Oscar had expressed a desire to assist him, and, consequently, it would not be wise to make him angry. “You told me that you had already helped one runaway, and that you would help me,” continued Tom, seating himself on the log by Oscar’s side, and laying his hand familiarly on his shoulder. “Now, let’s talk about that. How much are you going to give me, and how did you happen to strike it so rich? I mean, how did you manage to secure so large a haul and get away with it?” he added, seeing the inquiring look on his brother’s face. “Let me hear your story, and then you shall hear mine,” answered Oscar. “Tell nothing but the truth, now. How came you in this fix?” “Well, to make a long story short, I came out here with about fifteen hundred dollars in my pocket, intending to go to the mines, but—unfortunately for me—I struck Denver on the way, and stayed there until I had squandered all my money. Then I had to go to work. A fellow can’t live in this country without doing something to bring in the stamps, I tell you, for he has to pay two prices for all the necessaries of life. “The first position I managed to work myself into was that of mule-whacker—teamster, you know; but I didn’t understand the care of stock. I wasn’t strong enough to handle the heavy boxes and bales of freight, and after one of the mules had kicked me over a few times, I became sick of the job, threw it up, and went back to Denver. Everything there was full—more applicants than there were places for them to fill. “One day while I was wandering about the streets, waiting for something to turn up, I came across a college graduate who was sawing wood for his dinner. After a little talk with him, I made up my mind that I would have to come down to it, too, so I took in every job of that kind I could find, swept out saloons and stores—in fact, did anything that would bring me money enough to pay for a decent meal once a day.” “Where did you sleep?” asked Oscar. “In deserted shanties, principally,” was the reply. “When I was hungry or thirsty, and couldn’t find any way to earn money, I pawned some of the clothing I had purchased in St. Louis. At last I had nothing left but my overcoat, and I dared not think what I should do when that, too, was gone. But they say it is always darkest just before daylight, and, as it happened, I struck a lead just in the nick of time—struck it rich, too. “While I was sweeping out a saloon to pay for my breakfast, this man—who is now my partner—came in for his regular eye-opener. After he had drank it, he fell into conversation with two or three fellows who were sitting around, and then I learned that he was a professional wolfer. He said that he had made thirty-five hundred dollars out of his last season’s catch, and had come to the settlements to sell his plunder and have a good time. Having spent all his money, and winter being close at hand, he was getting ready to start out again. All he lacked was a companion, but he couldn’t find one.