The Young Explorer; Or, Claiming His Fortune by Jr. Horatio Alger (best classic books to read .txt) 📕

for he had heard much of such places, but never seen one.

"It's the devil's den," said the man bitterly. "I wish I'd never seen it."

"Have you been unlucky?"

"Look here, boy, jest look at me," said the stranger. "An hour ago I was worth a thousand dollars in gold-dust-took six months' hard work to scrape it together at the mines-now I haven't an ounce left."

"Did you lose it there?" asked Ben, somewhat startled.

"Well, I staked it, and it's gone."

"Have you nothing left?"

"Not an ounce. I haven't enough to pay for a bed."

"What will you do for a place to sleep?" inquired Ben, to whom this seemed an alarming state of things.

The stranger shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't worry about that," he said. "I'll stretch myself out somewhere when night comes. I'm used to roughing it."

"Won't you get cold sleeping out of doors?" asked Ben.

The other gave a short, quick laugh.

"What do you take me for, boy? I don't look delicate, do I?"

"Not very," answered Ben, smiling.

"I've slept out under the stars pretty reg'lar for the past six months. I only wish I was back to the mines."

"Do you think I can go in?" Ben said hesitatingly.

"Yes, youngster, there's nothin' to bender, but take a fool's advice, and ef you've got money in your pocket, don't do it."

"You don't think I'd gamble, do you?" said Ben, horror-struck.

"I've seen youngsters smaller than you bet their pile."

"You won't catch me doing it. I am a poor boy, and have nothing to lose."

"All right, then. You're a country boy, ain't you?"

"Yes."

"So was I once, but I've had the greenness rubbed off'n me. I was jest such a youngster as you once. I wish I could go back twenty years."

"You're not very old yet," said Ben, in a tone of sympathy. "Why don't you reform?"

"No, I'm not old-only thirty-six-and I ain't so bad as I might be. I'm a rough customer, I expect, but I wouldn't do anything downright mean. Ef you're goin' into this den, I'll go with you. I can't take care of myself, but mayhap I can keep you out of danger."

"Thank you, sir."

So Ben and his new acquaintance entered the famous gambling-den. It was handsomely furnished and decorated, with a long and gaily appointed bar, while the mirrors, pictures, glass, and silverware excited surprise, and would rather have been expected in an older city. There were crowds at the counter, and crowds around the tables, and the air was heavy with the odor of Chinese punk, which was used for cigar-lights, The tinkle of silver coin was heard at the tables, though ounces of gold-dust were quite as commonly used in the games of chance.

"I suppose a good deal of money is won here?" said Ben, looking around curiously.

"There's a good deal lost," said Ben's new acquaintance.

"Gentlemen, will you drink with me?" said a young man, with flushed face, rising from a table near-by, both hands full of silver and gold, "I've been lucky to-night, and it's my treat."

"I don't care if I do," said Ben's companion, with alacrity, and he named his drink.

"What'll the boy have?"

"Nothing, thank you," answered Ben, startled,

"That won't do. I insist upon your drinking," hiccuped the young man, who had evidently drunk freely already. "Take it as a personal insult, if you don't."

"Never mind the boy," said his new friend, to Ben's great relief. "He's young and innocent. He hasn't been round like you an' me."

"That's so," assented the young man, taking the remark as a compliment. "Well, here's to you!"

"I wouldn't have done it," said Ben's new friend rejoining him; "but it'll help me to forget what a blamed fool I've been to-night. You jest let the drink alone. That's my advice."

"I mean to," said Ben firmly. "Do people drink much out here?"

"Whisky's their nat'ral element," said the miner. "Some of 'em don't drink water once a month. An old friend of mine, Joe Granger, act'lly forgot how it tasted. I gave him a glass once by way of a joke, and he said it was the weakest gin he ever tasted."

"Are there no temperance societies out here?" asked Ben.

The miner laughed.

"It's my belief that a temperance lecturer would be mobbed, or hung to the nearest lamppost," he answered.

It is hardly necessary to say that even in 1856 intemperance was hardly as common in California as the statements of his new friend led Ben to suppose. His informant was sincere, and spoke according to his own observation. It is not remarkable that at the mines, in the absence of the comforts of civilization, those who drink rarely or not at all at home should seek the warmth and excitement of drink.

"What's your name, boy?" asked the miner abruptly.

"Ben Stanton."

"Where were you raised?"

Though the term was a new one to Ben, he could not fail to understand it.

"In the State of Connecticut."

"That's where they make wooden nutmegs," said the miner, "isn't it?"

"I never saw any made there," answered Ben, smiling.

"I reckon you've come out here to make your fortin?"

"I should like to," answered Ben; "but I shall be satisfied if I make a living, and a little more."

"You'll do it. You look the right sort, you do. No bad habits, and willin' to work hard, and go twenty-four hours hungry when you can't help it."

"Yes."

"Where'll you go first?—to the mines, I reckon."

"Yes," answered Ben, reflecting that he would be most likely to find Richard Dewey at some mining-settlement.

"Ef I hadn't been a fool, and lost all my money, I'd go along with you."

"I should like the company of some one who had already been at the mines," said Ben.

Then it occurred to him that his new acquaintance might possibly have encountered Dewey in his wanderings. At any rate, it would do no harm to