"Going for twenty-five cents. Going once; going twice; going – "
"Thirty cents."
"Thirty cents! Gentlemen, I am really astonished at you. It is a disgrace for me to take notice of that bid. Why, just look at that box. A miser may have hidden the secret of a gold-mine in it. Here it is, neatly dovetailed, and put together with screws instead of nails; and who knows but that it contains the treasure of a lifetime hidden away under that lid? And I am bid only thirty cents for it. Do I hear any more? Won't somebody give me some more? Going for thirty cents once; going twice; going three times, and sold to that lucky fellow who stands there with a uniform on. I don't know what his name is. Step up there and take your purchase, my lad, and when you open that box, and see what is in it, just bless your lucky stars that you came to this office this afternoon to buy yourself rich."
It happened in the Adams Express office, and among those who always dropped around to see how things were going was the young fellow who had purchased the box. It was on the afternoon devoted to the sale of "old horse" – packages which had lain there for a long time and nobody had ever called for them. When the packages accumulated so rapidly that the company had about as many on hand as their storeroom could hold, an auctioneer was ordered to sell them off for whatever he could get. Of course nobody could tell what was in the packages, and somebody always bought them by guess. Sometimes he got more than his money's worth, and sometimes he did not. That very afternoon a man bought a package so large and heavy that he could scarcely lift it from the counter, and so certain was he that he had got something worth looking at that he did not take the package home with him, but borrowed a hammer from one of the clerks and opened it on the spot, the customers all gathering around him to see what he had. To the surprise of everybody, he turned out half a dozen bricks. A partner of the man to whom the box was addressed had been off somewhere to buy a brickyard, and, not satisfied with the productions of the yard, had enclosed the bricks to the man in St. Louis, to see how he liked them. The purchaser gazed in surprise at what he had brought, and then threw down the hammer and turned away; but by the time he got to the door the loud laughter of everybody in the office – and the office was always full at the sale of "old horse" – caused him to arrest his steps. By that time he himself was laughing.
"I'll tell you what it is, gentlemen," said he; "those bricks, which are not worth a nickel apiece, cost me just two dollars."
He was going on to say something more, but the roar that arose caused him to wait until it was all over. Then he went on:
"I have spent fifty dollars for 'old horse,' and if anybody ever knows me to spend another dollar in that way I will give him my head for a football. A man who comes here to squander his money for anything like that is a dunce, and ought to have a guardian appointed over him. I wish you all a very good day."
But in spite of this man's experience, Julian Gray had invested in this box because he thought there was something in it. He did not care for what the auctioneer said to him, for he talked that way to everybody; but Julian knew there were no bricks in it, for it was done up too neatly. The box was not more than twelve inches long and half as wide, and by shaking it up and down the boy became aware that there were papers of some kind in it. He paid the clerk the amount of his bid upon it, picked up his purchase, and started for the door, paying no heed to the remarks that were offered for his benefit. There he met another boy, dressed in a uniform similar to the one he himself wore, and stopped to exchange a few words with him.
"Well, you got something at last," said the boy. "It is not bricks, I can swear to that."
"No, sir, it is not," said Julian. "Lift it. It contains papers of some kind."
"Why don't you open it, and let us see what is in it?"
"I won't do that, either. I am not going to have the whole party laughing at me the way they served that man a little while ago. Come up to my room when Jack comes home, and then I will open it."
"I would not be in your boots for a good deal when Jack sees that box," said the boy, hurrying away. "He says you have no business to spend the small earnings you get on such gimcracks as 'old horse.'"
"I don't care," said Julian, settling the box under his arm and going away in the opposite direction. "I've got the box, and if Jack does not want to see what is in it, he need not look."
Julian broke into a run, – he knew he had no business to spend as much time in that express office as he had done, – and in a few minutes reached the headquarters of the Western Union Telegraph Company, in whose employ he was. He laid down his book of receipts for the dispatches he had delivered, then picked up his box again and stowed it away under the counter, where he was sure it would be out of everybody's way.
"I don't care," Julian repeated to himself, when he recalled what his older companion, Jack Shelden, would have to say to him when he found that he had been investing in "old horse." "I don't know that I expect to make anything out of it, but somehow or other I can't resist my curiosity to know what is in those bundles. When you can get the packages for little or nothing, where's the harm? But that is no way to save my money. I will never go near that express office again."
With this good resolution, Julian took his seat among the other boys and waited in silence for the operator to call upon him to deliver a dispatch. It came at last, and during the rest of the afternoon Julian was kept busy. When six o'clock came he put his box under his arm and started for home. His duties were done for that day.
The place that Julian called home was a long way from the office, for, being a poor boy, he was obliged to room where he could get it as cheaply as possible. He passed along several streets, turned numerous corners, and finally sprang up the stairs in a sorry-looking house which seemed almost ready to tumble down, and when he reached the top he found the door of his room open. There he met his chum, who had already returned from his work, going about his preparations for supper, and whistling as though he felt at peace with himself and all the world.
"Halloo!" he exclaimed, as Julian came in. "What's the news to-day? Well, there. If you haven't been to that old express office again!"
These two boys were orphans – or at least Jack was. Julian had a stepfather who, when his mother died, told the boy that he could not support him any longer, and that he must look out for himself. He no doubt expected that the boy would find himself in the poorhouse before he had been long out of his care; but Julian was not that sort of a fellow. He wandered aimlessly about the streets, looking for something to do, sleeping in dry-goods boxes or on a plank in some lumber-yard; and one morning, while passing along the street, wondering where he was going to get something to eat, he saw a scene that thrilled him with excitement. A span of horses was running away, and a telegraph operator – Julian knew that he was an operator from the uniform he wore – in making an attempt to stop them, lost his footing and fell on the ground right in front of the frantic team. Julian was nearer to him than anybody else, and acting upon the impulse of the moment, but scarcely knowing why he did so, he dashed forward, seized the young man by the shoulders, and pulled him out of the way. It was all done in an instant, and Julian shuddered when he thought of what he had done.
"Thank you, my lad," said the man, when he got up, brushed the dust from his clothes, and looked after the flying horses. "You saved my life, but you couldn't save the man in the buggy. Now, what can I give you?"
"I don't want anything, sir," said Julian. The man was neatly dressed, and looked as though he had some money, and Julian had more than half a mind to ask him for enough with which to get some breakfast. But he concluded that he would not do it; he would look farther, and he was sure that he could get something to do, such as sweeping out a store, and earn some breakfast in that way.
"You don't want anything?" exclaimed the man. "Well, you are the luckiest fellow I ever saw!"
The man now turned and gave Julian a good looking over. It was not necessary that he should ask any questions, for poverty was written all over him.
"Where's your home?" he asked.
"I haven't any, sir."
"Have you had any breakfast?"
"No, sir."
"Well, here's enough to enable you to get a good fill-out," said the man, pulling out a dollar. "Get the very best breakfast you can, and then come down to the Western Union Telegraph office and ask for Wiggins. I will see what I can do for you."
The man hurried away, and Julian looked at the dollar he held in his hand, then gazed in the direction in which his benefactor had gone, and could hardly believe that he was awake. A dollar was a larger sum of money than he had ever had before.
Of course Julian followed the operator's instructions. When he reached the Western Union Telegraph office he was asked several questions about his habits, and what he knew about the city, and it finally ended by his being offered employment. Julian jumped at the chance. He had no money with which to purchase a uniform, but Wiggins got around that, and he had been there ever since, trying hard to do his duty, except in one particular, and his highest ambition was to become an operator.
Long before this time he made the acquaintance of Jack Sheldon, who finally came to room with him, and they had been fast friends ever since. Jack had formerly gained a good living by shining boots and shoes around the St. Louis foundry-works, until one day the master mechanic, who had taken a wonderful shine to him, offered to take him away from his blacking-brush and give him a position where he could make a man of himself. Jack was waiting for this, and he promptly closed with it. Of course his wages were small now, but he wanted to get away from the bootblacks and mingle with persons more like himself, and when Julian made him a proposition to take him in as a roommate, Jack was only too glad to agree to it. He was but a year older than Julian, but he often took it upon himself to advise him; and one thing he could not stand was Julian's longing to find out what was concealed in those packages that every once in a little while were sold in the express office. Being economical himself, and never spending a cent unless absolutely necessary, he wanted to make his companion so, too.
"That is no way for you to save money, Julian," said Jack. "To go to that express office when you ought to be at your work, and spending money for 'old horse' when you don't know what is in the bundle you bid on, is the very way for you to wear a poor man's clothes the longest day you live. I want to go into business myself some time, and I should think you would, too."
This was the way he talked to Julian every time he brought home a bundle of "old horse," and he was ready to talk to him now in the same way.
"Well, you have been to that old express office again and invested some of your hard earnings in 'old horse,' haven't you?" repeated Jack, placing his hands on his hips and looking sullenly at the box, which Julian placed upon the table. "Is that any way for you to save your money?"
"No, it is not; but, Jack, I've got something in this," said Julian. "See how nicely this box is done up – "
"I don't care to know anything about it," said Jack, turning away and going on with his preparations of getting supper. "That is the only thing I have against you. What do you care what is in those bundles? If they were worth anything don't you suppose that the people to whom they were addressed would have come after them? How much money have you got in bank, anyway?"
"About forty dollars, I guess, including tips and everything."
"Well, I've got a hundred," said Jack. "You will never be able to go into business by doing this way."
"Lend me your knife and talk about it afterward. I want to get these screws out."
"Take your own knife. I don't want to have mine broken."
"Well, I want you to remember one thing, Jack. If I get anything out of this box, it is mine entirely. You will have no interest in it."
"All right – I will agree to that."
Seeing that he must depend entirely upon himself to get his box open, Julian took his knife from his pocket and went to work upon the screws; but they had been put there to stay, and he finally gave it up in disgust. Then Jack relented and came to his assistance. The strong blade of his knife presently worked the screws loose, and the inside of the box was revealed to them. There was nothing but a mass of papers, which looked so ancient that Jack declared they had been through two or three wars. He took one look at them, and then went on with his work of getting supper.
"What's the use of fooling away your time with that stuff?" said he. "That's all your 'old horse' amounts to. If you are going to spend money in that way, I wish you would get something that is of some use."
Julian did not reply. He took his box to an out-of-the-way corner where he would not be in Jack's way, and devoted himself to the reading of the first paper he took up.
"Who's Haberstro?" said he.
"Don't know him," said Jack.
"Here's a letter addressed to him."
"What is in it?"
"Oh, you want to know something about it, now, don't you?"
"Of course I do. If we can find out who Haberstro is, we must take the letter to him."
Julian began and read the letter, which was written in a very plain hand, and before he had read a page of it he stopped and looked at Jack, while an expression of astonishment came to his face.
"Go on with it," said Jack; "we might as well know it all."
Julian "went on with it," and when he got through he had read a very good description of a gold-mine located somewhere out West, and inside the letter was a map which would lead anyone straight to it. There was one thing in it that did not look exactly right, and here is the passage that referred to it:
"They have got the story around that the mine is haunted, but don't you believe it. I worked for almost six months in that mine alone after my partner took sick and died, going down into it and shovelling the dirt in, coming up and hoisting the bucket out, and went through the process of washing, and I never found anything to scare me yet. I took out, with every bucketful I washed, anywhere from ten to fifty dollars; anyway, I got fifty thousand dollars out of it. There is one thing about it: the mine is fully five miles from anybody's place, and in all that region you won't find a man who will prospect anywhere near you. It shows that all the country about Dutch Flat is not played out yet."
A little farther on the letter spoke of the manner in which the miner came to turn his claim over to Haberstro:
"You know that very shortly after we got there my partner died, and was buried near the mine. Perhaps that has something to do with the story of the mine's being haunted. I went to work and dug in the claim alone, not knowing anything about mining, until I made the sum that I told you of. Finally I received a letter from some lawyer in Europe, who told me that my father had died and left me heir to all his wealth. He urged me to come home and settle my claim at once, and who should my mind revert to but to you, old fellow, who stood by me when I was sick unto death. I know that we did not have the stamps to buy a mule-halter, but that did not make any sort of difference to you. You stayed at my back until I got well; and as I can't pay you in any other way I give you this mine, hoping it will make you as rich as it did me. More than that, for fear that the mine may play out on you, which I don't believe, I give you the deeds of several little pieces of property located in Denver and vicinity, which you will find will be more than enough to run you, even if you don't choose to go mining. For me, nothing would suit me. You know how you used to rail at me because I wanted to go from one thing to another. After I had accumulated that property in Denver, I had to go and look for claims, and that is the way I come to have this mine.
"I send all these things to you by express, for I am in New York, now, and all ready to sail. By the time you get them I shall be on the deep sea. I forgot to say that the property which I have given to you for your kindness to me is worth, in round numbers, one hundred thousand dollars. Take it, and live happily with it. I don't know that I shall ever see you again; but if I do not, remember that my blessing always goes with you."
"Well, sir, what do you think of that?" said Julian, as he folded up the letter.
Jack Sheldon did not know what to say. He sat with a case-knife in his hand and with one leg thrown over the table, his mouth open, and listening with all his ears to the contents of the letter.
"I tell you that auctioneer uttered a prophecy when he said that some miser had hidden the secret of a gold-mine inside the lid of that box," said Julian. "He told me that when I got home and opened this thing I would bless my lucky stars that I had come to that office to buy myself rich."
"But there is one thing that you don't think of, Julian," replied Jack.
"What's that?"
"That we must make every effort to find this man Haberstro."
"Yes," said Julian, with a sigh, "I did think of that. But it seems hard to have so much money in our grasp, and then to have it all slip away."
"Of course it does. But that is the honest way of going at it."
"Here's the deeds for a block of buildings that cost this man twenty-five thousand dollars," said Julian, continuing to examine the papers in the box.
"Oh, put the box away," said Jack. "And he gives it all to this man Haberstro. We must find him, Julian, the first thing we do. Who's that coming upstairs, I wonder?"
The boys turned toward the door, which opened almost immediately, admitting Casper Nevins, the boy who had met Julian at the express office. There was something about the boy that Jack did not like. He could not have told what it was, but there are those we meet in every-day life who have certain traits of character that excite our suspicions. Jack had often warned Julian to keep away from him, and the latter did not cultivate his acquaintance any more that he could help; but, being employed in the same office that Casper was, of course he was thrown into his company oftener than he desired.
"Good-evening, boys," said Casper. "I was on my way home, and I thought I would drop in and see what Julian bought to-day at the express office. You promised to show me if I would come up," he added, turning to Julian.
"I did, and there it is," said Julian, passing over the letter. "Sit down in this chair. We are so poor just now that we have only one chair apiece, but when we get out to our gold-mine we shall have two chairs."
"Ah! You have a gold-mine, have you?" said Casper, with a smile. "When do you start?"
"Read the letter, and you will think we ought to start right away," said Julian, while Jack got up and proceeded with his supper. "We think of starting to-morrow morning."
"I would like to have my hand on your coat-tail about the time you get out there," said Casper. "Now, the question is, does the mine pay anything?"
"Read the letter, and you will understand as much as we do."
Casper began the letter, and he had not gone far with it before he broke out with "Jerusalem!" and "This beats me!" and "Fifty thousand dollars!" When he had got done with the letter, he folded it up and passed it back to Julian without saying a word.
"And that is not all of it," said the latter. "Do you see the rest of the papers there in that box? Well, they are deeds of property which amount to one hundred thousand dollars."
"Whew!" whistled Casper. "By gracious! You're lucky – are you not? When do you start?"
"Laying all jokes aside, we don't intend to start at all," said Jack.
"You don't?" exclaimed Casper. "Have you got something better on hand?"
"No, I don't know that we have; but our first hard work must be to find this man Haberstro. It would not be right for us to keep what is in that box without turning the city upside down in order to locate him."
"Why, the box was sold to you, was it not?" said Casper, turning to Julian.
"Of course it was. Didn't I pay thirty cents of my hard earnings for it?"
"Did you agree to hunt up this man Haberstro?"
"No, because the clerks did not know where he was."
"Then I say the box and everything in it belongs to you. Undoubtedly the man does not live here any more. He has gone somewhere else. I would not make a precious fool of myself, if I were you. Take the money and say nothing to nobody."
"And go out there and take possession of that property while there is another man waiting for it?" asked Jack, with some heat.
"Yes, sir; that's what I would do."
"Then, sir, you are not honest. I am glad you don't train in my crowd."
"I don't call it dishonest in holding fast to what you have. A hundred thousand dollars! You would not need to go mining at all."
"We are well aware of that; but we must find out where that man lives, if we can. After having exhausted every means to find out, then I would consider that the property belongs to us. Julian, we will have to see a lawyer about that."
"That's what I was thinking," said Julian.
"Well, of all the plumb dunces that ever I saw, you are the beat!" said Casper, getting up and putting on his hat. "I tell you that if that property was mine I would never let anyone know that I had it. I would throw up my position to-morrow, borrow money, go out there and take possession; and you are fools if you don't do it."
And Casper went out, slamming the door behind him.