DICK MAKES HIS SECOND APPEARANCE
When Mr. Ackerman's car rolled up to the hotel later in the morning the
puzzle no longer lacked a solution for in the automobile beside the
steamboat magnate sat Dick Martin, the lad of the pocketbook adventure.
At first glance Steve scarcely recognized the boy, such a transformation
had taken place in his appearance. He wore a new suit of blue serge, a
smartly cut reefer, shiny shoes, a fresh cap, and immaculate linen. Soap
and water, as well as a proper style of haircut had added their part to
the miracle until now, with face glowing and eyes alight with pleasure,
Dick was as attractive a boy as one would care to see.
"I have brought Dick along with me, you see," the New Yorker explained,
when the three were in the car and speeding up Fifth Avenue. "He and I
have been shopping and now he is coming home to stay with me until we
hear from one of the schools to which I have written. If they can find a
place for him he will start at once. Then he is going to study hard and
see what sort of a man he can make of himself. I expect to be very proud
of him some day."
The lad flushed.
"I am going to do my best," said he, in a low tone.
"That is all any one can do, sonny," declared Mr. Ackerman kindly.
"You'll win out. Don't you worry! I'm not."
He smiled and Dick smiled back timidly.
"Have you been up to Mr. Ackerman's house yet and seen the boats?"
Stephen asked, to break the pause that fell between them.
"His collection, you mean? Sure! I'm--staying there."
"Living there, sonny," put in the financier.
"Then I suppose he's told you all about them," went on Stephen, a hint
of envy in his tone.
"I haven't yet," laughed their host, "for there hasn't been time. Dick
only left the hotel yesterday and we have had a great deal to do since.
We had to go to his lodgings and say good-by to the people there who
have been kind to him and tell them why he was not coming back. And then
there were errands and many other things to see to. So he has not been
at home much yet," concluded Mr. Ackerman, with a kindly emphasis on the
final sentence.
Dick beamed but it was evident that the magnitude of his good fortune
had left him too overwhelmed for words.
Perhaps neither of the boys minded that there was little conversation
during the drive for there was plenty to see and to Dick Martin, at
least, an automobile ride was such an uncommon experience that it
needed no embellishments. They rode up Morningside Drive and back again,
looking down on the river as they went, and exclaiming when some unusual
craft passed them. Evidently Mr. Ackerman was quite content to let
matters take their natural course; but he was not unmindful of his
guests and when at last he saw a shadow of fatigue circle Dick's eyes
and give place to the glow of excitement that had lighted them he said:
"Now suppose we go back to the house for a while. We have an hour or
more before Stephen has to rejoin his father and you two chaps can poke
about the suite. What do you say?"
Steve was all enthusiasm. He had been quietly hoping there would be a
chance for him to have another peep at the wonderful steamboats.
"I'd like nothing better!" was his instant reply. "I did not see half I
wanted to when I was there before, and we go home to-morrow, you know.
If I don't see your ships and things to-day I never shall."
"Oh, don't say that!" Mr. Ackerman said quickly. "You and Dick and I are
going to be great friends. We are not going to say good-by and never see
one another any more. Sometime you will be coming to New York again, I
hope. However, if he wants to have a second glimpse of our boats now
we'll let him, won't we, Dick?"
Again the boy smiled a timid smile into his benefactor's face.
[Illustration: "I wish you'd tell me about this queer little
old-fashioned boat." Page 181.]
It did not take long to reach the house and soon the three were in the
wonderful room with its panorama of ships moving past the windows and
its flotilla of still more ships decorating the walls.
"Now you boys go ahead and entertain yourselves as you please," Mr.
Ackerman said. "I am going to sit here and read the paper; but if there
is anything you want to ask me you are welcome to do so."
Stephen strolled over to the mantelpiece and stood before the model of
the quaint side-wheeler that had held his attention at the time of his
first visit; then he stole a furtive glance at the man in the big chair.
"Did you really mean, Mr. Ackerman," he faltered, "that we could ask you
questions?"
"Certainly."
"Then I wish you'd tell me about this queer little old-fashioned boat,
and how you happened to put it between this up-to-date ocean liner and
this battleship."
The elder man looked up.
"That boat that interests you is a model of Fulton's steamboat--or at
least as near a model as I could get," explained he. "I put it there to
show the progress we have made in shipbuilding since that day."
Steve laughed.
"I see the progress all right," replied he, "but I am afraid I do not
know much about Fulton and his side-wheeler."
Mr. Ackerman let the paper slip into his lap.
"I assumed every boy who went to school learned about Robert Fulton,"
answered he, half teasingly and yet with real surprise.
"I suppose I ought to have learned about him," retorted Stephen, with
ingratiating honesty, "and maybe I did once. But if I did I seem to have
forgotten about it. You see there are such a lot of those old chaps who
did things that I get them all mixed up."
Apparently the sincerity of the confession pleased the capitalist for he
laughed.
"I know!" returned he sympathetically. "Every year more and more things
roll up to remember, don't they? Had we lived long ago, before so many
battles and discoveries had taken place, and so many books been written,
life would have been much simpler. Now the learning of all the ages
comes piling down on our heads. But at least you can congratulate
yourself that you are not so badly off as the boys will be a hundred
years hence; they, poor things, will have to learn all about what _we_
have been doing, and if the world progresses as rapidly in history and
in science as it is doing now, I pity them. Not only will they have to
go back to Fulton but to him they will probably have to add a score of
other inventors."
Both boys joined in the steamboat man's hearty laugh.
"Well, who was Fulton, anyway, Mr. Ackerman?" Stephen persisted.
"If you want me to tell you that Robert Fulton was the first American to
make a successful steamboat I can give you that information in a
second," was the reply. "But if you wish to hear how he did it that is a
much longer story."
"I like stories," piped Dick from the corner of the couch where he was
sitting.
"So do I," echoed Steve.
"Then I see there is no help for me!" Mr. Ackerman answered, taking off
his spectacles and putting them into the case.
With an anticipatory smile Stephen seated himself on the great leather
divan beside the other boy.
"Before the steamboat came," began Mr. Ackerman, "you must remember that
paddle wheels had long been used, for both the Egyptians and the Romans
had built galleys with oars that moved by a windlass turned by the hands
of slaves or by oxen. Later there were smaller boats whose paddle wheels
were driven by horses. So you see paddle wheels were nothing new; the
world was just waiting for something that would turn them around. After
the Marquis of Worcester had made his steam fountain he suggested that
perhaps this power might be used to propel a boat but unfortunately he
died before any experiments with the idea could be made. Various
scientists, however, in Spain, France, England and Scotland caught up
the plan but after struggling unsuccessfully with it for a time
abandoned it as impractical. In 1802 Lord Dundas, a proprietor in one of
the English canals, made an encouraging start by using a tow-boat with
a paddle wheel at its stern. But alas, this contrivance kicked up such a
fuss in the narrow stream that it threatened to tear the banks along the
edge all to pieces and therefore it was given up and for ten years
afterward there was no more steamboating in England."
The boys on the couch chuckled.
"In the meantime in America thoughtful men were mulling over the problem
of steam navigation. Watt's engine had opened to the minds of inventors
endless possibilities; and the success of the early railroads made many
persons feel that a new era of science, whose wonders had only begun to
unfold, was at hand. In Connecticut there lived a watchmaker by the name
of John Fitch, who, although he knew little of the use of steam, knew
much about machinery. Through the aid of a company that furnished him
with the necessary money he built a steamboat which was tried out in
1787 and made three miles an hour. Of course it was not a boat like any
of ours for it was propelled by twelve oars, or paddles, operated by a
very primitive steam engine. Nevertheless, it was the forerunner of
later and better devices of a similar nature, and therefore Fitch is
often credited with being the inventor of the steamboat. Perhaps, had he
been able to go on with his schemes, he might have given the world
something really significant in this direction; but as it was he simply
pointed the way. His money gave out, the company would do nothing
further for him, and after building a second boat that could go eight
miles an hour instead of three he became discouraged and intemperate and
let his genius go to ruin, dying later in poverty--a sad end to a life
that might well have been a brilliant one. After Fitch came other
experimenters, among them Oliver Evans of Philadelphia who seems to have
been a man of no end of inventive vision."
"Wasn't he the one who tried sails on a railroad train?" inquired Steve,
noting with pleasure the familiar name.
"He was that very person," nodded Mr. Ackerman. "He evidently had plenty
of ideas; the only trouble was that they did not work very well. He had
already applied steam to mills and wagons, and now he wanted to see what
he could do with it aboard a boat. Either he was very impractical or
else hard luck pursued his undertakings. At any rate, he had a boat
built in Kentucky, an engine installed on it, and then he had the craft
floated to New Orleans from which point he planned to make a trip up the
Mississippi. But alas, before his boat was fully ready, there was a drop
in the river and the vessel was left high and dry on the shore."
"Jove!" exclaimed Dick involuntarily.
"Pretty tough, wasn't it?" remarked Mr. Ackerman.
"What did he do then?" demanded Stephen. "Did he resurrect the boat?"
"No, it did not seem to be any use; instead he had the engine and boiler
taken out and put into a saw mill where once again hard luck pursued
him, for the mill was burned not long after. That was the end of Oliver
Evans's steamboating."
Mr. Ackerman paused thoughtfully.
"Now while Fitch and those following him were working at the steamboat
idea here in America, Robert Fulton, also a native of this country, was
turning the notion over in his mind. Strangely enough, he had not
intended to be an inventor for he was in France, studying to be a
painter. During a visit to England he had already met several men who
were interested in the steam engine and through them had informed
himself pretty thoroughly about the uses and action of steam. In Paris
he made the acquaintance of a Mr. Barlow and the two decided to raise
funds and build a steamboat to run on the Rhone. This they did, but
unfortunately the boat sank before any degree of success had been
achieved. Then Fulton, not a whit discouraged, told the French
Government that if they would furnish the money he would build a similar
boat to navigate the Seine. The French, however, had no faith in the
plan and promptly refused to back it."
"I'll bet they wished afterward they had!" interrupted Dick.
"I presume they did," agreed Mr. Ackerman. "It is very easy to see one's
mistakes after a thing is all over. Anyway, Mr. Barlow came back to
America, where Fulton joined him, and immediately the latter went to
building a steamboat that should be practical. On his way home he had
stopped in England and purchased various parts for his engine and when
he got to New York he had these set up in an American boat. You must not
for a moment imagine that everything about this first steamboat of
Fulton's was original. On the contrary he combined what was best in the
experiments of previous inventors. He adopted the English type of
engine, the side paddle, everything that seemed to him workable. Barlow
and a rich New Yorker named Livingston backed the enterprise. Now some
time before the State of New York, half in jest and half in irony, had
granted to Livingston the sole right to navigate the New York waters by
means of ships driven by steam or fire engines. At the time the
privilege had caused much mirth for there were nothing but sailing ships
in existence, and there was no prospect of there ever being any other
kind of vessel. Hence the honor was a very empty one and nobody expected
a time would arrive when it would ever be of any value to its owner. But
Livingston was a shrewder and more far-seeing man than were the old
legislators at Albany, and to Fulton he was an indispensable ally."
The boy listened breathlessly.
"How these three men managed to keep their secret so well is a mystery;
but apparently they did, and when Fulton suddenly appeared on the
Hudson with a steamboat named the _Clermont_ for Mr. Livingston's
country seat on the Palisades, the public was amazed. A model of the
boat with a miniature engine had previously been tried out so the three
promoters had little doubt that their project would work, and it did. As
the new craft moved along without any sails to propel it the sensation
it made was tremendous. People were divided as to whether to flee from
it in terror or linger and marvel at it. It is a pity that the
newspapers of the period did not take the advent of this remarkable
invention more seriously for it would have been interesting to know more
of the impression it created. As it was little is recorded about it.
Probably the very silence of the press is significant of the fact that
there was scant faith in the invention, and that it was considered too
visionary a scheme to dignify with any notice. However that may be, the
newspapers passed this wonderful event by with almost no comment.
History, however, is more generous and several amusing stories have come
down to us of the fright the _Clermont_ caused as she crept along the
river at dusk with a shower of vermilion sparks rising from her funnel.
One man who came around a bend of the stream in his boat and encountered
the strange apparition for the first time told his wife afterward that
he had met the devil traveling the river in a sawmill."
There was a shout of laughter from the boys.
"The trial trip, to which many distinguished guests were invited, took
place a few days later, and after improving some of the defects that
cropped up the steamboat was advertised to run regularly between New
York and Albany. Now if you think this announcement was hailed with joy
you are much mistaken," continued Mr. Ackerman, smiling to himself at
some memory that evidently amused him. "On the contrary the owners of
the sailing ships which up to this time had had the monopoly of traffic
were furious with rage. So vehemently did they maintain that the river
belonged to them that at last the matter went to the courts and Daniel
Webster was retained as Fulton's counsel. The case attracted wide
attention throughout the country, and when it was decided in Fulton's
favor there was great excitement. Every sort of force was brought to
bear to thwart the new steamboat company. Angry opponents tried to blow
up the boat as it lay at the dock; attempts were made to burn it. At
length affairs became so serious that a clause was appended to the
court's decree which made it a public crime punishable by fine or
imprisonment to attempt to injure the _Clermont_."
Mr. Ackerman paused to light a fresh cigar.
"From the moment the law took this stand the success of the undertaking
became assured and it is interesting to see how quickly the very men who
jeered loudest at the enterprise now came fawning and begging to have a
part in it. Other steamboats were added to the line and soon rival
firms began to construct steamboats of their own and try to break up
Fulton's monopoly of the waters of the State. For years costly lawsuits
raged, and in defiance of the right the New York legislature had granted
to Livingston, the fiercest competition took place. Sometime I should
like to tell you more of this phase of the story for it is a very
exciting and interesting yarn. Yet in spite of all the strife and hatred
that pursued him Fulton's river-boats and ferries continued to run."
"The State stuck to its bargain, then," murmured Steve, "and left
Livingston the rights awarded him?"
"No," replied Mr. Ackerman. "For a time they clung to their agreement;
but at last the courts withdrew the right as illegal, and poor
Livingston, who had sunk the greater part of his fortune in the
steamboat business, lived to see the fruit of his toil wrested from him.
In point of fact, I believe the decision of the courts to have been a
just one for no one person or group of persons should control the
waterways of the country. You can see the wisdom of this yourself.
Nevertheless, the decree hit Livingston pretty hard. It was the first
step in the destruction of a monopoly," added Mr. Ackerman whimsically.
"Since then such decrees have become common happenings in America,
monopolies being considered a menace to national prosperity. Certainly
in this case it was well that the Supreme Court of the United States
decided that all waters of the country should be free to navigators, no
matter in what kind of vessel they chose to sail."
"It was tough on Fulton and his friends, though, wasn't it?" observed
Dick, who was plainly unconvinced as many another had been of the
justice of the arguments.
"Yes," agreed Mr. Ackerman, smiling into his troubled eyes, "I grant you
it was tough on them."