(Pro tem) to you both.
At last, scarcely able to stand up, we reached Madera.
Afraid that the Sugar Pine Company would indict us for deserting, we spent our last penny for a ticket to Fresno, Cal.
We got a job at Madera's planing mill in Fresno and found a lodging house at No. 846 I street, run by a Mrs. Dora Harrell, a widow.
Two days later we were discharged, Mr. Madera saying that we were the slowest two young men that had ever worked for him.
The fact is, the two days he paid us for was like finding money, for after that long tramp in the Sugar Pine Mountains we were too weak to work. It was about all we could do to stand around the mill and watch the others work.
Franck now placed his grip in the express office and bade me good-bye, saying he was going to hobo it to Los Angeles.
I refused to accompany him, relating my "Robert Smith" experience, but he was bent upon going, and with tears in our eyes we parted.
Not long after I was taken ill, and for two weeks I was unable to leave my room.
My money was all gone and I was in debt to my landlady for board.