It was this notice that had first put it into the head of Chase’s new acquaintance to work his way back to his home in Indiana; and near the bottom was something that had escaped his eye:
“For further particulars and transportation, apply at the Company’s Office, No. [54] K street, Sacramento.”
“Humph! we are no better off now than we were before,” said Chase, who remembered enough of his geography to know that Sacramento was some distance from San Francisco. “How are we ever going to get to the company’s office.”
“Go right aboard that steamer you see up there,” said a man, who was standing near enough to them to overhear their conversation. “She goes to Vallejo, and from there you can take the train to Sacramento.”
“Without a cent in our pockets?” asked Chase’s companion.
“Yes, if you will contract to work on the railroad for one month.”
“I will, and be glad of the chance,” said Chase. “We are obliged to you for the information.”
Chase and his friend hurried back to the steamer, and going on board seated themselves near a group of men who were congregated on the lower deck. They were rough-looking fellows, of all nationalities, and as many of them were talking earnestly in their own tongue—although nobody appeared to be listening to them—the hubbub that arose made Chase wonder. Like himself, they were bound for the company’s office; and he shovelled dirt and blasted rocks in company with some of them for many a day afterward.
During the run up the bay Chase told his new friend, who said his name was George Brown, something of his history, and in return Brown gave him a sketch of his own life. It did not take him long to do it, for he had nothing interesting or exciting to tell. He had left a comfortable home in the States, hoping to acquire a fortune in a few days in California. He had gone first to the mines, and, although he had seen men take gold in paying quantities from holes almost by the side of the one in which he was working, he had not been able to earn enough to pay for his provisions. He had finally become a teamster, and on more than one occasion had been glad to saw wood for his breakfast. He was bound to get home now in some way, and when he once got there he would stay. If he had worked half as hard on his farm as he had worked in California for the last three years, he would have had money in the bank.