“That’s a queer boy,” said Tarbox to himself. “I don’t think he’s exactly right in his head. I’d ought to have got more than one dollar out of all the money the passengers raised for him; but still it’s something.”
When Grant came down stairs to breakfast the next morning he looked very cheerful, in spite of losing his money the night before, and laughed two or three times, without any apparent reason for doing so. Mr. Tarbox had suggested to his wife the propriety of giving up to him half the money she had received from Grant, but Mrs. Tarbox, yielding as she generally was, had positively refused. Indeed, Grant had made her promise to do so.
Grant’s new suit was finished in time for him to wear it on Sunday. He had great satisfaction in entering the village church decently clothed. Indeed, he felt that he was as well dressed as any boy in town, and this was for him a decidedly new sensation.
Grant had one hundred and twenty-seven dollars left in the hands of Luke Weldon. He withdrew ten dollars, and bought some shirts and underclothing. This did not come to the notice of Mr. Tarbox, who was under the impression that Grant’s stock of money was exhausted. Had he known the truth, he would have moved heaven and earth to get hold of the balance of Grant’s little fortune.
Grant was anxious to see John Heywood, the returned Californian. He was more than ever determined to leave the service of his step-father, and make a bold stroke for a fortune. All day he thought of the Golden State of the Pacific Coast, and all night he dreamed of it. For him it had the greatest fascination. The idea of wandering across the continent to this wonderful new land became strengthened, and he felt that, with the sum he had at command, he would be able to do it. He spoke of it to his mother privately, and, though it made her feel anxious, he succeeded in persuading her that it would be for the best.
But he could do nothing without seeing John Heywood, and getting more information. He thought of going to Crestville, and accordingly, one morning after breakfast, he started without notifying Mr. Tarbox, and walked the whole distance—six miles.
Mr. Heywood lived half a mile this side of the village, and Grant had the luck to find him at home.
“Good-morning, Grant,” said the young man. “What brings you to Crestville so early?”
“I came to see you, Mr. Heywood.”
“You did? Well, I’m glad to see you. Won’t you come into the house?”