Meanwhile Tom, happily unconscious that the money entrusted to John Miles had been lost, continued to work diligently at his claim. His success varied from day to day; but, on the whole, he was gaining. He spent nothing except for absolute necessities, and in spite of all temptations he gave a wide berth to Missouri Jack's saloon. In this way he gained the ill-will of the saloon-keeper, who felt a certain portion of every miner's gains ought to find its way into his till.
One evening Tom met the saloon-keeper when out walking. The latter had not at that time given up securing Tom's patronage.
"Good-evening, young feller," said Jack.
Tom answered the greeting politely.
"Why don't you come round to the saloon evenings? We always have a jolly crowd there. After a hard day's work it'll do you good to take a social glass."
"I would rather not drink, thank you," said Tom.
"You ain't afraid of a little drink, I hope, are you?"
"Yes, I would rather let it alone."
"Oh, you're too good to live," said Jack, in deep disgust.
"I hope not," answered Tom, smiling; "for I hope to live a good many years."