“One dollar.”
“I wish my bed was large enough to hold two; you should be welcome to a share of it. But they don’t provide very wide bedsteads in this country.”
Mr. Folsom’s bed was about eighteen inches wide.
“Thank you, sir,” said Joe; “I shall do very well in the tent, I am sure.”
“I am thinking of making a trip to the mines with my friend Carter,” continued Folsom. “Very likely we shall start to-morrow. Do you want to go with us?”
“I expect to go to the mines,” said Joe, “but I think I had better remain awhile in San Francisco, and lay by a little money. You know I am in debt.”
“In debt?”
“Yes, for my passage. I should like to pay that off.”
“There is no hurry about it, Joe.”
“I’d like to get it off my mind, Mr. Folsom.”