[Illustration: Illustrated title page]
_THE LAKE SHORE SERIES._
BRAKE UP;
OR,
THE YOUNG PEACEMAKERS.
BY
OLIVER OPTIC,
AUTHOR OF “YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD,” “THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES,”
“THE WOODVILLE STORIES,” “THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES,”
“THE STARRY FLAG STORIES,” ETC.
BOSTON:
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.
NEW YORK:
LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM.
1873.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by
WILLIAM T. ADAMS,
In the Clerk’s Office of the
District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
ELECTROTYPED AT THE
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY,
NO. 19 SPRING LANE.
TO
MY YOUNG FRIEND
_ELLIOT WILLIAM SAYWARD_
This Book
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.
_THE LAKE SHORE SERIES._
1. _THROUGH BY DAYLIGHT_; or, The Young Engineer
of the Lake Shore Railroad.
2. _LIGHTNING EXPRESS_; or, The Rival Academies.
3. _ON TIME_; or, The Young Captain of the Ucayga Steamer.
4. _SWITCH OFF_; or, The War of the Students.
5. _BRAKE UP_; or, The Young Peacemakers.
6. _BEAR AND FORBEAR_; or, The Young Skipper of Lake Ucayga.
PREFACE.
“BRAKE UP” is the fifth of THE LAKE SHORE SERIES, and was one of the
serials which appeared in Oliver Optic’s Magazine. Although the volume
contains an independent story, the same characters that appeared in
preceding issues of the series are introduced. While Captain Wolf
Penniman still remains true to his high standard of duty, Nick Von
Wolter is presented to the reader in strong contrast with the hero.
The latter, ambitious to put himself forward in the world, makes the
oft-repeated mistake of those who follow any other guide than that of
religious principle. The result to the evil-doer is but the reflection
of the world’s experience; and though all who seek and follow the True
Light may not realize the same worldly success that crowned the life of
Wolf, they are absolutely sure to attain that peace of mind which alone
is happiness here and hereafter.
The railroad phrase “BRAKE UP” is not used in its technical sense,
but figuratively indicates how the wrong-doer should proceed when he
becomes conscious of his error; and the author hopes his young friends,
as well as those of mature years, will follow the example of the
magnate of Centreport when they find themselves on the “wrong track.”
HARRISON SQUARE, BOSTON,
January 26, 1870.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. PAGE
COLONEL WIMPLETON WON’T HAVE IT. 11
CHAPTER II.
BRAKE UP! 20
CHAPTER III.
MR. NICHOLAS VAN WOLTER. 31
CHAPTER IV.
A GLORIOUS OPPORTUNITY. 41
CHAPTER V.
ROMANCE AND REALITY. 52
CHAPTER VI.
A DISCOMFITED ASPIRANT. 63
CHAPTER VII.
COLONEL WIMPLETON DROPS THE REINS. 74
CHAPTER VIII.
SECRETS FOR TWO. 84
CHAPTER IX.
THE TIPSY MAGNATE. 96
CHAPTER X.
TOM WALTON EXPRESSES HIS OPINION. 106
CHAPTER XI.
A GENEROUS TIPPLER. 117
CHAPTER XII.
ANOTHER CALAMITY. 128
CHAPTER XIII.
AFTER THE ACCIDENT. 139
CHAPTER XIV.
“THE OCCURRENCES OF YESTERDAY.” 150
CHAPTER XV.
A TEMPTING OFFER. 162
CHAPTER XVI.
THE UCAYGA IN TROUBLE. 173
CHAPTER XVII.
AN ACT OF COURTESY. 185
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE MYSTERY OF THE CHECK. 196
CHAPTER XIX.
COLONEL WIMPLETON HUMILIATED. 208
CHAPTER XX.
A NIGHT TRIP TO HITACA. 220
CHAPTER XXI.
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE ROAD. 232
CHAPTER XXII.
SEVEN PER CENT. BONDS. 244
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE COMMITTEE OF CONFERENCE. 256
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE MAGNATES JOIN HANDS. 268
CHAPTER XXV.
MORE SEVEN PER CENT. BONDS. 280
CHAPTER XXVI.
IN HONOR OF THE RECONCILIATION. 292
BRAKE UP;
OR,
THE YOUNG PEACEMAKERS.
CHAPTER I.
COLONEL WIMPLETON WON’T HAVE IT.
“I won’t have it, Wolf Penniman! No, I won’t have it!” said and
repeated Colonel Wimpleton, as, with an uncertain step, he shuffled up
to the door of my state-room, on board of the Ucayga.
The magnate of Centreport was more than usually intoxicated. For two
or three years he had kept himself well filled with rum. His face had
grown red, and toddy-blossoms had gathered upon his aquiline nose, but
he seldom manifested any of the ordinary symptoms of drunkenness. It
was not often that he reeled, or became incoherent in his speech, as on
the present occasion. If he was ever overcome by his besetting vice,
it was not in public. I had certainly never before seen him in the
condition in which he presented himself at the door of my state-room.
I was aware that the habit of drinking was gaining upon him. I had
frequently seen him when he was affected by the liquor he had taken.
I had known him to fall asleep in company when the conversation
flagged, and I had often noticed the stupor of inebriation. He took
less interest in the steamer, and in other business enterprises in
which he was engaged, than formerly. Under the influence of his drams,
when excited, he was even more violent than when he was sober. For
years he had been the deadly enemy of Major Toppleton, the rich man of
Middleport, on the opposite side of the lake. His intemperance did not
moderate his hatred, though it deprived him of the energy to prosecute
malicious schemes against his rival.
Three years before, Major Toppleton had completed the Lake Shore
Railroad, intended in the beginning rather as a plaything for the
students of the Toppleton Institute, and as a means of giving the young
men a knowledge of railroad business, though the idea had enlarged on
his hands, and the line had become a regular thoroughfare of travel. A
violent competition had sprung up between the two sides of the lake.
The projector of the railroad had purchased the old line of steamers,
and ran them only to Middleport, thus compelling the people of the
large and thriving town of Centreport to do all their business through
the rival place on the other side of the lake. This was more than the
choleric temper of Colonel Wimpleton could endure, and he immediately
built the large, swift, and beautiful steamer Ucayga, to run between
Centreport and the lower end of the lake, thus giving the town direct
communication with the great business centres of the nation.
For a time the Lake Shore line had the advantage, and obtained nearly
all the through business; but the new steamer, of which I had the honor
to be captain, by making one through trip a day to Hitaca, at the upper
extremity of the lake, beating the railroad line by three quarters
of an hour, and affording better accommodation, without change from
boat to cars and from cars to boat, turned the current of travel, and
Centreport obtained a complete and decided victory over Middleport.
Of course Major Toppleton was sorely vexed at the triumph of his great
rival. He had vainly sought the means of recovering his lost prestige.
The best time he could make was four hours and a quarter, while the
steamer line accomplished the distance in three and a half. He could
regain the ground he had lost only by building a steamer like the
Ucayga, or extending his railroad through a wild region for twenty-five
miles, to the head of the lake. Either of these expedients involved
a very large outlay of money, which he was not willing to make. But
he continued to talk of doing something, and there was no end to the
agitation of the subject.
I had certain very decided views of my own, and earnestly hoped
that the major would adopt neither of his expensive expedients. All
Middleport and all Centreport had been at war with each other for
years. Not only the major and the colonel, but their two sons, and the
two academies under their patronage, had hated and fought each other;
but now all had been reconciled except the two magnates, though the
business rivalry between the two places was not abated. But it seemed
to me that, after the two sons had become good friends and the two
Institutes had fraternized, the two magnates hated each other more
bitterly than ever. I could not help fearing that a new steamer, or an
extension of the railroad, would increase the malignant rivalry; and,
acting through Tommy Toppleton, the major’s son, and Waddie Wimpleton,
the colonel’s son, I had done what I could to keep the two lines as
they were at the opening of my present story.
Major Toppleton had proposed to me, and I had suggested to Colonel
Wimpleton, the plan of uniting the two lines; but the magnate of
Centreport had indignantly and scornfully repudiated the proposition.
He would have nothing to do with the Toppletons. Such a union would
be a benefit to the travelling public, while it would afford a
remunerative business to each line. It would reduce the time from
Hitaca to Ucayga three quarters of an hour, and make an end of all
the ill feeling engendered by the competition. The one purpose of my
existence, at this time, was to accomplish this union. I hoped and
prayed for some happy circumstance that would reconcile the great men.
I was even daring enough to attempt to contrive a plan by which this
blessed result might be attained; but I had not been able to devise any
expedient which appeared hopeful enough to be attempted.
Colonel Wimpleton was more than usually intoxicated when he presented
himself at the door of my state-room. As he spoke he staggered into
the apartment, and dropped heavily into a chair. It was mortifying and
disgusting even to me to see him in this condition; but how much more
so to his family! I pitied his wife, I pitied Waddie, and I pitied
Minnie Wimpleton, the oldest daughter of the magnate; indeed, I pitied
all who were connected with him; for if he was a terrible man when
sober, he was vastly more terrible when intoxicated. Though he had
occasionally found fault with me since I had been in charge of the
steamer, he never indulged in anything which could be called abuse. On
the other hand, if anybody could be said to have any influence over
him, I had a very little. It was by my plans, and through my direct
agency, that the steamer had won the victory over the rival line.
I had always treated him with respect, and even with “distinguished
consideration,” but at the same time I maintained my independence. The
colonel knew that the moment he cast me off, the major was ready to
take me up, and restore me to my old position on the railroad. Perhaps
it is not exactly modest for me to state these things, but it would be
mere affectation for me to ignore them.
“I won’t have it!” repeated Colonel Wimpleton, with greater emphasis,
as he dropped into the chair in my state-room.
“What, sir?” I inquired.
“I say I won’t have it,” he replied, fixing a kind of vacant stare upon
the floor.
I concluded that what he would not have related to the steamer,
and I was prepared to receive the rebuke he had apparently come to
administer. I could think of nothing I had done to deserve censure.
The Ucayga had made all her trips with clock-work regularity. We had
been “on time;” and except when the days were too short, we had put
her “through by daylight.” The pleasure season was just opening, and
we were carrying crowds of passengers. Certainly everything seemed to
be lovely, and I was not conscious of deserving a rebuke. But in my
relations with the colonel I often received what I did not deserve. I
was tolerably intimate in the family of Major Toppleton. Tommy, now
thoroughly reformed, was one of my best friends. He was grateful to me
because I had assisted in saving him from the wrath of Jed Trotwood,
and as he still had a great influence over his father, he always
insured me a welcome at the Toppleton mansion.
Grace Toppleton was very kindly disposed towards me; and being eighteen
now, I am willing to confess that I believed her to be the prettiest
and the dearest girl in the whole world. I had become very particular
in regard to my dress, and my mother often declared that she was afraid
I should yet be a dandy, I was so particular to wear good clothes, and
to have my neck-tie nicely adjusted. But, then, I was the commander of
the Ucayga, and it was a part of my duty to make myself agreeable to
the passengers, including many elegant and accomplished ladies. Yet
I could not conceal from myself the truth that I cared more for the
opinion of Grace than of all others. For her I wore the good clothes;
for her I was particular about my neck-tie; and for her I brushed my
hair till every individual lock had found its most graceful position.
By continued perseverance in shaving my upper lip, I had coaxed a
tolerable mustache into being, which, I fondly believed, not only
overcame the juvenility of my appearance, but added a manly feature to
my face.
I was very much interested in Grace, as I had been from the first
moment I saw her. Indeed, this interest had grown upon me in a manner
which I need not stop to explain. I acknowledged to myself that I
had “intentions” in regard to her, though I could not help feeling
that they were very presumptuous in me, who had neither a great name
nor a great family to boast of. I had never said anything to Grace
about these intentions, but I flattered myself that she was not
wholly indifferent towards me. Her father did not seem to notice my
attentions, but I was afraid he would. As this was the thought always
nearest to my heart, it occurred to me, as the tipsy colonel sat
looking at the floor in my state-room, that my devotion to Grace was
what he would not have.