“Of course it is,” said Seth. “Why, that’s Joe Mason, isn’t it? How you’ve grown since I saw you.” “Do you think I have?” said Joe, pleased with the assurance. “To be sure you have. Why, you’re a big boy of your age. How old are you?” “Fifteen---nearly sixteen.” “That’s about what I thought. Where are you livin’ now, Joe?” “I’m working for Major Norton.” Seth burst into a laugh. “I warrant you haven’t made your fortune yet, Joe,” he said. “I haven’t made the first start yet toward it.” “And you won’t while you work for the major. How much does he pay you?” “Board and clothes.” “And them are the clothes?” said Seth, surveying Joe’s appearance critically. “Yes.” “I guess the major’s tailor’s bill won’t ruin him, then. Are they the best you’ve got?” “No; I’ve got a better suit for Sunday.” “Well, that’s something. You deserve to do better, Joe.” “I wish I could,” said Joe wistfully. “Is there any chance for a boy in California, Mr. Larkin?” “Call me Seth. It’s what I’m used to. I don’t often use the handle to my name. Well, there’s a chance for a boy, if he’s smart; but he’s got to work.” “I should be willing to do that.” “Then, if you ever get the chance, it won’t do you any harm to try your luck.” “How much did you say it costs to get there?” “Well, maybe you could get there for a hundred dollars, if you wasn’t particular how you went.” A hundred dollars! It might as well have been ten thousand, as far as Joe was concerned. He received no money wages, nor was he likely to as long as he remained in the major’s employ. There was a shoe shop in the village, where money wages were paid, but there was no vacancy; and, even if there were, Joe was quite unacquainted with the business, and it would be a good while before he could do any more than pay his expenses. Joe sighed as he thought how far away was the prospect of his being able to go to California. He could not help wishing that he were the possessor of the magic carpet mentioned in the Arabian tale, upon which the person seated had only to wish himself to be transported anywhere, and he was carried there in the twinkling of an eye. Joe walked home slowly, dreaming of the gold-fields on the other side of the continent, and wishing he were there. CHAPTER IV JOE’S LEGACY The next day was Saturday. There was no school, but this did not lighten Joe’s labors, as he was kept at work on the farm all day. He was in the barn when Deacon Goodwin, a neighbor, drove up. Oscar was standing in front of the house, whittling out a cane from a stick he had cut in the woods. “Is Joe Mason at home?” the deacon inquired. Oscar looked up in surprise. Why should the deacon want Joe Mason? “I suppose he is,” drawled Oscar. “Don’t you know?” “Probably he is in the barn,” said Oscar indifferently. “Will you call him? I want to see him on business.” Oscar was still more surprised. He was curious about the business, but his pride revolted at the idea of being sent to summon Joe.