A GREAT SURPRISE.
From New York to Tacoma is a long journey. Over three thousand miles
must be traversed by rail, but the trip is far from tiresome. Chester
and his companion thoroughly enjoyed it. All was new and strange, and
the broad spaces through which they passed were full of interest.
They stopped at Niagara Falls, but only for a few hours, and spent a
day in Chicago. Then they were whirled onward to St. Paul and
Minneapolis, and later on over the broad plains of North Dakota and
through the mountains of Montana.
“I never thought the country was so large before,” said Chester to
Edward. “You have been over the ground once before.”
“Yes; but part of it was during the night, It is pleasant to see it
once more. Many of the places have grown considerably, though it is
only two years since I came from Portland.”
Chester made some agreeable acquaintances. An unsociable traveler
misses many of the profitable results of his journey, besides finding
time hang heavily on his hands.
Just after leaving Bismarck, in North Dakota, Chester’s attention was
called to an old man, whose white hair and wrinkled face indicated that
he had passed the age of seventy years.
The conductor came through the car, collecting tickets. The old man
searched for his, and an expression of dismay overspread his face.
“I can’t find my ticket,” he said.
“That is unfortunate. Where did you come from?”
“From Buffalo.”
“When did you last see your ticket?”
“I stopped over one night in Bismarck, and had to share my room with a
young man, for the hotel was crowded. I think he must have picked my
pocket of the ticket.”
“Did you know the ticket was missing when you boarded the train?”
“No, sir. I did not think to look.”
“Your case is unfortunate. How far are you going?”
“To Tacoma. I have a son there.”
“I am afraid you will have to pay the fare from here. I have no
discretion in the matter, and cannot allow you to ride without a
ticket.”
“Don’t you believe my ticket was stolen?” asked the old man, in a state
of nervous agitation.
“Yes, I believe it. I don’t think a man of your age would deceive me.
But I cannot let you travel without paying for another.”
“I haven’t money enough,” said the old man, piteously. “If you will
wait till I reach Tacoma my son will give me money to pay you.”
“I am not allowed to do that. I think you will have to get out at the
next station.”
The old man was much agitated.
“It is very hard,” he sighed. “I—I don’t know what to do.”
Chester had listened to this conversation with great sympathy for the
unfortunate traveler, on account of his age and apparent helplessness.
“How much is the fare to Tacoma from this point?” he asked.
“In the neighborhood of fifty dollars,” answered the conductor.
“Will your son be able to pay this?” asked Chester.
“Oh, yes,” answered the old man. “William has been doin’ well. He is
going to build a large hotel in Tacoma—he and another man.”
“Then,” said Chester, “I will advance you what money you need. You can
give me a memorandum, so that I can collect it from your son.”
“Heaven bless you, young man!” said the old man, fervently. “You are
indeed a friend to me who am but a stranger. I am sure you will
prosper.”
“Thank you.”
“What a fellow you are, Chester!” said Edward. “You will make yourself
poor helping others.”
“I shall sleep better for having aided the old man,” answered Chester.
The rest of the journey was uneventful. The two boys went at once to
Tacoma, as Chester felt that the gentlemen who were negotiating for his
lots were probably in a hurry to arrange for the building of the hotel.
After establishing themselves at a hotel and eating dinner, they went
at once to the office of Dean & Downie, the real estate agents from
whom Chester had received a letter.
Here a surprise awaited him.
Standing at a desk in the rear of the office was a figure that looked
familiar. The man turned as the door opened to admit Chester, and the
latter recognized to his great astonishment his old enemy—David
Mullins!