“Could you—you are so kind—pay my expenses to the mines? I should so like to see my friend Tom.”
“No, I couldn’t,” answered Grant bluntly.
“I thought I would ask,” said Silverthorn, by no means abashed. “Tell Mr. Cooper that I will soon call at his shop.”
“I don’t think he will care to see you,” thought Grant.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE FIRST DAY AT THE MINES.
About three o’clock in the afternoon the stage from Sacramento arrived at Howe’s Gulch.
Among the other passengers Grant descended, his limbs sore from rattling over the roughest kind of roads, and stretching himself, he looked around him.
The stage had drawn up in front of the hotel, but it was not such a hotel as the reader is accustomed to see. It was a long, low frame building, with what might be called an attic overhead, which was used as a general dormitory, with loose beds of straw spread over the floor. Here twenty-five persons slept in a single room. Down below rude meals were supplied for those who could afford to pay the price.
But Grant felt little interest in the hotel. He expected to meet Tom Cooper, and looked out for him.
He had not long to wait.