“Yes. Is there anything strange about it?”
“Well, there’s this—it’s the last and only piece of property now belonging to Nahum Stockton. If you are acquainted with the tax-collector, don’t mention it, for I wouldn’t like to be assessed on it.”
“I will respect your wishes, Mr. Stockton,” said Tom, laughing. “May I ask what are your plans?”
“If I can buy a claim for a quarter, I will settle down here and dig for gold.”
Tom looked at Grant, and Grant nodded, for he read his friend’s thought.
“Having so much money,” said Tom soberly, “you’d better buy a couple of claims.”
“That’s a good joke,” returned Stockton, with a grim smile.
“No joke at all! My friend and I own a couple of claims, and we leave Howe’s Gulch to-morrow. We will make them over to you without money and without price. As to a cradle, you can buy one on instalments.”
“Do you mean it?” asked Stockton eagerly.
“Yes; but I don’t want to deceive you in the matter. They haven’t been paying very well lately, and Grant and I are going elsewhere to prospect.”