“Can’t you take me into partnership?” he asked.

“We can, but I don’t think we will, Hogan,” said Mr. Bickford.

“It wouldn’t pay.  If you don’t like workin’ for us, you can take a claim of your own.”

“I have no tools.”

“Why don’t you save your money and buy some, instead of gamblin’ it away as you are doin’?”

“A man must have amusement,” grumbled Hogan.  “Besides, I may have luck and win.”

“Better keep clear of gamblin’, Hogan.”

“Mr. Hogan, if you want to start a claim of your own, I’ll give you what tools you need,” said Joe.

Upon reflection Hogan decided to accept this offer.

“But of course you will have to find your own vittles now,” said Joshua.

“I’ll do it,” said Hogan.

The same day he ceased to work for the firm of Bickford & Mason, for Joe insisted on giving Mr. Bickford the precedence as the senior party, and started on his own account.

The result was that he worked considerably less than before.  Being his own master, he decided not to overwork himself, and in fact worked only enough to make his board.  He was continually grumbling over his bad luck, although Joshua told him plainly that it wasn’t luck, but industry, he lacked.

“If you’d work like we do,” said Bickford, “you wouldn’t need to complain.  Your claim is just as good as ours, as far as we can tell.”

“Then let us go in as partners,” said Hogan.

“Not much.  You ain’t the kind of partner I want.”

“I was always unfortunate,” said Hogan.

“You were always lazy, I reckon.  You were born tired, weren’t you?”

“My health ain’t good,” said Hogan.  “I can’t work like you two.”

“You’ve got a healthy appetite,” said Mr. Bickford.  “There ain’t no trouble there that I can see.”

Mr. Hogan had an easier time than before, but he hadn’t money to gamble with unless he deprived himself of his customary supply of food, and this he was reluctant to do.

“Lend me half-an-ounce of gold-dust, won’t you?” he asked of Joe one evening.

“What do you want it for—­to gamble with?”

“Yes,” said Hogan.  “I dreamed last night that I broke the bank.  All I want is money enough to start me.”

“I don’t approve of gambling, and can’t help you.”

Hogan next tried Mr. Bickford, but with like result.

“I ain’t quite such a fool, Hogan,” said the plain-spoken Joshua.

About this time a stroke of good luck fell to Joe. bout three o’clock one afternoon he unearthed a nugget which, at a rough estimate, might be worth five hundred dollars.

Instantly all was excitement in the mining-camp, not alone for what he had obtained, but for the promise of richer deposits.  Experienced miners decided that he had, struck upon what is popularly called a “pocket,” and some of these are immensely remunerative.