“Yes. I have too many interests in San Francisco to keep away. I want to go home and establish my mother comfortably. Then I can return with a cheerful heart.”
“How will you go back—over the plains?”
“No, once is enough for me. I will go to New York by steamer, and then take the railroad to Iowa.”
The next day, and before Grant could get ready to start, he received another letter.
This was from Tom Childs, a schoolfellow and intimate friend. Here it is:
Dear Grant:
I got your address from your mother, and I am going to write you a short letter. I wish I could see you, for you were one of my most intimate friends. I hope you are doing well, and so do all the boys wish you well except one. That one is Rodney Bartlett, who is now living here in Woodburn. He and his mother are up at the old farm, and your mother has been turned out. It is a great shame, I think, and so does the whole village. Mr. Tarbox’s death seemed very sudden, but people think he worried to death. Anyhow, Mrs. Bartlett has got the whole property, except a thousand dollars, which were left to Rodney.
You ought to see that boy strut ’round. He ‘feels his oats’ as father says. He’s got a gold watch, a very showy one, and takes it out every five minutes to look at it. You would think he was a millionnaire by the airs he puts on. The other day he asked me: “Do you ever hear from Grant Colburn?”
I answered that I was going to write you.
“He was a great fool to go to California,” said Rodney.