Part 46 (2/2)
”But I may as well get more. I am only thirty years old, and I can afford to work a few years longer.”
”I wish I could be sure of being worth fifty thousand dollars when I am your age.”
”You have been worth that, you tell me.”
”Yes, but I should value more money that I had made myself.”
Above five o'clock on Monday afternoon Mr. Pettigrew and Rodney reached Burton. It was a small village about four miles from the nearest railway station. An old fas.h.i.+oned Concord stage connected Burton with the railway. The driver was on the platform looking out for pa.s.sengers when Jefferson Pettigrew stepped out of the car.
”How are you, Hector?” said the miner, in an off hand way.
”Why, bless my soul if it isn't Jeff!” exclaimed the driver, who had been an old schoolmate of Mr. Pettigrew's.
”I reckon it is,” said the miner, his face lighting up with the satisfaction he felt at seeing a home face.
”Why, you ain't changed a mite, Jeff. You look just as you did when you went away. How long have you been gone?”
”Four years!”
”Made a fortune? But you don't look like it. That's the same suit you wore when you went away, isn't it?”
Mr. Pettigrew laughed.
”Well no, it isn't the same, but it's one of the same kind.”
”I thought maybe you'd come home in a dress suit.”
”It isn't so easy to make a fortune, Hector.”
”But you have made something, ain't you?”
”Oh, yes, when I went away I hadn't a cent except what I borrowed. Now I've got five hundred dollars.”
”That ain't much.”
”No, but it's better than nothing. How much more have you got, Hector?”
”Well, you see I married last year. I haven't had a chance to lay by.”
”So you see I did as well as if I had stayed at home.”
”Are you going to stay home now?”
”For a little while. I may go back to Montana after a bit.”
”Is it a good place to make money?”
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