CHAPTER XVI.
FERDINAND B. KENSINGTON.
It has already been mentioned that John Clapp and Luke Harrison wereintimate. Though their occupations differed, one being a printer andthe other a shoemaker, they had similar tastes, and took similarviews of life. Both were discontented with the lot which Fortune hadassigned them. To work at the case, or the shoe-bench, seemedequally irksome, and they often lamented to each other the hardnecessity which compelled them to it. Suppose we listen to theirconversation, as they walked up the village street, one evening aboutthis time, smoking cigars.
"I say, Luke," said John Clapp, "I've got tired of this kind of life.Here I've been in the office a year, and I'm not a cent richer thanwhen I entered it, besides working like a dog all the while."
"Just my case," said Luke. "I've been shoe-makin' ever since I wasfourteen, and I'll be blest if I can show five dollars, to save mylife."
"What's worse," said Clapp, "there isn't any prospect of anythingbetter in my case. What's a feller to do on fifteen dollars a week?"
"Won't old Anderson raise your wages?"
"Not he! He thinks I ought to get rich on what he pays me now," andClapp laughed scornfully. "If I were like Ferguson, I might. Henever spends a cent without taking twenty-four hours to think it overbeforehand."
My readers, who are familiar with Mr. Ferguson's views and ways oflife, will at once see that this was unjust, but justice cannot beexpected from an angry and discontented man.
"Just so," said Luke. "If a feller was to live on bread and water,and get along with one suit of clothes a year, he might savesomething, but that aint _my_ style."
"Nor mine."
"It's strange how lucky some men are," said Luke. "They get richwithout tryin'. I never was lucky. I bought a ticket in a lotteryonce, but of course I didn't draw anything. Just my luck!"
"So did I," said Clapp, "but I fared no better. It seemed as ifFortune had a spite against me. Here I am twenty-five years old, andall I'm worth is two dollars and a half, and I owe more than that tothe tailor."
"You're as rich as I am," said Luke. "I only get fourteen dollars aweek. That's less than you do."
"A dollar more or less don't amount to much," said Clapp. "I'll tellyou what it is, Luke," he resumed after a pause, "I'm getting sick ofCentreville."
"So am I," said Luke, "but it don't make much difference. If I hadfifty dollars, I'd go off and try my luck somewhere else, but I'llhave to wait till I'm gray-headed before I get as much as that."
"Can't you borrow it?"
"Who'd lend it to me?"
"I don't know. If I did, I'd go in for borrowing myself. I wishthere was some way of my getting to California."
"California!" repeated Luke with interest. "What would you do there?"
"I'd go to the mines."
"Do you think there's money to be made there?"
"I know there is," said Clapp, emphatically.
"How do you know it?"
"There's an old school-mate of mine--Ralph Smith--went out there twoyears ago. Last week he returned home--I heard it in a letter--andhow much do you think he brought with him?"
"How much?"
"Eight thousand dollars!"
"Eight thousand dollars! He didn't make it all at the mines, did he?"
"Yes, he did. When he went out there, he had just money enough topay his passage. Now, after only two years, he can lay off and livelike a gentleman."
"He's been lucky, and no mistake."
"You bet he has. But we might be as lucky if we were only out there."
"Ay, there's the rub. A fellow can't travel for nothing."
At this point in their conversation, a well-dressed young man,evidently a stranger in the village, met them, and stopping, askedpolitely for a light.
This Clapp afforded him.
"You are a stranger in the village?" he said, with some curiosity.
"Yes, I was never here before. I come from New York."
"Indeed! If I lived in New York I'd stay there, and not come to sucha beastly place as Centreville."
"Do you live here?" asked the stranger.
"Yes."
"I wonder you live in such a beastly place," he said, with a smile.
"You wouldn't, if you knew the reason."
"What is the reason?"
"I can't get away."
The stranger laughed.
"Cruel parents?" he asked.
"Not much," said Clapp. "The plain reason is, that I haven't gotmoney enough to get me out of town."
"It's the same with me," said Luke Harrison.
"Gentlemen, we are well met," said the stranger. "I'm hard upmyself."
"You don't look like it," said Luke, glancing at his rather flashyattire.
"These clothes are not paid for," said the stranger, laughing; "andwhat's more, I don't think they are likely to be. But, I take it,you gentlemen are better off than I in one respect. You've gotsituations--something to do."
"Yes, but on starvation pay," said Clapp. "I'm in the office of the'Centreville Gazette.'"
"And I'm in a shoemaker's shop. It's a beastly business for a youngman of spirit," said Luke.
"Well, I'm a gentleman at large, living on my wits, and pretty poorliving it is sometimes," said the stranger. "As I think we'll agreetogether pretty well, I'm glad I've met you. We ought to know eachother better. There's my card."
He drew from his pocket a highly glazed piece of pasteboard, bearingthe name,
FREDERICK B. KENSINGTON.
"I haven't any cards with me," said Clapp, "but my name is JohnClapp."
"And mine is Luke Harrison," said the bearer of that appellation.
"I'm proud to know you, gentlemen. If you have no objection, we'llwalk on together."
To this Clapp and Luke acceded readily. Indeed, they were ratherproud of being seen in company with a young man so dashing in manner,and fashionably dressed, though in a pecuniary way their newacquaintance, by his own confession, was scarcely as well off asthemselves.
"Where are you staying, Mr. Kensington?" said Clapp.
"At the hotel. It's a poor place. No style."
"Of course not. I can't help wondering, Mr. Kensington, what canbring you to such a one-horse place as this."
"I don't mind telling you, then. The fact is, I've got an old auntliving about two miles from here. She's alone in the world--gotneither chick nor child--and is worth at least ten thousand dollars.Do you see?"
"I think I do," said Clapp. "You want to come in for a share of thestamps."
"Yes; I want to see if I can't get something out of the old girl,"said Kensington, carelessly.
"Do you think the chance is good?"
"I don't know. I hear she's pretty tight-fisted. But I've run onhere on the chance of doing something. If she will only make me herheir, and give me five hundred dollars in hand, I'll go toCalifornia, and see what'll turn up."
"California!" repeated John Clapp and Luke in unison.
"Yes; were you ever there?"
"No; but we were talking of going there just as you came up," saidJohn. "An old school-mate of mine has just returned from there witheight thousand dollars in gold."
"Lucky fellow! That's the kind of haul I'd like to make."
"Do you know how much it costs to go out there?"
"The prices are down just at present. You can go for a hundreddollars--second cabin."
"It might as well be a thousand!" said Luke. "Clapp and I can'traise a hundred dollars apiece to save our lives."
"I'll tell you what," said Kensington. "You two fellows are just thecompany I'd like. If I can raise five hundred dollars out of the oldgirl, I'll take you along with me, and you can pay me after you getout there."
John Clapp and Luke Harrison were astounded at this liberal offerfrom a perfect stranger, but they had no motives of delicacy aboutaccepting it. They grasped the hand of their new friend, and assuredhim that nothing would suit
them so well.
"All right!" said Kensington. "Then it's agreed. Now, boys, supposewe go round to the tavern, and ratify our compact by a drink."
"I say amen to that," answered Clapp, "but I insist on standingtreat."
"Just as you say," said Kensington. "Come along."
It was late when the three parted company. Luke and John Clapp weredelighted with their new friend, and, as they staggered home withuncertain steps, they indulged in bright visions of future prosperity.