"And I am very glad to give it to you. In what direction do you propose to journey!"
"Westward, sir. I haven't any very clear ideas further than that."
"Shall you go as far as Colorado?"
"Yes, sir; I think so."
"I have a nephew out there somewhere—Henry Thorp—a young man of twenty-five. He is probably mining, but I don't know his location. Should you run across him, ask him to communicate with me. His aunt and myself will be glad to hear from him."
"I will not forget it, sir," said Dean, though he thought it quite improbable that he and the nephew referred to would ever meet.
Dr. Thorp took his leave, and Dean soon after took leave of the Gunnison family. He was pressed to remain and play another game of baseball, but felt that he could not spare the time.
A week later found Dean only a hundred miles farther on his way. He might have accomplished this distance on the cars in a few hours, but he preferred to make a leisurely trip, looking out for a chance to earn money on the way. But after a season of prosperity a dull time had come to him. During the week he did not make a single dollar. He encountered several fair-sized towns, but did not feel able to give an entire entertainment himself. His stock of money dwindled, and he began to feel anxious.
Towards nightfall he found himself apparently at a distance from any town, and began to feel some solicitude as to where he could pass the night. It was a mountain region, and the day seemed to be shorter than on the plains. The air was chilly, and Dean felt that it would be dangerous to spend the night out of doors.
In this emergency he was pleased to descry a rough cabin a hundred feet from the road.