might, if favored by fortune, secure a competence in a
twelvemonth, and he ardently wished that he, too, might have the chance
of going there. It was a wish, but not an expectation. It would cost at
least two hundred dollars to reach the Pacific coast, and there was no
hope of getting a tithe of that sum.

"If I could only go to California," thought Tom, "I would make my way
somehow; I would cheerfully work twelve hours a day. I don't see why a
boy can't dig gold, as well as a man. If somebody would lend me money
enough to get there, I could afford to pay high interest."

There was one man in Wilton who might lend him the money if he would.
That man was Squire Hudson. He always had money on hand in considerable
quantities, and two hundred dollars would be nothing to him. Tom would
not have dreamed of applying to him, however, but for a service which
just at this time he was able to render the squire.

Tom had been in search of huckleberries--for this was the season--when,
in a narrow country road, not much frequented, his attention was drawn
to an object lying in the road. His heart hounded with excitement when
he saw that it was a well-filled pocketbook. He was not long in securing
it.

Opening the wallet, he found it was absolutely stuffed with bank-bills,
some of large denomination. There were, besides, several papers, to
which he paid but little attention. They assured him, however, as he had
already surmised, that the wallet was the property of Squire Hudson.

"I wonder how much money there is here," thought Tom, with natural
curiosity.

He stepped into the woods to avoid notice, and carefully counted the
bills. There were two hundred-dollar bills, and three fifties, and so
many of smaller denominations that Tom found the whole to amount to five
hundred and sixty-seven dollars.

"Almost six hundred dollars!" ejaculated Tom, in excitement, for he had
never seen so much money before. "How happy should I be if I had as much
money! How rich the squire is! He ought to be a happy man."

Then the thought stole into our hero's mind, that the wallet contained
nearly three times as much as he would need to take him to California.

"If it were only mine!" he thought to himself.

Perhaps Tom ought to have been above temptation, but he was not. For one
little instant he was tempted to take out two hundred dollars, and then
drop the wallet where he had picked it up. No one would probably find
out where the missing mo