ON THE STEAMER.
In half an hour the _River Belle_ was on her way. Tom watched the city
as it receded from view. He enjoyed this new mode of travel better than
riding on the cars. He had never before been on any boat except a
ferry-boat, and congratulated himself on his decision to journey by boat
part of the way.
Milton Graham had passed him two or three times, but Tom, though seeing
him, had not volunteered recognition. Finding that he must make the
first advances, Graham finally stopped short, looked full at our hero,
and his face wore a very natural expression of surprise and pleasure.
"Why, Tom, is that you?" he said, offering his hand, which Tom did not
appear to see.
"Yes," said our hero coldly.
"I didn't expect to see you here."
"I told you I intended to sail on the _River Belle_."
"So you did; but I thought you had changed your mind."
It made very little difference to Tom what Mr. Graham thought, and he
turned from him to watch the scenery past which the boat was gliding.
"I suppose," continued the young man, "you were surprised to find me
gone when you came down-stairs to breakfast."
"Yes, I was."
"He resents it because I left him," thought Graham. "I guess I can bring
him around."
"The fact was," explained Graham, in a plausible manner, "I went out to
call on a friend, meaning to come back to breakfast; but he made me
breakfast with him, and when I did return you were gone. I owe you an
apology, Tom. I hope you will excuse my unintentional neglect."
"Oh, certainly," said Tom indifferently; "it's of no consequence."
Mr. Graham looked at him sharply. He could not tell whether our hero
was aware of his dishonest intentions or not, but as Tom must still have
money, which he wanted to secure, he thought it best to ignore his
coldness.
"No," said he; "it's of no consequence as long as we have come together
again. By the way, have you secured a stateroom?"
"Yes."
"If the other berth is not taken, I should like very much to go in with
you," said Graham insinuatingly.
"I have a roommate," said Tom coolly.
"You have? Who is it?" demanded Graham, disappointed.
"That gentleman," answered Tom, pointing out Mr. Nicholas Waterbury.
"Humph! do you know him?"
"I met him at the Pittsburg House."
"My young friend," said Graham, with the air of a friendly mentor, "I
want to give you a piece of advice."
"Very well."
"Don't be too ready to trust strangers. This Mr. Waterbury may be a very
good man, but, on the other hand, he may be a confidence man. Do you
understand me?"
"I think so."
"Now, I suppose you have money?"
"A little."
"Take care that he doesn't get possession of it. There are men who go
about expressly to fleece inexperienced strangers."
"I suppose you know all about that," Tom could not help saying.
"What do you mean?" demanded Graham suspiciously.
"You are an old traveler, and must know all about the sharpers."
"Oh, to be sure," said Graham, immediately dismissing his suspicions.
"You couldn't leave your companion, could you, and come into my
stateroom?"
"I don't think I could."
"Oh, very well. It's of no consequence. Keep a good lookout for your
roommate."
Graham turned away, and resumed his walk. Soon Tom saw him in company
with the dark young man, to whom reference has already been made.
"Well," said the latter, "how did you make out with the boy?"
"He's offish. I don't know as he suspects me. I wanted to get him into
my stateroom, but he has already taken up with another man--that stout
party over there."
"So I suspected. I can tell you something about that man."
"What?"
"He carries six hundred dollars about him."
"You don't say so! How did you find out?"
"I overheard him telling the boy so."
"That's important news. The boy must have a couple of hundred, or
thereabouts, as he is on his way to California."
"Eight hundred dollars together! That would make a good haul."
"So it would, but it won't be easy to get it."
While this conversation was going on Tom informed Mr. Waterbury of what
had passed between Graham and himself.
"So he warned you against me, did he?" said Mr. Waterbury laughingly.
"Yes, he thought I would be safer in his company."
"If you want to exchange, I will retire," said Mr. Waterbury, smiling.
"Thank you; I would rather not. I am glad I met you, or he might have
managed to get in with me."
It was not long before they came to a landing. It was a small river
village, whose neat white houses, with here and there one of greater
pretensions, presented an attractive appearance. A lady and her daughter
came on board here. The lady was dressed in black, and appeared to be a
widow. The girl was perhaps fourteen years of age, with a bright,
attractive face. Two trunks were put on the boat with them, and as they
were the only passengers from this landing, Tom inferred that they were
their property.
"That's quite a pretty girl," said Mr. Waterbury.
"Yes," answered Tom.
"You ought to get acquainted with her," said Mr. Waterbury jocosely.
"Perhaps," said Tom shyly, "you will get acquainted with them, and then
you can introduce me."
"You are quite sharp," said Mr. Waterbury, laughing. "However, your
hint is a good one. I may act upon it."
It happened, however, that Tom required no introduction. As the lady and
her daughter walked across the deck, to occupy some desirable seats on
the other side, the former dropped a kid glove, which Tom, espying,
hastened forward and, picking up, politely tendered to the owner.
"You are very kind," said the lady, in a pleasant voice. "I am much
obliged."
"Mama is quite in the habit of dropping her gloves," said the young
girl, with a smiling glance at Tom. "I really think she does it on
purpose."
"Then, perhaps, I had better keep near-by to pick them up," said Tom.
"Really, Jennie," said her mother, "you are giving the young gentleman a
strange impression of me."
"Well, mama, you know you dropped your gloves in the street the last
time you were in Pittsburg, but there was no gentleman to pick them up,
so I had to. Are you going to Cincinnati?" she asked, turning to Tom.
"Yes, and farther; I am going to California," replied Tom.
"Dear me, you will be quite a traveler. I wish I were going to
California."
"You wouldn't like to go there on the same business that I am."
"What is that?"
"I am going to dig gold."
"I don't know. I suppose it isn't girl's work; but if I saw any gold
about, I should like to dig for it. Is that your father that was
standing by you?"
"No," answered Tom. "I never met him till yesterday. We were staying at
the same hotel in Pittsburg."
"He seems like quite a nice old gentleman."
Mr. Waterbury was not over fifty, but to the young girl he seemed an old
gentleman.
"I find him very pleasant."
There was a seat next to Jennie, and Tom ventured to occupy it.
"What is your name?" asked the young lady sociably.
"Thomas Nelson, but most people call me Tom."
"My name is Jane Watson, but everybody calls me Jennie."
"That is much prettier than Jane."
"So I think. Jane seems old-maidish, don't you think so?"
"Are you afraid of becoming an old maid?" asked Tom, smiling.
"Awfully. I wouldn't be an old maid for anything. My school-teacher is
an old maid. She's horribly prim. She won't let us laugh, or talk, or
anything."
"I don't think you'll grow up like that."
"I hope not."
"How you run on, Jennie!" said her mother. "What will this young
gentleman think of you?"
"Nothing very bad, I hope," said Jennie, smiling archly on Tom. "I
suppose," she continued, addressing him, "I ought to be very quiet and
reserved, as you are a stranger."
"I hope you won't be," said Tom heartily.
"Then I won't. Somehow you don't seem like a stranger. You look a good
deal like a cousin of mine. I suppose that is the reason."
So they chatted on for an hour or more. Jennie was very vivacious,
occasionally droll, and Tom enjoyed her company. The mother saw that our
hero was well-behaved and gentlemanly, and made no objection to the
sudden intimacy.