“I made a mistake to stay in San Francisco. I should at once have gone to the mines,” thought Tom. “Now I haven’t money enough to leave the city. I must find something to do.”
He came to a small wooden building, used as a clothing store. Besides ordinary clothing it contained outfits for miners, and as profits were enormous, doubtless the business was a profitable one. Tom might have passed without taking particular notice if he had not heard sounds of altercation and loud voices as he approached. Then a young man of twenty-one, or thereabout, ran hastily out, pursued by a stout man of middle age, whose inflamed countenance showed that he was angry. The young man, however, was the better runner, and the elder was compelled to give up the pursuit.
Tom stood still and regarded the scene with interest and curiosity. He was still standing in front of the shop when the pursuer returned.
“What is the matter, sir?” asked Tom.
“Matter!” repeated the other vehemently. “I’ll tell you what’s the matter. That young man is a thief.”
“Did he pick your pockets?”
“No, but he might as well. He was my clerk. I engaged him two months since, and only to-day I found out that he has been robbing me systematically. He has taken hundreds of dollars probably. If I could only get hold of him, I would give him a lesson he would never forget.”
Here was Tom’s chance, and he lost no time in pushing it.
“Then you have no clerk now?” he said.
“No, and I don’t know where to get one that I can trust.”