PREPARING FOR A NEW START.

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When Tom opened his eyes he did not at first remember where he was, but a glance at Dick Russell, his new acquaintance, stretched out on the floor and still sleeping, quickly recalled the important events of the day previous. Mr. Ferguson was already dressed.

"Well, Tom, are you rested?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Ferguson; I slept like a top. What time is it?"

"It is seven o'clock. Our new friend is still asleep."

"I suppose he was on his feet all day yesterday."

"I don't know whether I ought to hurry you away from San Francisco so soon, Tom," said his Scotch friend. "We only arrived yesterday, and you have not had time to see the place, and enjoy yourself after your hard work at the mines."

"I don't care for that, Mr. Ferguson. I am anxious to be at work again. I didn't come out here to enjoy myself, but to make money for my father."

"You have succeeded pretty well thus far, Tom."

"Yes; but I have made more by the sale of the team than by work at the mines."

"True; but that is a legitimate transaction. If our friend here has reported correctly, we shall find mining more profitable in the place he mentions than at River Bend."

"I have no objection to that, though I was satisfied with River Bend. Wouldn't it be splendid, Mr. Ferguson, if we could do as well in the next six months as he did?"

"Making two thousand dollars each?"

"Yes."

"We may accomplish it; but it is best not to calculate upon it."

"If I could only free the farm from that troublesome mortgage I should be proud and happy. It has worn upon father, as I could see, and he has been compelled to toil early and late to pay the interest, besides supporting us all."

"How much is the mortgage, Tom?"

"Twenty-two hundred dollars."

"You have made a good beginning towards it already, Tom. You have seven hundred dollars invested in business."

"But out of that I owe you a hundred and fifty, Mr. Ferguson."

"Don't trouble yourself about that, Tom. Unless I should stand in great need of it, I will wait till you have paid off the mortgage before asking to have it repaid."

"You are very kind, Mr. Ferguson," said Tom, gratefully. "A part of my seven hundred dollars rightfully belongs to you, for you owned two-thirds of the horse and wagon."

"I couldn't have bought them without your help, Tom. So you see that you enabled me to make money. I am quite satisfied with an equal partnership."

"And I am very well satisfied with my partner," said Tom, smiling. "Shall we wake up Russell?"

"Yes, for we have much to do to-day."

"John Miles will be surprised at my leaving the city so quick."

"By the way, Tom, as he is to remain here, while you are out of the reach of post-offices, it may be well to ask your father to direct future letters to his care, and he can forward them as he has opportunity."

"That is a good idea. I will write to-day so as to catch the next steamer, and I will also speak to John."

Tom had to shake Dick Russell energetically before that young man opened his eyes.

"What's the matter?" he ejaculated, drowsily.

"Don't you want some breakfast?" asked Tom.

"Oh, it's you, Tom! Yes, you have touched the right chord. I have a first-class appetite—and no money," he added, his face clouding.

"Mr. Ferguson is treasurer," said Tom, lightly, wishing to divert Russell from the thoughts of his heavy loss, and the folly to which he owed it; "but we know very little of the city. Can you guide us to a good restaurant?"

"To a good one, but not a cheap one. Everything is high here."

"Then it is fortunate we are going to leave so soon."

In a small restaurant, on Montgomery street, our three friends partook of a hearty breakfast. It might not have attracted an epicure, but neither of the three was fastidious; and, though the charge was five dollars, Ferguson, economical as he was, paid the bill cheerfully. It was the first "civilized" breakfast he had eaten for months, and it might be months before he would be able to partake of another as good.

"I wish we could breakfast like this at the mines," said Tom.

"So say I," chimed in Dick Russell; "but you know that the gold-hunter must sacrifice home comforts."

"I shan't complain of that, if I can do as well as you did," said Tom.

"I see no reason why you can't. There is plenty of gold there, and all that is needed is work and perseverance."

"I am willing to contribute them," said Tom. "I mean to do my best to succeed."

"None of us can do more, my lad," said Ferguson. "Let us hope that God will prosper our undertakings."

"I say, I am glad I have met with you two," said Dick Russell. "You'll keep me on the right track; and, in spite of my past folly, I hope in time to win success."

"I am glad to hear you speak so sensibly, my young friend," said the Scotchman, kindly. "It's a great deal better to put your back to the wheel once more, than to take the life God gave you."

"Don't speak of that again, Mr. Ferguson," said Russell, shuddering. "I don't like to think of it."

"He'll do," thought Ferguson, with satisfaction. "His mind is now in a healthy condition, and I have great hopes of him."

The rest of the day was devoted to the purchase of supplies. Ferguson also bought a mule, in behalf of the party, which was of service in carrying a part of their burdens. It was not until afternoon that Tom found an opportunity to call on John Miles, and acquaint him with his almost immediate departure.

"I am sorry you are going away so soon, Tom," said Miles. "I thought you would stay at least a week."

"So I would if I were not so anxious to be at work once more. You know how my father is situated, John, for I have told you more than once."

"Yes, Tom; but I see no reason why you should feel uneasy. With the help you are to send him, there will be no trouble about his paying his interest regularly."

"I know that, John; but I shall feel uneasy until the mortgage is paid off, and he is out of Squire Hudson's power."

"For how long a time has the farm your father owns been encumbered with this mortgage?"

"For ten years, at least."

"Is the mortgage for any specified term of years?"

"I don't think so."

"It merely runs from year to year then?"

"I suppose so."

"In that case this Squire Hudson could foreclose at any time, could he not?"

"Yes," answered Tom, soberly.

"Don't make yourself uneasy about it, however," said Miles, observing that Tom seemed apprehensive. "As your father's farm is not particularly valuable, there can be no danger of foreclosure. By the way, wouldn't you like to have me remit your father something next month out of the profits of the business?—I can charge it to your account."

"I am glad you mentioned it, John. You may send him fifty or seventy-five dollars, if my share should amount to so much."

"I will."

"And I am going to have my home letters directed to your care. You can forward them to me whenever you have an opportunity."

"I won't fail, Tom. If there is anything you need sent out to you, you have only to write me, and I will attend to your commissions."

"It is very convenient to have an agent in the city," said John, smiling. "I shall feel much more comfortable out at the mines."

"I wish you good luck, Tom; but remember, even if you don't succeed in your search for gold, I shall be making money for you here."

"You make me feel quite like a capitalist, John."

"I hope you may be one some day. Good-by!"

They shook hands and parted. Before night-fall Tom had started on his new journey in quest of gold.