“A week ago.”
“Are you a Southerner?” asked Joe demurely.
“No, I guess not!” said the Yankee, with emphasis.
“I was raised in Pumpkin Hollow, State of Maine. I was twenty-one last first of April, but I ain’t no April fool, I tell you. Dad and me carried on the farm till I began to hear tell of Californy. I’d got about three hundred dollars saved up and I took it to come out here.”
“I suppose you’ve come out to make your fortune?”
“Yes, sir-ee, that’s just what I come for.”
“How have you succeeded so far?”
“I’ve succeeded in spendin’ all my money, except fifty dollars. I say, it costs a sight to eat and drink out here. I can’t afford to take but one meal a day, and then I eat like all possessed.”
“I should think you would, Mr.——”
“Joshua Bickford—that’s my name when I’m to hum.”