Some days passed. The new-comer did not appear to find anything to do. He had sauntered out to the claim worked by Grant and Tom, and looked on, but had made no discoveries. He did not know whether to think they were prospering¹ or not. He determined² to obtain some information, if possible, from his landlord.

One morning, after the two friends had gone to work, he lingered at the table, asking for an extra cup of coffee as a pretext³ for remaining longer.

“Do you think my friend Grant and his chum are doing well?” he remarked carelessly.

“They can’t be making much,” answered Paul. “I think they are fools to waste their time here.”

“They must be making something,” said 247Mrs. Crambo. “They pay their board bills regularly.”

“Do they pay in gold-dust?”

“No; in coin.”

“Humph! what do they do with the gold-dust they get from the mine?”

“I don’t know. I never inquired.”

This was meant as a hint that Benton was unnecessarily curious, but he never took such hints.

“Is there any place in the village where they can dispose of it?”

“No,” answered Paul; “not that I know of. They would have to send it by express to Sacramento or San Francisco.”

“Where did you know Mr. Colburn?” asked Mrs. Crambo.

“We were employed together in Sacramento.”

“He seems to be a fine boy—or young man, perhaps I ought to call him. So steady, so regular in his habits.”

Benton shrugged⁴ his shoulders.

“Oh, he’s well enough,” he answered, “but he’s mighty⁵ close with his money.”

248“I approve of young men being economical,” said Mrs. Crambo.

“But not tight. Why, I once asked Grant to lend me five dollars and, would you believe it, he wouldn’t do it.”

“Did he receive more pay than you?”

“I should say not. I received a good deal higher pay than he, as I ought to, being older and more experienced.”

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