Friendship Stories for Children: The Entrepreneur's Nuggets of Gold

"Think we'll ever find any gold here?" Bradley asked his friend Burton, as he waded through the knee deep water in the swiftly flowing creek. "Man, this is really cold!"

"Yes it is and it’s too cold for me! I am freezing to death!" replied Burton. "Maybe fool's gold? By the way, do you know the difference?"

For the past hour, the two boys had been panning for gold using old, aluminum pie plates. Neither of them had found anything that looked like a gold nugget.

"Not really. Do you?" Bradley continued. "My mom says that there are nuggets in everything I write though."

"Nuggets in what you write, are you totally nuts? You have to be kidding me. What kind of nuggets?" Burton asked, out of curiosity. "Surely they are not the same kind of gold nuggets that we are panning for in this creek?"

"My mom said that they are nuggets of truth. She thinks that they are way more valuable than gold." Bradley was wondering if he should say anything more to Burton about this, because he knew that Burton had problems writing because he could barely spell. Bradley had tried to help him with his spelling and the two had become close friends, over the past few months. "Spell gold."

"G-o-l-d. And you believe that?" asked Burton. "My feet are really wet. I have to get out of this cold water; let's go, now!"

"Good. My runners are soaked too and so are my socks," said Bradley. "My mom says that when she reads what I write she really gets to know me, understands me better and learns to love me more all the time. She thinks that I am just like her. Well, maybe not exactly like her because I am a guy."

"Must be nice," replied Burton sadly. "My mom says that we are as poor as church mice since my dad died and that we have to learn to live on pauper's rations. I really need to find some gold nuggets, but it won’t be today."

"Wring your socks out, so you don't catch pneumonia," ordered Bradley. "Hey, what is that over there in the grass?"

"Some dumb kid's broken bike, I think," said Burton. "That's what it is all right!"

"Neat! Maybe we could take it home and fix it?" suggested Bradley, scrambling through the swampy grass towards it.

"I'd rather buy a new one," replied Burton. Together, they pulled the bike out of the grass and examined it more closely. "It looks like someone really did a number on this one."

"How much money do you have?" asked Bradley, looking Burton straight in the eye.

"Four dollars and eighty-six cents and that is certainly not enough to buy a brand new bike. Maybe I could pick up a used one somewhere, if I had five dollars?" said Burton.

"Let's see. I have one dollar and fifty-seven cents from my new paper route! That brings us to six dollars and forty-three cents. Hey, I have an idea! Let's take this bike home, pull it apart and then sell all of the parts! We could both make some extra money if we do that." Bradley smiled suddenly. "Think that we can carry it all the way home?"

"We will have to. Wonder what happened to the other tire?" Burton was not too excited about having to lug a broken bike for a mile. "We'll take turns carrying it."

"Agreed," said Bradley. "I wonder who owned it. Hey, stick your pan in your backpack, so you don't have to carry that too."

"Where can we sell bike parts, I wonder. Who would buy them?" asked Burton. He was just a little bit skeptical, but then he usually was.

"Probably some kid, just like us. Maybe we could sell the parts to a bike shop, or a second hand store. I know! Let's advertise online and see if we get a nibble," replied Bradley. He was not about to let Burton change his mind. "Let's start a used bike parts business, maybe trade, or sell them?"

"Yes, but who would buy them from us? Maybe nobody?" said Burton, with a frown.

"This bike actually looks pretty new to me. It has a good seat. The pedals are still on it. That back tire still looks good, too. The frame is not bent and neither are the handlebars. That chain looks all right. The spokes on that wheel are not broken. This is not even rusty," said Bradley, as he took a closer look at it. "It is a bit muddy, but we can clean it up. It's not even that old. It might be worth fixing up. It may be worth a few dollars at a garage sale?"

"Where's the kid that owned it? Maybe he fell into the creek. We should have taken a better look around," said Burton. "See those seagulls circling over by the creek? Let's get out of here!"

"Aw, come on. That water is not very deep. We would have spotted him. Somebody probably pitched the bike over that embankment. Maybe a bunch of big kids stole it. Or it could have been some guy that was too chicken to ride it?" Bradley did not scare too easily. "Let's see, this is blue and this crossbar is for a boy, so it is a boy's bike. He can't be too old. Maybe he outgrew it?"

"Know any guys missing bikes?" asked Burton, beginning to feel a bit better. "My feet are so wet!"

"My mom always says that when we are in doubt, we should always do what is right.

So, let's call the bike shop. No, better still let's report it to the police. If they cannot find the owner, then it is finder's keepers, loser's weepers. Agreed?" asked Bradley. "Stop complaining, Burton. We didn't find any gold, but we might have found something better than gold. You got any tools?"

"No, I think my mom sold them," replied Burton. "She sells everything."

"Too bad, but I know where we can borrow some tools to take this bike apart if we get to keep it. What we are going to do is to tell the policeman in charge at the police station the truth," suggested Bradley. "We found the bike by the creek."

"Think that anyone will believe us?" asked Burton. "They might think that we stole it."

"Sure they'll believe us," said Bradley. "We have wet feet and our gold pans with us. That should be proof enough. If they don't find out who it belongs to, we are going to start a bike parts business. We can call it Bike Man. You can be my, partner. That sounds like a good name. I'd better ask my mom for permission, too."

"I don't know," said Burton. "Thanks for helping me though. I do appreciate that, even if my feet are wet. B-i-k-e M-a-n. Right?"

"Right," replied Bradley. "You are learning!"

"You really are my best friend!" said Burton. "Thanks."