PREPARING FOR THE START
On the following morning Darry Crane came in, on the Limited Express
direct from Chicago. He sent a telegram ahead, to Frank, who went up to
the Grand Central depot to meet his chum.
“Had a fine trip,” said Darry, “but, honest, I couldn’t get here fast
enough, I’ve been that anxious to see you. Heard from Beans yet? I’ll
wager he comes down with his grip loaded with beans, on account of the
long trip, you know. What, didn’t bring any beans? Must be a mistake
about that.”
“I guess he was afraid you’d forget the pork,” answered Frank, with a
laugh. “But how have you been since you left school?”
“First-class. Went West, you know, with my father and nearly rode a
pony to death on the Lone Star ranch. Oh, it was glorious to get over
the ground. Beats a stuffy old city all to bits. Hold on, I’ve got to
look after my trunk. Wouldn’t want to lose that, for it’s got the
whole outfit for the trip in it.”
“Our man will have the trunk brought to our house,” answered Frank.
“You come with me, and I’ll take you down to Mark’s, where you’ll find
Beans. By the way, heard anything of Glummy?”
“Did I? Well, I just guess, Frank. What do you think? He actually paid
me a visit--not very long, of course, but still he came to see me. Said
he was passing through Chicago on a trip to St. Louis, and felt that he
had to hunt up an old chum. I almost fainted when he said it. But he
acted quite decent, I must admit, not a bit airish or sour either.”
“Did he say anything about this trip to South America?”
“Not much, excepting that he would like to go if it went through. I
didn’t say much either, for I was thinking you and Mark wouldn’t like
to have him along. You don’t, do you?”
“Not much, although I guess we can stand it if he lets us alone. We
needn’t have much to do with him.”
Taking Darry’s valise from him, Frank led the way to the street and
hailed a passing auto-cab, and both were speedily taken to the home on
Madison Avenue. A few minutes later they hurried across the way and
joined Mark and Sam.
In anticipation of the good times ahead, all four of the lads were in a
happy frame of mind, and the remainder of the day was spent by the New
Yorkers in showing the visitors around Central Park and other points
of interest. In the afternoon the four went downtown and crossed the
Brooklyn Bridge. Then they came back to the Battery and took the little
craft which plies hourly between that point and Bedloe’s Island, where
is located the Statue of Liberty, standing as a gigantic sentinel to
New York Bay.
“How big it looks when one is close to it,” remarked Sam, when they
disembarked close to the base of the statue. “I thought climbing to the
top would be easy, but I fancy it’s going to be as tedious as climbing
to the top of Bunker Hill monument.”
And so it proved, as they went up the dark and narrow circular steps
leading to the crown of the statue. They wished to go up into the
torch, but the way was blocked owing to repairs.
Suddenly Mark, on looking around him, uttered an exclamation of
surprise. “Glummy Hockley! How did you get here?”
His words caused the others to forget their sight seeing for the
moment, and they faced about, to find themselves confronted by the
freckled-faced youth, who had been gazing in the opposite direction.
“I’ll thank you not to call me ‘Glummy,’” said Hockley, coolly,
although he too was taken by surprise. Then he turned to Darry. “How do
you do, Darry? When did you arrive?”
Mark bit his lip and looked at Frank, who gave him a knowing look in
return. Clearly it had been an ill beginning to the conversation.
Somehow Mark felt as if he had not done just right.
“Excuse me, Glum--I mean Hockley, I’ll try to remember your proper name
after this,” he stammered.
“I don’t mind those things at school, but you must remember we are
not at school now,” went on Hockley, with something of an air of
importance. Then he smiled faintly at Sam. “How are you, Beans?”
“Excuse me, but we are not at school now, and my name’s not ‘Beans,’”
was the dry response.
There was a second of silence, and then Darry burst into a roar of
laughter, and Frank and Mark were compelled to follow, the whole thing
seemed so comical. Hockley grew red, but when Sam joined in the
merriment he felt compelled to smile himself, although he looked more
sour than ever directly afterward.
“All right, Sam, I’ll try to remember,” he said with an effort, and
held out his hand.
The two shook hands and then the lank youth shook hands with Darry.
After this there was nothing to do but for Frank and Mark to take
Hockley’s hand also, and this they did, although stiffly.
But the ice was broken and soon all were talking as a crowd of boys
usually do. Hockley had brought a field glass with him and insisted on
all using it.
“Bought it down in Maiden Lane this morning,” he remarked. “Got the
address of a first-class firm from a friend who knows all about such
things. It cost me sixty-five dollars, but I reckon it’s worth it.
Ain’t many better glasses around. I expect it will be just the thing in
Venezuela.”
“No doubt,” said Darry, but felt somewhat disgusted over Hockley’s air
of importance. Nevertheless, the glass was a fine one, and everybody
enjoyed looking through it. Ships coming up the Lower Bay could be seen
at a long distance, and they could also see over Brooklyn and Long
Island, and over Jersey City and Newark to the Orange Mountains.
“What are you fellows going to do to-night?” questioned Hockley, when
they were going down the stairs again.
“We thought something of going to Manhattan Beach to see the
fireworks----” began Frank, and broke off short.
“I was thinking of going to Coney Island,” went on the lank youth.
“Supposing we all go there? I’ll foot the bill.”
“I shouldn’t care to go to Coney Island, and I don’t think Darry and
Sam will care either,” said Mark.
“Let us all go to Manhattan,” broke in Sam. “I’ve often heard of the
fireworks.” He had not the heart to give Hockley too much of a cold
shoulder.
So it was arranged, on the way back to the Battery, and then there was
nothing to do but ask the lank youth to dine with them.
“We are bound to have Glummy on us, sooner or later,” whispered Mark
to Frank, while they were eating. “Perhaps it’s just as well to make
the best of it. It will be time enough to turn on him when he does
something which is openly offensive.”
When it came time to settle the bill, the lank youth wished to pay for
everybody, but the others would not allow this.
“Let everybody pay for himself,” said Darry. “Then there won’t be any
trouble.”
“I can pay as well as not,” said Hockley, sourly.
“So can any of us,” returned Mark, dryly; and there the subject dropped.
The trip to Manhattan Beach and the fireworks were very enjoyable, and
before the evening came to an end everybody was in a much better humor,
although both Mark and Frank felt that they would have enjoyed the trip
more had Hockley not been present.
Hockley was stopping at the Astor House, and left them near the
entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge. He had wanted them to have a late
supper with him, and had even mentioned wine, but all had declined,
stating they were tired and wished to go to bed.
“He must be getting to be a regular high-flyer if he uses much wine,”
remarked Frank when the four were on their way uptown. “What a fool he
is with his money. He thinks that covers everything.”
“He’ll be foolish to take to drink,” returned Darry. “It has ruined
many a rich young fellow, and he ought to know it.”
“I think Hockley would be all right if it wasn’t for the high opinion
he has of himself,” came from Sam. “But his patronizing way of talking
is what irritates. He considers nobody as important as himself. In one
way I think he’d be better off if he was poor.”
“The family haven’t been rich very long--only eight or ten years, so
I’ve heard,” said Mark. “Poor Hockley isn’t used to it yet. It will be
a lesson to him to learn that there are lots of other rich folks in
this world who aren’t making any fuss and feathers about it.”
In the morning came a message from Professor Strong, stating that he
had arrived, and was stopping at the Hotel Manhattan. He added that he
would see Mr. Robertson and Mr. Newton that morning, and would be at
the service of the boys directly after lunch.
“Now we won’t lose much more time,” cried Frank. “I declare I wish we
were to sail for Venezuela to-day.”
“I fancy the professor has a good many arrangements to make,” said
Sam. “It’s quite a trip we are contemplating, remember.”
“Pooh! it’s not such a trip to Caracas,” returned Darry. “My father was
down there once--looking at a coffee plantation.”
“A trip to Caracas wouldn’t be so much, Darry,” said Mark. “But
you must remember that we are going further,--to the great lake of
Maracaibo, and then around to the mouth of the Orinoco, and hundreds of
miles up that immense stream. They tell me that the upper end of the
Orinoco is as yet practically unexplored.”
“Hurrah! we’ll become the Young Explorers!” cried Darry,
enthusiastically. “Say, I wonder if the professor will want us to go
armed?”
“I don’t think so,” said Frank. “He’ll go armed, and as he is a crack
shot I guess that will do for the lot of us.”
“Glummy showed me a pearl-handled pistol he had just bought,” put in
Sam. “He said it cost him sixteen dollars.”
“He’d be sure to mention the price,” said Frank, with a sickly grin.
“I’d like to see him face some wild beast--I’ll wager he’d drop his
pistol and run for his life.”
“Maybe somebody else would run, too,” came from Mark. “I don’t believe
it’s much fun to stand up in front of a big wild animal.”
“Are there any such in Venezuela?”
“I don’t know--we’ll have to ask the professor.”