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