name?" asked a manly voice, and
John Miles himself stepped into the tent, bending his head as he
entered.

"I hear you are going to San Francisco, John?"

"Yes, I start next week."

"Will you come back again?"

"I intend to. I am going to prospect a little, and buy some things for
myself and Captain Fletcher."

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Of course I will, if it isn't too large a one," answered Miles.

Tom explained what he wished, and John Miles cordially assented.

"You're a good boy, Tom," he said, "to think of your father so soon."

"I feel anxious about him," said Tom. "He raised money to send me out
here, and I don't want him to suffer for it."

"That's the right way to feel, Tom. I wish I had a father and mother to
look out for," said Miles, soberly, "but you're in better luck than I.
Both died when I was a mere lad. How much do you want to send?"

"Seventy-five dollars."

"Have you saved up so much already?" asked Miles, in surprise.

"Part of it I had left over when I got here."

"Will you have any left?"

"No."

"Isn't it well to reserve a little, then?"

"Oh, I shall have some more soon," answered Tom, sanguine, as most boys
are.

"Suppose you are sick?"

"If he is sick he shall suffer for nothing," said the Scotchman. "While
I have money, Tom shall not feel the want of it."

"Thank you, Mr. Ferguson," said Tom, gratefully.

"That old fellow has a heart, after all," thought Miles, who had been
disposed to look upon Ferguson ever since their first acquaintance, as
rather miserly.

The Scotchman was certainly frugal, and counted his pennies carefully,
but he was not mean, and had conceived a strong affection for his young
companion, whom he regarded much as a son or a nephew.

"Suppose you take the money now, John," said Tom.

"Shall I scribble a receipt, Tom? I am afraid my writing materials have
given out."

"I don't want any receipt," said Tom; "I'll trust you without one."

"Nevertheless, lad," said the cautious Scotchman, "it may be well--"

"Yes, Tom, Mr. Ferguson is right. Of course I know that you trust me;
but if anything should happen to me,--any accident, I mean,--the paper
may be useful to you."

"Just as you like, Mr. Miles, but I don't ask it, remember that."

"Yes, I will remember it, and I don't mean to meet with any accident if
I can help it. Mr. Ferguson, can you oblige me with a pipeful of
tobacco? I'll join you in smoking."

Smoking was the Scotchman'