“Take your meals here till we go.”
“Well, I’m in luck,” said Bickford. “Victuals cost awful out here and I haven’t had as much as I wanted to eat since I got here.”
“Consider yourself my guest,” said Joe, “and eat all you want to.”
It may be remarked that Mr. Bickford availed himself of our young hero’s invitation, and during the next twenty-four hours stowed away enough provisions to last an ordinary man for half a week.
CHAPTER XXV
THE MAN FROM PIKE COUNTY
Four days later Joe and his Yankee friend, mounted on mustangs, were riding through a cañon a hundred miles from San Francisco. It was late in the afternoon, and the tall trees shaded the path on which they were traveling. The air was unusually chilly and after the heat of midday they felt it.
“I don’t feel like campin’ out to-night,” said Bickford. “It’s too cool.”
“I don’t think we shall find any hotels about here,” said Joe.
“Don’t look like it. I’d like to be back in Pumpkin Hollow just for to-night. How fur is it to the mines, do you calc’late?”
“We are probably about half-way. We ought to reach the Yuba River inside of a week.”