ARRIVAL AT SACRAMENTO.
At length the little party reached Sacramento. This was already a place
of some importance, as it was in the neighborhood of the mining region,
and it was here that mining parties obtained their outfits and came at
intervals to bring their gold dust and secure supplies. Situated, as it
was, on the Sacramento River, with communication with San Francisco by
water, it was, besides, the starting-point of numberless lines of stages
bound for the different mines. For a town of its size the activity
seemed almost incredible. The party went to a hotel, where, for very
indifferent accommodations, they were charged five dollars a day. To the
blacksmith, accustomed to village prices, this seemed exorbitant.
“We needn’t engage board till night,“ suggested Tom. “We’ll take our
meals at a restaurant till then.”
They were all hungry, and this suggestion seemed a good one. Looking
about, Tom found a small, one-story building, on the front of which was
this sign:
METROPOLITAN HOTEL AND RESTAURANT.
“What do you ask for breakfast?” inquired Tom, entering.
“A dollar a head!”
“A dollar!” repeated Mrs. Cooper, in dismay.
“Tom,” said Mr. Cooper, “I haven’t had a civilized meal or sat down at a
table for months. No matter what it costs, I’m going to have breakfast
now.”
“All right, father! I guess I can do my share of eating.”
Grant listened with dismay to the announcement of prices. Of all the
money he had brought with him he had but ten dollars left. How long
would it last?
“Grant, are you going to join us?” asked Tom.
“I don’t know as I can afford it,” answered Grant anxiously.
“We can’t any of us afford it,” returned Mr. Cooper. “Sit down, boy, and
we’ll borrow trouble afterward.”
“Now,” said Mr. Cooper, as he rose from the table, “I’ll take a turn
round the town and see what information I can gain. I’ll turn in the
wagon into the yard alongside. Mrs. Cooper, will you keep your eye on it
while the rest of us go on a tour of inspection? I don’t think the oxen
will be likely to run away,” he added jocosely.
“All right, father.”
Mr. Cooper, Tom, and Grant set out in different directions.
Grant started on his walk feeling sober, if not depressed. Here he was,
two thousand miles from his old home, with only nine dollars in his
pocket, and the prices for living extortionate. How was he to get to the
mines? Before he could get ready to leave Sacramento his money would be
exhausted. Since he left home, four months before, Grant hadn’t felt so
perplexed and disturbed.
He had walked only five minutes, when he found himself in front of the
Sacramento Hotel, the largest in the place.
Half a dozen stages were in the street outside, each drawn by four
horses, and each bearing the name of some mining camp to which it
proposed to carry passengers. The drivers were calling lustily for
recruits. This was what Grant heard—“All aboard for Hangtown! Only four
seats left! Who’s going to Gold Gulch? Now’s your chance! Get you
through in six hours. Start in fifteen minutes for Frost’s Bar! Richest
diggings, within fifty miles!”
“I wonder what they charge,” thought Grant. “I’ll ask.” He went up to
the stage bound for Weaver Creek, and inquired the fare.
“Carry you through for ten dollars,” was the reply. “Jump aboard. We’ll
start in half an hour.”
“No,” answered Grant slowly. “I shan’t be ready by that time. Besides, I
have only nine dollars.”
“I’ll take you to Frost’s Bar for that,” said the driver of the Frost’s
Bar stage.
“I suppose you will,” interposed the Weaver Creek driver with a sneer.
“Your regular charge is only seven dollars. You want to cheat the boy
out of two dollars.”
This led to an altercation between the rival drivers, in which some
blows were exchanged, but neither was hurt. Before they had finished
Grant had passed on. He knew that, with his limited capital, he could
not afford to go to either place and arrive at the mines without a
penny.