CHAPTER XVIII. A TRUE FRIEND.

The next morning, as Grant was enjoying a few minutes’ rest, breakfast being over, he was surprised by the entrance of Giles Crosmont. It seemed pleasant to see a familiar face.

“I am glad to see you, Mr. Crosmont,” he said warmly. “Will you have breakfast?”

“No; I am staying at the hotel and have already breakfasted. I have come in to see you.”

“I am glad to see you, sir. I was afraid we would not meet again. How did you know where to find me?”

“I met Tom Cooper on the street early this morning.”

“Tom has gone to the mines.”

“So he told me. That is, he told me he was to start this morning. You intended to go to the mines, did you not?”

150“Yes, sir.”

“Then why didn’t you go?”

“I hadn’t money enough,” answered Grant candidly.

“That needn’t have prevented your going.”

Grant looked inquiringly at Mr. Crosmont.

“I mean that I would have lent you a hundred dollars. That would have been enough, wouldn’t it?”

“It would have been ample. You are very kind, Mr. Crosmont.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? I have more money than I know what to do with.”

“But I might never have been able to repay you.”

“I would have taken the risk of that. Besides, to be frank, I should have intended the money as a gift, not a loan.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Grant gratefully. “I never met such kindness before.”

“Do you wish to give up your situation, and go to the mines at once?”

“No, sir. I enjoy feeling that I am so well paid for my labor. You see I never earned 151much before; Mr. Tarbox only gave me my board.”

“And how much are you paid for your services here?”

“Three dollars a day and my board,” answered Grant proudly.

“That is indeed high pay for a boy of your age. If you will let me advise you, don’t let it make you extravagant. Don’t form the habit of gambling. I notice there are several gambling saloons here.”

“No, sir, I won’t. I know nothing about cards.”

“You could soon learn.”

“Thank you for your advice, Mr. Crosmont.”

“I give it because I feel an interest in you, Grant. I can’t explain why, for I have met a good many young persons in my travels, and never was drawn to any one as I am drawn to you.”

“I am glad to have so good a friend, Mr. Crosmont,” said Grant earnestly.

“And I am glad to have found some one in whom I can feel an interest. I begin to feel that there is some object in living.”

152“Are you going to remain in Sacramento, Mr. Crosmont?”

“No, I start this afternoon for San Francisco.”

Grant’s countenance fell. Just as he had ascertained how true and reliable a friend Mr. Crosmont was, he was destined to part with him.

“Then I shall not see you again,” he said soberly.

“I hope you will, Grant,” returned Mr. Crosmont, with a friendly smile. “Indeed, I mean that you shall. I don’t propose to lose sight of you. How long do you think you shall remain in your present employment?”

“One month, and possibly two. I would like to get a good sum of money together before I start. I shall need to buy a few things.”

“What things?”

“Some underclothing, a new pair of shoes, and a new suit. The clothes I have on were pretty well worn out by the trip across the plains.”

“Don’t trouble yourself about that. I will 153take your directions on the size, and send you what you need from San Francisco.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Crosmont. It will save me a good deal of money.”

“You will need all the money you can earn. Now I will give you my address in San Francisco, and if you have any occasion to ask help or advice write unhesitatingly. I shall travel a part of the time, but I shall always answer your letters as soon as I receive them.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You have no father. Look upon me as a father or guardian, whichever you please. This will be my address.”

He took a card from his pocket, and wrote upon it, under his name, “Care of C.D. Vossler, Jeweler, Market St., San Francisco.”

“Mr. Vossler is an old friend of mine,” he said, “and he will take care of any letters that come directed in this way. I don’t know where I shall put up, so that it will be best always to address me, when you write, in his care.”

“Thank you, sir. I will remember.”

154“Yes; don’t lose the card.”

Mr. Crosmont left the restaurant, and Grant did not again see him before his departure. He felt cheered to think he had found such a friend. Two thousand miles from home, it was worth a good deal to think that, if he were sick or got into trouble he had a friend who would stand by him, and to whom he could apply for help or advice.

The next day, in an hour which was given him during the time when business was slack, Grant went round to see Mr. Cooper.

He found the blacksmith busy in his shop. He had bought the little cabin opposite, and his family had already moved in.

“It didn’t take me long to get established, Grant,” he said with a well-satisfied smile.

“No, sir. I was quite taken by surprise to hear it.”

“I did a good thing in coming to California. I am convinced of that. Why, Grant, how much do you think I took in for work yesterday?”

“Ten dollars,” suggested Grant.

“Better than that—seventeen! Why, at 155this rate, I shall be able to buy back my old place in a year out of my savings.”

“I am glad to hear of your good luck, Mr. Cooper.”

“You have got employment, too, Grant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How much are you paid?”

“My board and three dollars a day.”

“Why, that’s fine, and you only sixteen years old, too. I shall be well pleased if Tom does as well at the mines.”

“If he does well, I expect to join him in a month or two.”

“I don’t know as it’s wise. Perhaps you had better stay where you are.”

“I might not make as much money, but I should not be satisfied to come to California and not go to the mines.”

“That’s just exactly what I am going to do. Me and mother are better off in Sacramento. However, you are young, and that makes a difference.”

“I must leave you now, Mr. Cooper, and get back to business.”

“Are you a good deal confined?”

156“Yes, that’s the worst of it. I have to be at the restaurant in the evening till ten o’clock, but I can get off for an hour every afternoon.”

“Well, come out and see us often. I would invite you to come and take supper some night, but I suppose you couldn’t accept.”

“No, Mr. Cooper, thanking you just the same.”

“You haven’t been homesick yet, Grant, have you?”

“No; except the first day, when I didn’t know how I was coming out.”

“And you wouldn’t like to be back on Mr. Tarbox’s farm again?”

“Not much; but I should like to see mother again, if only for a few minutes.”

“If you do well, and carry home a good sum of money, you can make things comfortable for her, you know.”

“That’s what I am thinking of all the time.”

Grant took leave of the blacksmith and went back to work. He was glad to think he had some one to call upon who reminded him of home. He worked long hours, though the 157labor could not be considered hard. There was one other waiter beside himself, a young man of twenty-five, named Albert Benton. He was thin and dark-complexioned, and Grant, without being able to explain why, conceived a dislike to him. He saw that Benton was inclined to shirk work, though he received higher pay than his young associate. He was paid five dollars per day and had a room outside. Mr. Smithson, the proprietor of the restaurant, had desired him to sleep in a small room over the restaurant, but he had declined to do so. Upon this the same request was made of Grant, and he complied, glad to save the price of lodging elsewhere. When the restaurant closed at ten o’clock, frequently Grant would go out for a short walk, as it was a relief to breathe the fresh outside air after being confined in the close atmosphere of the eating-house during the day and evening. Generally he and Benton went out together, but his companion soon left him, finding a simple walk entirely too slow and unexciting for his taste.