wealth, I suppose. At least, he was poor enough before the mine was
sold."

"What are you talkin' about? Heman got his start tradin' over in the
South Seas. Sellin' the Kanakas glass beads and calico for pearls and
copra--two cupfuls of pearls for every bead. Anyhow, that's the way the
yarn goes."

"I can't help that. He was just a common sailor who had run away from
his ship and was gold mining in California. And when he and his partner
struck it rich father borrowed money, headed a company, and bought them
out. That mine was the Excelsior, and it's just as productive to-day
as it ever was. I rather think Atkins must be very sorry he sold. I
suppose, by right, I should be very grateful to your distinguished
representative."

"Well, I do declare! Sho, sho! Ain't that funny now? He's never said a
word about it at home. I don't believe there's a soul in Bayport knows
that. We all thought 'twas South Sea tradin' that boosted Heman. And
your own dad! I declare, this is a small world!"

"It's odd father never told you about it. It's one of the old
gentleman's pet stories. He came West in 1850, and was running a little
shipping store in 'Frisco. He met Atkins and the other young sailor,
his partner, before they left their ship. They were in the store, buying
various things, and father got to know them pretty well. Then they
ran away to the diggings--you simply couldn't keep a crew in those
times--and he didn't see them again for a good while. Then they came
in one day and showed him specimens from a claim they had back in the
mountains. They were mighty good specimens, and what they said about the