he could eat--and charged him nothing for it.  He repays me by
planning a robbery."

"He's a mean skunk," said Watson bluntly.

"You're right, stranger," said Rafferty.  "I'm a scamp myself, but
I'll be blowed if I'd turn on a man that fed me when I was hungry."

The tones were gruff but the man was evidently sincere.

"You're better than you look," said Watson, surprised to hear such a
sentiment from a man of such ruffianly appearance.

Jack Rafferty laughed shortly.

"I ain't used to compliments," he said, "and I expect I'm bad enough,
but I ain't all bad.  I won't turn on my pal, unless he does it
first, and I ain't mean enough to rob a man that's done me a good
turn."

"No, you ain't all bad," said Watson.  "It's a pity you won't make up
your mind to earn an honest living."

"Too late for that, I reckon.  What do you think they'll do with me?"

In those days punishments were summary and severe.  Watson knew it
and Joe had seen something of it.  Our hero began to feel compassion
for the foiled burglar.  He whispered in Watson's ear.  Watson
hesitated, but finally yielded.

"Stranger," said he, "the boy wants me to let you go."

"Does he?" inquired Rafferty, in surprise.

"Yes.  He is afraid it will go hard with you if we give you up."

"Likely it will," muttered Rafferty, watching Watson's face eagerly,
to see whether he favored Joe's proposal.

"Suppose we let you go--will you promise not to make another attempt
upon this place?"

"What do you take me for?  I'm not such a mean cuss as that."

"One thing more--you won't kill this man that brought you here?"

"If I knowed it wasn't a trap he led me into.  He told me there was
only the boy."

"He thought so.  I don't belong here.  The boy let me sleep here out
of kindness.  Hogan knew nothing of this.  I didn't come till after
he had left."

"That's different," said Rafferty; "but he shouldn't have gone back
on me."

"He is a coward, probably."

"I guess you're right," said Rafferty contemptuously.

"You promise, then?"

"Not to kill him?  Yes."

"Then we'll let you go."

Watson unloosed the bonds that confined the prisoner.  Rafferty
raised himself to his full height and stretched his limbs.

"There--I feel better," he said.  "You tied the rope pretty tight."

"I found it necessary," said Watson, laughing.  "Now, Joe, if you
will open the door, this gentleman will pass out."

Rafferty turned to Joe, as he was about to leave the restaurant.

"Boy," said he, "I won't forget this.  I ain't much of a friend to
boast of, but I'm your friend.  You've saved me from prison, and
worse, it's likely; and, if you need help any time, send for me.  If
I had that money I took from you I'd pay it back."

"I don't need it," said Joe.  "I've been lucky, and am doing well.  I
hope you'll make up your mind to turn over a new leaf.  If you do,
and are ever hard up for a meal, come to me, and you shall have it
without money and without price."

"Thank you, boy," said Rafferty.  "I'll remember it."

He strode out of the restaurant, and disappeared in the darkness.

"Human nature's a curious thing, Joe," said Watson.  "Who would have
expected to find any redeeming quality in such a man as that?"

"I would sooner trust him than Hogan."

"So would I.  Hogan is a mean scoundrel, who is not so much of a
ruffian as this man only because he is too much of a coward to be."

"I am glad we let him go," said Joe.

"I am not sure whether it was best, but I knew we should have to be
awake all night if we didn't.  He could have loosened the knots after
awhile.  He won't trouble you any more."

"I wish I felt as sure about Hogan," said Joe.

"Hogan is a coward.  I advise you to keep ft revolver constantly on
hand.  He won't dare to break in by himself."

*       *       *       *       *

The next morning, after breakfast, Watson prepared to go out in
search of work.

"I must begin at the bottom of the ladder once more," he said to Joe.
"It's my own fault, and I won't complain.  But what a fool I have
been!  I might have gone home by the next steamer if I hadn't gambled
away all my hard earnings."

"What sort of work shall you try to get?"

"Anything--I have no right to be particular.  Anything that will pay
my expenses and give me a chance to lay by something for my family at
home."

"Mr. Watson," said Joe suddenly, "I've been thinking of something
that may suit you.  Since I came to San Francisco I have never gone
outside.  I would like to go to the mines."

"You wouldn't make as much as you do here."

"Perhaps not; but I have laid by some money and I would like to see
something of the country.  Will you carry on the restaurant for me
for three months, if I give you your board and half of the profits?"

"Will I?  I should think myself very lucky to get the chance."

"Then you shall have the chance."

"How do you know that I can be trusted?" asked Watson.

"I haven't known you long," said Joe, "but I feel confidence in your
honesty."

"I don't think you'll repent your confidence.  When do you want to
go?"

"I'll stay here a few days, till you get used to the business, then I
will start."

"I was lucky to fall in with you," said Watson.  "I didn't want to go
back to the mines and tell the boys what a fool I have been.  I begin
to think there's a chance for me yet."




CHAPTER XXIV

MR. BICKFORD, OF PUMPKIN HOLLOW

It may be thought that Joe was rash in deciding to leave his business
in the hands of a man whose acquaintance he had made but twelve hours
previous.  But in the early history of California friendships ripened
fast.  There was more confidence between man and man, and I am
assured that even now, though the State is more settled and as far
advanced in civilization and refinement as any of her sister States
on the Atlantic coast, the people are bound together by more friendly
ties, and exhibit less of cold caution than at the East.  At all
events, Joe never dreamed of distrusting his new acquaintance.  A
common peril, successfully overcome, had doubtless something to do in
strengthening the bond between them.

Joe went round to his friend Mr. Morgan and announced his intention.

"I don't think you will make money by your new plan, Joe," said
Morgan.

"I don't expect to," said Joe, "but I want to see the mines.  If I
don't succeed, I can come back to my business here."

"That is true.  I should like very well to go, too."

"Why won't you, Mr. Morgan?"

"I cannot leave my business as readily as you can.  Do you feel
confidence in this man whom you are leaving in charge?"

"Yes, sir.  He has been unlucky, but I am sure he is honest."

"He will have considerable money belonging to you by the time you
return--that is, if you stay any length of time."

"I want to speak to you about that, Mr. Morgan.  I have directed him
to make a statement to you once a month, and put in your hands what
money comes to me--if it won't trouble you too much."

"Not at all, Joe.  I shall be glad to be of service to you."

"If you meet with any good investment for the money while I am away,
I should like to have you act for me as you would for yourself."

"All right, Joe."

Joe learned from Watson that the latter had been mining on the Yuba
River, not far from the town of Marysville.  He decided to go there,
although he might have found mines nearer the city.  The next
question was, How should he get there, and should he go alone?

About this time a long, lank Yankee walked into the restaurant, one
day, and, seating himself at a table, began to inspect the bill of
fare which Joe used to write up every morning.  He looked
disappointed.

"Don't you find what you want?" inquired Joe.

"No," said the visitor.  "I say, this is a queer country.  I've been
hankerin' arter a good dish of baked beans for a week, and ain't
found any."

"We sometimes have them," said Joe.  "Come here at one o'clock, and
you shall be accommodated."

The stranger brightened up.

"That's the talk," said he.  "I'll come."

"Have you just come out here?" asked Joe curiously.

"A week ago."

"Are you a Southerner?" asked Joe demurely.

"No, I guess not!" said the Yankee, with emphasis.

"I was raised in Pumpkin Hollow, State of Maine.  I was twenty-one
last first of April, but I ain't no April fool, I tell you.  Dad and
me carried on the farm till I, began to hear tell of Californy.  I'd
got about three hundred dollars saved up and I took it to come out
here."

"I suppose you've come out to make your fortune?"

"Yes, sir-ee, that's just what I come for."

"How have you succeeded so far?"

"I've succeeded in spendin' all my money, except fifty dollars.  I
say, it costs a sight to eat and drink out here.  I can't afford to
take but one meal a day, and then I eat like all possessed."

"I should think you would, Mr.-------"

"Joshua Bickford--that's my name when I'm to hum."

"Well, Mr. Bickford, what are your plans?"

"I want to go out to the mines and dig gold.  I guess I can dig as
well as anybody.  I've had experience in diggin' ever since I was ten
year old."

"Not digging gold, I suppose?"

"Diggin' potatoes, and sich."

"I'm going to the mines myself, Mr. Bickford.  What do you say to
going along with me?"

"I'm on hand.  You know the way, don't you?"

"We can find it, I have no doubt.  I have never been there, but my
friend Mr. Watson is an experienced miner."

"How much gold did you dig?" asked Joshua bluntly.

"Two thousand dollars," answered Watson, not thinking it necessary to
add that he had parted with the money since at the gaming-table.

"Two thousand dollars?" exclaimed Joshua, duly impressed.  "That's a
heap of money!"

"Yes; it's a pretty good pile."

"I'd like to get that much.  I know what I'd do."

"What would you do, Mr. Bickford?"

"I'd go home and marry Sukey Smith, by gosh!"

"Then I hope you'll get the money, for Miss Smith's sake."

"There's a feller hangin' round her," said Joshua, "kinder
slick-lookin', with his hair parted in the middle; he tends in the
dry-goods store; but, if I come home with two thousand dollars,
she'll have me, I guess.  Why, with two thousand dollars I can buy
the farm next to dad's, with a house with five rooms into it, and a
good-sized barn.  I guess Sukey wouldn't say no to me then, but would
change her name to Bickford mighty sudden."

"I hope you will succeed in your plans, Mr. Bickford."

"Seems to me you're kinder young to be out here," said Bickford,
turning his attention to Joe.

"Yes; I am not quite old enough to think of marrying."

"Have you got money enough to get out to the mines?" asked Joshua
cautiously.

"I think I can raise enough," said Joe, smiling.

"My young friend is the owner of this restaurant," said Watson.

"You don't say!  I thought you hired him."

"No.  On the contrary, I am in his employ.  I have agreed to run the
restaurant for him while he is at the mines.

"You don't say!" exclaimed Bickford, surveying our hero with
curiosity.  "Have you made much money in this eating-house?"

"I've done pretty well," said Joe modestly.  "I own the building and
the two adjoining lots."

"You don't say!  How old be you?"

"Sixteen."

"You must be all-fired smart!"

"I don't know about that, Mr. Bickford.  I've been lucky and fallen
in with good friends."

"Well, I guess Californy's the place to make money.  I ain't made any
yet, but I mean to.  There wasn't no chance to get ahead in Pumpkin
Hollow.  I was workin' for eight dollars a month and board."

"It would be a great while before you could save up money to buy a
farm out of that, Mr. Bickford."

"That's so."

"My experience was something like yours.  Before I came out here I
was working on a farm."

"Sho!"

"And I didn't begin to get as much money as you.  I was bound out to
a farmer for my board and clothes.  The board was fair but the
clothes were few and poor."

"You don't say!"

"I hope you will be as lucky as I have been."

"How much are you worth now?" asked Joshua curiously.

"From one to two thousand dollars, I expect."

"Sho!  I never did!  How long have you been out here?"

"Three months."

"Je-rusalem!  That's better than stayin' to hum."

"I think so."

By this time Mr. Bickford had completed his breakfast and in an
anxious tone he inquired:

"What's the damage?"

"Oh, I won't charge you anything, as you are going to be my traveling
companion," said Joe.

"You're a gentleman, by gosh!" exclaimed Mr. Bickford, in
unrestrained delight.

"Come in at one o'clock and you shall have some of your favorite
beans and nothing to pay.  Can you start for the mines to-morrow?"

"Yes--I've got nothin' to prepare."

"Take your meals here till we go."

"Well, I'm in luck," said Bickford.  "Victuals cost awful out here
and I haven't had as much as I wanted to eat since I got here."

"Consider yourself my guest," said Joe, "and eat all you want to."

It may be remarked that Mr. Bickford availed himself of our young
hero's invitation, and during the next twenty-four hours stowed away
enough provisions to last an ordinary man for half a week.




CHAPTER XXV

THE MAN FROM PIKE COUNTY

Four days later Joe and his Yankee friend, mounted on mustangs, were
riding through a canon a hundred miles from San Francisco.  It was
late in the afternoon, and the tall trees shaded the path on which
they were traveling.  The air was unusually chilly and after the heat
of midday they felt it.

"I don't feel like campin' out to-night," said Bickford.  "It's too
cool."

"I don't think we shall find any hotels about here," said Joe.

"Don't look like it.  I'd like to be back in Pumpkin Hollow just for
to-night.  How fur is it to the mines, do you calc'late?"

"We are probably about half-way.  We ought to reach the Yuba River
inside of a week."

Here Mr. Bickford's mustang deliberately stopped and began to survey
the scenery calmly.

"What do you mean, you pesky critter?" demanded Joshua.

The mustang turned his head and glanced composedly at the burden he
was carrying.

"G'lang!" said Joshua, and he brought down his whip on the flanks of
the animal.

It is not in mustang nature to submit to such an outrage without
expressing proper resentment.  The animal threw up its hind legs,
lowering its head at the same time, and Joshua Bickford, describing a
sudden somersault, found himself sitting down on the ground a few
feet in front of his horse, not seriously injured, but considerably
bewildered.

"By gosh!" he ejaculated.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to dismount, Mr. Bickford?"
asked Joe, his eyes twinkling with merriment.

"Because I didn't know it myself," said Joshua, rising and rubbing
his jarred frame.

The mustang did not offer to run away, but stood calmly surveying him
as if it had had nothing to do with his rider's sudden dismounting.

"Darn the critter!  He looks just as if nothing had happened," said
Joshua.  "He served me a mean trick."

"It was a gentle hint that he was tired," said Joe.

"Darn the beast!  I don't like his hints," said Mr. Bickford.

He prepared to mount the animal, but the latter rose on its hind legs
and very clearly intimated that the proposal was not agreeable.

"What's got into the critter?" said Joshua.

"He wants to rest.  Suppose we rest here for half-an-hour, while we
loosen check-rein and let the horses graze."

"Just as you say."

Joshua's steed appeared pleased with the success of his little hint
and lost no time in availing himself of the freedom accorded him.

"I wish I was safe at the mines," said Joshua.  "What would dad say
if he knowed where I was, right out here in the wilderness?  It looks
as we might be the only human critters in the world.   There ain't no
house in sight, nor any signs of man's ever bein' here."

"So we can fancy how Adam felt when he was set down in Paradise,"
said Joe.

"I guess he felt kinder lonely."

"Probably he did, till Eve came.  He had Eve, and I have you for
company."

"I guess Eve wasn't much like me," said Joshua, with a grin.

He was lying at full length on the greensward, looking awkward and
ungainly enough, but his countenance, homely as it was, looked honest
and trustworthy, and Joe preferred his company to that of many
possessed of more outward polish.  He could not help smiling at Mr.
Bickford's remark.

"Probably Eve was not as robust as you are," he replied, "I doubt if
she were as tall, either.  But as to loneliness, it is better to be
lonely than to have some company."

"There ain't no suspicious characters round, are there?" inquired
Joshua anxiously.

"We are liable to meet them--men who have been unsuccessful at the
mines and who have become desperate in consequence, and others who
came out here to prey upon others.  That's what I hear."

"Do you think we shall meet any of the critters?" asked Joshua.

"I hope not.  They wouldn't find it very profitable to attack us.  We
haven't much money."

"I haven't," said Joshua.  "I couldn't have got to the mines if you
hadn't lent me a few dollars."

"You have your animal.  You can sell him for something."

"If he agrees to carry me so far," said Mr. Bickford, gazing
doubtfully at the mustang, who was evidently enjoying his evening
repast.

"Oh, a hearty meal will make him good-natured.  That is the way it
acts with boys and men, and animals are not so very different."

"I guess you're right," said Joshua.  "When I wanted to get a favor
out of dad, I always used to wait till the old man had got his belly
full.  That made him kinder good-natured."

"I see you understand human nature, Mr. Bickford," said Joe.

"I guess I do," said Joshua complacently.  "Great Jehoshaphat, who's
that?"

Joe raised his head and saw riding toward them a man who might have
sat for the photograph of a bandit without any alteration in his
countenance or apparel.  He wore a red flannel shirt, pants of rough
cloth, a Mexican sombrero, had a bowie-knife stuck in his girdle, and
displayed a revolver rather ostentatiously.  His hair, which he wore
long, was coarse and black, and he had a fierce mustache.

"Is he a robber?" asked Joshua uneasily.

"Even if he is," said Joe, "we are two to one.  I dare say he's all
right, but keep your weapon ready."

Though Joe was but a boy and Bickford a full-grown man, from the
outset he had assumed the command of the party, and issued directions
which his older companion followed implicitly.  The explanation is
that Joe had a mind of his own, and decided promptly what was best to
be done, while his long-limbed associate was duller witted and
undecided.

Joe and Joshua maintained their sitting position till the stranger
was within a rod or two, when he hailed them.

"How are ye, strangers?" he said.

"Pretty comfortable," said Joshua, reassured by his words.  "How fare
you?"

"You're a Yank, ain't you?" said the newcomer, disregarding Joshua's
question.

"I reckon so.  Where might you hail from?"

"I'm from Pike County, Missouri," was the answer.  "You've heard of
Pike, hain't you?"

"I don't know as I have," said Mr. Bickford.

The stranger frowned.

"You must have been born in the woods not to have heard of Pike
County," he said.  "The smartest fighters come from Pike.  I kin whip
my weight in wildcats, am a match for a dozen Indians to onst, and
can tackle a lion without flinchin'."

"Sho!" said Joshua, considerably impressed.

"Won't you stop and rest with us?" said Joe politely.

"I reckon I will," said the Pike man, getting off his beast.  "You
don't happen to have a bottle of whisky with you, strangers?"

"No," said Joe.

The newcomer looked disappointed.

"I wish you had," said he.  "I feel as dry as a tinder-box.  Where
might you be travelin'?"

"We are bound for the mines on the Yuba River."

"That's a long way off."

"Yes, it's four or five days' ride."