velly well now. Me
+want to be good Chinaman."
+
+"There's a compliment for you, O'Reilly," said one of the miners.
+"John prefers to be a Chinaman to being like you."
+
+"He's a barbarious haythen, anyhow," said O'Reilly, surveying his
+prisoner with unfriendly eyes. "What did he come over to America
+for, anyhow?"
+
+"He probably came over for the same reason that brought you,
+O'Reilly," said a young man, who spoke for the first time, though he
+had been from the outset a disgusted witness of what had taken
+place.
+
+"And what's that?" demanded O'Reilly angrily.
+
+"To make a living," answered Richard Dewey quietly.
+
+As this is the first time this young man has been introduced, we
+will briefly describe him. He was of medium size, well knit and
+vigorous, with a broad forehead, blue eyes, and an intelligent and
+winning countenance. He might have been suspected of too great
+amiability and gentleness, but for a firm expression about the
+mouth, and an indefinable air of manliness, which indicated that it
+would not do to go too far with him. There was a point, as all his
+friends knew, where his forbearance gave way and he sternly asserted
+his rights. He was not so popular in camp as some, because he
+declined to drink or gamble, and, despite the rough circumstances in
+which he found himself placed, was resolved to preserve his
+self-respect.
+
+O'Reilly did not fancy his interference, and demanded, in a surly
+tone:
+
+"Do you mean to compare me wid this haythen?"
+
+"You are alike in one respect," said Richard Dewey quietly. "Neither
+of you were born in this country, but each of you came here to
+improve your fortunes."
+
+"And hadn't I the right, I'd like to know?" blustered O'Reilly.
+
+"To be sure you had. This country is free to all who wish to make a
+home here."
+
+"Then what are you talkin' about, anyway?"
+
+"You ought to be able to understand without asking. Ki Sing has come
+here, and has the same right that you have."
+
+"Do you mane to put me on a livel wid him?"
+
+"In that one respect, I do."
+
+"I want you to understand that Patrick O'Reilly won't take no
+insults from you, nor any other man!"
+
+"Hush, O'Reilly!" said Terence O'Gorman, another Irish miner. "Dewey
+is perfectly right. I came over from Ireland like you, but he hasn't
+said anything against either of us."
+
+"That is where you are right, O'Gorman," said Richard Dewey
+cordially. "You are a man of sense, and can understand me. My own
+father emigrated from England, and I am not likely to say anything
+against the class to which he belonged. Now, boys, you have had
+enough sport out of the poor Chinaman. I advise you to let him go."
+
+Ki Sing grasped at this suggestion.
+
+"Melican man speak velly good," he said.
+
+"Of course, you think so," sneered O'Reilly. "I say, boys, let's cut
+off his pigtail," touching the poor Chinaman's queue.
+
+Ki Sing uttered a cry of dismay as O'Reilly's suggestion was greeted
+with favorable shouts by the thoughtless crowd.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+THE DUEL OF THE MINERS.
+
+
+
+
+
+O'Reilly's suggestion chimed in with the rough humor of the crowd.
+They were not bad-hearted men, but, though rough in their manners,
+not much worse on the average than an equal number of men in the
+Eastern States. They only thought of the fun to be obtained from the
+proceeding, and supposed they would be doing the Chinaman no real
+harm.
+
+"Has anybody got a pair of scissors?" asked O'Reilly, taking the
+Chinaman by the queue.
+
+"I've got one in my tent," answered one of the miners.
+
+"Go and get it, then."
+
+Ki Sing again uttered a cry of dismay, but it did not seem likely
+that his valued appendage could be saved. Public sentiment was with
+his persecutor.
+
+He had one friend, however, among the rough men who surrounded him,
+the same who had already taken his part.
+
+Richard Dewey's eyes glittered sternly as he saw O'Reilly's
+intention, and he quietly advanced till he was within an arm's
+length of Ki Sing.
+
+"What do you mean to do, O'Reilly?" he demanded sternly.
+
+"None of your business!" retorted O'Reilly insolently.
+
+"It is going to be my business. What do you mean to do?"
+
+"Gut off this haythen's pigtail, and I'd just like to know who's
+going to prevent me."
+
+At this moment the miner who had gone for a pair of scissors
+returned.
+
+"Give me them scissors!" said O'Reilly sharply.
+
+Richard Dewey reached out his hand and intercepted them. He took
+them in place of O'Reilly.
+
+"Give me them scissors, Dewey, or it'll be the worse for you!"
+exclaimed the tyrant furiously.
+
+Dewey regarded him with a look of unmistakable contempt.
+
+There was a murmur among the miners, who were eager for the
+amusement which the Chinaman's terror and ineffectual struggles
+would afford them.
+
+"Give him the scissors, Dewey!" said half a dozen.
+
+"Boys," said Dewey, making no motion to obey them, "do you know what
+you are about to do? Why should you interfere with this poor,
+unoffending Chinaman? Has he wronged any one of you?"
+
+"No, but that ain't the point," said a Kentuckian. "We only want to
+play a joke on him. It won't do him no harm to cut his hair."
+
+"Of course not," chimed in several of the miners.
+
+"Do you hear that, Dick Dewey?" demanded O'Reilly impatiently. "Do
+you hear what the boys say? Give me them scissors."
+
+"Boys, you don't understand the effects of what you would do," said
+Dewey, taking no notice of O'Reilly, much to that worthy's
+indignation. "If Ki Sing has his queue cut off, he can never go back
+to China."
+
+"Is that the law, squire?" asked a loose-jointed Yankee.
+
+"Yes, it is. You may rely on my word. Ki Sing, if you cut off your
+queue, can you go back to China?"
+
+"No go back-stay in Melica allee time."
+
+"You see he confirms my statement."
+
+"That's a queer law, anyway," said the Kentuckian.
+
+"I admit that, but such as it is, we can't alter it. Now, Ki Sing
+has probably a father and mother, perhaps a wife and children, in
+China. He wants to go back to them some time. Shall we prevent this,
+and doom him to perpetual exile, just to secure a little sport?
+Come, boys, you've all of you got dear ones at home, that you hope
+some day to see again. I appeal to you whether this is manly or
+kind."
+
+This was a sort of argument that had a strong effect. It was true
+that each one of these men had relatives for whom they were working,
+the thought of whom enabled them to bear hard work and privations
+thousands of miles away from home, and Richard Dewey's appeal
+touched their hearts.
+
+"That's so! Dewey is right. Let him go, O'Reilly!" said the crowd.
+
+The one man who was not touched by the appeal was O'Reilly himself.
+Not that he was altogether a bad man, but his spirit of opposition
+was kindled, and he could not bear to yield to Dewey, whose contempt
+he understood and resented.
+
+His reply was, "I'm goin' to cut off the haythen's pigtail, whether
+or no. Give me them scissors, I tell you," and he gave a vicious
+twitch to the Chinaman's queue, which made Ki Sing utter a sharp cry
+of pain.
+
+Richard Dewey's forbearance was at an end. His eyes blazed with
+fury, and, clenching his fist, he dashed it full in the face of the
+offending O'Reilly, who not only released his hold on Ki Sing, but
+measured his length on the ground.
+
+O'Reilly was no coward, and he possessed the national love of a
+shindy. He sprang to his feet in a rage, and shouted:
+
+"I'll murder ye for that, Dick Dewey! See if I don't!"
+
+"A fight! a fight!" shouted the miners, willing to be amused in that
+way, since they had voluntarily given up the fun expected from
+cutting off the Chipaman's queue.
+
+Richard Dewey looked rather disgusted.
+
+"I don't want to fight, boys," he said. "It isn't to my taste."
+
+"You've got to, you coward!" said O'Reilly, beginning to bluster.
+
+"I don't think you'll find me a coward," said Dewey quietly, as he
+stood with his arms folded, looking at O'Reilly.
+
+"You'll have to give O'Reilly satisfaction," said one of the miners.
+"You've knocked him down, and he's got a right to it."
+
+"Will it be any satisfaction to him to get knocked over again?" asked
+Dewey, shrugging his shoulders.
+
+"You can't do it! I'll bate you till you can't stand!" exclaimed the
+angry Irishman. "I'll tache you to insult a gintleman."
+
+"Form a ring, boys!" exclaimed the Kentuck-ian. "We'll see there's
+fair play."
+
+"One thing first," said Dewey, holding up his hand. "If I come off
+best in this encounter, you'll all agree to let this Chinaman go
+free? Is that agreed?"
+
+"Yes, yes, it is agreed!"
+
+Ki Sing stood trembling with fear while these preliminaries were
+being settled. He would have escaped from the crowd, but his first
+movement was checked.
+
+"No, Cy King, we can't let you go jest yet," said Taylor. "We're
+goin' to see this thing through first."
+
+O'Reilly was not in the least daunted by the contest in which he was
+to engage. Indeed, he felt a good deal of satisfaction at the
+prospect of being engaged in a scrimmage. Of course, he expected to
+come off a victor. He was a considerably larger man than Richard
+Dewey, with arms like flails and flats like sledge-hammers, and he
+had no sort of doubt that he could settle his smaller antagonist in
+less than five minutes.
+
+But there was one thing of which he was not aware. Though slender,
+Dewey had trained and hardened his muscles by exercise in a
+gymnasium, and, moreover, he had taken a course of lessons in the
+manly art of self-defense. He had done this, not because he expected
+to be called upon to defend himself at any time, but because he
+thought it conducive to keeping up his health and strength. He
+awaited O'Reilly's onset with watchful calmness.
+
+O'Reilly advanced with a whoop, flinging about his powerful arms
+somewhat like a windmill, and prepared to upset his antagonist at
+the first onset.
+
+What was his surprise to find his own blows neatly parried, and to
+meet a tremendous blow from his opponent which set his nose to
+bleeding.
+
+Astonished, but not panic-stricken, he pluckily advanced to a second
+round, and tried to grasp Dewey round the waist. But instead of
+doing this, he received another knock-down blow, which stretched him
+on the ground.
+
+He was up again, and renewed the attack, but with even less chance
+of victory than before, for the blood was streaming down his face,
+and he could not see distinctly where to hit. Dewey contented
+himself with keeping on guard and parrying the blows of his
+demoralized adversary.
+
+"It's no use, O'Reilly!" exclaimed two or three. "Dewey's the better
+man."
+
+"Let me get at him! I'll show him what I can do," said O'Reilly
+doggedly.
+
+"As long as you like, O'Reilly," said Richard Dewey coolly; "but you
+may as well give it up."
+
+"Troth and I won't. I'm stronger than you are any day."
+
+"Perhaps you are; but I understand fighting, and you don't."
+
+"An O'Reilly not know how to fight!" exclaimed the Irishman hotly.
+"I could fight when I was six years old."
+
+"Perhaps so; but you can't box."
+
+One or two more attacks, and O'Reilly was dragged away by two of his
+friends, and Dewey remained master of the field.
+
+The miners came up and shook hands with him cordially. They regarded
+him with new respect, now that it was found he had overpowered the
+powerful O'Reilly.
+
+Among those who congratulated him was his Mongolian friend, Ki Sing.
+
+"Melican man good fightee-knock over Ilishman. Hullah!"
+
+"Come with me, Ki Sing," said Dewey. '"I will take care of you till
+to-morrow, and then you had better go."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+CHINESE CHEAP LABOR.
+
+
+
+
+
+Though Dewey had received from the miners a promise that they would
+not interfere with Ki Sing in case he gained a victory over
+O'Reilly, he was not willing to trust entirely to it. He feared that
+some one would take it into his head to play a trick on the
+unoffending Chinaman, and that the others unthinkingly would join
+in. Accordingly, he thought it best to keep the Mongolian under his
+personal charge as long as he remained in camp.
+
+Ki Sing followed him to his tent as a child follows a guardian.
+
+"Are you hungry, Ki Sing?" asked Dewey.
+
+"Plenty hungly."
+
+"Then I will first satisfy your appetite," and Dewey brought forth
+some of his stock of provisions, to which Ki Sing did ample justice,
+though neither rat pie nor rice was included.
+
+When the lunch, in which Richard Dewey joined, was over, he said:
+"If you will help me for the rest of the day, I will pay you
+whatever I consider your services to be worth."
+
+"All lightee!" responded Ki Sing, with alacrity.
+
+Whatever objections may be made to the Chinaman, he cannot be
+charged with laziness. As a class they are willing to labor
+faithfully, even where the compensation is small. Labor in China,
+which is densely peopled, is a matter of general and imperative
+necessity, and has been so for centuries, and habit has probably had
+a good deal to do with the national spirit of industry.
+
+Ki Sing, under Richard Dewey's directions, worked hard, and richly
+earned the two dollars which his employer gave him at the end of the
+day.
+
+Of course Dewey's action did not escape the attention of his fellow
+miners. It cannot be said that they regarded it with favor. The one
+most offended was naturally O'Reilly, who, despite the pounding he
+had received, was about the camp as usual.
+
+"Boys," he said, "are you goin' to have that haythen workin'
+alongside you?"
+
+"It won't do us any harm, will it?" asked Dick Roberts. "If Dewey
+chooses to hire him, what is it to us?"
+
+"I ain't goin' to demane myself by workin' wid a yeller haythen."
+
+"Nobody has asked you to do it. If anybody is demeaning himself it
+is Dick Dewey, and he has a right to if he wants to."
+
+"If he wants to hire anybody, let him hire a dacent Christian."
+
+"Like you, O'Reilly?"
+
+"I don't want to work for anybody. I work for myself. This Chinaman
+has come here to take the bread out of our mouths, bad cess to him."
+
+"I don't see that. He is workin' Dick Dewey's claim. I don't see how
+that interferes with us."
+
+Of course, this was the reasonable view of the matter; but there
+were some who sided with the Irishman, among others the Kentuckian,
+and he volunteered to go as a committee of one to Dewey, and
+represent to him the sentiments of the camp.
+
+Accordingly he walked over to where Dewey and his apprentice were
+working.
+
+"Look here, Dewey," he began, "me and some of the rest of the boys
+have takin' over this yere matter of your givin' work to this
+Chinaman, and we don't like it."
+
+"Why not?" asked Dewey coolly.
+
+"We don't feel no call to associate with sich as he."
+
+"You needn't; I don't ask you to," said Dewey quietly. "I am the
+only one who associates with him."
+
+"But we don't want him in camp."
+
+"He won't trouble any of you. I will take charge of him."
+
+"Look here, Dewey, you've got to respect public sentiment, and
+public sentiment is agin' this thing."
+
+"Whose public sentiment--O'Reilly's?"
+
+"Well, O'Reilly don't like it, for one."
+
+"I thought so."
+
+"Nor I for another."
+
+"It strikes me, Hodgson, that I've got some rights as well as
+O'Reilly. Suppose I should say I didn't choose to work in the same
+camp with an Irishman?"
+
+"That's different."
+
+"Why is it different?"
+
+"Well, you see, an Irishman isn't a yeller heathen."
+
+Dewey laughed.
+
+"He may be a heathen, though not a yellow one," he said.
+
+"Well, Dewey, what answer shall I take back to the boys?"
+
+"You can say that I never intended to employ the Chinaman for any
+length of time; but I shall not send him off till I get ready."
+
+"I'm afraid the boys won't like it, Dewey."
+
+"Probably O'Reilly won't. As for you, you are too intelligent a man
+to be influenced by such a man as he."
+
+All men are sensible to flattery, and Hodgson was won over by this
+politic speech.
+
+"I won't say you're altogether wrong, Dewey," he said; "but I
+wouldn't keep him too long."
+
+"I don't mean to."
+
+Hodgson returning reported that Dewey would soon dismiss the
+Chinaman, and omitted the independent tone which the latter had
+assumed. The message was considered conciliatory, and pronounced
+satisfactory; but O'Reilly was not appeased. He still murmured, but
+his words produced little effect. Seeing this, he devised a private
+scheme of annoyance.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+A MIDNIGHT VISIT.
+
+
+
+
+
+This conversation set Dewey to thinking. Though he was independent,
+he was not foolishly so, and he was not willing, out of a spirit of
+opposition, to expose his new acquaintance to annoyance, perhaps to
+injury. He did not care to retain Ki Sing in his employment for any
+length of time, and made up his mind to dismiss him early the next
+mornng, say, at four o'clock, before the miners had thrown off the
+chains of sleep.
+
+He did not anticipate any harm to his Mongolian friend during the
+night; but this was because he did not fully understand the feeling
+of outraged dignity which rankled in the soul of O'Reilly.
+
+Patrick O'Reilly was like his countrymen in being always ready for a
+fight; but he was unlike them in harboring a sullen love of revenge.
+In this respect he was more like an Indian.
+
+He felt that Richard Dewey had got the better of him in the brief
+contest, and the fact that he had been worsted in the presence of
+his fellow miners humiliated him. If he could only carry his point,
+and deprive the Chinaman of his queue after all, the disgrace would
+be redeemed, and O'Reilly would be himself again.
+
+"And why shouldn't I?" he said to himself. "The haythen will sleep
+in Dewey's tent. Why can't I creep up, unbeknownst, in the middle of
+the night, and cut off his pigtail, while he is aslape? Faith, I'd
+like to see how he and his friend would look in the morning. I don't
+belave a word of his not bein' allowed to go back to Chiny widout
+it. That is an invintion of Dewey,"
+
+The more O'Reilly dwelt upon this idea the more it pleased him. Once
+the pigtail was cut off, the mischief could not be repaired, and he
+would have a most suitable and satisfactory revenge.
+
+Of course, it would not do to make the attempt till Ki Sing and his
+protector were both fast asleep. "All men are children when they are
+asleep," says an old proverb. That is, all men are as helpless as
+children when their senses are locked in slumber. It would be safer,
+therefore, to carry out his plan if he could manage to do so without
+awaking the two men.
+
+O'Reilly determined not to take any one into his confidence. This
+was prudent, for it was sure to prevent his plan from becoming
+known. There was, however, one inconvenience about this, as it would
+prevent him from borrowing the scissors upon which he had relied to
+cut off the queue. But he had a sharp knife, which he thought would
+answer the purpose equally well.
+
+It was rather hard for O'Reilly to keep awake till midnight-the
+earliest hour which he thought prudent-but the motive which impelled
+him was sufficiently strong to induce even this sacrifice.
+
+So, as the shadows darkened, and the night came on, Patrick O'Reilly
+forced himself to lie awake, while he waited eagerly for the hour of
+midnight. Meanwhile, Richard Dewey and Ki Sing lay down at nine
+o'clock and sought refreshment in sleep. Both were fatigued, but it
+was the Chinaman who first lost consciousness. Dewey scanned with
+curiosity the bland face of his guest, looking childlike and
+peaceful, as he lay by his side.
+
+"I wonder if he is dreaming of his distant home in China," thought
+Dewey. "The cares of life do not seem to sit heavy upon him. Though
+he has been in danger to-day, and may be so still, he yields himself
+up trustfully to the repose which he needs. Is it true, I wonder,
+that cares increase with mental culture? Doubtless, it is true. If I
+were in China, threatened with a loss which would prevent my
+returning to my native country, I am sure it would keep me awake.
+But there can be nothing to fear now."
+
+Richard raised himself on his elbow, and looked about him. The tents
+of the miners were grouped together, within a comparatively small
+radius, and on all sides could be heard-it was now past ten-the deep
+breathing of men exhausted by the day's toils. This would not
+ordinarily have been the case at so early an hour, for when there
+was whisky in the camp, there was often late carousing. It chanced,
+however, at this time that the stock of liquor was exhausted, and,
+until a new supply could be obtained from San Francisco, necessity
+enforced the rule of total abstinence. It would have been well if,
+for months to come, there could have been the same good reason for
+abstinence, but, as a matter of fact, the very next day some casks
+were brought into camp, much to the delighted and satisfaction of
+the anti-temperance party.
+
+Finally Dewey fell asleep, but his sleep was a troubled one. He had
+unthinkingly reclined upon his back, and this generally brought bad
+dreams. He woke with a start from a dream, in which it seemed to him
+that the miners were about to hang Ki Sing from the branch of one of
+the tall trees near-by, when he detected a stealthy step close at
+hand.
+
+Instantly he was on the alert. Turning his head, he caught sight of
+a human figure nearing the tent. A second glance showed him that it
+was O'Reilly, with a knife in his hand.
+
+"Good heavens!" thought Dewey, "does he mean to kill the poor
+Chinaman?"
+
+A muttered sentence from O'Reilly reassured him on this point.
+
+"Now, you yeller haythen, I'll cut off your pigtail in spite of that
+impertinent friend of yours--Dick Dewey. I'll show you that an
+O'Reilly isn't to be interfered wid."
+
+"So he wants the poor fellow's queue, does he?" said Dewey to
+himself. "You're not quite smart enough, Mr. O'Reilly."
+
+There was no time to lose.
+
+O'Reilly was already on his knees, with the poor Chinaman's
+treasured queue in his hand, when he felt himself seized in a
+powerful grip.
+
+"What are you about, O'Reilly?" demanded Richard Dewey, in a deep,
+stern voice.
+
+O'Reilly uttered a cry, rather of surprise than alarm.
+
+"What are you about?" repeated Richard Dewey, in a tone of
+authority.
+
+"I'm goin' to cut off the haythen's pigtail," answered the Irishman
+doggedly.
+
+"What for?"
+
+"I've said I'd do it, and I'll do it."
+
+"Well, Mr. O'Reilly, I've said you sha'n't do it, and I mean to keep
+my word."
+
+O'Reilly tried to carry out his intent, but suddenly found himself
+flung backward in a position very favorable for studying the
+position of the stars.
+
+"Are you not ashamed to creep up to my tent in the middle of the
+night on such an errand as that, Patrick O'Reilly?" demanded Dewey.
+
+"No, I'm not. Let me up, Dick Dewey, or it'll be the worse for you,"
+said the intruder wrathfully.
+
+"Give me your knife, then."
+
+"I won't. It's my own."
+
+"The errand on which you come is my warrant for demanding it."
+
+"I won't give you the knife, but I'll go back," said O'Reilly.
+
+"That won't do."
+
+"Don't you go too far, Dick Dewey. I'm your aiqual."
+
+"No man is my equal who creeps to my tent at the dead of night. Do
+you know what the camp will think, O'Eeilly?"
+
+"And what will they think?"
+
+"That you came to rob me."
+
+"Then they'll think a lie!" said O'Reilly, startled, for he knew
+that on such a charge he would be liable to be suspended to the
+nearest tree.
+
+"If they chose to think so, it would be bad for you."
+
+"You know it isn't so Dick Dewey," said O'Reilly.
+
+"I consider your intention quite as bad. You wanted to prevent this
+poor Chinaman from ever returning to his native land, though he had
+never injured you in any way. You can't deny it."
+
+"I don't belave a word of all that rigmarole, Dick Dewey."
+
+"It makes little difference whether you believe it or not. You have
+shown a disposition to injure and annoy Ki Sing, but I have foiled
+you. And now," here Dewey's tone became deep and stern, "give me that
+knife directly, and go back to your tent, or I'll rouse the camp,
+and they may form their own conclusions as to what brought you
+here."
+
+O'Reilly felt that Dewey was in earnest, and that he must yield. He
+did so with a bad grace enough and slunk back to his tent, which he
+did not leave till morning.
+
+Early in the morning, Richard Dewey awakened Ki Sing.
+
+"You had better not stay here, Ki Sing," he said. "There are those
+who would do you mischief. Go into the mountains, and you may find
+gold. There you will be safe."
+
+"Melican man velly good-me go," said the Chinaman submissively.
+
+"Good luck to you, Ki Sing!"
+
+"Good luckee, Melican man!"
+
+So the two parted, and when morning came to the camp, nothing was to
+be seen of the Chinaman.
+
+Dewey returned O'Reilly's knife, the latter receiving it in sullen
+silence.
+
+It was not long afterward that Richard Dewey himself left Murphy's
+in search of a richer claim.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+ON THE MOUNTAIN PATH.
+
+
+
+
+
+My readers will not have forgotten Bill Mosely and his companion Tom
+Hadley, who played the mean trick upon Bradley and our hero of
+stealing their horses. I should be glad to state that they were
+overtaken and punished within twenty-four hours, but it would not be
+correct. They had a great advantage over their pursuers, who had
+only their own feet to help them on, and, at the end of the first
+day, were at least ten miles farther on than Ben and Bradley.
+
+As the two last, wearied and well-nigh exhausted, sat down to rest,
+Bradley glanced about him long and carefully in all directions.
+
+"I can't see anything of them skunks, Ben," he said.
+
+"I suppose not, Jake. They must be a good deal farther on."
+
+"Yes, I reckon so. They've got the horses to help them, while we've
+got to foot it. It was an awful mean trick they played on us."
+
+"That's so, Jake."
+
+"All I ask is to come up with 'em some of these days."
+
+"What would you do?"
+
+"I wouldn't take their lives, for I ain't no murderer, but I'd tie
+'em hand and foot, and give 'em a taste of a horsewhip, or a switch,
+till they'd think they was schoolboys again."
+
+"You might not be able to do it. They would be two to one."
+
+"Not quite, Ben. I'd look for some help from you."
+
+"I would give you all the help I could," said Ben.
+
+"I know you mean it, and that you wouldn't get scared, and desert
+me, as a cousin of mine did once when I was set upon by robbers."
+
+"Was that in California?"
+
+"No; in Kentucky. I had a tough job, but I managed to disable one of
+the rascals, and the other ran away."
+
+"What did your cousin have to say?"
+
+"He told me, when I caught up with him, that he was goin' in search
+of help, but I told him that was too thin. I told him I wouldn't
+keep his company any longer, and that he had better go his way and I
+would go mine. He tried to explain things, but there are some things
+that ain't so easily explained, that I wouldn't hear him. I stick to
+my friends, and I expect them to stand by me."
+
+"That's fair, Jake."
+
+"That's the way I look at it. I wonder where them rascals are?"
+
+"You mean Mosely and his friend?"
+
+"Yes. What galls me, Ben, is that they're likely laughin' in their
+shoes at the way they've tricked us, and there's no help for it."
+
+"Not just now, Jake, but we may overtake them yet. Till we do, we
+may as well take things as easy as we can."
+
+"You're right, Ben. You'mind me of an old man that used to live in
+the place where I was raised. He never borrered any trouble, but
+when things was contrary, he waited for 'em to take a turn. When he
+saw a neighbor frettin', he used to say, 'Fret not thy gizzard, for
+it won't do no good.'"
+
+Ben laughed.
+
+"That was good advice," he said.
+
+"I don't know where he got them words from. Maybe they're in the
+Bible."
+
+"I guess not," said Ben, smiling. "They don't sound like it."
+
+"Perhaps you're right," said Bradley, not fully convinced, however.
+"Seems to me I've heard old Parson Brown get off something to that
+effect."
+
+"Perhaps it was this-'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'"
+
+"Perhaps it was. Is that from the Bible?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It might have been made a little stronger," said Bradley
+thoughtfully. "The evil of some days is more than sufficient,
+accordin' to my notion."
+
+The two explorers camped out as usual, and the fatigue of their
+day's tramp insured them a deep, refreshing sleep. The next day they
+resumed their journey, and for several days to come no incident
+worthy of mention varied the monotony of their march. Toward the
+close of the fourth day they saw from a distance a figure
+approaching them, who seemed desirous of attracting their attention.
+Ben was the first to see him.
+
+"Jake," said he, "look yonder!"
+
+"It's a Chinee!" said Bradley, in surprise.
+
+"How did the critter come here, in the name of wonder?"
+
+"I suppose he is looking for gold as well as we."
+
+"The heathen seems to be signalin' us. He's wavin' his arm."
+
+This was the case. The Chinaman, for some reason, seemed to wish to
+attract the attention of the newcomers. He stopped short, and waited
+for Ben and Bradley to come up.
+
+"Who are you, my yeller friend?" asked Bradley, when he was near
+enough to be heard.
+
+"My name Ki Sing."
+
+"Glad to hear it. I can't say I ever heard of your family, but I
+reckon from the name, it's a musical one."
+
+Ki Sing probably did not understand the tenor of Bradley's remark.
+
+"Is there any hotel round here, Mr. Sing?" asked Ben jocosely,
+"where two weary travelers can put up for the night?"
+
+"Nohotellee!"
+
+"Then where do you sleep?"
+
+"Me sleep on glound."
+
+"Your bed is a pretty large one, then," said Bradley. "The great
+objection to it is, that it is rather hard."
+
+Ki Sing's mind was evidently occupied by some engrossing thought,
+which prevented his paying much attention to Bradley's jocose
+observations.
+
+"Melican man wantee you," he said, in an excited manner.
+
+"What's that?" asked Bradley. "Melican man want me?"
+
+Ki Sing nodded.
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+Ki Sing turned, and pointed to a rude hut some half a mile away in a
+little mountain nook.
+
+"Melican man thele," he said.
+
+"Come along, Ben," said Bradley. "Let us see what this means. It may
+be some countryman of ours who is in need of help."
+
+The Chinaman trotted along in advance, and our two friends followed
+him.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+THE MOUNTAIN CABIN.
+
+
+
+
+
+At length they reached the entrance to the cabin. It was a rough
+structure, built of logs, containing but one apartment. On a blanket
+in one corner of the hut lay a young man, looking pale and
+emaciated. His face was turned to the wall, so that, though he heard
+steps, he did not see who crossed the threshold.
+
+"Is that you, Ki Sing?" he asked, in a low voice. "But why need I
+ask? There is not likely to be any one else in this lonely spot."
+
+"That's where you're mistaken, my friend," said Bradley. "I met that
+Chinaman of yours half a mile away, and he brought me here. You're
+sick, I reckon?"
+
+The invalid started in surprise and evident joy when he heard
+Bradley's voice.
+
+"Thank Heaven!" he said, "for the sound of a countryman's voice,"
+and he turned to look at his visitor.
+
+Now it was Bradley's turn to start and manifest surprise.
+
+"Why, it's Dick Dewey!" he exclaimed.
+
+"You know me?" said the sick man eagerly.
+
+"Of course I do. Didn't we work together at Murphy's, almost side by
+side?"
+
+"Jake Bradley!" exclaimed Dewey, recognizing him at last.
+
+"The same old coon! Now, Dewey, what's the matter with you?"
+
+"Nothing serious, but enough to lay me up for a time. A week since I
+slipped from a rock and sprained my ankle severely-so much so that I
+can't use it safely. I've often heard that a sprain is worse than a
+break, but I never realized it till now."
+
+"Has the Chinaman taken care of you?" inquired Bradley.
+
+"Yes; I don't know what I should have done without Ki Sing," said
+Dewey, with a grateful glance at the Chinaman.
+
+"Was he with you when the accident hapened?"
+
+"No; I lay helpless on the hillside for two hours, when,
+providentially, as I shall always consider it, my friend Ki Sing
+came along."
+
+The Chinaman usually impassive face seemed to light up with pleasure
+when Richard Dewey spoke of him as his friend.
+
+"I tell you what, Ki Sing," said Bradley, turning to the
+representative of China, "I never thought much of your people
+before, but I cheerfully admit that you're a brick."
+
+"A blick!" repeated the Mongolian, appearing more puzzled than
+complimented.
+
+"Yes, a brick-a real good fellow, and no mistake! Give us your hand!
+You're a gentleman!"
+
+Ki Sing readily yielded his hand to the grasp of the miner. He saw
+that Bradley meant to be friendly, though he did not altogether
+understand him.
+
+"Had you ever met Ki Sing, Dick?" asked Bradley.
+
+"Yes; on one occasion I had a chance to be of service to him, and he
+had not forgotten it. He has taken the best care of me, and supplied
+me with food, which I was unable to procure for myself. I think I
+should have starved but for him."
+
+"Ki Sing, I want to shake hands with you again," said Bradley, who
+seemed a good deal impressed by conduct which his prejudices would
+not have allowed him to expect from a heathen.
+
+Ki Sing winced beneath the strong pressure of the miner's grasp, and
+examined his long, slender fingers with some anxiety when he rescued
+them from the cordial, but rather uncomfortable pressure.
+
+"Melican man shakee too much!" he protested.
+
+Bradley did not hear him, for he had again resumed conversation with
+Dewey.
+
+"Is that your boy, Bradley?" asked the invalid, glaring at Ben, who
+modestly kept in the background.
+
+"No, it's a young friend of mine that I came across in 'Frisco. His
+name is Ben Stanton. I don't believe you can guess what brought us
+up here among the mountains."
+
+"Probably you came, like me, in search of gold."
+
+"That's where you're wrong. Leastways, that wasn't the principal
+object of our coming."
+
+"You're not traveling for pleasure, I should think," said Dewey,
+smiling.
+
+"Not much. Since our hosses have been stole, there's mighty little
+pleasure in clamberin' round on these hills. The fact is, we've been
+lookin' for you."
+
+"Looking for me!" exclaimed Dewey, in great surprise.
+
+"Yes, and no mistake. Isn't it so, Ben?"
+
+Ben nodded assent.
+
+"But what possible motive can you have in looking for me?"
+
+"I say, Dewey," proceeded Bradley, "did you ever hear of a young
+lady by the name of Florence Douglas?"
+
+The effect of the name was electric. Dewey sprang up in bed, and
+inquired eagerly.
+
+"Yes, yes, but what of her? Can you tell me anything of her?"
+
+"I can tell you as much as this: she is in 'Frisco, and has sent out
+Ben and me to hunt you up, and let you know where she is."
+
+"Is this true? How came she here? Is her guardian with her?" asked
+Dewey rapidly.
+
+"One question at a time, Dick. The fact is, she's given her guardian
+the slip, and came out to Californy in charge of my young friend,
+Ben. I hope you won't be jealous of him."
+
+"If she trusts him, I will also," said Dewey. "Tell me the whole
+story, my lad. If you have been her friend, you may depend on my
+gratitude."
+
+Ben told the story clearly and intelligibly, replying also to such
+questions as Richard Dewey was impelled to ask him, and his
+straightforwardness produced a very favorable impression on his new
+acquaintance.
+
+"I begin to see, that, young as you are, Florence didn't make a bad
+selection when she chose you as her escort."
+
+"Now, Dewey," said Bradley, "I've got some advice to give you. Get
+well as soon as you can, and go to 'Frisco yourself. I surmise Miss
+Douglas won't need Ben any longer when you are with her."
+
+"You forget this confounded sprain," said Dewey, looking ruefully at
+his ankle. "If I go you'll have to carry me."
+
+"Then get well as soon as you can. We'll stay with you till you're
+ready. If there was only a claim round here that Ben and I could
+work while we are waitin', it would make the time pass pleasanter."
+
+"There is," said Dewey. "A month since I made a very valuable
+discovery, and had got out nearly a thousand dollars' worth of gold,
+when I was taken down. You two are welcome to work it, for as soon
+as I am in condition, I shall go back to San Francisco."
+
+"We'll give you a share of what we find, Dick."
+
+"No, you won't. The news you have brought me is worth the claim many
+times over. I shall give Ki Sing half of what I have in the cabin
+here as a recompense for his faithful service."
+
+Ki Sing looked well content, as he heard this promise, and his smile
+became even more "childlike and bland" than usual, as he bustled
+about to prepare the evening meal.
+
+"I'll tell you what, Ben," said Bradley, "we'll pay Ki Sing
+something besides, and he shall be our cook and steward, and see
+that we have three square meals a day."
+
+"I agree to that," said Ben.
+
+When Ki Sing was made to comprehend the proposal, he, too, agreed,
+and the little household was organized. The next day Ben and Bradley
+went to work at Dewey's claim, which they found unexpectedly rich,
+while the Chinaman undertook the duties assigned him. Four weeks
+elapsed before Richard Dewey was in a condition to leave the cabin
+for San Francisco. Then he and Ben returned, Ki Sing accompanying
+them as a servant, while Bradley remained behind to guard Dewey's
+claim and work it during Ben's absence.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
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