"What, Mark, are you in favor of his going so far—a boy who has never been away from home in his life?"
"I don't know what to say. I have not had time to consider the matter, as it has come upon me suddenly. I have a good deal of confidence in Tom, but there is one difficulty in my mind."
"What is that, father?" asked Tom anxiously.
"The expense of getting to California, and the method of raising the money; I don't like to increase the mortgage."
"I suppose you are right, father," said Tom slowly. "I know it is more than I have any right to ask. I wouldn't even have mentioned it if I hadn't hoped to help you to pay it back."
"That is understood, Tom," said his father kindly. "I know you mean what you say, and that you would redeem your promise if fortune, or rather Providence, permitted. It is a serious matter, however, and not to be decided in a hurry. We will speak of it again."
Nothing more was said about Tom's plan till after the children had gone to bed. Then, as Mark Nelson and his wife sat before the fire in the open fireplace, the subject was taken up anew.
"Mary," said Mark, "I am beginning to think favorably of Tom's proposal."
"How can you say so, Mark?" interrupted his wife. "It seems like madness to send a young boy so far away."
"Tom can't be called a young boy; he is now sixteen."