could save plenty of money then."

"Well, gentlemen, do you want to stay here?" inquired the landlord.

"We'd like to, squire, but not bein' millionaires I guess we'll have to
put it off till times are better."

"Just as you say," said the landlord, indifferently. "There's others
waiting for the only room I have empty." Then, noticing for the first
time the express wagon which Tom had left outside, he asked, in a tone
of interest, "Who owns that team?"

"It belongs to this boy and myself," answered Ferguson.

"Where did it come from?"

"The States."

"You don't want to sell, do you?"

Tom was about to reply in the affirmative, but the Scot, more shrewd,
answered indifferently, "We may sell it when we get to San Francisco."

"I need just such a team as that," said the landlord, eagerly. "I'll
give you a good price for it. You can go down the river to Frisco."

"I suppose we might," said Ferguson, slowly, "if it was worth our
while."

"What'll you take, cash down?" inquired the landlord, earnestly.

"Nay, my friend, I prefer to hear your views as to the price."

"I will give you eight hundred dollars for the wagon."

This was certainly an excellent profit, for but three hundred had been
paid for horse and wagon. Tom's heart beat fast with excitement, for he
remembered that one-third of the money would come to him. If it had
depended upon him he would have clinched the bargain at once, but he
wisely left the matter in the hands of his companion and partner.

"That seems a fair offer," said Ferguson; "but I think we may as well
wait till we reach San Francisco. Besides, we want to sell the horse,
too."

"I will give you a thousand dollars for the two," said the landlord.

A man with his pantaloons tucked in his boots, a coarse woolen shirt,
and a wide-brimmed sombrero, which overshadowed a face bearing a beard
of a week's growth, was leaning against the door-post.

"Landlord," said he, "I see your price, and I'll go two hundred better."

Tom stared at the speaker in surprise. He looked like a man who would
have found it hard to raise twelve dollars, yet he had made an offer of
twelve hundred. Our hero did not learn till afterwards that the man had
"struck it rich" at the mines, sold out his claim for ten thousand
dollars, and for the time being was the lucky possessor of a large bank
account.

"Now, Tom Scott," expostulated the landlord, "this ain't fair. I want
the wagon more'n you do, and you're a-