said Onthank. "This one is enough
for me, darn his ugly pictur'!"

"I quite agree with you, Mr. Onthank," said Tom.

CHAPTER XVIII.

TOM'S OLD HOME.

Leaving Tom for a time, we will cross the continent, and, a little
earlier in point of time, look in upon Mark Nelson and his family at
their humble home in New Hampshire.

For years Mr. Nelson had been struggling to provide a comfortable living
for his wife and children. The struggle was not an easy one. His small
farm was sterile, and yielded grudgingly its annual crops. Then the
mortgage held by Squire Hudson imposed a burden of interest very hard to
meet. Each half year sixty-six dollars must be raised somehow to satisfy
the squire's demand. Though a rich man, with ready money in plenty, he
never failed to call for his money on the very day it was due. Once or
twice he had granted a delay of a day or two; but his manner was so
unpleasant that the farmer, except from dire necessity, was hardly
likely to ask a renewal of the favor.

The six months immediately following Tom's departure from home were not
favorable to his father. There was a drought of considerable duration,
which made the crops smaller than usual, and thus materially decreased
the farmer's income. When the semi-annual interest became due, with the
most energetic effort Mark Nelson had got together but thirty-six
dollars towards it, leaving a deficit of thirty dollars.

"I feel anxious about to-morrow, Mary," he said, as the little family
sat together the night before in the plain sitting-room. "I have never
been so much behindhand before with the interest."

"How much do you lack, Mark?" asked Mrs. Nelson.

"Thirty dollars."

"That is a good deal of money," said his wife, gravely.

"Yes; I don't know where to raise it. If Squire Hudson were only a
little considerate. But he isn't, and, even if he were, I am afraid
there is no prospect of my raising the money at present."

"You may get some money from Tom soon," suggested Sarah.

"I can't rely upon that. Tom will doubtless send when he is able, for he
understands my circumstances, and is a thoughtful boy; but it is going
to take time for him to earn a surplus--enough to send on."

"He may find a big nugget," said Walter, the second boy, who eagerly
read the letters from California which from time to time appeared in the
weekly paper.

"He _may_, but the chances are against it."

"I was reading in last week's paper about a man fi