ich he stood in need was difficult
to decide. Moneyed men were not plenty at River Bend. Captain Fletcher
and his party had been at work but a short time, and were not likely to
have collected much.

As we know, Bill Crane overheard a part of the closing conversation
between Tom and John Miles. From this he learned that Miles, besides his
own money, would be in charge of seventy-five dollars belonging to our
young hero. It was not much, but it was something.

"If the whole doesn't come to over two hundred dollars, I can make it
do," thought Crane. "It will get me out of this beastly hole, and carry
me to San Francisco."

John Miles slept by himself under a small tent at the northern end of
the small encampment. He looked like a man who ate well and slept well,
and this would be favorable to Bill Crane, who proposed to effect the
robbery in the night. He had half a mind to secure the aid of Missouri
Jack, but then Jack would expect to go shares in the "plunder," and
there was likely to be little enough for one. So Bill decided to make
the attempt alone.

In a small camp like that at River Bend, the movements and plans of each
individual were generally known. So it was generally understood that
John Miles intended to start on Thursday for the city.

The previous evening he spent with Tom and Ferguson, with whom he was
more intimate than any others of the party. He would not have been drawn
to the Scotchman, but for his being Tom's room-mate. Through him he came
to appreciate and respect the Scot's sterling virtues, and to overlook
his dry, phlegmatic manner.

"I hope you'll have good luck, Mr. Miles," said Tom.

"Thank you, my boy."

"I would join with my young friend Tom," said Ferguson, "if I were quite
clear in my mind whether good luck is the right term to use."

"Don't you think some men are luckier than others, Mr. Ferguson?" asked
Tom.

"Some men are more successful, doubtless; but what we call good luck,
generally comes from greater industry, good judgment, and, above all,
the prompt use of opportunities."

"There is something in that," said Miles; "but when two men work side by
side with equal industry, and one finds a nugget worth thousands of
dollars, while the other plods along at a few dollars a day, isn't there
some luck there?"

"It may be so," said the Scotchman, cautiously, "but such cases are
exceptional."

"So one boy is born to an inheritance of wealth and another to an
inheritance of