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Updated: June 5, 2025
I gave it to her to do what she liked with it, but I'm afraid she'll be worrying over what I think of it, as if she did not know me! And I'm half a mind, if it were not for missing her, to go over to Boomville, where she's stopping." "I thought you said she was in San Francisco?" said Demorest abstractedly. Barker colored. "Yes," he answered quickly.
As he was climbing the slope the coach from Sacramento dashed past him on the road below, but he knew that it had changed horses at Boomville at four o'clock, and that his tired wife would not have availed herself of it at that hour, particularly as she could not have yet received the fateful news.
Yet he had seen nothing in his companions' eyes but affection with even a certain kind of tender commiseration that deepened his uneasiness. "I suppose," he said desperately, after a pause, "I ought to go over to Boomville and make some inquiries." "At the bank, old chap; at the bank!" said Demorest emphatically.
"Why, Barker boy, you haven't got a bit older since the day when you remember you went over to Boomville to cash your bonds, and then came back and burst upon us like this to tell us you were a beggar." "Yes," laughed Barker, "and all the while you fellows were holding four aces up your sleeve in the shape of the big strike."
As he went on in the vivifying influence of the air and scene, new life seemed to course through his veins; his step seemed to grow as elastic as in the old days of their bitter but hopeful struggle for fortune, when he had gayly returned from his weekly tramp to Boomville laden with the scant provision procured by their scant earnings and dying credit.
Come to me." Then he left the hotel by the stable entrance in order to evade the guests who had congregated on the veranda, and made his way to a little wooded crest which he knew commanded a view of the two roads from Boomville. Here he determined to wait and intercept her before she reached the hotel.
Stacy took up the waiting card, read it, said to the messenger, "Show him in," and in the same breath turned to his guest: "I say, Van Loo, it's George Barker! You know him." "Yes," said Van Loo, with a polite hesitation as he halted at the door. "He was I think er in your employ at Heavy Tree Hill." "Nonsense! He was my partner. And you must have known him since at Boomville. Come!
Well, I sunk twenty thousand dollars in that, and might have lost more, only Carter Kitty's father persuaded me he's an awful clever old fellow into turning it into a kind of branch hotel of Boomville, while using it as a hotel to take poor chaps who couldn't pay, at half prices, or quarter prices, PRIVATELY, don't you see, so as to spare their pride, awfully pretty, wasn't it? and make the hotel profit by it."
"You know I never meant that, Miss Kitty," burst out Barker vehemently, but his protest was drowned in a rapid roulade from the young lady's fingers on the keys. He sank back in his chair. "Of course you never MEANT it," she said with an odd laugh; "but everybody will take it in that way, and you cannot go round to everybody in Boomville and make the pretty declaration you have just made to me.
We may have other things to think about soon." Thus adjured, Barker rose from his half-finished breakfast and slipped away. Yet he was not quite certain what to do. His wife must have heard the news at Boomville as quickly as he had, and, if so, would be on her way with Mrs. Horncastle; or she might be waiting for him knowing, too, that he had heard the news in fear and trembling.
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