Before they went, the two had a chance for a speculation. Two weeks before, a man came to River Bend, across the country, with a horse and wagon, the latter an old express wagon, which he had brought round the Horn from some one of the Eastern States. What had induced him to take so much trouble to convey such bulky articles was not quite clear. Now that he was a miner he had no use for them, and at River Bend they were not saleable. This man, Abner Kent, came to Ferguson's tent, where he and Tom were resting after the labors of the day. He was a tall man, with a shambling gait and an angular face.
"Good-evening," he said. "If you ain't busy I'll sit down a few minutes."
"We are glad to see you Mr. Kent," said Ferguson. "Tom and I were discussing our plans, but we've plenty of time for that. Come in. Here's a place for you."
"I hear that you are going to leave us, you two?"
"Yes, Tom has some business in San Francisco, and I want to see a little more of the country."
"How are you going?"
"We'll take the cars if we can find any," answered Tom. "If we can't we'll foot it."
"That's what I came to see you about. You know I've got a horse and wagon."
"Yes."
"Why don't you buy it? You'll go easier and quicker."