“On time!” exclaimed Waddie, as I came out of the wheel-house, after
the boat was secured at the wharf.
“Yes, and more too,” I replied. “We are ahead of the Lightning Express
this time.”
“I want to be reasonable, but I never felt so much like crowing as I
do to-day. By the great horn spoon, I think we have all been asleep
on this side of the lake since the _Ucayga_ commenced running,” added
Waddie, with enthusiasm.
Van Wolter was already moving the freight and baggage on shore; and his
zeal had not suffered a particle of diminution. He worked well, and did
not permit a single instant to be wasted. We had only two trucks, but
all the luggage and merchandise they could contain had been piled upon
them; and they held nearly all we had to be landed. I wanted two more
of these machines, for they could be loaded by the shore men before
the arrival of the boat. Then we need stay only long enough to wheel
the two trucks on board ashore and the two on the wharf to the deck. I
expected to reduce the delay to three or five minutes.
I stood on the hurricane-deck, by the wheel-house, where I could
overlook the operations of the mate and the deck-hands, and be in
readiness to start the boat the instant the last piece of freight was
on board. I was delighted with the zeal of the mate, and, I may add,
with his politeness and discretion. He did not break things, and he did
not tip over the passengers as they came on board. He did not yell like
a wild Indian, and say impudent things to gentlemen who incautiously
placed themselves in his way. I liked the man, notwithstanding his
contempt for me as a boy, manifested at our first meeting. Perhaps I
should not blame him for that; but when I had taken the boat through
the Horse-Shoe Channel, he had done me full justice, and I forgave him.
He was my friend, and I was very glad to have done a good thing for him
in causing his wages to be raised.
The other steamer would be ready the following spring, and I could not
help thinking that Van Wolter would make a first-rate captain for her.
At any rate, if he continued to do as well by me as he had thus far, I
was determined to speak a good word for him.
“Mr. President, I shall be obliged to ask the company for two more
trucks for this landing,” I continued, turning to Waddie.
“You shall have a hundred if you want them,” replied the little magnate.
“We want only two; and perhaps two more for Ucayga, so that we can get
rid of these long delays.”
“You shall have everything you want, Wolf. I don’t see why we can’t
beat the Lightning Express every day.”
“We can never do it when the train is on time; and I tell you Major
Toppleton is too smart to let things drag on the other side as they do
just now.”
“I don’t believe they can go through on time.”
“Yes, they can. The engineer who is running the dummy now will see that
the train is never behind time when they give him the place. I never
missed a connection while I was on the road.”
“Lewis Holgate is not you.”
“But the major will not let him ruin the enterprise much longer.”
“Pooh! what can the major do as long as Tom Toppleton chooses to keep
Lewis on the engine?”
“Well, Tommy won’t choose to keep him there.”
“I think he will.”
“But Major Toppleton has another string to his bow. Our cake will be
dough in a week or so at the most--just as soon as the major fully
understands the matter; and I think it won’t take him more than a week
to see through the millstone.”
“You mean to say that he will not let his boats come to Centreport.”
“Certainly not. Then you can’t get a single through passenger. That
is what we are coming to in a short time, unless we find some way to
counteract the major’s plan.”
“Well, can’t we find some way?” asked Waddie anxiously.
“Perhaps we can. I haven’t had time to think of the matter much,” I
replied, as Van Wolter ordered the men to cast off the fasts and haul
in the plank.
I went into the wheel-house, rang the bell, and the _Ucayga_ moved on.
I gave the helm to the mate as soon as he came up. Waddie went below to
talk with his father, to tell him, I suppose, that our victory was to
be but a transient one.
“How’s the time, Captain Penniman?” asked the mate.
“Five minutes of five,” I replied, consulting my watch, and thinking of
Grace Toppleton, as I always did when I saw it, for she had presented
it to me in behalf of the Toppletonians.
And I was at variance with them now! No, not with many of them; only
with Tommy and a few of his toadies. But I did not like to wear
the watch, which had been the gift of those on the other side, for
which Major Toppleton had probably paid the lion’s share, after the
disagreeable events which had occurred. The thought came to me that
I ought to return it to the donors; but this was rather a violent
alternative for saving my pride.
“We were not more than ten minutes at the Ruoara landing, then,” added
the mate.
“No; you have done admirably, Mr. Van Wolter, and I thank you for your
zeal.”
“Oh, that’s all right! I always mean to do my duty while I have any
sort of fair play,” answered the gratified man.
“We must do our duty whether we have fair play or not,” I added.
“That’s my motto.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right. The safest, and indeed the only way for
us, is always to do our duty.”
“I rather think you are right, after all. We are waxing the Lightning
Express over there, this afternoon. That short cut through the
Horse-Shoe Channel did the business for us.”
“That’s so; and I’ve been thinking of it for a long time. I suppose if
I had mentioned it before I did it, I should have been laughed at.”
“That’s a fact. You have done a big thing to-day, young man; I beg your
pardon--Captain Penniman.”
“Oh, we don’t stand on any ceremony! We shall be good friends; and
while we stick together, we can accomplish any reasonable thing.”
“Didn’t I hear you and the colonel saying something about another boat
like this one?”
“Yes; the colonel intends to build another--to be called the
_Hitaca_--at once.”
“I suppose it is too soon to say anything yet; but I want the command
of that boat when she is built,” continued Van Wolter anxiously.
“I was thinking of that very thing myself; and, if you are always as
faithful as you have been to-day, I think you will deserve it. I shall
mention the matter to the colonel and Waddie as soon as I get a chance.”
“Thank you; thank you, captain. That’s very handsome of you; and you
shall never have any cause to complain of me,” he replied warmly.
“Of course, I can’t promise anything; but I will do what I can, if
everything is right,” I answered.
We discussed the former management of the boat, and I explained to him
my plans for the future. We were in perfect accord, and I was glad that
I had so soon removed all grounds for jealousy, and all tendencies to
pull in the opposite direction, on the part of my subordinate. We were
approaching Centreport. The train on the railroad, now ten minutes
behind time, was coming into Middleport, on the other side of the lake.
At twenty-five minutes past five we were fast to the wharf. The boat
going up the lake had not yet left the pier. To my surprise, I found we
had quite a number of up-lake passengers, who had taken the word of our
runners that we should be in time for the boat at Centreport. We had
kept the promise, but it would not always be safe to make it.
We arrived in season to enable Colonel Wimpleton to send for his
satchel, and when the steamer for Hitaca touched the wharf he went on
board. He was determined not to lose a day or an hour in laying down
the keel of the new steamer, and he was going up the lake to make
his contracts for this purpose. The boat started on her trip, and my
work for the day was finished. Everybody on board was in remarkably
good spirits. For the first time, really, the steamer had beaten the
Lightning Express; and we intended to “keep doing it” as long as the
achievement was possible. I gave the boat into the keeping of Van
Wolter, and went on shore. My father could not leave until he had put
the engine in order. As everybody’s wages had been raised, there was no
danger of a conspiracy against the new order of things.
Not until the excitement of the afternoon’s stirring work had subsided
did it occur to me that I was engaged to go up the lake on Monday with
a party in the _Belle_. Of course it would be impossible for me to keep
my engagement to the letter, though I intended to do so in spirit.
The long-desired opportunity of doing something for Tom Walton now
presented itself. My friend was a thorough and competent boatman, fully
my equal, if not my superior. His mother was poor and in ill-health,
so that she depended mainly upon him for her support. He was, in my
estimation, a splendid fellow; and his devotion to his mother, and his
constant self-sacrifice for her sake, won my regard and admiration.
I had long desired to give him a situation worthy his abilities and
character.
Embarking in the _Belle_, I crossed the lake. After mooring the boat,
I went directly to the house of Tom’s mother, and was fortunate enough
to find my friend at home. He lived in one of the smallest and meanest
dwellings in Middleport. I was determined to do a good thing for
him, and I thought, after the boat season was finished, I ought to
have influence enough, as the commander of the _Ucayga_, to procure
him a first-rate situation for the winter. He came out of the house,
and before I had time to open my business with him, the Toppleton
Battalion, which was out for drill, came round the corner, and we
suspended our conversation to see the parade.
Major Tommy Toppleton was at the head of the column. He had nearly
recovered from his broken leg; but he was not able to walk much yet,
and was mounted on a medium-sized pony. The moment he saw me, he halted
his battalion, and urged his steed almost upon me.
“You villain, Wolf Penniman!” said he, still urging on his pony, as
though he intended to crush me under the iron hoofs of the little
charger.
“Sha’n’t I hold your horse for you?” interposed Tom Walton, with his
inimitable good-nature, as he seized the bridle-rein of the animal.
“Let him alone!” roared Major Tommy, striking my friend a sharp blow
on the back with the flat of his sword.
I was indignant, and inclined to pull the bantam major from his horse;
but I remembered his broken leg, or perhaps I should have done so.