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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5623-h.zip b/5623-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ceea9ec --- /dev/null +++ b/5623-h.zip diff --git a/5623-h/5623-h.htm b/5623-h/5623-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..13bc64b --- /dev/null +++ b/5623-h/5623-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9184 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" name="linkgenerator" /> + <title> + The Young Explorer, by Horatio Alger, Jr. + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} + .x-small {font-size: 75%;} + .small {font-size: 85%;} + .large {font-size: 115%;} + .x-large {font-size: 130%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent25 { margin-left: 25%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + .indent35 { margin-left: 35%;} + .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; + font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; + text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; + border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Young Explorer, by Horatio Alger + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Young Explorer + or, Claiming His Fortune + +Author: Horatio Alger + + +Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5623] +First Posted: July 24, 2002 +Last Updated: January 8, 2019 + + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG EXPLORER *** + + + + +Etext produced by Charles Aldarondo + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE YOUNG EXPLORER + </h1> + <h3> + OR + </h3> + <h3> + CLAIMING HIS FORTUNE + </h3> + <h2> + By Horatio Alger, Jr. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>THE YOUNG EXPLORER</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. — BEN'S INHERITANCE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. — DEACON PITKIN'S OFFER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. — SAM STURGIS' NEW IDEA. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. — A BRILLIANT CHANCE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. — IN SEARCH OF A PLACE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. — MR. PITCH, THE SENIOR + PARTNER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. — BEN'S DINNER-GUEST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. — A STRANGE ACQUAINTANCE. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. — AT THE ASTOR HOUSE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. — BEN RECEIVES A CALL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. — MISS SINCLAIR'S STRATAGEM. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. — IN SAN FRANCISCO. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. — PRELIMINARY ARRANGEMENTS. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XI. — THE CANON HOTEL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. — A POLITE HOSTESS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. — A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. — A TIGHT PLACE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. — AN EVENING CALL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. — BEN'S MIDNIGHT EXCURSION. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. — A THIEF'S DISAPPOINTMENT. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. — BEN'S SAVINGS-BANK. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. — THE ARRIVAL AT MURPHY'S. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. — AMONG THE SIERRAS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. — BEATEN AT HIS OWN GAME. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. — THE HORSE-THIEVES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. — WHAT NEXT? </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. — KI SING. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. — THE DUEL OF THE MINERS. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. — CHINESE CHEAP LABOR. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. — A MIDNIGHT VISIT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. — ON THE MOUNTAIN PATH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. — THE MOUNTAIN CABIN. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE YOUNG EXPLORER + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. — BEN'S INHERITANCE. + </h2> + <p> + "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—" + </p> + <p> + "How much does it all come to, Uncle Job?" interrupted Ben, who was + impatient of details. + </p> + <p> + "Hadn't you better let me read off the items, nephew?" asked Job, looking + over his spectacles. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "You're rich; that is, for a boy," added Uncle Job. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Why should I take any of your money, nephew?" + </p> + <p> + "You've had considerable trouble in settling up the estate, and it's taken + a good deal of your time, too." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "But you said yourself it was a good deal of money for a boy, Uncle Job." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Yes I am alone in the world," said Ben sadly, his cheerful face clouding + over. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I know it, Uncle Job. You've always been kind to me." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What is it, Uncle Job?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I'm very much obliged to you, Uncle Job," said Ben slowly. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I'm much obliged to you, Uncle Job, as I said before, but there's one + thing in the way." + </p> + <p> + "What's that, Ben?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't like shoemaking." + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps it isn't genteel enough for you, Ben," said his uncle. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "So I was, Ben," said Job. "I'm willin' to own that's a great drawback." + </p> + <p> + "And it isn't likely to be any better hereafter. Last year was as good as + the average." + </p> + <p> + "It was better," Job admitted. "The year before I was out of work five + months." + </p> + <p> + "Well, Uncle Job, I want to work at something that'll give me employment + all the year round." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I suppose he would," said Ben, laughing. "Would you advise me to go + there?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, there might be some objections, but-" + </p> + <p> + "You know I wouldn't get enough to eat, Uncle Job," interrupted Ben. "Why, + Deacon Pitkin's the meanest man in the village." + </p> + <p> + "You mustn't be hasty in your judgments, nephew." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What did you say?" asked Uncle Job, evidently amused. + </p> + <p> + "I said yes, and that each piece was twice as big as she gave." + </p> + <p> + "I'm afraid that was rather forward, Ben. Did she say anything to that?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I don't mean to stay in Hampton," said Ben quietly. + </p> + <p> + "Don't mean to stay in Hampton!" exclaimed Uncle Joe, amazed. + </p> + <p> + "No, uncle. There's a good many places besides Hampton in the world." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "It won't take me long to get acquainted," returned Ben, not at all + disturbed by this consideration. + </p> + <p> + "Where do you want to go?" + </p> + <p> + "I want to go to California." + </p> + <p> + "Gracious sakes! Want to go to California!" gasped Job. "What put that + idee into your head?" + </p> + <p> + "A good many people are going there, and there's a chance to get rich + quick out among the gold-mines." + </p> + <p> + "But you're only a boy." + </p> + <p> + "I'm a pretty large boy, Uncle Job," said Ben complacently, "and I'm + pretty strong." + </p> + <p> + "So you be, Ben, but it takes more than strength." + </p> + <p> + "What more, Uncle Job?" + </p> + <p> + "It takes judgment." + </p> + <p> + "Can't a boy have judgment?" + </p> + <p> + "Waal, he may have some, but you don't often find an old head on young + shoulders." + </p> + <p> + "I know all that, uncle, but I can work if I am a boy." + </p> + <p> + "I know you're willin' to work, Ben, but it'll cost a sight of money to + get out to Californy to start with." + </p> + <p> + "I know that. It will take two hundred dollars." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I'm afraid you've got large idees, Ben." + </p> + <p> + "You won't interfere with my going, Uncle Job?" asked Ben anxiously. + </p> + <p> + "I won't actooly interfere, but I'll do all I can to have you give it up." + </p> + <p> + "But if my mind is set upon it, you'll let me go, won't you, uncle?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "No, I shall only blame myself." + </p> + <p> + "There's one promise you must make me," said his uncle. + </p> + <p> + "What is that?" + </p> + <p> + "Take a week to consider whether you hadn't better take my advice and stay + at home." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, uncle, I'll promise that." + </p> + <p> + "And you'll think it over in all its bearin's?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, uncle." + </p> + <p> + "It ain't best to take any important step without reflection, Ben." + "You're right, uncle." + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + "Supper's ready, father." + </p> + <p> + "So are we, Jennie," said Ben, promptly. + </p> + <p> + "You are always ready to eat, Ben," said his cousin, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "That's what Mrs. Pitkin used to think, Jennie. She used to watch every + mouthful I took." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. — DEACON PITKIN'S OFFER. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + This thought troubled Mr. Stanton, and on his death-bed he spoke about it + to his son. + </p> + <p> + "I shall leave you almost destitute, Ben," he said. "If I had acted more + wisely it would have been different." + </p> + <p> + "Don't trouble yourself about that, father," said Ben promptly. "I am + young and strong, and I shall be sure to get along." + </p> + <p> + "You will have to work hard, and the world is a hard taskmaster." + </p> + <p> + "I don't feel afraid, father. I am sure I shall succeed." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + On the following morning Ben was sent on an errand to the village store. + On his way he overtook Deacon Pitkin. + </p> + <p> + "Good mornin', Ben!" said the deacon. "Where are you goin'?" + </p> + <p> + "To the store, sir." + </p> + <p> + "So am I. Ef you ain't in a hurry, le'ss walk along together." + </p> + <p> + "All right, sir," answered Ben. "I think I know what's comin," he said to + himself. + </p> + <p> + "You're stayin' at your Uncle Job's, ain't you?" asked Deacon Pitkin. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "You don't calc'late to keep on there, do you?" + </p> + <p> + "No, sir; he would like to have me stay and work in the shop, but I don't + fancy shoemaking." + </p> + <p> + "Jest so. I wouldn't ef I was you. It's an onsartin business. There's + nothin' like farmin' for stiddy work." + </p> + <p> + "The old man kept me at work pretty stiddy," thought Ben. "He'd always + find something for me to do." + </p> + <p> + "'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-" + </p> + <p> + "You'd have to pay him too high wages," Ben said to himself. + </p> + <p> + "A strong, capable boy like you could give me all the help I need." + </p> + <p> + "I expect I could," said Ben demurely. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What did she say?" asked Ben, interested. + </p> + <p> + "Waal, she didn't say much," answered the deacon slowly; "but I guess she + hasn't no objections." + </p> + <p> + "Didn't she say that I had an awful appetite?" asked Ben, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "She said you was pretty hearty," answered the deacon, rather surprised at + Ben's penetration. "Boys should curb their appetites." + </p> + <p> + "I don't think I could curb mine," said Ben thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Jest so," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + The deacon looked at him rather sharply, but Ben didn't appear to intend + any disrespect in repeating his favorite phrase. + </p> + <p> + "Did your father leave you much?" inquired Deacon Pitkin. + </p> + <p> + "A few hundred dollars," said Ben carelessly. + </p> + <p> + "Indeed!" said the deacon, gratified. "What are you goin' to do with it?" + </p> + <p> + "Uncle Job thinks it would be best to put it in the bank." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ben shook his head. + </p> + <p> + "I guess we can't make a bargain, Deacon Pitkin," he said. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What was you expectin'?" he asked cautiously. "You must remember that + you're only a boy, and can't expect men's wages." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I am almost as strong as a man," he said, "and I can earn a great deal + more than my board the first year." + </p> + <p> + "I might be willin' to give you twenty dollars the first year," said the + deacon. + </p> + <p> + "I've been thinking," said Ben soberly, "that I ought to have a hundred + and fifty dollars and board the first year." + </p> + <p> + Deacon Pitkin fairly gasped for breath. He was fairly overpowered by Ben's + audacity. + </p> + <p> + "A-hundred-and-fifty-dollars!" he ejaculated, turning his wrinkled face + toward our hero. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is the boy crazy?" asked the deacon, in a bewildered tone. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Benjamin," said the deacon solemnly, "do you want to ruin me?" + </p> + <p> + "No, sir, I hope not," answered our hero innocently. + </p> + <p> + "Then why do you ask such an unheard-of price?" + </p> + <p> + "I think I'm worth it," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Boys haven't much jedgment," said the deacon. "You'd better let me talk + over this matter with your Uncle Job." + </p> + <p> + "It won't be any use, Deacon Pitkin. Uncle Job won't interfere with me." + </p> + <p> + "You can't get such wages anywhere. You'll have to work for less." + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps I can't get my price in Hampton," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Of course you can't. There ain't no one goin' to pay you men's wages." + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps you are right, Deacon Pitkin. In that case, my mind is made up." + </p> + <p> + "What will you do?" asked the deacon, showing some curiosity. + </p> + <p> + "I'll leave town." + </p> + <p> + "It's a resky thing, Benjamin. You ain't old enough to take care of + yourself." + </p> + <p> + "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—" + </p> + <p> + "You must think I'm crazy," said the deacon hastily. "I don't throw money + away that way." + </p> + <p> + "Then I'm afraid we can't make a bargain, deacon. Here is the store, and + I'll bid you good morning." + </p> + <p> + "If you think better of my offer, you can let me know, Benjamin. You can + talk it over with your uncle." + </p> + <p> + "All right, sir. If you think better of mine, just let me know within a + week, or I may be gone from Hampton." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + In the evening Deacon Pitkin came over to see Job Stanton, and renewed his + offer for Ben's services. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "It won't be of much use, Deacon Pitkin. Ben's got his idees, an' he + sticks to 'em." + </p> + <p> + "But you're his uncle. You can make him see his true interest." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. — SAM STURGIS' NEW IDEA. + </h2> + <p> + During the week which Ben had agreed to take before coming to a final + decision, he had another offer of employment. + </p> + <p> + This is how it came about: + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Father," he said, "Cousin Henry has a boy about his own age to wait on + him, black his boots, and run errands." + </p> + <p> + "Has he?" asked the major mechanically, not looking up from the daily + paper which he was reading. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir. He don't pay him much, you know, only five dollars a month and + his board, and Henry finds it very convenient." + </p> + <p> + Major Sturgis did not reply. In fact, he was too much interested in the + article he was reading. + </p> + <p> + "Ain't you as rich as uncle?" asked Sam, who was gradually leading up to + his proposal. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, Sam, I think so," answered his father, laying down the paper and + removing his gold-bowed spectacles. + </p> + <p> + "Then why won't you let me have a servant, too?" + </p> + <p> + "What do you want of a servant? There are servants enough in the house." + </p> + <p> + "I want a boy to follow me round, and do just what I bid him." + </p> + <p> + "I don't see any necessity for it." + </p> + <p> + "He could do errands for you, too, father," said Sam diplomatically. + </p> + <p> + "We would have to send to the city for a boy, in case I let you have one." + </p> + <p> + "No, we wouldn't," answered Sam. + </p> + <p> + "Do you know of any one around here?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes; there is Ben Stanton. He's got to find something to do." + </p> + <p> + "I thought you didn't like Ben Stanton," said the major, in some surprise. + "I have heard you say-" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Well, father, may I engage Ben as my servant?" + </p> + <p> + "I am afraid you would not find him properly subordinate." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Sam generally carried his point with his father, and the present instance + was no exception. + </p> + <p> + "I don't know that I have any particular objection," said the major. + </p> + <p> + "How much wages may I offer, father?" + </p> + <p> + "The same that your Cousin Henry's servant gets." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, my son." + </p> + <p> + As Sam went out of the room his father thought, complacently: + </p> + <p> + "My son has all the pride and instincts of a gentleman. He will do credit + to the family." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "How are you, Sam?" was Ben's familiar greeting. "Want to go fishing with + me?" + </p> + <p> + "He's entirely too familiar," thought Sam. "I'll cure him of that when he + is under my orders." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I will walk along with you, Ben," said Sam condescendingly. + </p> + <p> + "All right. Haven't you got a fishing-pole at home?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I have a very handsome one; it cost five dollars." + </p> + <p> + "Then it's rather ahead of mine," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "I should say so," remarked Sam, surveying Ben's pole with contempt. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Very likely," said Sam briefly, "but I prefer to use a nice pole." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, there's no objection," said Ben, "if you fancy it. It doesn't make + any difference to me." + </p> + <p> + "When are you going to work?" asked Sam abruptly. + </p> + <p> + "I am working every day-that is, I am helping Uncle Job." + </p> + <p> + "But I suppose you mean to get regular work somewhere, don't you?" + </p> + <p> + "What's he after, I wonder?" thought Ben. "Maybe I do," he said aloud. + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps I can throw something in your way," said Sam, in a patronizing + way. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What are you willing to pay?" asked Ben, in a businesslike tone. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What would you want me to do?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I don't think it would tire me out," said Ben. "You'd want me to + black your boots?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I might agree to that on one condition." + </p> + <p> + "What is that?" + </p> + <p> + "That you would black mine." + </p> + <p> + "What do you mean?" demanded Sam, his face flushing angrily. + </p> + <p> + "Just what I say." + </p> + <p> + "Do you mean to insult me?" + </p> + <p> + "Not a bit; any more than you mean to insult me," + </p> + <p> + "Do you dare to propose that I, a gentleman, should black your low-lived + shoes?" exclaimed Sam furiously. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I never heard such impudence," said Sam, in concentrated wrath. "I never + was so repaid for kindness before." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I won't live there, if I can help it. What! are you going to leave me?" + </p> + <p> + "I won't condescend to be seen with you." + </p> + <p> + "Good-by, Sam. I hope you won't have to black your own boots." + </p> + <p> + Sam did not deign a reply. + </p> + <p> + "He looks mad," thought Ben. "I'd live on one meal a day rather than let + him order me round." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. — A BRILLIANT CHANCE. + </h2> + <p> + The week was over, and Ben persisted in his determination to leave + Hampton. + </p> + <p> + "I'm sorry you are going, Ben," said his Cousin Jennie. "I shall miss you + awfully." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "You'd forget me soon," he said. + </p> + <p> + "No, I won't." + </p> + <p> + "Especially when Sam Sturgis comes round to see you." + </p> + <p> + "I don't want to see him. He's a stuck-up boy, and thinks himself too good + to associate with common people." + </p> + <p> + "He wanted to have me black his boots," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "He isn't fit to black yours," said Jennie energetically. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes, he is," said Ben, laughing. "That's where you and I disagree." + </p> + <p> + "I guess we both mean about the same thing," said Jennie, who saw the + point. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + It ran thus: + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + This advertisement looked quite attractive to Ben. He copied it, and + showed it to Uncle Job. + </p> + <p> + "Isn't that a good chance, Uncle Job?" he said. "Just think! Ten dollars a + week!" + </p> + <p> + "You'd have to pay your board out of it," said his uncle. + </p> + <p> + "I know that, but my board wouldn't cost more than four dollars a week. + That would leave me six." + </p> + <p> + "So it would. I declare it does seem to be a good chance. Maybe they've + got all the boys they want." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Maybe you had, Ben." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + "No.—NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Yours respectfully, + </p> + <h3> + "FITCH & FERGUSON. + </h3> + <p> + "P. S. Your engagement will not commence until the fifty dollars are in + our hands." + </p> + <p> + Ben was quite elated by his success. + </p> + <p> + "I must start to-morrow morning," he said, "or I shall be in danger of + losing the place." + </p> + <p> + "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-" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Stanton acquiesced rather unwillingly, and for the remainder of the + day Ben was busy making preparations to leave his country home. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. — IN SEARCH OF A PLACE. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + As he entered Nassau Street from Printing-House + </p> + <p> + Square, a bootblack accosted him. + </p> + <p> + "How are you, country?" + </p> + <p> + "Are you very anxious to know?" asked Ben, stopping short. + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "I'm well enough and strong enough to give you a licking." + </p> + <p> + "Good for you, country! Have you come to stay long?" + </p> + <p> + Ben laughed. He concluded not to take offense, but to answer seriously. + </p> + <p> + "That depends on whether I get the place I am after." + </p> + <p> + "What is that?" asked the bootblack, in a friendly tone. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The bootblack surveyed him with pitying curiosity. + </p> + <p> + "You don't mean to say you swallow all that?" he said. + </p> + <p> + "Don't you think it's all right?" asked Ben anxiously. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Don't you earn more than that by your business?" + </p> + <p> + "Sometimes I do, but it ain't stiddy, and I'd rather have a place." + </p> + <p> + "Why do they advertise to give ten dollars, then?" asked our hero. + </p> + <p> + "They want to get hold of your fifty dollars," said the bootblack. "Them + fellers is beats, that's what they are." + </p> + <p> + "What had I better do?" asked Ben, in perplexity. + </p> + <p> + "Go and see 'em, and have a talk. If they're not after your fifty dollars, + you'll know what it means." + </p> + <p> + "It may be all right, after all," said Ben, who did not like to give up + hope. + </p> + <p> + "I may be General Grant," retorted the bootblack, "but if I know myself I + ain't." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I'll go round and talk with them. Where can I meet you afterwards?" + </p> + <p> + "I'll be standin' here, if you ain't gone too long." + </p> + <p> + "What's your name?" + </p> + <p> + "Tom Cooper." + </p> + <p> + "I am Ben Stanton. Thank you for your advice." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "All right, Tom." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Presently he stood in front of a door bearing the number 17. + </p> + <p> + He knocked for admittance. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. — MR. PITCH, THE SENIOR PARTNER. + </h2> + <p> + "Come in," said a loud voice. + </p> + <p> + Ben opened the door and entered. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Is this the office of Fitch & Ferguson?" inquired Ben. + </p> + <p> + A glance at Ben's carpetbag indicated that he had come in answer to the + advertisement, and he was received very graciously. + </p> + <p> + "Come in," said the man in the chair, smiling affably. "This is the office + of Fitch & Ferguson. I am Mr. Fitch." + </p> + <p> + "My name is Stanton-Ben Stanton," said our hero. "I wrote you from Hampton + about your advertisement." + </p> + <p> + "For a boy at ten dollars a week?" suggested the dark man, with a pleasant + smile. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "We agreed to take you, did we not?" asked Mr. Fitch. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Have you had any business experience?" inquired Pitch. + </p> + <p> + "No, sir." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ben did not reply. He was not so much concerned about the amount of his + compensation as about the reliable character of Fitch & Ferguson. + </p> + <p> + "Still," mused Mr. Fitch, "you look like a boy who would learn fast. What + do you think about it yourself?" + </p> + <p> + "I think I could," answered Ben. "I should try to serve you faithfully." + </p> + <p> + "That is well. We want to be served faithfully," said Mr. Fitch. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "No, I suppose not," returned our hero. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + Ben admitted that he had. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fitch's face brightened up, for he had not felt quite sure of that. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I would like to ask you one or two questions first," said Ben, making no + movement toward his pocket. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fitch frowned. + </p> + <p> + "Really, I fail to catch your meaning," he said, in a changed tone. "Do + you wish to enter my employ, or do you not?" + </p> + <p> + "I should like to earn ten dollars a week." + </p> + <p> + "Precisely. Then all you have to do is to hand me the fifty dollars and go + to work." + </p> + <p> + "You might keep me only a week," suggested Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "I should like to propose something to you, sir," he said. + </p> + <p> + "What is it?" asked Fitch impatiently. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "I have." + </p> + <p> + "Then you can secure the place-a place such as few New York boys are + fortunate enough to fill. You must decide for yourself." + </p> + <p> + He threw himself back in his chair and looked at Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "There are plenty of boys who want the place," continued Fitch, trying to + look indifferent. + </p> + <p> + "I guess you can give it to one of them," said Ben coolly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ben admitted that it was. + </p> + <p> + "Probably your means are limited?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir; I am a poor boy." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "No, sir." + </p> + <p> + "We will take you on a deposit of forty dollars, then." + </p> + <p> + Ben shook his head, and moved as if to depart. + </p> + <p> + "In fact," said Mr. Fitch hastily, "I believe I will say thirty dollars, + Though I am afraid my partner will blame me." + </p> + <p> + Ben was not versed in city ways, but now he distrusted Mr. Fitch more than + ever. + </p> + <p> + "I would rather take a situation where no deposit is required," he said. + </p> + <p> + "But you can't get any unless you agree to accept three or four dollars a + week." + </p> + <p> + "Can you afford to pay me ten dollars a week on account of my deposit?" + asked Ben shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fitch flushed, for Ben's question was a home thrust. + </p> + <p> + "We don't want cheap boys," he said pompously. "We want boys who are worth + high wages, and no others." + </p> + <p> + "And you think I am worth high wages?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + "I think so, but I may be mistaken." + </p> + <p> + Ben was not required to answer, for the door opened hastily, and a man + entered in visible excitement. + </p> + <p> + "What is your business, sir?" asked Mr. Fitch, rather nervously. + </p> + <p> + "Are you Fitch or Ferguson?" demanded the intruder. + </p> + <p> + "I am Mr. Fitch." + </p> + <p> + "Two days ago my son, James Cameron, entered your service." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Where is he now?" + </p> + <p> + "We have sent him to Brooklyn to collect a bill." + </p> + <p> + "He paid you a deposit of fifty dollars?" + </p> + <p> + "Certainly. We require it as a guarantee of honesty and fidelity." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I want you to pay it back." + </p> + <p> + "I don't understand you, sir," said Mr. Fitch, looking very much + disturbed. "It will be given up when your son leaves our employment." + </p> + <p> + "Well, he's going to leave it to-day," said the other. + </p> + <p> + "Can you get him another place as good? Ten dollars a week are not often + paid to boys." + </p> + <p> + "No, sir; it's that that makes me suspicious. Give me back the fifty + dollars, and James shall leave your employment." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That won't do," said the angry father. + </p> + <p> + "It will have to do," said Fitch. "You are doing a very foolish thing, Mr. + Cameron." + </p> + <p> + "I'll risk that." + </p> + <p> + "When your son returns from Brooklyn we will consider what can be done." + </p> + <p> + "When will that be?" + </p> + <p> + "In a couple of hours." + </p> + <p> + "I will come in then." + </p> + <p> + Cameron went out, and Ben followed him, the discomfited Fitch making no + effort to detain the lad. + </p> + <p> + "I was thinking of engaging myself to Mr. Fitch," said Ben to his + companion. "Do you know anything against him?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, sir." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Did you collect any money in Brooklyn?" asked his father. + </p> + <p> + "No; I guess Mr. Fitch gave me the wrong number. There was no such man + living at the house he sent me to." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. — BEN'S DINNER-GUEST. + </h2> + <p> + Ben slowly retraced his steps to where he had left his friend, Tom Cooper. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said the bootblack, "did you see Fitch and Ferguson?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," answered Ben soberly; "that is, I saw one of them." + </p> + <p> + "Did you take the place?" + </p> + <p> + "No; I found he was too anxious for my fifty dollars, though he offered + after a while to take me for thirty." + </p> + <p> + Tom Cooper laughed derisively. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "How long will you keep me?" asked Ben, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "Six days," answered Tom. "Then I'll have to sack you without pay, 'cause + you don't understand your business." + </p> + <p> + "Is that the way they manage?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + The bootblack nodded. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What are you goin' to do?" asked Tom. + </p> + <p> + "I wish I knew," said Ben earnestly. "What can I do?" + </p> + <p> + "You might go into my business," suggested Tom. + </p> + <p> + Ben shook his head. + </p> + <p> + "I don't think I should like that." + </p> + <p> + "No more would I if I'd got fifty dollars in my pocket. If I was you I'd + go into business." + </p> + <p> + "What kind of business?" + </p> + <p> + "Well," said Tom reflectively, "you might buy out an apple or a + peanut-stand, and have lots of money left." + </p> + <p> + "Is there much money to be made that way?" inquired Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I never knowed anybody get rich in that line. I guess you'd make a + livin'." + </p> + <p> + "That wouldn't satisfy me, Tom. What I want most of all is to go to + California." + </p> + <p> + The bootblack whistled. + </p> + <p> + "That's off ever so far, isn't it?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, it's a long way." + </p> + <p> + "How do you go?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What would you do when you got to California?" asked Tom. + </p> + <p> + "Go to work. I suppose I would go to the mines and dig gold." + </p> + <p> + "I wish it wasn't so far off. I'd like to go myself. Do you think a feller + could work his passage?" + </p> + <p> + "By blacking boots?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "I don't believe he could. Sailors don't care much about having their + boots blacked." + </p> + <p> + "How much does it cost to go?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't know." + </p> + <p> + "Why don't you go to the office and find out?" + </p> + <p> + "So I will," said Ben, brightening up at the thought. "Do you know where + it is?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "Will you show me?" + </p> + <p> + "I would if I'd make enough to buy me some dinner. I only had a five-cent + breakfast, and I feel kinder holler." + </p> + <p> + "I feel hungry myself," said Ben. "If you'll go with me I'll buy you some + dinner to pay you for your trouble." + </p> + <p> + "'Nough said!" remarked Tom briefly, as he shouldered his box. "I'm your + man. Come along! Where shall we go first?" + </p> + <p> + "To an eating-house. We might have to wait at the office." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The young clerk pulled out a scented handkerchief, and applied it to his + nose, looking at Tom meanwhile. + </p> + <p> + "What's the matter of yer?" inquired Tom, suspecting the cause of the + dandy's discomfort. "Be you sick?" + </p> + <p> + "It's enough to make one sick to sit at the table with you," answered the + clerk. + </p> + <p> + "Why?" + </p> + <p> + "You are absolutely filthy. Don't you know any better than to come in + where there are gentlemen?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't see any except him," said Tom, indicating Ben with his glance. + </p> + <p> + "This is really too much. Here, waiter!" + </p> + <p> + A waiter answered the summons. + </p> + <p> + "What is it, sir?" + </p> + <p> + "Just remove my plate to another table, will you?" + </p> + <p> + "Is anything the matter, sir?" + </p> + <p> + "I am not accustomed to associate with bootblacks," said the clerk + loftily. + </p> + <p> + "All right, sir." + </p> + <p> + "I am really surprised that you admit any of that low class." + </p> + <p> + "As long as they pay their bills we are willing to receive them." + </p> + <p> + "I don't believe that boy has got enough to pay for his dinner." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Have you given your order?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "If you haven't got money enough to pay your check you'll be bounced." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "The dinner will be paid for," said Ben, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "All right, gentlemen," said the waiter, more respectfully. "We'll be glad + to see you any time." + </p> + <p> + "Tom," said Ben, "I'm afraid you don't always tell the truth." + </p> + <p> + "Why not?" + </p> + <p> + "You told the waiter I was a Wall Street banker, and rich." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, what's the odds? You're rich enough to pay for the dinners, and + that's all he wants." + </p> + <p> + "You came near spoiling the appitite of that young man over at the + opposite table." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Why, you see, Tom, your face isn't very clean. There are spots of + blacking on it." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Not a bit," said Ben, laughing. "Nothing but a good dinner will take away + that." + </p> + <p> + "You're the kind of feller I like," said Tom emphatically. "You don't put + on no airs." + </p> + <p> + "I can't afford to," said Ben. "I'm a poor boy myself." + </p> + <p> + "I wouldn't feel poor if I had fifty dollars," returned Tom. + </p> + <p> + "I hope you'll have it sometime, and a good deal more." + </p> + <p> + "So do I. When I'm a rich man, I'll wash my face oftener." + </p> + <p> + "And put blacking on your boots instead of your face," added Ben. + </p> + <p> + "It might look better," Tom admitted. + </p> + <p> + When dinner was over the two boys directed their steps to the California + steamship office, on one of the North River piers. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. — A STRANGE ACQUAINTANCE. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I should think it was the Fourth of July," he said. + </p> + <p> + "Why?" asked the bootblack. + </p> + <p> + "Because there's such a lot of people and wagons in the streets." + </p> + <p> + "There's always as many as this, except Sundays," said Tom. + </p> + <p> + "Where do they all come from?" said Beu wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "I was looking the other way," said Ben, rather confused. + </p> + <p> + "You've got to look all ways to once here," said Tom. + </p> + <p> + "I guess you're right. Don't people often get run over?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is he alive now?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes, he's alive and to work, the same as ever. He's got a wooden + leg." + </p> + <p> + "Poor boy!" said Ben compassionately. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, he don't mind it, Patsy don't. He's always jolly." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + When the two gentlemen were disposed of, the agent spoke to the young + lady. + </p> + <p> + "What can I do for you, miss?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "I am in no hurry, sir," she answered, in a low voice. "I will wait for + those boys." + </p> + <p> + "What's your business, boys?" demanded the agent, shrugging his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + "When does the next steamer start, sir?" inquired Ben. + </p> + <p> + "In three days." + </p> + <p> + "What is the price of passage?" + </p> + <p> + "First-class?" + </p> + <p> + "No, sir, the cheapest." + </p> + <p> + "One hundred dollars. Do you wish to secure passage?" + </p> + <p> + "Not this morning, sir." + </p> + <p> + The agent shrugged his shoulders again, as if to say "I thought so," and + turned again to the young lady. + </p> + <p> + "Now, miss," he said. + </p> + <p> + "I beg your pardon, sir," she said hurriedly. "I will call again." + </p> + <p> + As she spoke, she left the office, following the two boys so quickly that + they almost went out together. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "May I speak a few words with you?" she said. + </p> + <p> + "Certainly," answered Ben politely, though he could not conceal his + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + The young lady looked uneasily at Tom, and hesitated. + </p> + <p> + "Won't you move away a few steps, Tom?" said Ben, understanding the look. + </p> + <p> + "Thank you," said the young lady, in a low voice. "Are you intending to + sail for California by the next steamer?" + </p> + <p> + "I should like to, miss, but I am poor, and I don't know whether I can + afford the expense of a ticket." + </p> + <p> + "Would you go if your ticket were paid-by a friend?" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Would you be willing to take care of me—that is, to look after me?" + </p> + <p> + Ben was certainly surprised; but he answered promptly and with native + politeness: "It would be a pleasure to me." + </p> + <p> + "You were going alone-you had no friends with you?" + </p> + <p> + "None at all, miss." + </p> + <p> + "That is well," she said. "What is your name?" + </p> + <p> + "Ben Stanton." + </p> + <p> + "Do you live in the city?" + </p> + <p> + "No, miss. I came from the small town of Hampton." + </p> + <p> + "Where are you staying?" + </p> + <p> + "Nowhere. I only arrived in the city this morning." + </p> + <p> + "Will you be able to go by the next steamer?" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Then go back with me, and I will engage passage for us both." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I have concluded to engage passage for myself and this lad," she said. + </p> + <p> + The agent regarded her with surprise. + </p> + <p> + "Both first-class?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "Certainly, sir. I should like the lad to occupy a stateroom near mine." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sir." + </p> + <p> + "What name?" continued the agent. + </p> + <p> + "Ida Sinclair," answered the young lady, with visible hesitation. + </p> + <p> + "And the boy's name?" + </p> + <p> + Miss Sinclair had forgotten; but Ben promptly answered for himself. + </p> + <p> + 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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "You say you are not staying at any hotel?" said the young lady, as they + emerged into the street. + </p> + <p> + "No, Miss Sinclair." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is it an expensive hotel?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + "That will not matter to you, as I shall pay the bill." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, Miss Sinclair; but you are spending a great deal of money for + me." + </p> + <p> + "I have an object in doing so. Besides, I have no lack of money." + </p> + <p> + "Shall I go with you to the hotel now?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "May I speak a moment to the boy who was with me?" + </p> + <p> + "Certainly." + </p> + <p> + "May I tell him where I am going?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, but ask him to keep it to himself." + </p> + <p> + "I will, Miss Sinclair," and Ben was about to walk away. + </p> + <p> + "On the whole, call the boy here," said Miss Sinclair. "Tom!" Tom Cooper + answered the summons. + </p> + <p> + "I am going to California with this lady," said Ben. "She has paid my + passage." + </p> + <p> + "You're in luck!" exclaimed Tom. "Say, miss, you don't want a boy to go + along to black your boots, do you?" + </p> + <p> + Miss Sinclair smiled faintly. + </p> + <p> + "I think not," she answered. + </p> + <p> + "Tom," continued Ben, "you won't say a word about my going, will you?" + </p> + <p> + "Not if you don't want me to. Besides, there ain't nobody to tell." + </p> + <p> + Miss Sinclair looked relieved. She drew out her pocketbook, and took from + it a ten-dollar bill. + </p> + <p> + "What is your name?" she asked. + </p> + <p> + "Tom Cooper, ma'am." + </p> + <p> + "Then, Tom, allow me to offer you a small present." + </p> + <p> + "Is it all for me?" exclaimed Tom, in amazement. + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + Tom thrust it into his vest pocket, and immediately executed a somersault, + rather to Miss Sinclair's alarm. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "May I tell Tom where we are going to stop?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Certainly, if he will keep it to himself." + </p> + <p> + "I shall be at the Astor House, Tom. Come round and see me." + </p> + <p> + Tom watched the two as they preceded him on their way to Broadway. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. — AT THE ASTOR HOUSE. + </h2> + <p> + 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." + </p> + <p> + "I don't doubt it, Miss Sinclair," returned Ben. + </p> + <p> + "It is desirable that I should tell you-" + </p> + <p> + "Don't tell me anything unless you like, Miss Sinclair. I am not troubled + with curiosity." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "We are to stop at the Astor House?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, Miss Sinclair." + </p> + <p> + "You may put me down as from-well, from Philadelphia." + </p> + <p> + "All right. Shall I put myself down from Philadelphia, too?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I wouldn't take the liberty but for your wishing it." + </p> + <p> + "I do wish it-otherwise it would be difficult to pass you off as my + cousin." + </p> + <p> + "All right, Miss Sinclair-I mean Ida." + </p> + <p> + "That is better. I shall call you Ben." + </p> + <p> + "You couldn't very well call me Mr. Stanton," said our hero, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Very well-Ida." + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + "I should like to engage rooms for my cousin and myself." + </p> + <p> + The clerk pushed the register toward him. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "We can give you rooms on the third floor. Will that do?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir, I think so. We would like to be near together." + </p> + <p> + "Very well. I can give you two rooms directly opposite to each other." + </p> + <p> + "That will do, sir." + </p> + <p> + The clerk touched a bell, and a porter presented himself: + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ben followed the porter, pausing at the door of the ladies' parlor, where + his companion awaited him. + </p> + <p> + "Come, Ida," he said, feeling a little awkward at addressing Miss Sinclair + so familiarly. "The servant is ready to show us our rooms." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, Ben," said Miss Sinclair, smiling. She did not seem so nervous + now. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + "Join me in the ladies' parlor in fifteen minutes, Ben. I have something + to say to you." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "It's like the Arabian Nights," thought Ben, "and Miss Sinclair must be a + fairy." + </p> + <p> + He took out his scanty wardrobe from the carpetbag, and put it away in one + of the drawers of the bureau. + </p> + <p> + "I might just as well enjoy all the privileges of the hotel," he said to + himself. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + He did not have to wait long. In five minutes Miss Sinclair made her + appearance. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ben speedily reappeared, and at Miss Sinclair's request sat down beside + her on a sofa. + </p> + <p> + "You must know, Ben," she commenced, "that I am flying from my guardian." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "He couldn't force you to marry his son, could he?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "He must be a rascal!" said our hero indignantly. + </p> + <p> + "He is," said Miss Sinclair quietly. + </p> + <p> + "I don't see how he can do such things in a free country." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I don't wonder you ran away, Ida." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What makes you think of going to California? is it because it is so far + off?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is it a young man?" asked Ben shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is Mr. Dewey in California?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That is shameful!" said Ben warmly. + </p> + <p> + "It is indeed; but with your help I think I can circumvent Mr. Campbell + yet." + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Campbell is your guardian, I suppose, Ida?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "You may reply upon me to help you in every way possible, Miss Sinclair." + </p> + <p> + "Ida," corrected the young lady. + </p> + <p> + "I mean Ida." + </p> + <p> + "That's right, Cousin Ben." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Partly because I like your looks; you look honest and trustworthy." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, but I am only a boy." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "At any rate, I am lucky to be selected. I hope you will be satisfied with + me." + </p> + <p> + "I feel sure of it." + </p> + <p> + "You are spending a great deal of money for me." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That is lucky for you." + </p> + <p> + "Under present circumstances-yes." + </p> + <p> + Here two ladies entered the parlor, and the conversation was suspended. + </p> + <p> + "I believe I will go in to dinner now," said Miss Sinclair. "Will you + come, Ben?" + </p> + <p> + "I ate dinner an hour ago." + </p> + <p> + "Then you can go where you please. Meet me here at six o'clock." + </p> + <p> + "All right, Ida." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. — BEN RECEIVES A CALL. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Ben?" said the young lady inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + "I would like to write home for my clothes, if you have no objection." + </p> + <p> + "Certainly; but don't say anything about me." + </p> + <p> + "All right." + </p> + <p> + Ben went to the reading-room, and, procuring writing-materials, penned the + following letter to his uncle: + </p> + <h3> + "ASTOR HOUSE, NEW YORK. + </h3> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + This letter excited considerable surprise in Hampton. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "He says he's got money enough with him, father," said Mrs. Stanton. "How + much did he take away with him?" + </p> + <p> + "Seventy-five dollars." + </p> + <p> + "And he had to pay his passage to California out of that?" + </p> + <p> + "Of course." + </p> + <p> + "He won't have much left when he gets to California, then." + </p> + <p> + "No, he won't." + </p> + <p> + "Don't you think you'd better send him some?" + </p> + <p> + "No, wife. Ben says no, and I'm goin' accordin' to his directions. I + suppose he knows best what he wants." + </p> + <p> + 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?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, he writ me a letter from New York. I got it this mornin'?" + </p> + <p> + "Has he got a chance to black boots?" asked Sam, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + "He's stayin' at the Astor House," said Job, enjoying Sam's surprise. + </p> + <p> + "Staying at the Astor House!" exclaimed the young aristocrat in + astonishment. "Why, that is a tip-top hotel." + </p> + <p> + "I always heerd it was," returned Job. "How can he afford to stay there?" + </p> + <p> + "He didn't say." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I don't think it is, for he has engaged passage to Californy." + </p> + <p> + "Is that so? When does he sail?" + </p> + <p> + "On Saturday. We're goin' to send him his clothes. Do you want to send him + any word or message?" + </p> + <p> + "No; why should I?" + </p> + <p> + "I thought you was one of his friends." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "You're very kind," said Job, concealing his amusement; "but I don't think + Ben will need to take up with your offer." + </p> + <p> + "I think he will," said Sam. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + So when Sam got home he preferred a request to visit New York, and + obtained permission. + </p> + <p> + We now return to the Astor House. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Ben," she said hurriedly, "I must leave the table. Do you see that tall + man sitting by the window?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, Cousin Ida." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "All right!" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Mr. Campbell had made inquiries at the office if a young lady + from Albany was staying at the hotel. + </p> + <p> + "No," said the clerk. + </p> + <p> + It will be remembered that Miss Sinclair had registered from Philadelphia, + or, rather, Ben had done so for her. + </p> + <p> + "Have you any young lady here without escort?" asked Mr. Campbell. + </p> + <p> + "No, sir. There is a young lady from Philadelphia, but she arrived with + her cousin, a lad of fifteen or sixteen." + </p> + <p> + "That cannot be the one I am in search of," said the unsuspecting + guardian. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + After supper Ben went to Miss Sinclair's room, as directed. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I guess you're right," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "All right, Miss Sinclair." + </p> + <p> + "You had better call me 'Cousin Ida,' so as to get used to it." + </p> + <p> + 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?" + </p> + <p> + Sam nodded. + </p> + <p> + "You don't mean to say that you are stopping here, do you?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I do," said Ben, smiling. "Why not?" + </p> + <p> + "Because it's a first-class hotel." + </p> + <p> + "Why shouldn't I stay at a first-class hotel, Sam?" + </p> + <p> + "Because you are a poor boy. Maybe you've got some relations among the + servants?" + </p> + <p> + "If I have I don't know it." + </p> + <p> + "Your uncle told me you were stopping here, but I didn't believe it." + </p> + <p> + "Do you believe it now?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps you just stay round here to make people believe you are a guest + of the house." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Sam concluded to accept the invitation, and accompanied Ben to the desk. + </p> + <p> + "Please give me the key to number sixty-six," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Here it is, sir." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Make yourself at home, Sam," said Ben, enjoying his companion's surprise. + </p> + <p> + "It's very queer," thought Sam. "I wonder whether he won't run off without + paying his bill." + </p> + <p> + Sam rather hoped that this might be the case, as it would involve Ben in + disgrace. + </p> + <p> + "Your uncle tells me you are going to sail for California on Saturday." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, Sam." + </p> + <p> + "Have you bought your ticket?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "How much did you pay?" + </p> + <p> + "Excuse me. I would rather not tell just now." + </p> + <p> + "I suppose he goes in the steerage," thought Sam. + </p> + <p> + As he could learn nothing more from our hero, Sam soon left him. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. — MISS SINCLAIR'S STRATAGEM. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Good morning, boy!" he said stiffly, not having the art of ingratiating + himself with young people. + </p> + <p> + "Good morning, man!" Ben thought of replying, but he thought this would be + hardly polite, and said: "Good morning, sir," instead. + </p> + <p> + He suspected Mr. Campbell's purpose, and resolved to answer cautiously. + </p> + <p> + "This is a nice hotel," said the guardian, resolving to come to the point + by degrees. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "I suppose you are too young to have traveled much?" + </p> + <p> + "I never traveled much, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Didn't I see you in the company of a young lady?" + </p> + <p> + "Very likely, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Your sister, I suppose?" + </p> + <p> + "No, sir." + </p> + <p> + "A relation, I suppose?" + </p> + <p> + "I call her Cousin Ida," said Ben truthfully. + </p> + <p> + "Indeed! And she is from Philadelphia?" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "You can tell by looking at the hotel register," he said coldly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Excuse my questions," he said, "but I have an idea that I know your + cousin." + </p> + <p> + "In that case," said Ben, "if you will tell me your name I will speak to + Cousin Ida about it." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I will send a card," he said. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "All right, sir." + </p> + <p> + Ben went up-stairs and tapped for admission at Miss Sinclair's door. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Ben?" she said inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + "Here is a card which a gentleman down-stairs asked me to hand you." + </p> + <p> + "James Vernon!" repeated the young lady, in surprise. "Why, I don't know + any gentleman of that name." + </p> + <p> + "He said you might not remember it; but he thought he could recall it to + your recollection in a personal interview." + </p> + <p> + "I don't want a personal interview with any gentleman." + </p> + <p> + "Not with your guardian?" asked Ben, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "Was the man who handed you this card my guardian?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "So he thinks to delude me by masquerading under a false name! He must + suspect that I am his ward." + </p> + <p> + "Of course you won't see him?" + </p> + <p> + "No." + </p> + <p> + "What shall I say?" + </p> + <p> + "That I don't remember the name, and decline to see him." + </p> + <p> + "Won't that increase his suspicions?" + </p> + <p> + "I can't help it." + </p> + <p> + "Very well." + </p> + <p> + Ben went below; but thought he might as well put off the interview. It was + not till afternoon that Mr. Campbell met him again. + </p> + <p> + "Did you deliver my card, boy?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "My name is Benjamin," returned our hero, who did not fancy the manner of + address. + </p> + <p> + "Very well. Did you deliver my card, Benjamin?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "What did your cousin say?" + </p> + <p> + "That she knew no gentleman or family of your name." + </p> + <p> + "I did not expect she would remember; but I have reasons for asking an + interview." + </p> + <p> + "You mustn't be offended, sir; but she declines to meet a stranger." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Campbell was baffled. + </p> + <p> + "She mistakes my motive," he said, in a tone expressive of annoyance. "How + long do you stay here?" + </p> + <p> + "I can't say, sir," said Ben coldly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The young lady smiled. + </p> + <p> + "I have thought of a way to deceive him and quiet his suspicions," she + said. + </p> + <p> + Ben looked curious. + </p> + <p> + "If I remain away from the table he will feel sure that I am his ward." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I suppose so." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "All right!" + </p> + <p> + "I see you look puzzled," said Miss Sinclair, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "I am, a little; I don't know what good that will do." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I see! That is splendid!" exclaimed Ben, entering with hearty enthusiasm + into the conspiracy. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I have made a fool of myself. It is only a common country girl. I must + look elsewhere for my ward." + </p> + <p> + Directly after breakfast Ben had the satisfaction of seeing the obnoxious + guardian depart in a hack. + </p> + <p> + "Good-by, Mr. Vernon!" he said politely. "I see you are leaving the + hotel." + </p> + <p> + "Good-by!" muttered Campbell. + </p> + <p> + "I hope you'll excuse my cousin for not seeing you?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't think she's the one I supposed," said Campbell. "It's of no + consequence." + </p> + <p> + Ben hastened to inform Miss Sinclair of her guardian's departure. + </p> + <p> + "Now the field is clear," said Ida, breathing a sigh of relief. + </p> + <p> + "I say, Ida, you managed him tip-top," said Ben admiringly. "I never + should have thought of such a plan." + </p> + <p> + Miss Sinclair smiled faintly. + </p> + <p> + "I don't like to employ deceit," she said, "but it seems necessary to + fight such an enemy with his own weapons." + </p> + <p> + "He wanted to deceive you. He put a wrong name on his card." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ben's face brightened. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + On Saturday morning Miss Sinclair and Ben went on board the California + steamer, and when the tide served, they started on their long voyage. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. — IN SAN FRANCISCO. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, Cousin Ida," said Ben slowly. + </p> + <p> + "But you look thoughtful. Is there anything on your mind?" + </p> + <p> + "I feel sorry that I am to part from you, Cousin Ida." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, Ben, but we are not to part permanently. You don't mean to + forsake me utterly?" + </p> + <p> + "Not if you need me," said our hero. + </p> + <p> + "I shall still require your services. You remember that I came out here in + search of a—friend?" said Miss Sinclair, hesitating. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I know, Cousin Ida." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "To be sure," said Ben straightforwardly. "I suppose you would marry him?" + </p> + <p> + "That may come some time," said Miss Sinclair, smiling, "but he must be + found first." + </p> + <p> + "You will travel about, I suppose?" said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Have you thought of any one you can send?" asked our hero. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said Miss Sinclair. "He is rather young, but I shall try the + experiment." + </p> + <p> + "Do you mean me?" asked Ben quickly. + </p> + <p> + "Yes; are you willing to be my agent in the matter?" + </p> + <p> + "I should like it of all things," said Ben, with sparkling eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Then you may consider yourself engaged. The details we will discuss + presently." + </p> + <p> + "And where will you stay, Cousin Ida?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That is an excellent plan," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "So I think." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "That's the Bella Union, my chicken." + </p> + <p> + "I don't know any better now." + </p> + <p> + "Just go in there with a pocketful of gold-dust, like I did, and you'll + find out, I reckon." + </p> + <p> + "Is it a gambling-house?" inquired Ben, rather excited, for he had heard + much of such places, but never seen one. + </p> + <p> + "It's the devil's den," said the man bitterly. "I wish I'd never seen it." + </p> + <p> + "Have you been unlucky?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Did you lose it there?" asked Ben, somewhat startled. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I staked it, and it's gone." + </p> + <p> + "Have you nothing left?" + </p> + <p> + "Not an ounce. I haven't enough to pay for a bed." + </p> + <p> + "What will you do for a place to sleep?" inquired Ben, to whom this seemed + an alarming state of things. + </p> + <p> + The stranger shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + "I don't worry about that," he said. "I'll stretch myself out somewhere + when night comes. I'm used to roughing it." + </p> + <p> + "Won't you get cold sleeping out of doors?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + The other gave a short, quick laugh. + </p> + <p> + "What do you take me for, boy? I don't look delicate, do I?" + </p> + <p> + "Not very," answered Ben, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "I've slept out under the stars pretty reg'lar for the past six months. I + only wish I was back to the mines." + </p> + <p> + "Do you think I can go in?" Ben said hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "You don't think I'd gamble, do you?" said Ben, horror-struck. + </p> + <p> + "I've seen youngsters smaller than you bet their pile." + </p> + <p> + "You won't catch me doing it. I am a poor boy, and have nothing to lose." + </p> + <p> + "All right, then. You're a country boy, ain't you?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "You're not very old yet," said Ben, in a tone of sympathy. "Why don't you + reform?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, sir." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I suppose a good deal of money is won here?" said Ben, looking around + curiously. + </p> + <p> + "There's a good deal lost," said Ben's new acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I don't care if I do," said Ben's companion, with alacrity, and he named + his drink. + </p> + <p> + "What'll the boy have?" + </p> + <p> + "Nothing, thank you," answered Ben, startled, + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That's so," assented the young man, taking the remark as a compliment. + "Well, here's to you!" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I mean to," said Ben firmly. "Do people drink much out here?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Are there no temperance societies out here?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + The miner laughed. + </p> + <p> + "It's my belief that a temperance lecturer would be mobbed, or hung to the + nearest lamppost," he answered. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What's your name, boy?" asked the miner abruptly. + </p> + <p> + "Ben Stanton." + </p> + <p> + "Where were you raised?" + </p> + <p> + Though the term was a new one to Ben, he could not fail to understand it. + </p> + <p> + "In the State of Connecticut." + </p> + <p> + "That's where they make wooden nutmegs," said the miner, "isn't it?" + </p> + <p> + "I never saw any made there," answered Ben, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "I reckon you've come out here to make your fortin?" + </p> + <p> + "I should like to," answered Ben; "but I shall be satisfied if I make a + living, and a little more." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "Where'll you go first?—to the mines, I reckon." + </p> + <p> + "Yes," answered Ben, reflecting that he would be most likely to find + Richard Dewey at some mining-settlement. + </p> + <p> + "Ef I hadn't been a fool, and lost all my money, I'd go along with you." + </p> + <p> + "I should like the company of some one who had already been at the mines," + said Ben. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Did you ever meet a man named Dewey at the mines?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "Friend of yours?" + </p> + <p> + "No; I never saw him, but I have promised to hunt him up. I have some + important news for him." + </p> + <p> + "Dewey!" mused the miner. "Somehow that name sounds familiar like. Can you + tell what he was like?" + </p> + <p> + "I never saw him, but I can get a description of him." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That must be the man I am after," said Ben eagerly. "Do you think he is + at Murphy's now?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "How far is Murphy's from here?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "Two hundred miles, I reckon." + </p> + <p> + "Then I'd better go there first." + </p> + <p> + "Not ef you want to find gold. There's other places that's better, and not + so far away." + </p> + <p> + "It may be so, but I care more to find Richard Dewey than to find gold in + plenty." + </p> + <p> + "You said he wasn't a friend of yours?" said the miner, in some surprise. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Has Dewey come into a fortin?" asked the miner. "Has a rich uncle died + and left him all his pile?" + </p> + <p> + "Not that I know of," answered Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What is that?" + </p> + <p> + "Why does the gal-if it is a gal-send a boy like you on the trail?" + </p> + <p> + "Suppose there was no one else to send," suggested Ben. + </p> + <p> + "That makes it a little plainer. Where is the gal?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Here in San Francisco," he answered. "I cannot tell you more until I have + her permission." + </p> + <p> + "That's all right. Ef I can help you, I will, Ben. You said your name was + Ben?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Neither father nor mother," answered Ben sadly. + </p> + <p> + "That's bad," said the miner, with rough sympathy. "You're a young chap to + be left alone in the world." + </p> + <p> + "Yes; I do feel very lonely sometimes, Mr. Bradley." + </p> + <p> + "Don't call me Mr. Bradley. I ain't used to it. Call me Jake." + </p> + <p> + "All right, I'll remember it. Where can I meet you again, Jake?" + </p> + <p> + "Here will do as well as anywhere." + </p> + <p> + "Will you be here to-morrow morning at nine o'clock?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," answered Bradley. "I'll ask the porter to call me early," he added, + with rough humor. + </p> + <p> + Ben remembered that his new acquaintance had no money to pay for a night's + lodging, and would be forced to sleep out. + </p> + <p> + "Can't I lend you enough money to pay for a lodging?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Ben, have you seen the whole town so soon?" asked Miss Sinclair, + looking up from her trunk, which she was unpacking. + </p> + <p> + "No, Cousin Ida, but I think I have learned something of Mr. Dewey." + </p> + <p> + "You have not seen him?" asked Miss Sinclair quickly. + </p> + <p> + "No, I have not seen him, but I have seen a man who met him nearly a year + since at the mines." + </p> + <p> + "Tell me about it, Ben," said the young lady. "Where was it that this man + saw Richard-Mr. Dewey?" + </p> + <p> + "At Murphy's." + </p> + <p> + "Where is that?" + </p> + <p> + "Two hundred miles away." + </p> + <p> + "That is not far. Are you willing to go there?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "At any rate, you may learn something of him there." + </p> + <p> + "That is true." + </p> + <p> + "Will this man go with you?" + </p> + <p> + "He would, but he has no money to get out of the city." + </p> + <p> + "I will pay his expenses as far as Murphy's, and farther, if he is likely + to prove of service." + </p> + <p> + "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-" + </p> + <p> + "It is much better that you should have company." + </p> + <p> + "It will cost you a good deal of money, Cousin Ida." + </p> + <p> + "I shall not grudge a large sum, if need be, to find Richard. When can you + see this man again?" + </p> + <p> + "To-morrow morning." + </p> + <p> + "Bring him here, and I will make arrangements with him." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. — PRELIMINARY ARRANGEMENTS. + </h2> + <p> + At nine o'clock on the following morning Ben found Jake Bradley at the + appointed rendezvous. + </p> + <p> + "You're on time, my lad," said Jake. "I didn't know as you'd think it + worth while to look me up." + </p> + <p> + "I promised," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "And you've kept your promise. That's more'n many a man would do." + </p> + <p> + "How did you pass the night?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + "I stretched out on the soft side of a board. It isn't the first time. I + slept like a top." + </p> + <p> + "Have you had breakfast?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Where is the saloon?" said Ben. "We will go there, and while you are + eating we can arrange our business." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, boy. I ain't above acceptin' a favor of you, and I allow that + I'm empty, and need fillin' up." + </p> + <p> + "You needn't thank me, Mr. Bradley-" + </p> + <p> + "Jake!" + </p> + <p> + "Jake, then. I am only acting as the agent of Miss Sinclair." + </p> + <p> + "The gal you spoke of?" + </p> + <p> + Ben nodded. + </p> + <p> + "Then you can thank her. If there's anything I kin do for her, jest let me + know." + </p> + <p> + "I mean to. That is the business I want to speak to you about." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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-" + </p> + <p> + "You are entirely welcome, Mr. Bradley," said the young lady. "Ben tells + me that you know something of Richard Dewey." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, miss." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "No, miss." + </p> + <p> + "When did you see him?" + </p> + <p> + "Nigh on to a year ago." + </p> + <p> + "That is a long time. You have heard nothing of him since?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That is something. Do you think you could find him?" + </p> + <p> + "I could try, miss," + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I should know him ag'in if I met him." + </p> + <p> + "How did he seem when you knew him?" asked Ida, hesitating, because + conscious that the question was vaguely expressed and might not be + understood. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "They were very greatly mistaken," said Ida hastily. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That was like Richard," said Ida softly. "He was always kind-hearted." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "I hope so, Mr. Bradley." + </p> + <p> + Bradley eyed Ben reproachfully, and our hero at once smilingly corrected + himself. "I mean Jake." + </p> + <p> + "That suits me better. I s'pose the young lady wouldn't like to call me + Jake?" + </p> + <p> + "I think not," said Ida, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "I ain't used to bein' called mister. The boys always called me Jake." + </p> + <p> + "But I am not one of the boys, Mr. Bradley," said Miss Sinclair. + </p> + <p> + "Right you are, miss, and I reckon Richard Dewey would rather have you as + you are." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ben looked surprised. He had forgotten that Ida Sinclair was only assumed + to elude the vigilance of her guardian. + </p> + <p> + "My real name is Florence Douglas. I am of Scotch descent, as you will + judge. Can you remember the name?" + </p> + <p> + "I can, Cousin Ida-I mean Cousin Florence," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Then let Ida Sinclair be forgotten. Richard—Mr. Dewey-would not + know me by that name." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "She's been a kind friend to me, Jake. I hope we can find Mr. Dewey for + her." + </p> + <p> + "We'll find him if he's in California," answered Jake. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. — THE CANON HOTEL. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Ben," said Bradley, "what do you say to camping out for the night?" + </p> + <p> + "I have no objection," said Ben, "and I don't think my horse has." + </p> + <p> + "He is better off than mine, having less to carry. Are you tired?" + </p> + <p> + "Not very tired, but my limbs are rather stiff." + </p> + <p> + "What hotel shall we put up at, Ben?" asked Bradley, with a humorous + glance about him. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That's about so, Ben," assented Bradley, laughing. "I shouldn't mind + sleeping in a Christian bed to-night myself. Well, here goes!" + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, he jumped from the back of his horse, and, taking out a rope, + tethered it to a tree hard by. + </p> + <p> + Ben followed his example. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "I've got a healthy appetite myself, Jake." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "You are right, Jake! but please don't speak of it again. It makes my + mouth water." + </p> + <p> + "Stay here a few minutes, Ben, and I'll reconnoiter a little. Perhaps I + can find a better place for campin'." + </p> + <p> + "All right, Jake!" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Ben's reverie was broken in upon by the return of his companion. + </p> + <p> + "What are you dreamin' about, Ben?" queried Jake. + </p> + <p> + "I was thinking about home, Jake." + </p> + <p> + "This don't look much like it, eh, Ben?" + </p> + <p> + "Not much." + </p> + <p> + "Well, my lad, I've found something," continued Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "Found something? What! a nugget?" exclaimed Ben, in excitement. + </p> + <p> + "Not much. This ain't the place for such a find as that." + </p> + <p> + "What, then, Jake?" + </p> + <p> + "I've found a hotel." + </p> + <p> + "Where?" asked Ben eagerly. + </p> + <p> + "Get up and stand by me. There! look yonder. What do you see?" + </p> + <p> + "It looks like smoke." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Splendid, Jake!" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. — A POLITE HOSTESS. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + A woman, tall, spare, and with harsh features, came to the door. She eyed + Bradley askance. + </p> + <p> + "Well, what's wanted, and who are you?" she demanded. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "We don't take in tramps," said the woman roughly. + </p> + <p> + "We're on a tramp," said Bradley, resolved not to be rebuffed, "but we've + got money to pay for our accommodations." + </p> + <p> + "This ain't a hotel," said the woman, but less roughly. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't know what my husband will say," returned the woman, in an + undecided manner. + </p> + <p> + "Won't you ask him, ma'am?" + </p> + <p> + "He's gone out just now. He won't be back for an hour." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I can give you coffee," answered the woman. "My husband likes it, and we + always keep it on hand." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Bradley and Ben threw themselves on the ground near-by, and awaited with + complacence the call to supper. + </p> + <p> + "We're in luck, Ben," said his companion. "Who'd have expected a hot + supper out here in this lonely place?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't much like the looks of our landlady, Jake," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "W'on't she give us breakfast in the morning?" + </p> + <p> + "I didn't think of that. Maybe she will, and that'll be a good start on + our to-morrow's journey." + </p> + <p> + In about three-quarters of an hour the woman came to the door, and called + the travelers in to supper. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Ben tasted the meat, and it evidently puzzled him. In taste it differed + from anything he had eaten before. + </p> + <p> + Bradley smiled at his perplexity. + </p> + <p> + "Don't you know what it is, Ben?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "No." + </p> + <p> + "Do you like it?" + </p> + <p> + "I am hungry enough to enjoy anything." + </p> + <p> + "Well, lad, it's bear steak." + </p> + <p> + "Bear steak!" repeated Ben, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "It isn't bad," said Ben meditatively. + </p> + <p> + During this conversation the landlady had been out of the room. As it + concluded, she reentered. + </p> + <p> + "Your supper is good, ma'am," said Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "Now if you only had a cow to supply you with milk and butter, you'd be + fixed complete." + </p> + <p> + "If you want 'em you'll have to go somewhere else," said the woman. + </p> + <p> + "Excuse me, ma'am. I wasn't complainin' of the fare-not by no means. I was + only thinkin' of you." + </p> + <p> + "There's no call to think of me, stranger." + </p> + <p> + "Have you lived long in these parts, ma'am?" inquired Bradley socially. + </p> + <p> + "Fools ask questions, and fools answer them. I ain't a fool," responded + the polite hostess. + </p> + <p> + "Excuse my curiosity, ma'am. I didn't know that it would be disagreeable + to you to answer." + </p> + <p> + "Who told you it was?" + </p> + <p> + "I thought from your way of speakin'." + </p> + <p> + "It's none of your business, that's all," said the hostess. + </p> + <p> + Even Bradley was silenced. It was clear that their hostess was not + inclined to be social. The remainder of the meal passed in silence. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. — A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "It's a pity you don't smoke, Ben," he said, his face expressing the + satisfaction he felt. + </p> + <p> + "Would you advise me to, Jake?" questioned our hero. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I feel comfortable without it, Jake." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + He stopped short when he caught sight of the two travelers. + </p> + <p> + "Who are you?" he asked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + The newcomer glanced toward the door of the cabin, at which the woman now + made her appearance. + </p> + <p> + "Givin' you some supper, eh? I hope she's saved some for me." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Well, stir round, old gal, and get me something to eat, for I'm dead + hungry." + </p> + <p> + "Supper is ready now, Jack." + </p> + <p> + The man entered his cabin, and the next twenty minutes were consumed in + repairing the ravages of hunger. + </p> + <p> + "How do you like his looks, Jake?" asked Ben, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I'll tell you what he reminds me of, Jake. Did you ever read 'Oliver + Twist'?" + </p> + <p> + "All of a Twist? That's a queer name. What is it?" + </p> + <p> + "It's a story by Dickens. He describes a brutal villain, named Bill Sykes, + who murders his wife." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That's so. They seem pretty well matched." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Traveled fur to-day?" he inquired. + </p> + <p> + "About thirty miles, as near as I can guess," said Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "Is that your boy?" + </p> + <p> + "No, he's no kin to me. We're travelin' together-that's all." + </p> + <p> + "Goin' to the mines?" + </p> + <p> + "We are goin' to Murphy's." + </p> + <p> + "Come from 'Frisco?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + The proprietor of the cabin at this reply fixed his eyes reflectively upon + Ben and his companion. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Don't you find it lonely livin' out here?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + Jack Carter shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Are there any mines near-by?" asked Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "Not very." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Have you lived here long?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "Quite a while." + </p> + <p> + It was clear that Jack did not care to answer definitely, and was disposed + to give as little information as possible about himself. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "If you haven't got room for us to sleep," he said, "Ben and I will camp + out, as we have done before." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you." + </p> + <p> + "Wait here, and I'll see if the bed's ready." + </p> + <p> + He entered the cabin, probably to consult with his wife. + </p> + <p> + "I don't know why it is, Ben," said Bradley, in a low voice, "but I + mistrust that man." + </p> + <p> + "Don't you think it safe to sleep here?" asked Ben gravely. + </p> + <p> + "I think if we are prudent we shall keep a careful watch over our host and + hostess; they may mean us harm." + </p> + <p> + "What motive would they have for harming us, Jake?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Do you judge from his looks?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What shall we do?" asked Ben, a little startled by his companion's + suggestion. + </p> + <p> + "That's more than I can tell you, Ben." + </p> + <p> + "We might camp out." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Jack Carter had in his hand a bottle and a tin mug. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, he poured out a liberal mug of wine and offered it to + Bradley. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + And he drained the mug. + </p> + <p> + Jack Carter filled it again, and passed it to Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Take a drink, boy," he said. "It will make you feel good." + </p> + <p> + "No, thank you," said Ben politely. + </p> + <p> + "What's the matter?" asked Jack, frowning. "Why won't you drink?" + </p> + <p> + "I never drink," answered Ben. "I promised my father I wouldn't, and I + can't break my word." + </p> + <p> + "This wine is weak. It wouldn't hurt a baby." + </p> + <p> + "I would rather not drink," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Ain't you goin' a little too fur, Ben?" remonstrated Bradley. "Your + father meant rum and whisky and sich. He wouldn't mind wine." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "It's blasted nonsense!" exclaimed Jack angrily. "The boy's puttin' on + airs, that's what's the matter." + </p> + <p> + "He's a good boy," said Bradley. "You don't know him as well as I do." + </p> + <p> + "Jest as you say," muttered Jack, in a dissatisfied tone. "If you want to + go to bed now, you can." + </p> + <p> + "I'm ready, for one," said Bradley, rising with, alacrity. "I'm powerful + sleepy." + </p> + <p> + "Come in, then." + </p> + <p> + They followed their host into the cabin. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. — A TIGHT PLACE. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "You're to sleep up there," said Jack, pointing to the loft. "Me and the + old woman sleep below." + </p> + <p> + "All right," said Bradley, gaping. "I can sleep anywhere to-night. I'm + powerful sleepy." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I am tired, but not sleepy," returned Ben. + </p> + <p> + "I won't undress, either. I can sleep just as well in my clothes." + </p> + <p> + Scarcely a minute had passed when Bradley was breathing in the + unconsciousness of slumber. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "The man seems strong," replied the wife. "You may not find it an easy + task to master him." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "But the boy-he took no wine." + </p> + <p> + "No; he's one of them temperance sneaks. But he's only a baby. I could lay + him out with one hand." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Don't be silly! Because we had a boy once, mustn't interfere with + business." + </p> + <p> + "But you won't hurt him, Jack?" pleaded the woman, who, hard as she + seemed, appeared to have a soft side to her nature. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "In the morning they will discover that they have been robbed. What will + you say to them?" + </p> + <p> + "Tell them it's none of my business; that I know nothing about it." + </p> + <p> + "But if the boy is awake, and sees you at work, Jack?" + </p> + <p> + "Then it will be different. It would have been better for him to have + taken the wine." + </p> + <p> + "Do you think he suspected anything?" + </p> + <p> + "No; how could he suspect that the wine was drugged? He is one of them + temperance sneaks, I tell you." + </p> + <p> + "How soon are you going up, Jack?" + </p> + <p> + "In half an hour. I want to give the boy time enough to get asleep. That + will make matters easy." + </p> + <p> + "Don't you think I had better go up, Jack?" + </p> + <p> + "Why should you? Why should I let a woman do my work?" + </p> + <p> + "Then I should know the boy would receive no harm." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, that's it, is it? You make a great fuss about the boy." + </p> + <p> + "Yes; I can't help thinking about my own boy." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Never, Jack, never!" exclaimed his wife fervently. + </p> + <p> + "Hello! what's that?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What's up now, old woman? You haven't been attending Sunday-school + lately, have you?" demanded Jack, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + "I did once, Jack, and I haven't quite forgotten what I learned there, + though it don't look like it now." + </p> + <p> + "Are you going back on me?" demanded Jack fiercely. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Ben felt that he was in a tight place, and he was not quite certain what + he should or could do. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. — AN EVENING CALL. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The question recurred to Ben: Was he willing to surrender his money, and + go forth penniless, or should he attempt to escape or resist? + </p> + <p> + "If Jake would only wake up!" he thought, surveying, with perplexity, the + recumbent form at his side. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + In this way he might possibly gain time. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What are you about there, boy?" he demanded roughly. + </p> + <p> + Ben turned, and said composedly: "I am looking out." + </p> + <p> + "Why are you not in bed and asleep, like your friend?" + </p> + <p> + "I tried to sleep, sir, but I couldn't." + </p> + <p> + "Do you expect to get to sleep looking out of that hole?" + </p> + <p> + "I thought I'd see how light it was." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I beg pardon if I disturbed you," said Ben politely. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "All right, sir," said Ben submissively. + </p> + <p> + "What's the name of that chap that's with you?" continued Jack. + </p> + <p> + "It's Jake Bradley." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I think you're right, sir. I'll lie down and go to sleep." + </p> + <p> + "You'd better. Me and the old woman can't be kept awake all night." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. — BEN'S MIDNIGHT EXCURSION. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Under this change of circumstances, what was Ben to do? + </p> + <p> + This was the question which he anxiously asked himself. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + No sooner did the idea occur to Ben than he prepared to carry it out. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Now," thought Ben, "I must do my work as quickly as I can." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + With a deep breath of relief, Ben opened the door, passed out, and closed + it softly after him. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "There!" said he, "our treasure is much safer there than it would be in + our possession, for to-night, at least." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I shall remember it now," he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + It was fortunate for him that Ben had been more wakeful. + </p> + <p> + "I shall be glad enough to sleep now," thought Ben. "I don't know when I + have felt more tired." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Ben threw himself down beside him with a deep sigh of satisfaction, and in + ten minutes he, too, was sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. — A THIEF'S DISAPPOINTMENT. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Jack stretched himself negligently, but all at once his purpose flashed + upon him. + </p> + <p> + "Bess, what time is it?" he demanded. + </p> + <p> + "Past six o'clock, as you can see by the sun." + </p> + <p> + "Curse it! what made me fall asleep?" ejaculated Jack, with an oath. "Now + it may be too late." + </p> + <p> + "How long have you been awake, Bess?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "An hour or more." + </p> + <p> + "Why didn't you wake me up?" demanded Jack sharply. + </p> + <p> + "I didn't know you wanted me to," answered his wife. "Only yesterday you + swore at me for waking you up an hour later." + </p> + <p> + "Yesterday isn't to-day, and I had something to do," said Jack, looking + significantly upward. + </p> + <p> + "Didn't you attend to it last night?" + </p> + <p> + "No; curse my drowsiness! I fell asleep like a natural-born fool that I + was." + </p> + <p> + "How could I know that? I was asleep myself." + </p> + <p> + "You always have some excuse," said Jack, rather unreasonably. "Just quit + movin' round and makin' a noise. It may not be too late yet." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + But he was destined to disappointment. The most thorough search brought to + light only five dollars in gold. + </p> + <p> + "What has he done with his money?" muttered the thief, with a frown. "Of + course, he must have more." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The second search proved no more satisfactory than the first. The boy was + no richer than the man. + </p> + <p> + In a low voice Jack indulged in an oath indicating his deep disgust. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + He coolly pocketed the two gold pieces, which were all he had been able to + find, and sullenly descended the ladder. + </p> + <p> + His wife looked at him inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + "Look at that!" he said grumblingly, as he displayed the two gold pieces. + </p> + <p> + "Was it all you could find?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "They must be poor." + </p> + <p> + "Poor! They are beggars." + </p> + <p> + The woman, who was not as hard as she looked, was struck with compassion. + </p> + <p> + "Give it back to them, Jack," she entreated. "It is little enough, and + they will have need of it." + </p> + <p> + "So do I have need of it," growled her lord and master. + </p> + <p> + "No, you don't, Jack. It isn't worth your taking." + </p> + <p> + "I'm the best judge of that, woman." + </p> + <p> + "They will suffer. I can't bear to have that boy suffer. He reminds me so + of our dead son." + </p> + <p> + "You're a fool!" said her husband roughly. + </p> + <p> + "And you have no heart!" said his wife bitterly. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What shall I say if they ask me where it is, Jack?" + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "They will think we did it," persisted his wife. + </p> + <p> + "Let them. They can't prove anything. Just hurry up that breakfast, I tell + you." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + He shouldered his gun and went out into the woods. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. — BEN'S SAVINGS-BANK. + </h2> + <p> + It was not till an hour afterward that Ben rose from his lowly couch, and, + by dint of violent shaking, succeeded in rousing Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "Come, Bradley, wake up!" he cried. "The sun is high, and it is time we + were on our way." + </p> + <p> + Bradley stretched himself, took a long breath, and said: + </p> + <p> + "I must have had a long sleep." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, you dropped off as soon as you lay down, and have slept ever since." + </p> + <p> + "And did you sleep as soundly?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I was awake twice during the night," answered Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "The effects of the drug," thought Ben. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "But I had a hundred," said Bradley, feeling in his pockets. + </p> + <p> + "It's all right," whispered Ben. "I'll explain by and by. Not a word of + the loss till after breakfast." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The woman looked at them sharply, to see if they had yet discovered the + robbery, but each seemed unconcerned. + </p> + <p> + "They don't know it yet," she said to herself. + </p> + <p> + "Madam, can you give us some breakfast?" asked Ben politely. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "That will be perfectly satisfactory, and we shall be much obliged to + you." + </p> + <p> + The breakfast was nearly ready in anticipation of their needs, and they + partook of it heartily. + </p> + <p> + Now came the critical moment. + </p> + <p> + Ben thrust his hand into his pocket, appearing to search for his money, + and, after a brief space, withdrew it in apparent dismay. + </p> + <p> + "I can't find my money," he said. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Carter's face flushed, but she said nothing. She anticipated their + suspicion, and was ashamed. + </p> + <p> + "Bradley," said Ben, "have you your money?" + </p> + <p> + Jake Bradley repeated the search, and he, too, expressed surprise. + </p> + <p> + "I had it when I went to bed," he added. + </p> + <p> + "What is it?" asked the woman slowly, turning to them a troubled face. + "Have you lost anything?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't seem to find my money, ma'am," answered Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "Nor I mine," said Ben. "It's curious." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Not much, ma'am. There wasn't much to take." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Did you have much taken, ma'am?" asked Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "No," she answered hurriedly, rather ashamed of the imposture. "We ain't + rich, Jack nor I." + </p> + <p> + "What I am most sorry for," said Ben, "is that we have nothing to pay for + our accommodations." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, ma'am, it will be very acceptable," answered Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "She's better than her husband," thought Ben. + </p> + <p> + "After all, we haven't lost much, for we shall get nearly the worth of our + lost money." + </p> + <p> + The woman remarked, with some surprise, that they did not take their loss + much to heart. + </p> + <p> + "How do you expect to get along without money?" she could not help asking. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + By this time luncheon was ready, and they soon left the cabin. + </p> + <p> + Bradley could no longer repress his curiosity. + </p> + <p> + "Now, Ben, tell me all about it," he said. "Where is our money?" + </p> + <p> + Ben looked back, to make sure that he would not be overheard, and + answered: "I put it in the bank for security, Jake." + </p> + <p> + "What do you mean?" + </p> + <p> + "If I am not very much mistaken, we shall find it hidden in a hole in a + tree, quarter of a mile away." + </p> + <p> + "Who put it there?" asked his companion, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + "I did." + </p> + <p> + "When?" + </p> + <p> + "Last night, about midnight, as near as I can guess." + </p> + <p> + Ben laughed at his companion's evident perplexity, and told him in detail + the story of the night's adventure. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "There's no fear of that," said Ben. "Do you see that tree yonder?" + </p> + <p> + "The large one?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "That is my savings-bank." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Now," said Ben, "I will give you ninety-five dollars. That is the amount + of which I picked your pocket last night." + </p> + <p> + "You are a pickpocket of the right sort," said his companion. "You took my + money in order to save it." + </p> + <p> + Their money recovered, they started on their day's march, and nightfall + found them twenty miles nearer their destination. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. — THE ARRIVAL AT MURPHY'S. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "So this is Murphy's?" said Ben, rather disappointed. "It doesn't seem to + be much of a place." + </p> + <p> + "You didn't expect to see a regular town, did you?" asked Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "I don't know. I hardly knew what to expect. It seems a rough place." + </p> + <p> + "And I suppose the people seem rough, too?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "And were they dressed like these men here?" asked Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Quite as roughly. It won't do to wear store-clothes at the mines." + </p> + <p> + "No, I suppose not; but these men look like immigrants just come over." + </p> + <p> + Bradley laughed. + </p> + <p> + "Wait till we have been at work a little while, and we shall look no + better," he said, laughing. + </p> + <p> + "What is that?" asked Ben suddenly, stopping short while an expression of + horror came over his face. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I reckon that's a thief," answered Bradley unconcernedly. + </p> + <p> + "A thief! Do they hang people for stealing out here?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "It's horrible!" said Ben, who had never before seen the victim of a + violent death. + </p> + <p> + "Maybe it is, but what can we do?" + </p> + <p> + "Put him in prison," suggested Ben. + </p> + <p> + "There ain't any prisons, and, if there were, there would be nobody to + keep them." + </p> + <p> + Just then Bradley was hailed by a rough-looking man, whom at home Ben + would have taken for a tramp. + </p> + <p> + "What, Bradley, back again? I didn't expect to see you here?" + </p> + <p> + "I didn't expect to come, Hunter, but I fooled away my money in 'Frisco, + and have come back for more." + </p> + <p> + "And who's this boy-your son, or nephew?" + </p> + <p> + "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-" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Hunter smiled at the boy's evident surprise. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "How are you making out, Hunter?" asked Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "Pretty well. I have made more here in six months than I did by three + years' practise of law before I came out here." + </p> + <p> + "Do you like it as well, Mr. Hunter?" Ben could not help asking curiously. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps you'll be Judge Hunter, in time," said Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Yes; what did he do?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Did he rob anybody here?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes; you remember Johnson?" + </p> + <p> + "Is he still here?" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ben took another hasty look at the dangling criminal whose end had been so + sudden and horrible, and he shuddered. + </p> + <p> + "Why don't you take him down?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "You are a young gold-hunter," said Hunter, scanning over hero's youthful + face. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I am," Ben confessed; "but I had to earn a living, and I thought I + could do it better here than at home." + </p> + <p> + "Are you from the East?" + </p> + <p> + "I am from Hampton, in New York State." + </p> + <p> + "I know something of Hampton," said Hunter. "I have never been there; but + I have a distant relative living there." + </p> + <p> + "Who is it?" asked Ben, with interest. "I know everybody there." + </p> + <p> + "I dare say you know my relative, for I am given to understand that he is + the great man of Hampton." + </p> + <p> + "Mayor Sturgis?" + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "He is the richest man in Hampton." + </p> + <p> + "I suppose he is aware of that fact," said Hunter, laughing. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "And you objected, I suppose?" + </p> + <p> + "I wouldn't work for Sam Sturgis for a hundred dollars a month!" said Ben + emphatically. + </p> + <p> + "Then you don't like him?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + It was to Bradley this question was addressed. + </p> + <p> + "I don't know. I'm here on a little matter of business, along of this boy. + Is Richard Dewey here now?" + </p> + <p> + "Dewey? No. He had poor luck, and he dusted a month ago." + </p> + <p> + Ben and his companion exchanged glances of disappointment. + </p> + <p> + "Where did he go?" asked Bradley, who was evidently getting discouraged. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is there anybody that knows what direction he took?" + </p> + <p> + "My friend, the mayor, knows as well as any man. Dewey was his next + neighbor, and often talked over his plans with him." + </p> + <p> + "Then we will go and see the mayor." + </p> + <p> + "No need of going, here he comes." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. — AMONG THE SIERRAS. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Friends of yours, judge?" said the newcomer, speaking to Hunter, and + indicating by a nod Ben and his companion. + </p> + <p> + "You ought to know one of them, mayor," said Hunter. + </p> + <p> + "Why, it's Bradley," said the mayor, extending his hand cordially. "Glad + to see you back again." + </p> + <p> + Bradley shook hands, and introduced Ben. + </p> + <p> + "I'm told you can tell me where to find Richard Dewey, colonel," said + Bradley, employing another title of the mayor. + </p> + <p> + "I can't just say where he is," said the mayor; "but I can tell you where + he meant to go." + </p> + <p> + "That will help us." + </p> + <p> + "You don't mean him any harm?" asked the mayor quickly. + </p> + <p> + "Far from it. We have the best news for him." + </p> + <p> + "Because Dick Dewey is a friend of mine, and I wouldn't bring him into + trouble for the richest claim in Californy." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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-" + </p> + <p> + "That won't matter when them two meet," said Bradley. "She's better than + any claim he can find this side the mountains." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "That will come by and by," he thought to himself. "We must find Cousin + Ida's beau, and then we can attend to business." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + A week later we will look in upon them toward nightfall. They were among + the mountains now. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Bradley took out his supply of gold, and surveyed it ruefully. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I wonder if we can't catch some trout," he said. "Don't they have trout + in these mountains?" + </p> + <p> + "To be sure they do; and the best in the world," said Bradley briskly. + "The California mountain trout can't be beat." + </p> + <p> + "But we have no fishing-tackle," suggested Ben. + </p> + <p> + "Never mind, we have our guns." + </p> + <p> + "How will that help us?" + </p> + <p> + "We can shoot them, to be sure." + </p> + <p> + Ben looked surprised. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I can hardly wait to have them cooked," sard Ben. "I'm as hungry as a + hunter. I understand what that means now." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + They gathered some dry sticks, and soon a fire was blazing, which, in the + cool night air, sent out a welcome heat. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What are you thinking about, Ben?" asked Bradley, after a long pause. + </p> + <p> + "I was thinking how strange it seems to be out here among the mountains," + answered Ben, still gazing on the scenery around him. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I mean it is strange to think we are so far away from everybody." + </p> + <p> + "I don't foller you, Ben. I suppose it's sorter lonelylike, but that ain't + new to me." + </p> + <p> + "I never realized how big the world was when I lived at home," said Ben, + in a slow, thoughtful way. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, it's a pretty largish place, that's a fact." + </p> + <p> + "What were you thinking of, Jake?" asked Ben, in his turn. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That don't trouble me much, Jake," said Ben, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + "It's the next thing to a good supper, Ben," said Bradley; "but I might as + well wish for the moon." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What was it you was a-wishin' for, friend?" asked an unfamiliar voice. + </p> + <p> + Bradley sprang to his feet, and Ben followed suit. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Who are you?" asked Bradley doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Just what I was wantin'," said Bradley, delighted. "You're welcome, + whoever you are." + </p> + <p> + "Ben, can't you get together some sticks and light the fire? It's + coolish." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. — BEATEN AT HIS OWN GAME. + </h2> + <p> + Bradley was of a social disposition, and even without the gift of tobacco + would have been glad of an addition to their small party. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Well onto a year," said the one who seemed the elder of the two. "How is + it with you, stranger?" + </p> + <p> + "I have been here about as long," answered Bradley. "Ben has only just + come out." + </p> + <p> + "What luck have you had?" pursued the questioner. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + '"What might your name be?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Isn't that so, Tom?" asked Bill Mosely, appealing to his friend. + </p> + <p> + "I should say so," answered Tom, nodding emphatically. + </p> + <p> + "You've seen me in a scrimmage more than once?" + </p> + <p> + "I should say I have." + </p> + <p> + "Did you ever see me shoot a man that riled me?" + </p> + <p> + "Dozens of times," returned Hadley, who appeared to play second fiddle to + his terrible companion. + </p> + <p> + "That's the kind of man I am," said Bill Mosely, in a tone of complacency. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "You did?" exclaimed Mosely uneasily. + </p> + <p> + "Of course I did; but I was rather sorry afterward when I heard that his + eyelids were weak and he couldn't help it." + </p> + <p> + "Did you get into any trouble about it, stranger?" asked Mosely, with a + shade of anxiety. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "No," said Mosely dubiously, and he drew a little farther away from + Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + Bill Mosely smacked his lips. + </p> + <p> + "Jest show me where I'll find some," he said. + </p> + <p> + Bradley pointed to the brook from which he had drawn his supply. + </p> + <p> + "I don't mind helping you," he said. "Ben, are you tired?" + </p> + <p> + "No, Jake." + </p> + <p> + "Then come along, and we'll try to get some supper for our friends." + </p> + <p> + "All right!" said Ben cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I hope you relished your supper, gentlemen," said Bradley politely. + </p> + <p> + "I should say we did," responded Tom Hadley. + </p> + <p> + "I say, them trout beat the world." + </p> + <p> + "I'll shoot the man that says they don't!" said Bill Mosely, relapsing + into his old tone. + </p> + <p> + "So will I!" exclaimed Bradley, springing to his feet and brandishing his + revolver. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I say, stranger, don't handle that weapon of yours so careless," said + Mosely uneasily. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "I reckon he'd rather you hadn't shot him," said Mosely dryly. + </p> + <p> + "I reckon you're right," said Bradley, with equanimity. "Such little + accidents will happen sometimes, Mosely. Somehow, you can't always help + it." + </p> + <p> + "It's best to be keerful," observed Mosely uneasily. + </p> + <p> + "I should say so," echoed his friend, Tom Hadley. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "If he'd insulted me," said Mosely hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + "Of course. Come, now, how many men have you killed, first and last?" + </p> + <p> + "About twenty, I should think," answered the bully, who seemed to grow + meeker and more peaceable as Bradley's apparent reckless ferocity + increased. + </p> + <p> + "Only twenty!" exclaimed Bradley contemptuously. "Why, that's nothing at + all!" + </p> + <p> + "How many have you killed?" asked Mosely uneasily. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Where was you raised, stranger?" asked Mosely. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "I should say so," responded Tom Hadley, using his customary formula. + </p> + <p> + "Are you in search of gold, Mosely?" asked Bradley, in a more quiet + manner. + </p> + <p> + "We're kinder prospectin' among the hills," answered Mosely. + </p> + <p> + "You haven't come across anything yet, have you?" + </p> + <p> + "Not yet. Have you?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "You've got one advantage of us, stranger. You've got hosses, and we've + had to walk." + </p> + <p> + "Why didn't you buy animals?" + </p> + <p> + "We did, but they were stolen from us a little way back." + </p> + <p> + "If our hosses should be stolen," said Bradley, "the thieves would die + within a week." + </p> + <p> + Mosely and his friend looked at each other in silence, and the + conversation languished. + </p> + <p> + "Ben," said Bradley, after the two visitors were fast asleep, "shall I + tell you what I think of these two men?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, Bradley?" + </p> + <p> + "They are thieves, and they meant to steal our hosses." + </p> + <p> + "Won't they do it now?" + </p> + <p> + Bradley laughed. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "How many men did you say you had killed, Jake?" asked Ben, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + "That was all talk. Thank Heaven, I haven't the blood of any fellow + creature on my hands!" + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. — THE HORSE-THIEVES. + </h2> + <p> + All four slept soundly, but the visitors awoke first. + </p> + <p> + "Are you awake, Tom?" inquired Mosely. + </p> + <p> + "I should say so," answered his friend. + </p> + <p> + Bill Mosely raised himself on his elbow and surveyed Ben and Bradley. + Their deep, tranquil breathing showed that they were sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + Mosely next glanced at the mustangs which were tethered near-by. + </p> + <p> + "Tom," said he, "I wish we had them mustangs. It's a deal easier ridin' + than walkin'." + </p> + <p> + "I should say so." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Hadley said nothing. His customary phrase would not apply, and he was a + man of few words, besides. + </p> + <p> + "What did he say he would do if a fellow stole his horses, Tom?" + </p> + <p> + "Said he'd die within a week," answered Had-ley, with unfailing memory. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "That depends on whether he caught him," he said, after a while, + hopefully. + </p> + <p> + "I should say so, Bill." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That's so, Bill." + </p> + <p> + "Anyway, if we don't take 'em we may be overtaken by the party that we + borrowed some gold-dust from." + </p> + <p> + Tom Hadley responded in his customary manner. + </p> + <p> + "And that would be mighty bad luck," continued Mosely, with a shudder. + </p> + <p> + "I should say so, Bill." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I've a great mind to carry off them mustangs," said Mosely thoughtfully. + "Are you with me?" + </p> + <p> + "I should say so." + </p> + <p> + "Why don't you ever say something else, Tom?" demanded Mosely impatiently. + </p> + <p> + "What do you want me to say?" asked Hadley, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + "Well, never mind; it's your way, I suppose, and I can rely upon you." + </p> + <p> + "I should say so." + </p> + <p> + Mosely shrugged his shoulders. It was clearly idle to expect any great + variety in Tom Hadley's conversation. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "I should say so, Bill," said Hadley, nodding. + </p> + <p> + "Then here goes." + </p> + <p> + In a few seconds they had loosened the mustangs and had sprung upon their + backs. + </p> + <p> + "Now, go!" exclaimed Mosely, in a energetic whisper. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. — WHAT NEXT? + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The robbers were quite five miles away when Ben opened his eyes. + </p> + <p> + He looked about him with sleepy eyes, and it was only by an effort that he + remembered the events of the previous evening. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "They've stolen the mustangs!" he said to himself, in genuine dismay, and + instantly seizing Bradley by the shoulder, shook him energetically. + </p> + <p> + "What's the matter, Ben?" demanded Bradley, in amazement. "You needn't be + quite so rough." + </p> + <p> + "It's time you were awake!" said Ben hurriedly. "Those fellows have stolen + our mustangs!" + </p> + <p> + "What's that you say?" ejaculated Bradley, now thoroughly awake. + </p> + <p> + "The mustangs are gone, and they are gone!" said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "When did you find it out?" + </p> + <p> + "Only just now. I was sleepy, and overslept myself." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "So it is, Jake. You thought they wouldn't dare to take anything." + </p> + <p> + "No more I thought they would. That Bill Mosely bragged so much I didn't + think he had enough pluck." + </p> + <p> + "Does it take much pluck to be a thief, Jake?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What's that?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Probably he thought there wouldn't be any chance of our catching him when + we were reduced to walk." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "What shall we do, Jake?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "We may come upon their track, and overtake them when they are not + expecting it." + </p> + <p> + "I wish we might," said Bradley, the lines about his mouth tightening. + "I'd give 'em a lesson." + </p> + <p> + "They are two men," said Ben thoughtfully, "and we are only a man and a + boy." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Jake, suppose we get some breakfast, and then consider what we will + do." + </p> + <p> + "That's a good thought, Ben. We can't do much on an empty stomach, that's + a fact." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. — KI SING. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Who have you got there, O'Reilly?" inquired one of his mining-comrades. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Where did you find him?" + </p> + <p> + "He was huntin' for gold, the haythen, jist for all the world as if he was + as white as you or I." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What's your name?" asked one. + </p> + <p> + The Chinaman gazed at the questioner vacantly. + </p> + <p> + "What's your name, you haythen?" repeated O'Reilly, emphasizing the + inquiry by a powerful shake. + </p> + <p> + "My name Ki Sing," answered the Mongolian nervously. + </p> + <p> + "Where did you come from, old pigtail?" + </p> + <p> + "My name Ki Sing, not Pigtail," said the Chinaman, not understanding the + meaning of the epithet. + </p> + <p> + This answer appeared to be regarded by the crowd as either witty or + absurd, for it elicited a roar of laughter. + </p> + <p> + "Never mind what your name is, old stick in the mud! We'll call you + whatever we please. Where do you come from?" + </p> + <p> + "Me come from 'Flisco." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What have you come here for, Cy King, or whatever your name is." + </p> + <p> + "My name Ki Sing." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "You bling me," answered Ki Sing shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + There was another laugh. + </p> + <p> + "That Chinee ain't no fool!" said Dick Roberts. + </p> + <p> + "What made you leave China?" he asked. + </p> + <p> + "Me come to Amelica fol gold." + </p> + <p> + "Hi, ho! That's it, is it? What are you going to do with your gold when + you find it?" + </p> + <p> + "Cally it back to China." + </p> + <p> + "And when you've callied it back, what'll you do then?" + </p> + <p> + "Me mally wife, have good time and plenty money to buy lice." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I say, John," said Dick Roberts, "are you fond of rat pie?" + </p> + <p> + "Lat pie velly good," returned Ki Sing, with a look of appreciation. + "Melican man like him?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Chlistian! Ma don't know Ghlistian," said the Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + "Then look at O'Reilly," said Dick Roberts, mischievously. "He's a good + solid Christian." + </p> + <p> + 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?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, John. Wouldn't you like to be one?" + </p> + <p> + Ki Sing shook his head decidedly. + </p> + <p> + "Me no want to be Chlistian," he answered. "Me velly well now. Me want to + be good Chinaman." + </p> + <p> + "There's a compliment for you, O'Reilly," said one of the miners. "John + prefers to be a Chinaman to being like you." + </p> + <p> + "He's a barbarious haythen, anyhow," said O'Reilly, surveying his prisoner + with unfriendly eyes. "What did he come over to America for, anyhow?" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "And what's that?" demanded O'Reilly angrily. + </p> + <p> + "To make a living," answered Richard Dewey quietly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + O'Reilly did not fancy his interference, and demanded, in a surly tone: + </p> + <p> + "Do you mean to compare me wid this haythen?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "And hadn't I the right, I'd like to know?" blustered O'Reilly. + </p> + <p> + "To be sure you had. This country is free to all who wish to make a home + here." + </p> + <p> + "Then what are you talkin' about, anyway?" + </p> + <p> + "You ought to be able to understand without asking. Ki Sing has come here, + and has the same right that you have." + </p> + <p> + "Do you mane to put me on a livel wid him?" + </p> + <p> + "In that one respect, I do." + </p> + <p> + "I want you to understand that Patrick O'Reilly won't take no insults from + you, nor any other man!" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ki Sing grasped at this suggestion. + </p> + <p> + "Melican man speak velly good," he said. + </p> + <p> + "Of course, you think so," sneered O'Reilly. "I say, boys, let's cut off + his pigtail," touching the poor Chinaman's queue. + </p> + <p> + Ki Sing uttered a cry of dismay as O'Reilly's suggestion was greeted with + favorable shouts by the thoughtless crowd. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. — THE DUEL OF THE MINERS. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Has anybody got a pair of scissors?" asked O'Reilly, taking the Chinaman + by the queue. + </p> + <p> + "I've got one in my tent," answered one of the miners. + </p> + <p> + "Go and get it, then." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + He had one friend, however, among the rough men who surrounded him, the + same who had already taken his part. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What do you mean to do, O'Reilly?" he demanded sternly. + </p> + <p> + "None of your business!" retorted O'Reilly insolently. + </p> + <p> + "It is going to be my business. What do you mean to do?" + </p> + <p> + "Gut off this haythen's pigtail, and I'd just like to know who's going to + prevent me." + </p> + <p> + At this moment the miner who had gone for a pair of scissors returned. + </p> + <p> + "Give me them scissors!" said O'Reilly sharply. + </p> + <p> + Richard Dewey reached out his hand and intercepted them. He took them in + place of O'Reilly. + </p> + <p> + "Give me them scissors, Dewey, or it'll be the worse for you!" exclaimed + the tyrant furiously. + </p> + <p> + Dewey regarded him with a look of unmistakable contempt. + </p> + <p> + There was a murmur among the miners, who were eager for the amusement + which the Chinaman's terror and ineffectual struggles would afford them. + </p> + <p> + "Give him the scissors, Dewey!" said half a dozen. + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Of course not," chimed in several of the miners. + </p> + <p> + "Do you hear that, Dick Dewey?" demanded O'Reilly impatiently. "Do you + hear what the boys say? Give me them scissors." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is that the law, squire?" asked a loose-jointed Yankee. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, it is. You may rely on my word. Ki Sing, if you cut off your queue, + can you go back to China?" + </p> + <p> + "No go back-stay in Melica allee time." + </p> + <p> + "You see he confirms my statement." + </p> + <p> + "That's a queer law, anyway," said the Kentuckian. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "That's so! Dewey is right. Let him go, O'Reilly!" said the crowd. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + O'Reilly was no coward, and he possessed the national love of a shindy. He + sprang to his feet in a rage, and shouted: + </p> + <p> + "I'll murder ye for that, Dick Dewey! See if I don't!" + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + Richard Dewey looked rather disgusted. + </p> + <p> + "I don't want to fight, boys," he said. "It isn't to my taste." + </p> + <p> + "You've got to, you coward!" said O'Reilly, beginning to bluster. + </p> + <p> + "I don't think you'll find me a coward," said Dewey quietly, as he stood + with his arms folded, looking at O'Reilly. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Will it be any satisfaction to him to get knocked over again?" asked + Dewey, shrugging his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Form a ring, boys!" exclaimed the Kentuck-ian. "We'll see there's fair + play." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, yes, it is agreed!" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "No, Cy King, we can't let you go jest yet," said Taylor. "We're goin' to + see this thing through first." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "It's no use, O'Reilly!" exclaimed two or three. "Dewey's the better man." + </p> + <p> + "Let me get at him! I'll show him what I can do," said O'Reilly doggedly. + </p> + <p> + "As long as you like, O'Reilly," said Richard Dewey coolly; "but you may + as well give it up." + </p> + <p> + "Troth and I won't. I'm stronger than you are any day." + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps you are; but I understand fighting, and you don't." + </p> + <p> + "An O'Reilly not know how to fight!" exclaimed the Irishman hotly. "I + could fight when I was six years old." + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps so; but you can't box." + </p> + <p> + One or two more attacks, and O'Reilly was dragged away by two of his + friends, and Dewey remained master of the field. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Among those who congratulated him was his Mongolian friend, Ki Sing. + </p> + <p> + "Melican man good fightee-knock over Ilishman. Hullah!" + </p> + <p> + "Come with me, Ki Sing," said Dewey. '"I will take care of you till + to-morrow, and then you had better go." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. — CHINESE CHEAP LABOR. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Ki Sing followed him to his tent as a child follows a guardian. + </p> + <p> + "Are you hungry, Ki Sing?" asked Dewey. + </p> + <p> + "Plenty hungly." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + 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." + </p> + <p> + "All lightee!" responded Ki Sing, with alacrity. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Boys," he said, "are you goin' to have that haythen workin' alongside + you?" + </p> + <p> + "It won't do us any harm, will it?" asked Dick Roberts. "If Dewey chooses + to hire him, what is it to us?" + </p> + <p> + "I ain't goin' to demane myself by workin' wid a yeller haythen." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "If he wants to hire anybody, let him hire a dacent Christian." + </p> + <p> + "Like you, O'Reilly?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I don't see that. He is workin' Dick Dewey's claim. I don't see how that + interferes with us." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly he walked over to where Dewey and his apprentice were working. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Why not?" asked Dewey coolly. + </p> + <p> + "We don't feel no call to associate with sich as he." + </p> + <p> + "You needn't; I don't ask you to," said Dewey quietly. "I am the only one + who associates with him." + </p> + <p> + "But we don't want him in camp." + </p> + <p> + "He won't trouble any of you. I will take charge of him." + </p> + <p> + "Look here, Dewey, you've got to respect public sentiment, and public + sentiment is agin' this thing." + </p> + <p> + "Whose public sentiment—O'Reilly's?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, O'Reilly don't like it, for one." + </p> + <p> + "I thought so." + </p> + <p> + "Nor I for another." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "That's different." + </p> + <p> + "Why is it different?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, you see, an Irishman isn't a yeller heathen." + </p> + <p> + Dewey laughed. + </p> + <p> + "He may be a heathen, though not a yellow one," he said. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Dewey, what answer shall I take back to the boys?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I'm afraid the boys won't like it, Dewey." + </p> + <p> + "Probably O'Reilly won't. As for you, you are too intelligent a man to be + influenced by such a man as he." + </p> + <p> + All men are sensible to flattery, and Hodgson was won over by this politic + speech. + </p> + <p> + "I won't say you're altogether wrong, Dewey," he said; "but I wouldn't + keep him too long." + </p> + <p> + "I don't mean to." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. — A MIDNIGHT VISIT. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Good heavens!" thought Dewey, "does he mean to kill the poor Chinaman?" + </p> + <p> + A muttered sentence from O'Reilly reassured him on this point. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "So he wants the poor fellow's queue, does he?" said Dewey to himself. + "You're not quite smart enough, Mr. O'Reilly." + </p> + <p> + There was no time to lose. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "What are you about, O'Reilly?" demanded Richard Dewey, in a deep, stern + voice. + </p> + <p> + O'Reilly uttered a cry, rather of surprise than alarm. + </p> + <p> + "What are you about?" repeated Richard Dewey, in a tone of authority. + </p> + <p> + "I'm goin' to cut off the haythen's pigtail," answered the Irishman + doggedly. + </p> + <p> + "What for?" + </p> + <p> + "I've said I'd do it, and I'll do it." + </p> + <p> + "Well, Mr. O'Reilly, I've said you sha'n't do it, and I mean to keep my + word." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "No, I'm not. Let me up, Dick Dewey, or it'll be the worse for you," said + the intruder wrathfully. + </p> + <p> + "Give me your knife, then." + </p> + <p> + "I won't. It's my own." + </p> + <p> + "The errand on which you come is my warrant for demanding it." + </p> + <p> + "I won't give you the knife, but I'll go back," said O'Reilly. + </p> + <p> + "That won't do." + </p> + <p> + "Don't you go too far, Dick Dewey. I'm your aiqual." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + "And what will they think?" + </p> + <p> + "That you came to rob me." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + "If they chose to think so, it would be bad for you." + </p> + <p> + "You know it isn't so Dick Dewey," said O'Reilly. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I don't belave a word of all that rigmarole, Dick Dewey." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Early in the morning, Richard Dewey awakened Ki Sing. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Melican man velly good-me go," said the Chinaman submissively. + </p> + <p> + "Good luck to you, Ki Sing!" + </p> + <p> + "Good luckee, Melican man!" + </p> + <p> + So the two parted, and when morning came to the camp, nothing was to be + seen of the Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + Dewey returned O'Reilly's knife, the latter receiving it in sullen + silence. + </p> + <p> + It was not long afterward that Richard Dewey himself left Murphy's in + search of a richer claim. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. — ON THE MOUNTAIN PATH. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + As the two last, wearied and well-nigh exhausted, sat down to rest, + Bradley glanced about him long and carefully in all directions. + </p> + <p> + "I can't see anything of them skunks, Ben," he said. + </p> + <p> + "I suppose not, Jake. They must be a good deal farther on." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That's so, Jake." + </p> + <p> + "All I ask is to come up with 'em some of these days." + </p> + <p> + "What would you do?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "You might not be able to do it. They would be two to one." + </p> + <p> + "Not quite, Ben. I'd look for some help from you." + </p> + <p> + "I would give you all the help I could," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Was that in California?" + </p> + <p> + "No; in Kentucky. I had a tough job, but I managed to disable one of the + rascals, and the other ran away." + </p> + <p> + "What did your cousin have to say?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "That's fair, Jake." + </p> + <p> + "That's the way I look at it. I wonder where them rascals are?" + </p> + <p> + "You mean Mosely and his friend?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Not just now, Jake, but we may overtake them yet. Till we do, we may as + well take things as easy as we can." + </p> + <p> + "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.'" + </p> + <p> + Ben laughed. + </p> + <p> + "That was good advice," he said. + </p> + <p> + "I don't know where he got them words from. Maybe they're in the Bible." + </p> + <p> + "I guess not," said Ben, smiling. "They don't sound like it." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps it was this-'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'" + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps it was. Is that from the Bible?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "It might have been made a little stronger," said Bradley thoughtfully. + "The evil of some days is more than sufficient, accordin' to my notion." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Jake," said he, "look yonder!" + </p> + <p> + "It's a Chinee!" said Bradley, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + "How did the critter come here, in the name of wonder?" + </p> + <p> + "I suppose he is looking for gold as well as we." + </p> + <p> + "The heathen seems to be signalin' us. He's wavin' his arm." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Who are you, my yeller friend?" asked Bradley, when he was near enough to + be heard. + </p> + <p> + "My name Ki Sing." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + Ki Sing probably did not understand the tenor of Bradley's remark. + </p> + <p> + "Is there any hotel round here, Mr. Sing?" asked Ben jocosely, "where two + weary travelers can put up for the night?" + </p> + <p> + "Nohotellee!" + </p> + <p> + "Then where do you sleep?" + </p> + <p> + "Me sleep on glound." + </p> + <p> + "Your bed is a pretty large one, then," said Bradley. "The great objection + to it is, that it is rather hard." + </p> + <p> + Ki Sing's mind was evidently occupied by some engrossing thought, which + prevented his paying much attention to Bradley's jocose observations. + </p> + <p> + "Melican man wantee you," he said, in an excited manner. + </p> + <p> + "What's that?" asked Bradley. "Melican man want me?" + </p> + <p> + Ki Sing nodded. + </p> + <p> + "Where is he?" + </p> + <p> + Ki Sing turned, and pointed to a rude hut some half a mile away in a + little mountain nook. + </p> + <p> + "Melican man thele," he said. + </p> + <p> + "Come along, Ben," said Bradley. "Let us see what this means. It may be + some countryman of ours who is in need of help." + </p> + <p> + The Chinaman trotted along in advance, and our two friends followed him. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII. — THE MOUNTAIN CABIN. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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?" + </p> + <p> + The invalid started in surprise and evident joy when he heard Bradley's + voice. + </p> + <p> + "Thank Heaven!" he said, "for the sound of a countryman's voice," and he + turned to look at his visitor. + </p> + <p> + Now it was Bradley's turn to start and manifest surprise. + </p> + <p> + "Why, it's Dick Dewey!" he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + "You know me?" said the sick man eagerly. + </p> + <p> + "Of course I do. Didn't we work together at Murphy's, almost side by + side?" + </p> + <p> + "Jake Bradley!" exclaimed Dewey, recognizing him at last. + </p> + <p> + "The same old coon! Now, Dewey, what's the matter with you?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Has the Chinaman taken care of you?" inquired Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "Yes; I don't know what I should have done without Ki Sing," said Dewey, + with a grateful glance at the Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + "Was he with you when the accident hapened?" + </p> + <p> + "No; I lay helpless on the hillside for two hours, when, providentially, + as I shall always consider it, my friend Ki Sing came along." + </p> + <p> + The Chinaman usually impassive face seemed to light up with pleasure when + Richard Dewey spoke of him as his friend. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "A blick!" repeated the Mongolian, appearing more puzzled than + complimented. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, a brick-a real good fellow, and no mistake! Give us your hand! + You're a gentleman!" + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Had you ever met Ki Sing, Dick?" asked Bradley. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "Melican man shakee too much!" he protested. + </p> + <p> + Bradley did not hear him, for he had again resumed conversation with + Dewey. + </p> + <p> + "Is that your boy, Bradley?" asked the invalid, glaring at Ben, who + modestly kept in the background. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Probably you came, like me, in search of gold." + </p> + <p> + "That's where you're wrong. Leastways, that wasn't the principal object of + our coming." + </p> + <p> + "You're not traveling for pleasure, I should think," said Dewey, smiling. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Looking for me!" exclaimed Dewey, in great surprise. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, and no mistake. Isn't it so, Ben?" + </p> + <p> + Ben nodded assent. + </p> + <p> + "But what possible motive can you have in looking for me?" + </p> + <p> + "I say, Dewey," proceeded Bradley, "did you ever hear of a young lady by + the name of Florence Douglas?" + </p> + <p> + The effect of the name was electric. Dewey sprang up in bed, and inquired + eagerly. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, yes, but what of her? Can you tell me anything of her?" + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "Is this true? How came she here? Is her guardian with her?" asked Dewey + rapidly. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "I begin to see, that, young as you are, Florence didn't make a bad + selection when she chose you as her escort." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "You forget this confounded sprain," said Dewey, looking ruefully at his + ankle. "If I go you'll have to carry me." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "We'll give you a share of what we find, Dick." + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + "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." + </p> + <p> + "I agree to that," said Ben. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <h3> + THE END. + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Young Explorer, by Horatio Alger + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG EXPLORER *** + +***** This file should be named 5623-h.htm or 5623-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/2/5623/ + +Etext produced by Charles Aldarondo + +HTML file produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Young Explorer + or, Claiming His Fortune + +Author: Horatio Alger + +Posting Date: June 4, 2012 [EBook #5623] +Release Date: May, 2004 +First Posted: July 24, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG EXPLORER *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo + + + + + + + + + +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. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Young Explorer, by Horatio Alger + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG EXPLORER *** + +***** This file should be named 5623.txt or 5623.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/2/5623/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**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. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE YOUNG EXPLORER *** + +This file should be named yexpl10.txt or yexpl10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, yexpl11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, yexpl10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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