The Young Bank Messenger Part 44

"When was that letter written?"

"About two years ago."

"Thank you. This gives me a clue. Come out of doors and I will give you what I promised. It isn't best that any one should think we had dealings together."

Five minutes later Clarence started for home, happy in the possession of a five-dollar bill.

"I never paid any money more cheerfully in my life," mused Bolton.

"Now I must find the boy!"

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE TOWN OF OREVILLE.

When Ernest and Luke Robbins started for California they had no very definite plans as to the future. But they found among their fellow-pa.s.sengers a man who was just returning from the East, where he had been to visit his family. He was a practical and successful miner, and was by no means reluctant to speak of his success.

"When I landed in Frisco," he said, "two years ago, I had just forty dollars left after paying the expenses of my trip. I couldn't find anything to do in the city, so I set out for the mines."

"Where did you go?" asked Luke, becoming interested.

"To Oreville. At least, that's what they call it now. Then it didn't have a name."

"I hope you prospered," said Ernest.

"Well, not just at first, but luck came after a while. When I reached the mines I was dead broke, and went to work for somebody else. After a while I staked out a claim for myself. Well, I won't go into particulars, but I've got six thousand dollars salted down with a trust company in Frisco, and I've got a few hundred dollars about my clothes besides."

"That's the place for us, Ernest," said Luke.

"So I think," answered Ernest.

"Do you want to go to the mines?" asked the miner.

"Yes; we have our fortunes to make, and are willing to work."

"Then go out to Oreville with me. Have you got any money?"

"We have enough to get there, and perhaps a little over."

"That will do. I'll set you to work on one of my claims. We will share and share alike. How will that suit you?"

"It seems fair. Do you think we can make enough to live upon?"

"That depends partly on yourselves and partly upon luck. Luck has something to do with it."

"At any rate, we are willing to work," said Ernest.

"Then I'm your friend, and will help you," said the miner heartily.

"Tom Ashton never goes back on his friends."

This was very encouraging. Luke and Ernest were not dead broke, but were near it. They had less than forty dollars between them, and they had already found out that living was high in California. They remained but a day in San Francisco, and then started for Oreville with Mr. Ashton.

The two friends knew nothing of mining, but as practised in those early days it took very little time to learn. They found that their new friend was a man of consideration at Oreville. He owned several claims, and had no difficulty in finding them employment. They set to work at once, for they were almost penniless.

It may be easily supposed that the miners were not fastidious about living. The cabins or huts which they occupied were primitive to the last degree. Generally they did their own cooking, such as it was.

Three of these cabins Tom Ashton owned, and one was a.s.signed to the use of Ernest and his friend.

For years, Ernest, with his old friend and supposed uncle, Peter Brant, had lived in a cabin at Oak Forks, but it was superior to their new residence. Yet his former experience enabled him the better to accommodate himself to the way of living at Oreville.

For a month the two friends worked steadily at their claim, which Ashton had finally given them. They made something, but not much. In fact, it was with difficulty that they made expenses.

"It will be a long time before we make our pile, Ernest," said Luke one evening, as he sat in front of his cabin smoking.

"Yes, Luke, things don't look very promising," replied Ernest, gravely.

"If it weren't for my pipe I should feel blue. Smoking cheers me up."

"That is where you have the advantage of me, Luke."

"You have the same chance that I have. I have an extra pipe. Won't you take a smoke?"

Ernest shook his head.

"I think I'm better off without it."

"Perhaps you're right, lad. I remember my poor father warned me against smoking. The question is, how long we'd better keep at it."

"Is there anything else, Luke?"

"Well, no; not here."

"And we haven't money enough to get away."

Just then a tall man with reddish hair strode across the field to their cabin.

"Good evening, neighbors," he said. "How are you making out?"

"Not over-well," answered Luke.

"There's a difference in claims. You've got a poor one."

"Probably you are right."

"There's been considerable gold dust gathered in Oreville within six months. I have been one of the lucky ones."

"Indeed! I am glad of it."