Joes Luck | Page 5

hard,
and to put by half he makes, he's sure to do well, and he may get rich.
Why, I knew a man that landed in California the same day that I did,
went up to the mines, struck a vein, and--well, how much do you think
that man is worth to-day?"
"A thousand dollars?" suggested Dan Tompkins.
"Why, I'm worth more than that myself, and I wasn't lucky, and had the
rheumatism for four months. You'll have to go higher."
"Two thousand?" guessed Sam Stone.
"We don't make much account of two thousand dollars in the mines,
Sam," said Seth.
"It's of some account here," said Sam. "I've been workin' ten years, and
I ain't saved up a third of it."
"I don't doubt it," said Seth; "and it ain't your fault, either. Money's
scarce round here, and farmin' don't pay. You know what I was workin'
at before I went out--in a shoe shop. I just about made a poor livin', and
that was all. I didn't have money enough to pay my passage out, but I
managed to borrow it. Well, it's paid now, and I've got something left."
"You haven't told us yet how much the man made that you was talkin'
about," said Tom Sutter. "It couldn't be five thousand dollars, now,
could it?"

"I should say it could," said Seth.
"Was it any more?" inquired Dan Tompkins.
"Well, boys, I s'pose I may as well tell you, and you may b'lieve it or
not, just as you like. That man is worth twenty thousand dollars
to-day."
There was a chorus of admiring ejaculations.
"Twenty thousand dollars! Did you ever hear the like?"
"Mind, boys, I don't say it's common to make so much money in so
short a time. There isn't one in ten does it, but some make even more.
What I do say is, that a feller that's industrious, and willin' to work, an'
rough it, and save what he makes, is sure to do well, if he keeps well.
That's all a man has a right to expect, or to hope for."
"To be sure it is."
"What made you come home, Seth, if you were gettin' on so well?"
inquired one.
"That's a fair question," said Seth, "and I'm willin' to answer it. It was
because of the rheumatics. I had 'em powerful bad at the mines, and
I've come home to kinder recuperate, if that's the right word. But I'm
goin' back ag'in, you may bet high on that. No more work in the shoe
shop for me at the old rates. I don't mean that I'd mind bein' a
manufacturer on a big scale. That's a little more stiddy and easy than
bein' at the mines, but that takes more capital than I've got."
"How much does it cost to go out there?" asked Dan Tompkins.
"More money than you can scare together, Dan. First-class, nigh on to
three hundred dollars, I believe."
This statement rather dampened the ardor of more than one of the
listeners. Three hundred dollars, or even two, were beyond the
convenient reach of most of those present. They would have to

mortgage their places to get it.
"You can go second-class for a good deal less, and you can go round
the Horn pretty cheap," continued Seth.
"How far away is Californy?" inquired Sam Stone.
"By way of the isthmus, it must be as much as six thousand miles, and
it's twice as fur, I reckon, round the Horn. I don't exactly know the
distance."
"Then it's farther away than Europe," said Joe, who had been listening
with eager interest.
"Of course it is," said Seth. "Why, that's Joe Mason, isn't it? How
you've grown since I saw you."
"Do you think I have?" said Joe, pleased with the assurance.
"To be sure you have. Why, you're a big boy of your age. How old are
you?"
"Fifteen---nearly sixteen."
"That's about what I thought. Where are you livin' now, Joe?"
"I'm working for Major Norton."
Seth burst into a laugh.
"I warrant you haven't made your fortune yet, Joe," he said.
"I haven't made the first start yet toward it."
"And you won't while you work for the major. How much does he pay
you?"
"Board and clothes."

"And them are the clothes?" said Seth, surveying Joe's appearance
critically.
"Yes."
"I guess the major's tailor's bill won't ruin him, then. Are they the best
you've got?"
"No; I've got a better suit for Sunday."
"Well, that's something. You deserve to do better, Joe."
"I wish I could," said Joe wistfully. "Is there any chance for a boy in
California, Mr. Larkin?"
"Call me Seth. It's what I'm used to. I don't often use the handle to my
name. Well, there's a chance for a boy, if