xhibit 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