JOE BUYS A TICKET The office of the steamer was on the wharf from which it was to start.

Already a considerable amount of freight was lying on the wharf ready to be loaded.

Joe made his way to the office.
"Well, boy, what's your business ?" inquired a stout man with a red face, who seemed to be in charge.
"Is this the office of the California steamer, sir ?" "Yes." "What is the lowest price for passage ?" "A hundred dollars for the steerage." When Joe heard this his heart sank within him.

It seemed to be the death-blow to his hopes.

He had but fifty dollars, or thereabouts, and there was no chance whatever of getting the extra fifty.
"Couldn't I pay you fifty dollars now and the rest as soon as I can earn it in California ?" he pleaded.
"We don't do business in that way." "I'd be sure to pay it, sir, if I lived," said Joe.