father about going there?"
"I have spoken to him about leaving home, and seeking my fortune; but I have not mentioned going to California, because I thought it impossible to raise the necessary money."
"Of course. That's sensible, at least."
Squire Hudson rose and walked thoughtfully about the room, occasionally casting a keen glance at Tom, who remained sitting, with his pail of huckleberries in his cap.
After a while the squire spoke again.
"Your father might let you have the money," he suggested.
"My father has no money to spare," said Tom quickly.
"Couldn't he raise some?"
"I don't know how."
"Then I'll tell you. I hold a mortgage for two thousand dollars on his farm. I suppose you know that?"
"Yes, sir."
"I might be willing to increase the mortgage to twenty-two hundred, and he could lend you the extra two hundred."
This was a new idea to Tom, and he took a little time to think it over.
"I don't like to ask father to do that," he said. "He finds it very hard now to pay the interest on the mortgage."
"I thought you intended to pay the money in a year," said the squire sharply.
"So I do," said Tom, and he began to think more favorably of the plan.
"In that case your father wouldn't suffer."
"You are right, sir. If father would only consent to do so, I would be happy. But I might die."
"Your father would have to take the risk of that. You can't expect me to."
This seemed fair enough, and, in fact, the danger didn't seem very great to Tom. He was about sixteen; and to a boy of sixteen death seems very far off, provided he is strong and vigorous, as Tom was. He rapidly decided that the squire's offer was not to be refused without careful consideration. It opened to him a career which looked bright and promising. Once in California, what could he not do? Tom was hopeful and sanguine, and did not allow himself to think of failure.
"I understand that you are willing to advance the money, Squire Hudson?" he said, determined to know just what to depend upon.
"I will advance two hundred dollars, on condition that your father will secure me by an increased mortgage. It is no particular object to me, for I can readily invest the money in some other way."
"I will speak to father about it, Squire Hudson, and meanwhile I am thankful to you for making the offer."
"Very well. Let me know as soon as possible," said the squire carelessly.
As Tom went out, the rich man soliloquized: "I have no faith in the boy's scheme, and I don't believe half the stories they tell about the California mines; but it will give me an extra hold on Nelson, and hasten the day when the farm will come into my hands. When Mary Nelson refused my hand I resolved some day to have my revenge. I have waited long, but it will come at last. When she and her children are paupers, she may regret the slight she put upon me."
CHAPTER IV.
TOM ASKS LEAVE OF ABSENCE
Tom walked home slowly, but the distance seemed short, for he was absorbed in thought. In a way very unexpected he seemed to be likely to realize what he had regarded as a very pleasant, but impossible, dream. Would his father consent to the squire's proposal, and, if so, ought Tom to consent to expose him to the risk of losing so considerable a sum of money? If he had been older and more cautious he would probably have decided in the negative; but Tom was hopeful and sanguine, and the stories he had heard of California had dazzled him. There was, of course, an element of uncertainty in his calculations, but the fact that there seemed to be no prospect before him in his native village had an important influence in shaping his decision.
To ask his father the momentous question, however, was not easy, and he delayed it, hoping for a favorable opportunity of introducing the subject. His thoughtful manner excited attention, and secured him the opportunity he sought.
"You seem deep in thought, Tom," said his mother.
"Yes, mother, I have a good deal to think about."
"Anybody would think Tom overwhelmed with business," said Walter, next to Tom in age, with good-humored banter.
"I am," said Tom gravely.
"Won't you take me in partnership, then?" asked Walter.
Tom smiled.
"I don't think I could do that," he answered. "Not to keep you waiting, Squire Hudson has made me a business proposal this afternoon."
All were surprised and looked to Tom for an explanation.
"He offers to advance me two hundred dollars for a year, to help me out to California."
"Squire Hudson makes this offer to a boy of your age?" said his father slowly.
"Yes, or rather he makes the offer to you."
"To me?"
"Perhaps you will think me selfish for even mentioning it," said Tom rapidly, in a hurry to explain fully now that the ice was broken. "He will advance the money, on condition that you increase the mortgage on the farm to twenty-two hundred dollars."
Mr. Nelson looked blank.
"Do you know, Tom," he said, "how hard I find it now to pay the interest on the mortgage, and how hopeless I am of ever paying it off?"
"I know all that, father; but I want to help you. If I keep my health, and have a chance, I think I can help you. There's no chance for me here, and there is a chance in California. You remember what we have read in the Weekly Messenger about the gold-fields, and what large sums have been realized by miners."
"They are men, and you are a boy."
"That's true," said Tom, "but," he added, with natural pride, "I am pretty strong for a boy. I am willing to work, and I don't see why I can't dig gold as well as a man. I may not make as much, but if I only do half as well as some that we have read about, I can do a good deal for you."
"How far off is California?" asked Mrs. Nelson.
"Over three thousand miles, across the continent," answered her husband. "By sea it is a good deal more."
"Why, it is as far off as Europe," said Walter, who was fresh from his lesson in geography.
"It is farther than some parts of Europe – England, for example," said his father.
"And a wild, unsettled region," said Mrs. Nelson soberly.
"I don't think so much of that," said Mark Nelson. "Tom is no baby. He is a boy of good sense, not heedless, like some of his age, and I should feel considerable confidence in his getting along well."
"What, Mark, are you in favor of his going so far – a boy who has never been away from home in his life?"
"I don't know what to say. I have not
