“Was your father ever in California?”
“He may have been, sir; but I was so young when he died that I don’t know much about his history.”
“What is that number on your cap?”
“I am Number 91, and work for the District Telegraph Company.”
“Number 91? Well, my boy, I hope you’ll excuse the liberty I took in addressing you. The California miners are rather unceremonious. I suppose you think it strange?”
“No, sir, not at all,” returned Paul, politely. “I am glad to have made your acquaintance.”
As he left the ferry, and lost sight of his questioner, he regretted that he had not at least inquired his name.
“He may have known my father,” thought Paul, “and I should be glad to meet some of his friends. I don’t think old Jerry knows much about him. I am getting tired of living with the old man, and should like to meet some relative or friend of whom I need not be ashamed.”