ON THE FALL RIVER BOAT.
Dean didn't see his employer till the next morning. Mr. Kirby did not
ask him where he had spent the evening previous, as Dean thought it
possible he might do. Indeed he seemed in unusual good spirits, and
handed his new clerk a couple of dollars to defray any expenses he
might incur.
"Are we going to stay long in New York?" Dean ventured to ask.
"No, we go to Boston this afternoon by the Fall River line."
This was a surprise to Dean, who fancied they were bound west.
When he suggested this, Mr. Kirby said, "I have a little business to
transact in Boston first. We can go West from there as well as from New
York."
Dean was not upon the whole sorry that he should have an opportunity
of seeing a city so famous as Boston. "I shall feel that I am quite a
traveler," he said to himself.
During the forenoon he was called upon to bid good-bye to Guy
Gladstone. That young man had concluded his arrangements for a visit to
his Indian hunting grounds, and was in a hurry to leave New York, as he
was liable at any moment to meet some friend of his father's who might
detain him, or ask him questions which it would embarrass him to answer.
At about fifteen minutes to five o'clock Dean and his employer went
down to the foot of Murray Street, and went on board the steamer
Pilgrim of the famous Fall River line. Mr. Kirby succeeded in obtaining
a stateroom, with two berths, and allowed Dean to occupy the upper one.
Our young hero surveyed with admiration the palatial accommodations
of the great steamer; the grand saloon, the showy chandeliers, the
handsome furniture and costly mirrors.
"You can amuse yourself as you please," said Kirby. "I shall be
occupied till about ten o'clock, when I shall be ready to go to bed."
He showed Dean the way to the supper room, and told him he could take
supper whenever he pleased. Dean availed himself of this permission,
and after supper stopped at the book table in the main saloon, which
was under the charge of a boy rather older than himself, arrayed in a
blue uniform. This boy he found very social and agreeable. He learned
that he was called Dan, but did not inquire his last name.
"Don't you get tired of traveling on the boat?" asked Dean.
"No."
"But it's the same thing every night."
"I have my business to attend to. That prevents it becoming monotonous."
"Are you ever sea-sick?"
"No," answered Dan with a smile. "It would take a good deal to upset me
now, I'm so used to it."
"Do you expect to follow the business when you're a man?"
"No, I think I shall look for a place in a wholesale store in Boston
next fall. It won't pay as well at first, but it will lead to a good
salary in time. I suppose you are going to Boston?"
"Yes, but not to stay."
"How long do you stay there?"
"I don't know yet. That depends upon my employer."
"The man you are traveling with?"
"Yes."
"I noticed him. He is a tall, sallow man, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"Have you been working for him long?"
"No, I've only just started."
"What do you do?"
"I am his private secretary—that's what he calls me, but I don't know
yet what my duties will be."
"He don't look like a man likely to employ a private secretary," said
Dan shrewdly.
"I don't know what sort of men do have secretaries," Dean said in a
perplexed tone.
"Oh, governors, members of Congress, and sometimes authors. I don't
suppose he's either of those three."
"I think not," answered Dean smiling.
"Well, he has a right to have one, at any rate. Do you like him?"
"I can't say I do, though I have nothing to complain of. He seems to be
liberal."
"How much does he pay you, if you don't mind telling me?"
"Twenty-five dollars a month."
"And your expenses besides?"
Dean nodded.
"My, that's fine pay. I'd be a private secretary myself for that."
"If he wants two, I'll recommend you."
"You can tell all you know about me," said Dan laughing.
"That wouldn't be much, but I can judge of you by your looks."
"Thank you. I couldn't recommend your employer very highly on that
ground."
Here two or three customers came up and inquired of the young
news-agent about some of the latest novels. Dean, seeing that his
friend was occupied, went to the after part of the boat, and seating
himself on a camp stool watched with interest the progress of the
vessel and the shores so far as they were visible. It was now dusk, and
shadows played over the surface of the water.
Meanwhile where was Mr. Kirby?
After a hearty supper in the dining saloon he smoked a cigar on the
lower deck, and then began to wander about the steamer, choosing
especially the walk that ran between the outside staterooms and the
side railing.
As he stood beside the railing a stout man looking like a prosperous
merchant came out of his stateroom, and locked the door behind him.
Then he passed through the nearest passage way into the saloon.
"He looks as if he might carry something of value," thought Kirby.
"I'll venture to examine."
Waiting till the coast was clear he produced a pass key, of which
he had managed to gain possession, and inserted it in the lock of
stateroom No. 157, as we will venture to designate it.
The door opened, and Kirby entered the room.
He drew a match from his pocket, and lighting it looked swiftly and
searchingly about him.
There was a small hand-bag on the lower berth.
"I'd take the bag if I dared, but it is too large to put in my pocket,"
thought Kirby. "Perhaps I can open it."
He drew from his pocket a bunch of keys of various sizes, and tried one
after another. The fourth proved to fit.
The bag, when opened, displayed a variety of contents in which Kirby
was not interested. But one article attracted his attention. This was a
square pasteboard box with the name of Tiffany upon it.
"I'll take that at a venture," soliloquized Kirby. "Since it bears
Tiffany's name the contents must be of value. I won't stay any longer,
for it might prove dangerous."
He relocked the bag, opened the door of the stateroom, and locking it
again securely prepared to leave the spot.
He was only just in time, for the occupant of the stateroom appeared a
minute later, accompanied by a younger man.
"Yes," Kirby heard him say. "I bought a watch for my daughter from
Tiffany. I'll show it to you."
"A narrow escape!" murmured Kirby. "If he had found me in his
stateroom, there would have been no end of a disturbance. I got through
just in time."
Kirby went into the saloon, and taking out an evening paper began to
read it attentively, or rather he appeared to, but out of the corner of
his eyes he was watching for the return of the gentleman he had robbed.
He did not have long to wait. The two gentlemen came into the saloon,
and one, the elder, seemed much excited.
"I tell you, Johnson," he said, "there are thieves on board. I left
the watch in a pasteboard box in my hand bag less than half an
hour since—indeed I think it is only fifteen minutes, and it has
disappeared."
"Are you absolutely sure, Mr. Margrave?"
"Yes, for when I went to my stateroom, after coming up from the supper
room, I opened the bag and saw that the box was there."
"And now it is gone?"
"Yes, you saw that yourself."
"But I don't see how, in the short time you were absent, any one could
have got in and effected the robbery."
"Nor do I, but it was done."
"What shall you do about it?"
"Notify the officers of the boat, but I fear that won't do any good."