The same day, by a lucky coincidence, Grant received the following letter from Tom Cooper:
I have been meaning to write you for some time, but waited till I could tell whether I was likely to succeed or not. For the first month I was here I only got out enough gold-dust to pay my expenses, and envied father and you, who have a sure thing. The fact is, nothing is more uncertain than mining. You may strike it rich, or may fail entirely. Till last week it looked as if it would be the last in my case. But all at once I struck a pocket, and have thus far got two hundred and seventy-five dollars out of it, with more in prospect. That will make up for lost time. I tell you, Grant, it is a very exciting life. You are likely any day to make a strike. Further down the creek there is a long, lank Vermonter, who in a single week realized a thousand dollars from his claim. He took it pretty coolly, but was pleased all the same. “If this sort of thing continues a little longer,” he told me, “I’ll become a bloated bondholder, and go home and marry Sal Stebbins. She’s waitin’ for me, but the old man, her father, told her she’d have to wait till I could show him two thousand dollars, all my own. Well I don’t think I’ll have to wait long before that time comes,” and I guess he’s right.
But I haven’t said what I set out to say. That is I wish you would pull up stakes and come out here. I feel awful lonely, and would like your company. There’s a claim about a hundred feet from mine that I have bought for twenty-five dollars, and I will give it to you. The man that’s been workin’ it is a lazy, shiftless creeter, and although he’s got discouraged, I think it’s his fault that it hasn’t paid better. Half the time he’s been sittin’ down by his claim, readin’ a novel. If a man wants to succeed here, he’s got to have a good share of “get there” about him. I think you’ll fill the bill. Now, just pack up your things, and come right out. Go and see father and mother, but don’t show ’em this letter. I don’t want them to know how I am getting along. I mean some day to surprise ’em. Just tell them that I’m gettin’ fair pay, and hope to do better.
There’s a stage that leaves Sacramento Hotel for “these diggin’s.” You won’t have any trouble in findin’ it. Hopin’ soon to see you, I am,