A HOME AND TWO FATHERS.
Of course they all went to the Occidental, for everybody went first to
the Occidental in those days. As they drove through the city, in open
carriages, their long hair, buckskin shirts, rags, in some cases
soleless and toeless boots, and generally wild and disreputable
appearance attracted much amused attention from the well-dressed
shoppers of Montgomery Street; and, when they trooped into the marble
rotunda of the great hotel, they excited the universal curiosity of its
other and more civilized guests.
But they did not mind--they enjoyed the sensation they were creating;
and Glen, who was one of the wildest-looking of them all, rather pitied
Binney Gibbs on account of the fine clothing he had already assumed, as
the two met and exchanged hearty greetings once more.
"Come up into my room, Glen," said Binney, eagerly, "I've got a lot of
Brimfield news, and there's a pile of letters for you besides. Only
think, Lame Wolf is playing short-stop on the ball nine, and they say
he's going to make one of the best players they've ever had."
The last news Glen had received from home was in the letters Mr. Hobart
had brought from Santa Fe nearly five months before. He had learned then
of Lame Wolf's safe arrival at Brimfield, and of his beginning to study
English; but now to hear of his being on the ball nine! That was making
progress; and the boy felt very proud of his young Indian. But there was
more startling news than that awaiting him. In one of the letters from
his adopted father, which, though it bore the latest date, had already
been waiting in San Francisco more than a month, he read, with
amazement, the following paragraphs:
"I have just received a note from a lady who writes that she met a
gentleman in New Mexico who told her all about you. She was intensely
interested, because she thinks she knew your mother, and travelled with
her and you on the day the train was wrecked in Glen Eddy creek, when
you and I were the only survivors. She also says that the mother with
whom she travelled said her baby was just a year old, and that day was
his birthday. So, my dear boy, if it should happen that you and the baby
she mentions are the same, you are a year younger than we have always
thought you, and are just the age of Binney Gibbs. In conclusion, the
lady writes that she believes your real father to be still alive, and
she thinks she knows his name, but prefers not to mention it until she
hears from me all that I know of your history. I, of course, wrote to
her at once, and am anxiously expecting an answer. I never loved you
more than now, and to give you up will well-nigh break my heart; but, if
there is anything better in store for you than I can offer, I would be
the last one to stand in the way of your accepting it.
"Now, my dear boy, come home as soon as you can, and perhaps you will
find two fathers awaiting you instead of one. We are full of anxiety
concerning you. Be sure and telegraph the moment you arrive in San
Francisco."
Over and over did Glen read this letter before he could control himself
sufficiently to speak. Binney Gibbs noticed his agitation, and finally
said,
"No bad news, I hope, old man?"
For answer the boy handed him the letter, which Binney read with
ever-growing excitement. When he finished he exclaimed, "It's wonderful,
Glen, and I do hope it will come out all right. I always felt sorry for
you at not knowing who you were, even when I was so meanly jealous of
you for being stronger and more popular than I, and now I congratulate
you from the bottom of my heart. What a lucky thing it has been though,
over and over again, not only for you, but for me, and the whole second
division, that you were stronger than I!" he added, with a hearty
sincerity that he would not have exhibited a year before. "I tell you
what, this trip has opened my eyes to some things, and one of them is
that a fellow's body needs just as much training as his mind."
"It has opened mine too," said Glen, earnestly. "It has taught me that,
no matter how strong a fellow is, he can't expect to amount to much in
this world unless he knows something, and that he can't know much unless
he learns it by hard study. If ever I get a chance to go to school
again, you better believe I'll know how to value it."
"And if I ever get another chance to learn how to swim, you may be sure
I won't throw it away in a hurry," laughed Binney.
"Only see what a splendid fellow 'Billy' Brackett is," continued Glen,
"just because he has trained his muscle and his brain at the same time,
without letting either get ahead of the other. And, speaking of 'Billy'
Brackett, I must go and show him this letter, because he is one of the
best friends I have got in the world, and I know he'll be glad to hear
anything that pleases me."
First, Glen stopped at the telegraph office in the hotel, and sent the
following despatch to Brimfield.
"Just arrived, safe and sound. Start for home first steamer," for which
he paid eight dollars in gold.
Then he went to "Billy" Brackett's room, where he found that young
engineer struggling with a new coat that had just been sent in from a
tailor's, and lamenting, more than ever, the loss of his shiny but
well-loved old cutaway that had been eaten by one of the hungry mules on
the desert.
He was as interested as Glen knew he would be in the letter, and as he
finished it he exclaimed:
"Well, you are in luck, my boy, and I'm glad of it! Here I am, without a
father to my name, while you seem likely to have two. Well, you deserve
a dozen; and if you had 'em, each one would be prouder of you than the
other."
After a week spent in San Francisco, during which time the barber,
tailor, and various outfitters made a marvellous change in Glen's
personal appearance, he, together with General Elting and Binney Gibbs,
boarded one of the great Pacific Mail Steamships for Panama. Mr. Hobart,
"Billy" Brackett, and the other members of the second division, had
decided to remain for a while on that coast, and most of them had
already accepted positions on some of the various engineering works then
in progress in California; but they were all at the steamer to see the
homeward-bound travellers off. As the great wheels were set in motion,
and the stately ship moved slowly from the wharf, the quieter spectators
were startled by the tremendous farewell cheer that arose from the
"campmates" who remained behind; and the cries of "good-bye, general!
we'll be on hand whenever you want us again! Good-bye, Grip! Good-bye,
Glen, old man! We won't forget the desert in a hurry! Good-bye!"
The run down the coast was a smooth and pleasant one; while the several
Mexican and Central American ports at which they touched were full of
interest and delightful novelty to the Brimfield boys. They thoroughly
enjoyed crossing the Isthmus, and would gladly have lingered longer amid
its wonderful tropic scenery. Not until they were on the Atlantic,
however, and steaming northward, did they realize that they were fairly
on their way home.
One day, as the two boys were sitting on deck, in company with General
Elting, gazing at the coast of Cuba, which they were then passing,
Binney Gibbs broke a long silence with the remark, "Doesn't it seem
queer, Glen, to think that when you get home you will be just the age
you were when you left it, and perhaps your name won't be 'Glen Eddy'
after all?"
General Elting had not heard of Glen's letter from his adopted father,
nor had he ever heard him called "Glen Eddy" before; and now he asked
Binney what he meant by such a curious speech.
When it was explained, he sat silent for several minutes, looking at
Glen with such a peculiar expression that the boy grew uneasy beneath
the fixed gaze. Then, without a word, he rose and walked away, nor did
they see him again for several hours. He talked much with Glen during
the remainder of the voyage, and frequently puzzled him by his
questions, and the interest he manifested in everything relating to his
past life.
As he was going to St. Louis, he took the same train with the boys from
New York; and, though he bade them good-bye as they neared Brimfield, he
said that he hoped and expected to see them again very shortly.
How natural the place looked as the train rolled up to the little
station, and how impossible it was to realize that they had crossed the
continent and sailed on two oceans since leaving it!
"There's father!" shouted Glen and Binney at the same instant.
"And there are all the boys! Who is that dark, good-looking chap with
them? It can't be Lame Wolf! But it is, though! Did you ever see such a
change for the better? Bully for Lame Wolf!"
"Hurrah for Glen Eddy! Hurrah for Binney Gibbs!" shouted the Brimfield
boys, wild with the excitement of welcoming home two such heroes as the
young explorers were in their eyes. The very first to grasp Glen's hand
was the Indian lad, and he said in good English, though with a Cheyenne
accent, "How Glen! Lem Wolf is very glad. Lem Wolf is short-stop now. He
can play ball."
Binney Gibbs disappeared in his father's carriage; but Glen walked from
the station with his adopted father, and everybody wanted to shake hands
with him, and ask him questions, and throng about him, so that it seemed
as though they never would reach home.
It was a happy home-coming, and Glen was touched by the interest and the
kindly feeling manifested towards him; but how he did long to reach the
house, and be alone for a minute with Mr. Matherson. There was one
question that he was so eager, and yet almost afraid, to ask. Had his
own father been discovered? But he could not ask it before all those
people, nor did he have an opportunity for a full hour after they
reached the house. Some of the neighbors were there, and they had to
have supper, and everything seemed to interfere to postpone that quiet
talk for which he was so anxious.
At length he could wait no longer, and, almost dragging Mr. Matherson
into the little front parlor, he closed the door and said breathlessly,
"Now tell me, father; tell me quick! Is he alive? Have you found him?"
"Yes, my boy, he is alive, or was a few months ago, and I think we can
find him. In fact, I believe you know him very well, and could tell me
where to find him better than I can tell you."
"What do you mean?" cried Glen. "Oh, tell me quick! What is his name?"
There was so much confusion outside that they did not notice the opening
of the front gate, nor the strange step on the walk. As Mr. Matherson
was about to reply to the boy's eager question, the parlor door opened,
and one of the children entered, with a card in her hand, saying,
"Somebody wants to see you, papa."
As Mr. Matherson glanced at the card he sprang to his feet, trembling
with excitement.
"Gerald Elting!" he cried. "Why, Glen, that is the name of your own
father!"
"And here is his own father, eager to claim his son," came from the open
doorway, in the manly tones that Glen had long since learned to love.
The next moment the man's arms were about the boy's neck, as, in a voice
trembling with long-suppressed emotion, he cried,
"Oh, my son, my son! Have I found you after all these years? Now is my
long sorrow indeed turned to joy."
THE END.
Books by KIRK MUNROE
CAMPMATES.
DORYMATES.
CANOEMATES.
RAFTMATES.
WAKULLA.
THE FLAMINGO FEATHER.
DERRICK STERLING.
CHRYSTAL, JACK & CO.
THE COPPER PRINCESS.
FORWARD, MARCH!
THE BLUE DRAGON.
FOR THE MIKADO.
UNDER THE GREAT BEAR.
THE FUR-SEAL'S TOOTH.
SNOW-SHOES AND SLEDGES.
RICK DALE.
THE PAINTED DESERT.