ver," said the squire, in a tone of decision.

"What do you think of the prospects in California?" asked Mark Nelson.
"You are a man of business, and can judge better than I. Are the stories
we hear of fortunes made in a short time to be relied upon?"

"As to that," said the squire deliberately, "I suppose we can't believe
all we hear; we must make some allowances. But, after all, there's no
doubt of the existence of gold in large quantities; I am satisfied of
that."

"Then about the wisdom of sending out a boy like Tom, alone; do you
think it best?"

"It depends altogether on the boy," responded the squire. "If he is
honest, industrious, and energetic, he will make his way. You know your
own boy better than I do."

"He is all you say, Squire Hudson. I have a great deal of confidence in
Tom."

Tom looked at his father gratefully. Sometimes it does a boy good to
learn that the older people have confidence in him.

"Then let him go," said the squire. "I stand ready to furnish the money.
I think you said you needed two hundred dollars."

This question was put to Tom, and the boy answered in the affirmative.

"Very well," said the squire. "As soon as the necessary writings are
made out, the money shall be ready."

"It's all settled!" thought Tom triumphantly.

At that moment Sinclair Hudson, the squire's only son, opened the door
and looked into the room.

"Hello, Tom Nelson," said he, rather rudely. "What brings you here?"

CHAPTER VI.

TOM ARRIVES IN PITTSBURG.

"I came on business, Sinclair," answered Tom, smiling.

"Thomas is going to California, Sinclair," explained Squire Hudson.

Sinclair opened wide his eyes in amazement. "What for?" he asked.

"To dig gold and make my fortune," answered Tom complacently.

"Come out and tell me all about it."

"You can go, Thomas," said Squire Hudson graciously. "Your father and I
will settle the business."

"Is it true that you are going to California?" asked Sinclair, when they
were out in the front yard.

"Yes."

"How soon do you go?"

"I want to get away in a week."

"What has my father to do with it?" inquired Sinclair.

"He is going to lend me the money to get there."

"How much?"

"Two hundred dollars."

"Then he is a greater fool than I thought," said Sinclair, with
characteristic politeness.

"Why do you say that?" demanded our hero, justly nettled.

"Because he'll never see the money again."

"Yes, he will. My father is re