“If he’ll be careful of what he gets. But much of our dust goes there.”
He pointed, as he spoke, to a small cabin, used as a store and gambling den at one and the same time. There in the evening the miners collected, and by faro, poker, or monte managed to lose all that they had washed out during the day.
“That’s the curse of our mining settlement,” said their informant. “But for the temptations which the gaming-house offers, many whom you see working here would now be on their way home with a comfortable provision for their families. I never go there, but then I am in the minority.”
“What did you used to do when you was to hum?” inquired Joshua, who was by nature curious and had no scruples about gratifying his curiosity.
“I used to keep school winters. In the spring and summer I assisted my father on his farm down in Maine.”
“You don’t say you’re from Maine? Why, I’m from Maine myself,” remarked Joshua.
“Indeed! Whereabouts in Maine did you live?”
“Pumpkin Hollow.”
“I kept school in Pumpkin Hollow one winter.”
“You don’t say so? What is your name?” inquired Joshua earnestly.