TOM ORDERS A NEW BOAT.
For the first time in his life, Bob had deceived his mother, and,
as may be imagined, he did not feel very happy over it. His first
thought was to get as far away from her as possible; and with this
determination he bent his steps toward the wharf, where he sat down to
think the matter over. He had never been taught to measure every act
of his life by a moral standard, but, heretofore, when any thing had
been proposed to him, he had always asked himself the question: Is it
honorable and manly, or is it mean and cowardly? This test was applied
to the matter in hand, and Bob was, of course, compelled to decide
that he had been guilty of an act with which he would not like to have
every one in the world acquainted. He knew that he ought to pay the
five dollars to Mr. Graves, or, what would have been still better, take
it back to his mother, make a clean breast of the whole matter, and be
governed by her advice. Once he even got up from the coil of rope on
which he was sitting, and started off as if he had resolved to follow
this course of conduct; but he had made scarcely half a dozen steps
before some of Tom's arguments flashed through his mind. He stopped,
hesitated, and finally returned to his seat.
We believe that all boys are more or less inclined to build
air-castles. They love to go off alone where there will be no one
to disturb them, and spend hour after hour picturing to themselves
innumerable pleasant things that will be sure to happen if some of
their pet schemes can only be carried out. Some boys keep these
dreamings to themselves, while others, like Tom Newcombe, can not rest
easy until they have communicated them to some of their particular
friends; and when there is one such boy in a neighborhood he sometimes
does a great deal of mischief. Tom, for instance, had completely
upset the fisher-boy. We know what good resolutions Bob made while he
was sailing home from his fishing-grounds, on the previous day, and,
no doubt, he would have held to them, if he could have avoided that
unfortunate interview with Tom Newcombe. But he had listened to his
arguments, been carried away by his eloquence, doubted at first, then
believed, and finally ended by becoming as certain of success as was
Tom himself. This led him to take two steps in the wrong direction. He
had gone in debt for a boat, when he knew all the time that his mother
would not approve of it, and then, by leading her to believe that he
wanted to pay part of the money down, he had got the five dollars to
invest in the lottery. It was no wonder his conscience troubled him. It
kept him in a very unpleasant frame of mind, and the arguments he made
use of to pacify it ought to have made him ashamed of himself.
"I didn't tell mother that I was honestly and truly going to pay this
money to Mr. Graves," said the fisher-boy to himself. "I only said
that _if_ I paid some on the boat now, I wouldn't have so much to pay
by and by. Wasn't that the truth? Of course it was. I never told a
lie in my life, and I never will. I'm in a bad fix," he added, rising
to his feet, and walking up and down the wharf, "and this is the only
way I can see to get out of it. I must save fifty-six dollars before
I can go to sea--twenty-six to pay for my boat, and thirty to support
the family while I am gone; and, at the rate I have been making money
for the last year, I never will be able to lay by half that sum. I'll
have to be a fisherman as long as I live, if I can't find other ways to
make something. Now, here's a chance for me to get rich; and wouldn't
I be foolish to throw it away? If it fails--but Tom says it can't, and
I believe it--I shall be only five dollars out of pocket, and not much
worse off than I am now. If it succeeds, and I get half of the five
thousand dollars, what can I not do with it? I'll pay for my boat at
once; then I'll buy mother a nice house; I'll get some good clothes for
myself; I'll send my brothers to school--perhaps the military academy
would be the best place for them--then I'll be off to sea. I'll do it;
that's settled. I'll find Tom and give him this money before I am five
minutes older."
Without stopping to reconsider the matter, the fisher-boy started on a
keen run down the wharf, and presently found himself at the door of Mr.
Newcombe's office. Tom was seated in his father's arm-chair, his feet
upon the desk, a newspaper in his hand, and a pen behind his ear. He
happened to be looking out the door as Bob came up, and throwing down
his paper, he hurried out to meet him.
"Let's hear what you've got to say!" said he, in a whisper. "Yes or
no!"
"Yes," replied the fisher-boy. "Here's the money."
"Hurrah for you," exclaimed Tom, as he took the bills. "Our fortune's
made, sure enough;" and catching Bob by the arm, he danced him about
the wharf as if he had suddenly lost his wits.
"I knew you wouldn't let this splendid chance slip through your
fingers!" he continued, leading the fisher-boy off on one side, so that
they might converse without fear of being overheard. "When the money
comes I'll divide with you honestly. You are not afraid to trust me?"
"O no!" was the reply. "But are you _sure_ those men will send you that
prize?" (The fisher-boy knew what Tom's answer would be. All he wanted
was encouragement.)
"Certainty I am!" said Tom, emphatically. "If I didn't know it, do
you suppose I would risk my money in it? Didn't they make the offer
themselves, and don't they say that they have agents in every civilized
country on the globe? Do you suppose that men known all over the world
as they are would dare cheat any body? You need not be afraid. They
are business men. I know that, because this letter-paper is printed,
just like father's; and they will not injure their reputation by making
false promises. They have too much at stake. I knew you would give me a
favorable answer, and so I wrote to them."
As Tom spoke he pulled a letter out of his pocket and handed it to the
fisher-boy.
It conveyed to E. H. Harris and Company the information that Tom was
perfectly willing to act as their agent, and that if they would keep
their promise, and send him the five thousand dollars, he would show
it to every man, woman, and child in Newport. He told them that they
would find him to be the most faithful and obliging man in their
employ. (Tom said _man_, because he was afraid the gentlemen might
withdraw their offer, if they should learn that he was only a boy
fifteen years of age.) He further informed them, that he was clerk
in the largest commission house in the village, and that he was well
enough acquainted with business to know that an agent could not hope
to secure customers, unless he was very polite and accommodating;
consequently, they might rest assured that he would always treat their
patrons with the greatest kindness. All this, and a great deal more,
did Tom say to the proprietors of the lottery; but his letter, besides
being pretty well mixed up, was so badly written and spelled that it is
doubtful if the men to whom it was addressed ever got at the sense of
it.
When the fisher-boy had finished reading the letter he handed it back
to Tom, who placed it in an envelope along with the ten dollars--five
of his own money, and the five Bob had brought him--and carefully
sealed it, saying as he did so, "You see that I put the money in the
letter, don't you? Now, come with me to the post-office."
The fisher-boy would have been willing to entrust the business entirely
in Tom's hands; but, to satisfy him, he saw the letter dropped into
the box, and then took leave of his companion, who hurried back to the
office. He found very little to be done there, and after loitering
about for half an hour, put on his cap and went out again.
He was highly elated at the success of his plans thus far, and he found
it exceedingly difficult to control himself. Sometimes he was tempted
to hunt up some of his acquaintances and reveal to them his secret;
but he could not forget that they had turned him out of the society of
Night-hawks, without giving him an opportunity to say a word in his
defense, and refused him admittance into their new organization. In
his estimation, these were offenses that ought not to be forgiven. "I
told them I would make them sorry for that," said he to himself, "and
I wasn't joking. The Storm King will be just the thing for fishing
parties and moonlight excursions, but not one of those fellows shall
ever put a foot on her deck, until they are willing to apologize for
what they have done. I heard one of them say that they would like to
visit Block Island and rob some of the melon patches over there, if
they only had a boat. Now, perhaps, when they see the Storm King, they
will want her! They sha'n't have her; they may look somewhere else for
a boat! Won't they be surprised when they learn that I am the captain
and owner of the finest little craft in the village? How they will all
envy me! That's the way I shall get even with them."
Tom laughed outright as these thoughts passed through his mind, and
thrusting his hands into his pockets, he started off with a "hop,
skip, and a jump," and finally turned down the street that led to
Mr. Graves's boat-yard. He found the proprietor in his office, and,
hardly waiting to return his polite greeting, Tom seated himself in the
nearest chair, and began business at once.
"Mr. Graves," said he, "you built the Swallow, I believe! What did she
cost?"
"Two hundred and fifty dollars!" was the answer.
"Then I suppose the boat I want will cost at least a hundred dollars
more?" said Tom.
"That, of course, depends upon circumstances," replied Mr. Graves,
who was not at all surprised at these questions, for this was not the
first time Tom had talked with him on this same subject. "If you want
a vessel finished off in first-class style, with a nice little cabin,
two state-rooms finely furnished, a galley forward, with stove and
every thing complete, and bunks for three or four hands--in short, a
magnificent little yacht--"
"That's just it!" exclaimed Tom, excited by his description. "That's
what I want!"
"I know it," said Mr. Graves, "for you and I have talked this matter
over before. I suppose your father has at last given you permission to
build a boat of this kind?"
"Now, never mind my father," said Tom, impatiently. "Isn't it enough
for you to know that your money will be ready the moment the boat is
finished? What will a craft like that cost?"
Mr. Graves looked intently at the floor for a moment, stroked his
whiskers, and replied: "Four hundred dollars!"
"Whew!" exclaimed Tom. "That's rather steep, I should say. However,
I must have a vessel, and I don't care what she costs. Now listen to
me! In the first place, I want this boat called the Storm King. She
must be sloop-rigged, carrying as much canvas as can safely be put on
her. Her hull must be painted black on the outside, and the cabin must
be finished off with black walnut, and supplied with the finest kind
of furniture; and, last of all, she must be warranted to beat every
vessel of her size about the village."
"Exactly!" exclaimed Mr. Graves, who, believing that he had got a
paying customer this time, listened attentively to all Tom had to say.
"And remember, also," continued Tom, "that I want her finished as soon
as possible--the sooner the better. As I told you before, your money
will be ready the moment I accept the vessel. If she doesn't suit me, I
shall not take her."
"Of course not!" said the boat-builder. "But what are you going to do
with her, Tom?"
"I'm going to be a trader. I expect soon to make my fortune."
"Certainly you will! What's to prevent it, I'd like to know? A boat of
that description would make any man independently rich. I have a strong
force," added Mr. Graves, as Tom arose to go, "and I'll promise to have
her finished alow and aloft in fine style, by three weeks from to-day.
Will that suit you?"
Tom replied that it would. He then took leave of the boat-builder,
who, true to his promise, called in one of his workmen, and gave him
some instructions in regard to building the sloop, which he intended
should be the finest little vessel that had ever been launched at his
yard. He had not the slightest suspicion that every thing was not just
as it should be, for Tom had more than once assured him that some day
he would gain his father's consent to a certain little plan, and that
then he wanted a boat that would throw all the other yachts about the
village completely into the shade. The boat-builder never imagined that
Tom would dare enter into such an agreement without the permission of
Mr. Newcombe, for what could a boy of his age do to earn four hundred
dollars in three weeks? But then Mr. Graves knew nothing about the
lottery.
Meanwhile the fisher-boy was loitering about the wharf, scarcely
knowing what to do with himself. If the loss of the Go Ahead had
occurred two days before, Bob would not have been long in deciding how
he ought to pass the time away, for he would have employed himself
in doing odd jobs about the village, and thus earned a few dimes to
increase his little fortune. But now, he had no idea of doing any thing
of the sort; for when Mr. Henry asked him if he did not want to earn
a quarter of a dollar, by carrying in a cord of wood, that was piled
on the wharf at the back of the store, Bob replied that he did not,
that he was not looking for work. It is true he regretted his decision
a moment afterward, but then it was too late, for Mr. Henry had hired
some one else.
"Never mind," said the fisher-boy to himself. "I haven't lost much.
Twenty-five cents for two hours' hard work is small pay. I've seen the
day that I would have been glad to take all such jobs, but I'm better
off in the world now; at least I soon will be."
All that forenoon, Bob walked up and down the wharf, watching the men
at work about him, wishing that five o'clock would come, so that he
might take possession of his new boat, and all the while wondering why
it was that he was so miserable, while every one around him seemed
to be so supremely happy. Again and again did he try to silence his
conscience by saying to himself that his mother would never know any
thing about the deception of which he had been guilty. Tom's plan would
certainly succeed, and when he had his twenty-five hundred dollars
in his pocket, he would pay for his boat, and then he would never go
in debt or deceive his mother again. But these promises of better
behavior in future did not quiet his feelings, for, in spite of all he
could do to prevent it, the knowledge of the fact that he had abused
the confidence his mother had reposed in him, would force itself upon
his mind, and when twelve o'clock came the fisher-boy had become so
thoroughly disgusted with himself that he did not want to go home to
his dinner. He felt like an outlaw; and he could almost bring himself
to believe that, if he should make his appearance at the door of his
home, he would be refused admittance. But, knowing that if he remained
away all day it would occasion surprise, and might arouse suspicion,
the fisher-boy endeavored to dismiss all his unpleasant thoughts,
tried hard to assume a cheerful look, and rather reluctantly started
for home. To his surprise, he found that the cloud had vanished from
his mother's face, and that she appeared to be as happy and contented
as ever. She made no allusions to any thing that had transpired that
morning, and Bob began to gain courage.