“You a rich man! Ho, ho!” laughed Rodney. “You look like it.”
“No, I don’t look like it, but I may get there all the same.”
“You talk a good deal for a boy of your age,” remarked Mrs. Bartlett in a tone of rebuke.
But Grant, looking at his mother, saw that she was disturbed, and refrained from noticing any further speeches of his young antagonist.
“By the way, father,” said Mrs. Bartlett, “you remember John Heywood, of our town?”
“It’s dreadful expensive goin’ to California.”
“That isn’t of much account if you can bring back a lot of money.”
“Did John Heywood bring back a lot of money?” asked the farmer, pricking up his ears.
“Mining, I believe. He’s bought the Ezra Jones place, and is going to put up a nice house.”
Among the most interested listeners was Grant Colburn. His color went and came, and he seemed excited.
“How long was Mr. Heywood in California,” he asked.
“About a year. He was gone a good deal longer, for he went across the plains, and it took four months. He came back across the Isthmus.”
“I would like to go California,” said Grant thoughtfully.
“_You_ go to California! A boy like you!” repeated Mrs. Bartlett scornfully. “What could you do?”
“I could make more money than I do here,” answered Grant with spirit.
“I reckon you won’t go in a hurry,” said Seth Tarbox composedly. “You haven’t money enough to get you twenty-five miles, and I s’pose it’s as much as two thousand miles from Iowa to Californy.”
Grant felt that there was a good deal of truth in his step-father’s words, but the idea had found lodgment in his brain, and was likely to remain there.
“I mean to go sometime!” he said resolutely.
“You’d better start right off after dinner!” said Rodney in a sneering tone.
“Grant, you may go over to the other farm and ask Luke Weldon for the pitchfork he borrowed of me last week. There’s no knowing how long he would keep it if I didn’t send for it.”
“Rodney can walk with you if he wants to.”
“Thank you,” said Rodney, shrugging his shoulders, “but I don’t care to walk a mile and a half for a pitchfork. I’ll go part way, though, to the village.”
The two boys started out together. Rodney looked askance at his companion’s poor clothes.
“You’re foolish not to take the suit I offered you,” he said. “Its a good deal better than yours.”