A CONVERSATION OF IMPORTANCE.
Oliver Bright was sure that he was going to hear something of
importance, and he determined that not a word of the conversation
between Colonel Mendix and Ezra Dodge should escape him. With his eyes
fixed upon the circular in his hand, he kept his ears wide open for
whatever might be said.
“Yes, about the Aurora mine,” rejoined Ezra Dodge. “I want to know if
you have a clear title to it?”
“Why, of course――that is, I and another have.”
“Then that’s all right. I wanted to know what I was loaning money on.”
“Didn’t I give enough other security?” asked the colonel, with a slight
sneer in his tones.
“Certainly. If you hadn’t I wouldn’t have loaned you a dollar. Why,
I don’t even know where your mine is located, excepting that it is
somewhere on the Mokelumne River.”
“Well, whether you know it or not, the mine is there, and that is
enough for me.”
“Does it pay?”
“Perhaps it does.”
“Are you working it?”
“Perhaps I am.”
“Oh, pshaw! if you don’t want to say anything about it, tell me so,”
cried Ezra Dodge, in evident disgust.
“Well, I don’t. What I want to know is, where can that machinery be
bought?”
“Right in San Francisco.”
“You are sure?”
“Positive. If you don’t care to believe me, buy it in New York and have
it shipped out.”
“Come, Dodge, don’t get mad. If I want to keep the location of my mine
to myself, it ought to be all right. I intend”――
Oliver did not hear any more of the conversation. The clerk in the
establishment approached him, and talked stocks so persistently that
the boy was glad to escape from the office.
He had, however, overheard several important facts. The mine was
located on the Mokelumne River; Mendix did not care to speak of its
value, but was evidently investing considerable money in buying
machinery, which would tend to show that the claim was worth a good
deal.
“How fortunate that I met the man!” thought Oliver. “I wouldn’t have
missed this chance for a hundred dollars! And to tell father that he
was in South America while he has been in California all the while! On
the Mokelumne River. That ought not to be so hard to locate.”
Oliver did not stop to consider that the spot mentioned was many miles
in extent, and in a very wild and mountainous region. His mind was
filled only with the desire to reach the place, and view with his own
eyes his father’s property.
Walking to the opposite side of the street, he stood in the shadow of a
doorway and waited for Colonel Mendix to appear. Five minutes passed,
and then the man came from Ezra Dodge’s office, walked up Wall Street,
and turned down into Broad.
Oliver followed him as best he could, but suddenly Mendix turned
another corner, and before the boy could reach the spot the man had
disappeared.
In vain Oliver hunted up and down and in the several side streets;
Colonel Mendix was nowhere to be seen, and after half an hour’s search
Oliver gave up the task.
It was now half-past twelve, and walking about had made Oliver hungry.
He moved along until he came to a restaurant, and entering, ordered
dinner.
While at the table he was astonished at the bustle and confusion around
him. It was true he had been to the metropolis many times, but on every
succeeding occasion the city seemed to be more busy, more full of life.
Having eaten his meal, and settled the amount of the check at the desk,
Oliver sauntered out upon the street once more. He had a day and a half
before him, and hardly knew what to do. He walked up Nassau Street to
Park Row, and then turning, drifted with the tide of humanity down
Broadway. The knowledge that he was carrying so much cash about worried
him, but each time he felt for it he found that his money was still
safe in the inside pocket of his vest.
At length Oliver reached the Battery, and sat down on one of the
benches that line the promenades. His long walk in the afternoon sun
had tired him, and his head was beginning to ache.
The sights around him interested him not a little. Directly opposite to
him was a poor women with a sick baby, the little thing fairly gasping
for breath. To his right sat a shabby workman, or he might have been
a tramp, half asleep, and beside him a tall, gaunt, almost starved
looking boy, certainly not much older than himself.
Upon another bench three emigrant Germans were holding an animated
conversation in their own tongue, though Oliver occasionally heard the
names Chicago and Milwaukee mentioned.
The sick baby interested the boy most of all. His heart ached to see
the little one in such misery, and when he saw the mother wipe the
tears from her eyes, he hastily rose and walked over to her.
“You seem in distress,” he said kindly. “Can I do anything for you?”
She looked up into his honest, open face.
“My baby is so sick!” she cried. “I would not care if it was myself――but
baby”――and she broke down completely.
“You ought to go to a doctor,” he went on.
“Alas! I have no money!” she replied. “I spent the last fifty cents I
had yesterday.”
Oliver’s hand went down into his pocket on the instant. He could ill
spare the money, but he would have done anything rather than refuse the
woman assistance.
“Here is a dollar for you,” he said, holding out that amount. “I wish I
could make it more; but that will help you some.”
For an instant the woman stared at him. Then she snatched the silver
coin from his hand.
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” she cried; “I did not expect it. You are
too kind.”
“I would advise you to get medicine for the baby at once.”
“I will, sir; I know something that I think will just cure my poor
Ellie. Oh, thank you, sir, and God bless you!”
And with tears of joy streaming down her face the woman hurried away.
A warm feeling surged through Oliver’s heart as he slowly followed, the
feeling that always comes when one has done a noble action.
“Poor woman, poor baby,” he murmured to himself. “I hope she gets the
medicine and that it cures her Ellie. What a dear baby it was!”
He had hardly gone a dozen steps before he felt a hand upon his
shoulder. It was the gaunt-looking boy.
“Will you please help me a little?” he asked pleadingly. “I have been
out of work for three weeks and can’t get anything to do anywhere.”
“You are telling the truth?” asked Oliver sharply, to make sure that he
was not being deceived.
“Yes, sir. I worked in Haddan’s piano action factory that burnt down.”
“And you cannot get work anywhere?”
“No, sir. Oh, you don’t know how hard I have tried! Every morning I
answer the advertisements in the papers, but there are always a hundred
men for one place.”
By the way the boy spoke Oliver knew that he told the truth. He
hesitated for a moment, and then handed out another dollar.
“There,” he said. “I cannot afford that very well, but I hate to see
any one in want. I hope by the time that is gone you will find work.
Are you alone in the world?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then, if you cannot get work here, I advise you to strike out for some
other place.”
“Thank you; I won’t stay in New York much longer.”
Oliver did not reply, and the two separated.
“Cannot find work anywhere,” mused the boy; “it must be hard indeed.
What will father and I do if the Aurora mine scheme proves a failure? I
would be nearly as badly off as that poor chap. God grant it does not
come to that!”