RECEIVING AN OFFER AND ACCEPTING IT.
"Well, that is bad," said the master mechanic, when Glen told him that
he had been unable to arrive at any decision in regard to going to work.
"It is bad, for I can't see that there is anything open to you just now,
except one of the two things we talked about last evening. At the same
time, I hate to compel you, or even persuade you, to do anything that is
hard and distasteful. If you were a year younger, I should say, 'Spend
your vacation as you always have done, and have as good a time as you
know how, without worrying about the future.' At seventeen, though, a
boy should begin to look ahead, and take some decisive step in the
direction of his future career. If he decides to study, he should also
decide what he wants to study for. If he decides to work, he should have
some object to work for, and should turn all his energies in that
direction. I declare, Glen, I hardly know how to advise you in this
matter. Do you think of any particular thing you would rather do, or try
to be? If so, and I can help you to it, you know how gladly I will, in
every way that lies in my power."
"It seems to me I would rather be a civil-engineer than anything else,"
answered the boy, a little hesitatingly.
"A civil-engineer!" exclaimed the other, in surprise; "why, Glen, lad,
don't you know that it takes the hardest kind of study to be that?"
Just then their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a
visitor, who, to Glen's surprise, was none other than Mr. Hobart, the
engineer whose position he had been thinking of as one of the most
desirable in the world.
After a few moments' pleasant chat the visitor asked Mr. Matherson if he
could have a private business talk with him. So Glen left the room, and
wandered restlessly about the house, filled with a lively curiosity as
to what business the engineer could have with his adopted father.
In the meantime Mr. Hobart was saying, "I have known your son for some
time by sight, Mr. Matherson, and took a fancy to him from the first. We
only got acquainted to-day, when he performed an act of daring in my
presence, and at the same time rendered me an important service. I find
him to be exactly such a boy as I supposed he was; a generous-hearted,
manly fellow, who is just now unhappy and discontented because he has no
particular aim in life, and does not know what he wants to do."
"Yes," said Mr. Matherson, "that is just the trouble; and the worst of
it is that I don't know what to advise him."
"Then, perhaps, I am just in time to help you. My work here is about
finished, and in a few days I am to leave for Kansas, where I am to take
charge of a locating-party on one of the Pacific railroads. If you are
willing to let Glen go with me, I can make a place for him in this
party. The pay will only be thirty dollars per month, besides his
expenses; but, by the end of the summer, I believe he will have gained
more valuable knowledge and experience than he could in a year of home
and school life. I believe, too, in that time I can show him the value
of an education and the necessity of studying for it. Now, without
really knowing anything about it, he thinks he would like to become a
civil-engineer. After a few months' experience in the unsettled country
to which I am going he will have seen the rough side of the life, and
can decide intelligently whether he desires to continue in it or not."
Mr. Matherson could hardly restrain his delight at the prospect of such
an opening for the boy whom he loved so dearly; but he was too honest to
let him start out under false colors; so he said,
"I can never tell you how grateful I am for this offer, sir; but I don't
want you to think that my boy is any better than he really is. He is not
a good scholar, and seems to lack application. Even now he is in danger
of being turned back a whole year in school because he has failed to
keep up with his class."
"I know all that," replied Mr. Hobart, smiling; "and it is one of the
reasons why I want him to go with me. I was very much such a boy myself,
and think I understand his state of mind perfectly. He has reached the
most trying period of his life, and the one where he most needs
encouragement and help. He has a sufficiently good education to build
on, and is bright enough to comprehend things that are clearly explained
to him. As for his having no knowledge of the peculiar studies necessary
for an engineer, I am glad that he hasn't. I believe that it is better
for all boys to gain some practical knowledge of the business they
intend to follow before they really begin to study for it. A few months
or a year of practice shows them in what they are deficient and what
they need to learn. I could get plenty of young fellows to go out to
Kansas with me who are crammed with theoretical knowledge of surveying
and engineering, but who are ignorant of its practice. Such chaps think
they know it all, and are impatient of criticism or advice. I can get
along better with one who knows little or nothing to begin with, but who
is bright and willing to learn. In the end I will guarantee to make such
a one the more valuable engineer of the two."
"It is a new idea to me," said Mr. Matherson, reflectively, "but I
believe you are right."
"There is another reason why I fancy your boy, and think I can make an
engineer of him," continued Mr. Hobart. "His physical condition seems to
me to be perfect. As they say of prize animals, he seems to be sound in
wind and limb, and without a blemish. Now, the life of an engineer,
particularly in unsettled countries, is a hard one. He is exposed to all
sorts of weather; must often sleep without a shelter of any kind, and
must work hard from early dawn until late at night, sometimes on a
scanty allowance of food. It is as hard as, and in many cases harder
than, active service in the army. It is no life for weaklings, and we do
not want them; but, from what I have seen of your boy, I do not believe
that even you can point out any physical defect in his make-up."
"No, I certainly cannot," replied Mr. Matherson, heartily, glad of a
chance to praise his boy without qualification, in at least one respect.
"I believe him to be physically perfect, and I know that there is not a
boy of his age in town who is his match in strength, agility, or
daring."
"So you see," laughed the engineer, "he is exactly the boy I want; and
if you will let him go with me I shall consider that you have conferred
a favor."
"Of course I will let him go, sir, and shall feel forever grateful to
you for the offer."
Thus it was all settled, and Glen was summoned to hear the result of the
few minutes' conversation by which the whole course of his life was to
be changed. By it, too, he was to be lifted in a moment from the depths
of despondency and uncertainty to such a height of happiness as he had
not dared dream of, much less hope for. The moment he entered the room
he was assured, by the smiling faces of its occupants, that their topic
of conversation had been a pleasant one; but when its nature was
explained to him he could hardly credit his senses.
Would he like to go out to Kansas for the summer?--to a land still
occupied by wild Indians and buffalo? The idea of asking him such a
question! There was nothing in the whole world he would like better!
Why, it was almost as good as the position offered to Binney Gibbs; and,
certainly, no boy could ever hope for anything more splendid than that.
In two respects he considered himself even more fortunate than Binney.
One was that he was to go with Mr. Hobart, whom he had come to regard
with an intense admiration as one of the wisest and kindest of men. The
other was that they were to start on the third day from that time, while
Binney would not go for nearly two weeks yet.
What busy days the next two were! How Glen did fly around with his
preparations! How interested Mr. Hobart was, and how he laughed at many
of the excited boy's questions! Ought he to have a buckskin suit and a
broad-brimmed hat? Should he need any other weapons besides a revolver
and a bowie-knife? Would it be better to take long-legged leather boots
or rubber-boots, or both? How large a trunk ought he to have?
His outfit, prepared by Mr. Hobart's advice, finally consisted of two
pairs of double blankets, rolled up in a rubber sheet and securely
corded, two pairs of easy, laced walking-shoes, and one pair of leather
leggings, three flannel shirts, three suits of under-clothing, and six
pairs of socks, one warm coat, two pairs of trousers, a soft, gray felt
hat, half a dozen silk handkerchiefs, and the same number of towels. Of
these he would wear, from the start, the hat, coat, one of the flannel
shirts, one of the two pairs of trousers, a suit of under-clothing, one
of the silk handkerchiefs knotted about his neck, and one of the pairs
of shoes. All the rest could easily be got into a small leathern valise,
which would be as much of a trunk as he would be allowed to carry.
He would need a stout leather belt, to which should be slung a good
revolver in a holster, a common sheath-knife, that need not cost more
than thirty cents, and a small tin cup that could be bought for five.
Besides these things, Mrs. Matherson, who loved the boy as though he
were her own, tucked into the valise a small case of sewing materials, a
brush, comb, cake of soap, tooth-brush, hand-glass, and a Testament in
which his name was written.
On the very day of his departure his adopted father presented the
delighted boy with a light rifle of the very latest pattern. It was, of
course, a breech-loader, and carried six extra cartridges in its
magazine. In its neat canvas-case, Glen thought it was the very
handsomest weapon he had ever seen, and the other boys thought so too.
With them he was the hero of the hour, and even Binney Gibbs's
glittering prospects were almost forgotten, for the time being, in this
more immediate excitement.
Of course they all gathered at the railway station to see him start on
the morning of the appointed day. It seemed as though almost everybody
else in the village was there, too. Binney Gibbs was among the very few
of Glen's acquaintances who did not come. So, amid tears and laughter,
good wishes and loud cheerings, the train rolled away, bearing Glen Eddy
from the only home he had ever known towards the exciting scenes of the
new life that awaited him in the far West.