“Mining, I believe. He’s bought the Ezra Jones place, and is going to put up a nice house.”
Among the most interested listeners was Grant Colburn. His color went and came, and he seemed excited.
“How long was Mr. Heywood in California,” he asked.
“About a year. He was gone a good deal longer, for he went across the plains, and it took four months. He came back across the Isthmus.”
“I would like to go California,” said Grant thoughtfully.
“You go to California! A boy like you!” repeated Mrs. Bartlett scornfully. “What could you do?”
“I could make more money than I do here,” answered Grant with spirit.
“I reckon you won’t go in a hurry,” said Seth Tarbox composedly. “You haven’t money enough to get you twenty-five miles, and I s’pose it’s as much as two thousand miles from Iowa to Californy.”
Grant felt that there was a good deal of truth in his step-father’s words, but the idea had found lodgment in his brain, and was likely to remain there.
“I mean to go sometime!” he said resolutely.