“These people are very quick to remember how Americans like things served,” said Mr. Whyland. “That is why you do not notice any great difference from a Broadway restaurant.”
The meal finished, their friend settled the bill as he had agreed. Oliver and Gus thanked him, and the former promised to pay back their share as soon as the steamer was reached.
“There is no need to trouble yourself. It was but fifty cents—twenty-five apiece,” said Mr. Whyland. “What were you young men doing? taking a look around?”
“Yes,” replied Oliver; “but there doesn’t seem to be much to see.”
“You are right; Aspinwall is not a very attractive city—that is, by comparison with what we have left. It is almost too unhealthy to thrive.”
On the way back to the steamer the three became even better acquainted than before. The gentleman asked where the two boys were bound, and stepped back in astonishment when Oliver, in a burst of confidence, told him that, while Gus was off merely for a trip, he himself was in quest of a hidden mine in California.
“Surely, surely you are joking!” gasped Mr. Whyland.
“No, sir; I am telling the truth,” affirmed Oliver. “I would not tell you at all, but you have been so kind to me.”
“And may I ask where this mine is situated—in what direction?”
“It is somewhere on the Mokelumne River.”