“Oh, yes.”
“To a boy like you, the possession of money seems sure to bring happiness.”
“In my case, yes. Remember, Mr. Crosmont, I have a mother to care for. I should like to take her from Mr. Tarbox’s house, where she is a slave, and give her a nice home of her own. That wouldn’t take more than two thousand dollars, and with the balance I could go into business.”
“Yes, you have your mother to live for,” said Crosmont; and he dropped into a thoughtful mood.
“Will you go to the mines also?” asked Grant, less from curiosity than in order to break the silence.
“No—yes; I will go with you for a time; but the mines have no attraction for me.”
“Don’t you care for gold?”
“I have enough already.”
Then, seeing that Grant’s curiosity was excited, he added: “I don’t mind telling you, Grant, that I am a rich man, rich beyond my wants, and I have no temptation to increase my wealth.”
Grant regarded his companion with the respect that a boy of his age is apt to feel for a rich man—so rich that he doesn’t care to increase his wealth.