possible Mr. Ferguson would cheat me out of my fair share?"
thought Tom, but he only harbored the suspicion for an instant. He had
seen too much of his friend to believe such a thing, and he quietly
waited for an explanation.

"I'll tell you how I propose that we divide it, Tom. First we'll take
out the money each of us put in, one hundred for you and two hundred for
me, and then we'll divide the profit equally."

"But," protested Tom, "you are entitled to two-thirds."

"Then I won't take it," said Ferguson, decidedly. "I only want half of
the profit. That will give me eight hundred dollars, and that ought to
satisfy me."

"And I shall have seven hundred," said Tom, his eyes sparkling.

"Precisely."

"How kind you are, Mr. Ferguson!" exclaimed Tom, eagerly seizing the
Scotchman's hand.

"No, my lad; I am only just. I am glad to help a boy who is working for
his father and family."

"I shouldn't deserve to succeed if I didn't," said Tom, earnestly.

"Always bear that in mind, my lad, and God will smile on your efforts,
and raise you up friends."

In spite of the high price, Tom and his partner felt justified now in
stopping over night at the hotel where they had met with such a piece of
good luck, and the next day started down the river for San Francisco.

CHAPTER XXI.

TOM BUYS A BUSINESS.

It was an interesting moment for our two friends when they landed in San
Francisco. The future Western metropolis was only a town of scattered
wooden and adobe houses, with irregular streets and a general lack of
uniformity in its buildings; but everybody seemed on the alert. The
number of drones was wonderfully small; even the constitutionally lazy
could not resist the golden incentives to labor. Money was looked upon
with very different eyes there and at the East. No one took the trouble
to dispute prices; and a man who landed with an article rare or
desirable could often obtain twenty times its value. Within ten minutes
of his arrival Tom witnessed a case of this kind.

Just as he was entering Montgomery street he noticed a man--evidently a
new-comer--with a fine bunch of pineapples in his hand. He had just
arrived in the steamer Columbus, then anchored out in the stream.

"I shouldn't mind having one of those pineapples," said Tom to Ferguson.

"Doubtless they are high-priced, being a rarity," said the Scotchman.

Just then a passer-by, attracted like Tom, and feeling a similar
longing, stepped up to