ALMOST TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE.
If Glen had detected that smile on Mr. Hobart's face, he would have been
spared a few moments of very unhappy reflections. He would have known
that his brown-bearded friend could not smile while dashing his high
hopes, and that there must be something pleasant back of it all. But as
the engineer, who could not resist the temptation to try the effects of
a disappointment on the boy's temper, turned away his face at that
moment, his words were heard, while the smile was not noticed.
Like a great surging wave, the thought of an ignominious return to
Brimfield, and a picture of the mill and the store as he had last seen
them, swept over the boy's mind. Then came the more recent picture of
the happy out-of-door life he had been leading for the past three days.
How could he give up the one and go back to the other? Of course, if Mr.
Hobart said he could no longer have work with the surveying-party, it
must be so. There could be no appeal from that decision. And he had
tried so hard to do well whatever had been given him to do, and to make
himself useful! It was too bad! But surely there must be other work in
this big, bustling, wide-awake West, even for a boy. With this thought
his clouded face cleared, and a look of settled resolve overspread it.
"I'm awfully sorry, sir," he said; but the tone was almost cheerful, and
Mr. Hobart's face was now the one that expressed surprise. If he had
been able to examine Glen's mind, he would have seen that the boy had
simply decided not to go back, at least not until the summer was over,
but to stay where he was, and attempt to solve the bread-and-butter
problem alone.
"My new orders came very unexpectedly," continued the engineer, "and
have completely upset my plans. It seems that the company has decided to
send me through to the Pacific with General Lyle's exploring
expedition."
A lump rose in Glen's throat. General Lyle's expedition! Why, that was
the one Binney Gibbs was to accompany. Was all the world going on that
wonderful trip except himself? It almost seemed so. "It will be a fine
trip, sir," he said, trying to choke down the lump.
"Yes, I suppose it will; but it will also be a hard and dangerous one,
such as a great many people would not care to undertake. I don't suppose
you would, for instance?" and Mr. Hobart looked quizzically at the boy.
"Wouldn't I! I'd just like to have somebody offer me a chance to go on
that expedition, that's all!"
"Very well," replied the engineer, quietly, "I'll offer you the chance,
just to see whether you will accept it or not. Will you go with me on
this long trip?"
For a few seconds Glen gazed into the brown-bearded face without
answering. Was he awake or dreaming? Had the words been spoken? "Do you
really mean it, sir?" he almost gasped, at length, "or are you only
making fun of me!"
"Mean it? of course I do," was the reply. "I generally mean what I say,
and if you really care to explore Kansas and Colorado, New Mexico,
Arizona, and Southern California in my company, I shall be most happy to
have you do so. I am also authorized to offer you a position, a humble
one, to be sure, but one that will pay the same salary that you would
have received as a member of the locating-party, in the division I am to
command. I don't suppose there will be many chances for you to run
locomotives out there; but I have no doubt there will be plenty of
swimming to be done, as well as other things in the line of your
peculiar abilities. But you have not answered my question yet. Will you
accept my offer, or do you wish a few days in which to consider it?"
"Oh, Mr. Hobart!" cried the boy, who was standing up in his excitement.
"It seems almost too good to be true! I can't realize that this splendid
chance, that I've been trying so hard not to think about, has really
come to me. Why, I'd rather go on that trip than do anything else in the
whole world, and if you'll only take me along, in any position, I don't
care what, I'll be grateful to you all my life."
"But what do you think your father will say? Do you suppose he will let
you go?" inquired the engineer, soberly.
Glen's face became grave again in an instant. "Oh, yes, he's sure to,"
he replied, "but I'll write this very minute, and ask him.
"There won't be time to receive an answer," said Mr. Hobart, "for we
must start from here to-morrow; but perhaps this letter will make things
all right. You see," he added, "I thought it was just possible that you
might care to accept my offer, and so I took the liberty of writing and
asking your father if he were willing to have you do so. I also asked
him not to say anything about it in Brimfield until after we had
started, for fear I should be flooded with applications from other boys,
who might imagine I had the power to give them positions. Your father's
answer reached me here an hour ago, and with it came this letter for
you."
No own father could have written a kinder or more satisfactory letter to
a boy than the one Mr. Matherson sent to his adopted son. It readily
granted the required permission, and congratulated Glen upon the
splendid opportunity thus opened to him. At the same time it told him
how they already missed him, and how they hated the thought of not
seeing him for a whole year. It closed with the information that Binney
Gibbs was making extensive preparations for his departure to the far
West, and that the famous expedition, of which he was to be a member,
was the all-absorbing topic of conversation in Brimfield.
Mr. Hobart watched the boy's glowing face as he read this letter with
genuine pleasure; for he had taken a real liking to him, and was not
only glad of this opportunity for affording him such unalloyed
happiness, but also that they were to be companions on the proposed
trip.
Matters being thus happily settled, the engineer told Glen that they
would start the following evening for the end of the track, nearly two
hundred miles west of that point, where the expedition was to
rendezvous, and where he was to establish a camp for their reception.
The information that interested and pleased Glen the most, though, was
that Mr. Brackett was to be assistant engineer of the new division, and
that most of the members of the party with whom the boy was already on
such friendly terms, were also to join it.
Being dismissed by Mr. Hobart, with orders to be on hand bright and
early in the morning, for the morrow would be a busy day, the happy lad
rushed away to find those who were to be his fellow-explorers, and talk
over with them the wonders and delights of the proposed trip. To his
surprise not one of them was anywhere about the hotel, and he was told
that the entire party had gone down town a few moments before. Too
excited to do anything else, Glen immediately set out to find them. For
some time he searched in vain; but at length, attracted by the sound of
great shouting and laughter, he joined a throng of people who were
gathered about one of the few barber shops of the city, and seemed to be
vastly entertained by something taking place inside.
Recognizing "Billy" Brackett's voice above all the other sounds that
came from the shop, Glen pushed himself forward until he finally gained
a position inside the door. All the engineers were there. Three of them
occupied the three chairs that the shop boasted, and were having their
hair cut. Another, standing on a table, so that he could overlook the
crowd, was superintending the operation. But for his voice and his
unmistakable costume, Glen would never have recognized in him the
dignified young engineer under whom he had been at work but an hour
before. Every spear of hair had disappeared from his head, and he was as
bald as a billiard cue. Seated on the table, contentedly swinging their
legs, were two other bald-headed figures, whom Glen with difficulty
recognized as the leveller and rodman.
When the three victims in the chairs had been reduced to a similar state
of baldness, their places were instantly occupied by the remaining
members of the party. The whole performance was conducted amid the most
uproarious fun, of which the recently promoted assistant engineer was
the ruling spirit.
As the chairs became empty for the third time, and the nine bald-headed
members prepared to depart, each declaring that the others were the most
comical-looking objects he had ever seen, they suddenly caught sight of
Glen, and a rush was made for him. In another moment, despite his
struggles, he too was seated in a barber's chair, and was rapidly
growing as bald as his fellow-explorers.
"You'll look worse than a boiled owl, Glen," remarked "Billy" Brackett,
encouragingly.
"And be a living terror to Injuns," cried another.
"It'll be the greatest comfort in the world, old man, to feel that
though you may be killed, you can't be scalped," shouted a third.
Realizing that resistance was useless, Glen submitted to the shearing
process with as good a grace as possible. A few minutes later, wearing a
very loose-fitting hat, he was marching up the street with his jovial
comrades, joining with the full strength of his lungs in the popular
chorus of
"The bald-headed man, who's been always in the van
Of everything that's going, since the world first began."