ure was decided. His father and mother retired to bed, but
not to sleep. They were parting already in imagination with their
first-born, and the thought of that parting was sad indeed.

CHAPTER V.

TOM RAISES THE MONEY.

Tom got up early the next morning--in fact, he was up first in the
house--and attended to his usual "chores." He was splitting wood when
his father passed him on the way to the barn with the milk-pail in his
hand.

"You are up early, Tom," he said.

"Yes," answered our hero.

Tom could not help wondering whether his father had come to any decision
about letting him go to California; but he did not like to ask. In due
time he would learn, of course. He felt that he should like to have it
decided one way or the other. While his plans were in doubt he felt
unsettled and nervous.

At an early hour the family gathered about the breakfast table. Tom
noticed that his father and mother looked grave, and spoke in a subdued
tone, as if they had something on their minds; but he did not know what
to infer from this, except that they had his prospects still in
consideration.

When breakfast was over, Mark Nelson pushed back his chair, and said:
"How soon can you get Tom ready to start, Mary?"

"Am I going, father?" asked Tom, his heart giving an eager bound.

"Is Tom really going?" asked the younger children, with scarcely less
eagerness.

"If Squire Hudson doesn't go back on his promise. Tom, you can go with
me to the squire's."

"How soon?"

"In about an hour. He doesn't breakfast as early as we do. I think he
will be ready to receive us in about an hour."

"Thank you, father," said Tom. "You are doing a great deal for me."

"I can't do much for you, my boy. I can probably get you to California,
and then you will be thrown upon your own exertions."

"I mean to work very hard. I think I shall succeed."

"I hope so, at least, Tom. When the time comes to start the other boys,
I shall be glad to have your help in doing it."

Tom was pleased to hear this, though it placed upon his shoulders a new
and heavy responsibility. He was assuming the responsibility not only
for his own future, but for that of his brothers. But it made him feel
more manly, as if the period of his dependent boyhood were over, and he
had become a young man all at once.

"I hope I sha'n't disappoint you, father," he said.

"If you do, I don't think it will be your fault, Tom," said his father
kindly. "Fortune may