Full of hope, Grant and Tom arrived at the cabin of the old man who had promised them his claim.

“How are you feeling this morning?” inquired Grant, when they were admitted.

“Rather stiff, but better than yesterday. Is this your friend?”

“Yes. His name is Tom Cooper.”

The old man scrutinized him closely.

“It’s a good face,” he said. “You can trust him.”

“I do.”

Tom looked well pleased.

“You have come to ask me to keep my promise.”

“Yes. Your offer was a very kind one. On the strength of it we have given our claims 227at Howe’s Gulch to a stranger, who came to our cabin last night penniless.”

“Then I shall be helping him, too. Are you ready to go to work at once?”

“Yes; that’s our hope.”

“The place where I made my pile is fifteen miles away. Are you good for a long walk?”

“I am,” answered Grant.

“I will try to keep up with you,” said Tom Cooper, smiling.

“My claim was on a creek at the base of a hill, about a mile from a village called Eldora. In the pocket of yonder coat I have drawn, roughly, a plan of the place, which will be a sufficient guide.”

“May I keep the paper?” asked Grant.

“Certainly.”

“If we start now, Grant, we can get there before night.”

“Go, then, and may success attend you.”

“Can’t we do anything for you before we go, sir?”

“No, thank you. One thing, however, I will ask. In a month, let me know how you are getting along. I look upon you as my 228successors. I hope you may be as fortunate as I was.”

The two friends set out with stout hearts, in excellent spirits. The walk was long and fatiguing, but there is nothing like hope to sweeten toil. About midway they sat down under a tree, and ate, with hearty appetite, the lunch they had taken the precaution to carry with them.

“I wish there was more,” said Grant wistfully.

“Your appetite seems improving.”

“There’s nothing like a good walk to make a fellow feel hungry. I wonder how Stockton is getting along.”

“He will make something at any rate. I pity Silverthorn if ever our long-legged friend gets hold of him.”

After an hour they resumed their walk, and about four o’clock they reached their destination. They visited the location of the claim, and surveyed it with a guarded manner, not wishing to draw attention to it.

They fell in with a thin man, of medium stature, who talked in a drawling tone. He 229seemed to have a considerable share of curiosity.

“Where might you be from, strangers?” he inquired.

“We might be from China, but we aint,” said Tom.

“Is that a joke?” asked their new acquaintance, puzzled.

“Yes; it’s an attempt at a joke.”

“I reckon you don’t want to tell.”

“Oh, yes; we’re entirely willing. We came from Howe’s Gulch.”

“So? Did you strike it rich there?”

“No; we struck it poor,” said Grant, with a smile. “We found ourselves headed for the poorhouse, so we switched off.”

“I was at Howe’s Gulch myself a year ago.”

“Did you have luck?”

“Not much. I paid expenses.”

“Are you mining now?”

“No; I’m farming. I live just out of the village—me and Mrs. Crambo, and a boy that’s working for us.”

“How far from here?”

230“About a mile.”

“How would you like a couple of boarders?”

“Are you going to stay ’round here?“

“We may—for a while.”

“Come to the house, then, and speak to Mrs. Crambo. If she’s agreeable, I am.”

They accompanied their new friend to a plain, but comfortable house, looking not unlike a New England farm-house. Mrs. Crambo was a pleasant looking woman, weighing at least fifty pounds more than her lord and master. She was evidently the “better man of the two,” being active and energetic, while he was slow and seemed to find exertion difficult.

“If you are willing to set up a hotel, Mrs. Crambo,” said her husband, “I bring you two boarders for a starter.”

“I shouldn’t mind a little company,” she said pleasantly. “How long have you been out here?”
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