Digging for Gold 34
“I was on a false scent!” he exclaimed bitterly. “Where in the world do
they keep their gold?”
He was beginning to replace the clothing in the chest, when the door was
opened and Tom Cooper and Grant entered. Benton sprang to his feet in
confusion, and tried to push his way out of the room. But at a signal
from Tom, Grant closed the door and set his back against it.
“Now, Mr. Albert Benton,” said Tom Cooper sternly, “what are you doing
here in our room?”
In spite of his assurance Albert Benton did not know what to say.
“I—I was in search of some old linen to wrap round my ankle,” he
stammered.
“And so you entered our room, and broke open my chest?”
“I hope you will excuse me, I was indiscreet,” muttered Benton.
“That is a very mild way of putting it,” retorted Tom. “Benton, you are
a thief.”
“Do—you—mean—to insult me?” asked Benton.
“Yes, if the truth insults you. Shall I tell you what you were after?”
Benton did not reply, and Tom Cooper resumed: “You thought we kept our
gold-dust in that chest.”
“Upon my honor!” protested Benton.
“The less you say about your honor the better,” returned Tom, with
contempt. “Grant, what shall we do with him?”
Benton began to be alarmed. Tom Cooper was a young giant. He had been
brought up to his father’s business, and his muscles were as firm and
strong as steel. Benton knew very well that he would be like a child in
his grasp.
“Spare me,” he said, “and I will not trouble you any more.”
“I don’t think you will if you know what is best for yourself. But you
deserve to be punished for what you have already done. Grant, open the
window.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Benton, in alarm.
“I’ll show you.”
Tom seized the thief, and bore him in his strong arms to the window. He
held him outside, making a futile resistance, and then dropped him.
The distance to the ground was only fifteen feet, and Benton landed on
all-fours, a little jarred, but not seriously hurt.
“Now,” said Tom, leaning out, “you had better leave this neighborhood as
expeditiously as possible, or I will brand you as a thief, and let the
citizens take what course they choose.”
Benton knew very well that in California at that time thieves were not
tolerated, and were often strung up to a tree without ceremony. He felt
that he had better not stand upon the order of his going, but go at
once.
“Let me go into the house and get my things,” he said submissively.
“Have you settled up your board bill with Mrs. Crambo?”
“I have only five dollars!” he pleaded.
“Let the board go!” said Mrs. Crambo, who was on the stairs. “All I ask
is that he shall go himself, and never come back.”
Benton crept upstairs, and, getting his small satchel, left the house.
Where he went Tom and Grant did not learn, nor did they care.
“That fellow will never thrive,” said Tom. “He has made a bad beginning.
Any man who wants to get rich by appropriating the property of another
is sure to come to a bad end.”
“I guess you are right, Tom,” said Grant. “I am relieved to have Benton
out of the house.”
“You have lost your boarder, Mrs. Crambo,” said Tom. “How much board is
he owing you?”
“About five dollars.”
“We will pay that; won’t we, Grant?”
“Certainly,” answered Grant.
“I won’t accept it,” said Mrs. Crambo decidedly. “It isn’t your fault
that Mr. Benton came here. As for the small sum he owes me, I can get
along without it. It won’t break me. I don’t believe you and your friend
have any money to spare.”
“We have been doing pretty well, Mrs. Crambo. We have no cause to
complain.”
“I am very glad to hear it, for you are likely to stay here longer. You
have been working hard, and you are entitled to all you have made.”
“Have you really been doing well, Mr. Cooper?” questioned Paul Crambo.
“Yes, Mr. Crambo; we haven’t made a fortune, but we have been very well
paid for our work. Would you like to buy a share in the claim?”
Paul Crambo shook his head.
“Digging for gold doesn’t agree with me,” he said. “You are young men,
and can stand it, but I have a pain in the back if I work over an hour.”
Tom Cooper anticipated this reply, or he would not have made the
proposal. He preferred to have Grant for his sole partner. Nor did he
care to have any third party know how rich the claim really was.
Notwithstanding the hint he had given, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Crambo had
any idea what a bonanza the boys had struck.
CHAPTER XXXII.
A LETTER FROM MR. CROSMONT.
Four more weeks passed. The claim continued to yield richly, and at the
end of this time the two partners reckoned that they had somewhat over
two thousand dollars.
“I wish we could sell the gold-dust, and invest the money where it would
be safe,” said Tom thoughtfully.
“If we were in Sacramento, we should be able to send it by express to
San Francisco.”
“True; but we have no means of doing it here.”
“There are plenty who would undertake the job,” suggested Tom.
“Could we find one that we could trust?” asked Grant shrewdly.
“That’s the question,” said Tom.
That same evening brought a solution of the problem. A man who had just
arrived from San Francisco called at the house.
“Does a boy named Grant Colburn live here?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I have a letter for him from San Francisco.”
Grant was summoned, and in some surprise received the communication.
“It is from Mr. Crosmont,” he said joyfully, as he opened the letter and
looked at the signature.
He read it aloud. It ran thus:
DEAR GRANT:
It seems a very long time since I have seen you, and I am in the dark as
to your successes and prospects. As you know, my principal business is
to look for my wayward son Gregory, who, I have reason to think, is in
California. Now, all visitors to California come sooner or later to San
Francisco, and it is for this reason that I have established myself
here. Thus far I have not seen or heard of Gregory, but this is not at
all surprising. He may be somewhere in the interior, and in that case
there would be little chance of my hearing of him.
Meanwhile, I confess that I feel lonely. I am not a man to make many
friends, and I have met no one in whom I feel an interest since I parted
with you. I begin to think that I should like to have you with me, and I
will promise that you will lose nothing by transferring yourself to San
Francisco. Will you, on receipt of this letter, arrange to join me as
soon as you can? I am the more anxious to have you do so, because I have
not felt very well of late, and, if I should fall sick, I should like to
have with me a tried and faithful friend whom I can thoroughly trust.
I don’t know how you are situated. You may be in need. I, therefore,
think it best to send by the bearer fifty dollars, which will pay your
expenses to this city. You will find me at the Alameda Hotel in Stockton
Street.
Though I am doing no business, I have made some investments in town lots
which, I think, will pay me handsomely. I have bought two lots for you,
which are recorded in your name. I look to see the present village of
San Francisco become a large, populous and influential city. I may not
live to see it, but you assuredly will. If you need more money, let me
know. Let me see you soon.
Your old friend,
GILES CROSMONT.
“Well,” said Tom, after the reading was ended, “one question is
settled.”
“What is that?”
“We needn’t look any further for a messenger to take our gold to San
Francisco.”
“You mean that I am to take it?”
“Yes.”
The two partners realized that Grant’s mission would involve some risk.
Californian routes of travel were in those days infested by robbers and
road agents, who preferred making a living in a lawless way to the more
creditable and less hazardous paths of industry. How to reduce the
danger to a minimum was a subject of anxious thought.
“You had better not send all the gold-dust by me, Tom,” said Grant.
“Then, if I am robbed, it won’t be a total loss.”
댓글 없음:
댓글 쓰기