Steve and the Steam Engine, Sara Ware Bassett [8 ebook reader txt] 📗

moral courage the New York lad had the lead of him. Certainly he was not one who shrank from confessing when he had been at fault which, Steve owned with shame, could not be said of himself.

For several days he had not thought of his automobile escapade but now once more it came to his mind, causing a cloud to chase the joyousness from his face. Alas, was he never to be free of the nagging mortification that had followed that single act? Was it always to lurk in the background and make him ashamed to confront the world squarely? Well, it was no use regretting it now. He had made his choice and he must abide by it.

Nevertheless he was not quite so spontaneously happy when he met his father at luncheon and recounted to him the happenings of the morning.

"Mr. Ackerman is taking a big chance with that boy," was Mr. Tolman's comment, when a pause came in the narrative. "I only hope he will not disappoint him. There must be a great difference between the standards of the two. However, Dick has some fine characteristics to build on—honesty and manliness. I think the fact that he showed no coward blood and was ready to stand by what he had done appealed to Ackerman. It proved that although they had not had the same opportunity in life they at least had some good stuff in common. You can't do much with a boy who isn't honest."

Stephen felt the blood beating in his cheeks.

Fortunately his father did not notice his embarrassment and as they soon were on their way to a picture show the memory that had so importunately raised its unwelcome head was banished by the stirring story of a Californian gold mine. Therefore by the time Stephen was ready to go to bed the ghost that haunted him was once more thrust into the background and he had gained his serenity. No, he was not troubled that night by dreams of his folly nor did he awaken with any remembrance of it. Instead he and his father chatted as they packed quite as pleasantly as if no specter stood between them.

"Well, son, have you enjoyed your holiday?" inquired Mr. Tolman, as they settled themselves in the great plush chairs of the parlor car and waited for the train to start.

"Yes, I've had a bully time, Dad."

"I'm glad of that," was the kind reply. "It was unlucky that my business took up so much more of my time than I had expected and that I had to leave you to amuse yourself instead of going about with you, as I had planned. It was too bad. However, if you have managed to get some fun out of your visit that is the main thing. In fact, I am not sure but that you rather enjoyed going about alone," concluded he mischievously.

Stephen smiled but did not reply. There was no denying that he had found being his own master a pleasant experience which had furnished him with a gratifying sense of freedom and belief in his own importance. What a tale he would have to tell the fellows at home! And how shocked his mother would be to hear that he had been turned loose in a great city in this unceremonious fashion! He could hear her now saying to his father:

"I don't see what you were thinking of, Henry, to let Stephen tear about all alone in a city like New York. I should have worried every instant if I had known what he was doing. Suppose anything had happened to him!"

Well, mercifully, nothing had happened,—that is, nothing worse than his falling into the hands of a detective and being almost arrested for robbery, reflected the boy with a grin.

Perhaps Mr. Tolman interpreted his thoughts for presently he observed with a smile:

"It is time you were branching out some for yourself, anyway, son. You are old enough now to be treated like a man, not like a little boy."

As he spoke he looked toward Stephen with an expression of such pride and affection that the force of it swept over the lad as it never had done before. What a bully sort his father was, he suddenly thought; and how genuinely he believed in him! Why not speak out now and clear up the wretched deception he had practiced, and start afresh with a clean conscience? With impulsive resolve he gripped the arms of the chair and pulled himself together for his confession. But just at the crucial moment there was a stir in the aisle and a porter followed by two belated passengers hurried into the train which was on the brink of departure. That they had made their connection by a very narrow margin was evident in their appearance, for both were hot and out of breath, and the stout colored porter puffed under the stress of his haste and the heavy luggage which weighed him down.

"It's these two chairs, sir," he gasped, as he tossed the new leather suit case into the rack. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No," replied the traveler, thrusting a bill into the darkey's hand. Already the train was moving. "Keep the change," he added quickly.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you!" stammered the vanishing negro.

"Well, we caught it, didn't we, Dick? It didn't look at one time as if it were possible. That block of cars on the avenue was terrible. But we are off now! It was about the closest shave I ever made." Then he turned around. "Hullo!" he cried. "Who's this? Bless my soul!"

Both Mr. Tolman and Steve joined in the laugh of amazement.

"Well, if this isn't a great note!" went on Mr. Ackerman, still beaming with surprise. "I thought you people were not going until the afternoon train."

"I managed to finish up my business yesterday and get off earlier than I planned," Mr. Tolman explained. "But I did not know you had any intention of going in this direction."

"I hadn't until this morning," laughed the financier. "Then a telegram arrived saying they could take Dick at the New Haven school to which I had written if he entered right away, at the beginning of the term. So I dropped everything and here we are en route. It was rather short notice and things were a bit hectic; but by turning the whole apartment upside down, rushing our packing, and keeping the telephone wire hot we contrived to make the train."

"It is mighty nice for us," put in Mr. Tolman cordially. "So Dick is setting forth on his education, is he?"

"Yes, he is starting out to make of himself a good scholar, a good sport, a good athlete, and I hope a good man," returned the New Yorker.

"A pretty big order, isn't it, Dick?" laughed Mr. Tolman.

"It seems so," returned the boy.

"It is not a bit too big," interrupted Mr. Ackerman. "Dick knows he hasn't got to turn the trick all in a minute. He and I understand such things take time. But they can be done and we expect we are going to do them."

He flashed one of his rare smiles toward his protégé and the lad smiled back frankly.

"I expect so, too," echoed Mr. Tolman. "You've got plenty of backers behind you, Dick, and you have a clear path ahead. That is all any boy needs."

"You're going back to school, aren't you, youngster?" Mr. Ackerman suddenly inquired of Stephen.

"Yes, sir. I start in next week."

"Decided yet whether you will be a railroad man like your Dad, or a steamboat man like me?" went on the New Yorker facetiously.

"Not yet."

"Oh, for shame! It should not take you any time at all to decide a question like that," the capitalist asserted teasingly. "What's hindering you?"

Stephen gave a mischievous chuckle.

"I can't decide until I have heard both sides," said he. "So far I know only half the steamboat story."

"I see! In other words you think that between here and New Haven I might beguile the time by going on with the yarn I began yesterday."

"That thought crossed my mind, sir,—yes."

"You should go into the diplomatic service, young man. Your talents are being wasted," observed Mr. Ackerman good-humoredly. "Well, I suppose I could romance for the benefit of you two boys for part of the way, at least. It will give your father, Steve, a chance to go into the other car and smoke. Where did we break off our story? Do you remember?"

"Where the United States said anybody had the right to sail anywhere he wanted to, in any kind of a boat he chose," piped Dick with promptness.

"Yes, yes. I recall it all now," said Mr. Ackerman. "The courts withdrew the grant giving Livingston the sole right to navigate the waters of New York State by means of steamboats. So you want to hear more about it, do you?"

"Yes!" came simultaneously from both the boys.

"Then all aboard! Tolman, you can read, or run off and enjoy your cigar. We are going on a steamboat cruise."

"Push off! You won't bother me," was the tolerant retort, as the elder man unfolded the morning paper.

Mr. Ackerman cleared his throat.

"Before this decree to give everybody an equal chance in navigating the waters of the country was handed down by the courts," he began, "various companies, in defiance of Livingston's contract, began building and running steamboats on the Hudson. Two rival boats were speedily in operation and it was only after a three years' lawsuit that they were legally condemned and handed over to Fulton to be broken up. Then the ferryboat people got busy and petitioned the New York Legislature for the right to run their boats to and fro between the New York and New Jersey sides of the river, and it is interesting to remember that it was on one of these ferry routes that Cornelius Vanderbilt, the great American financier, began his career."

"I never knew that!" ejaculated Dick, intent on the story.

"After the ruling of the Supreme Court in 1818 that all the waters of the country were free there was a rush to construct and launch steamers on the Hudson. The route was, you see, not only the most direct one between Albany and New York but it also lay in the line of travel between the eastern States and those of the west which were just being opened to traffic by the railroads and ships of the Great Lakes. Now you must not for a moment imagine that in those days there were any such vast numbers of persons traversing the country as there are now. Our early Americans worked hard and possessed only comparatively small fortunes so they had little money to throw away on travel simply for its own sake; moreover the War of 1812 had left the country poor. Nevertheless there were a good many persons who were obliged to travel, and it followed that each of the Hudson River lines of steamers was eager to secure their patronage. Hence a bitter competition arose between the rival steamboat companies."

He paused and smiled whimsically at some memory that amused him.

"Every inducement was offered the public by these battling forces. The older vessels were scrapped or reduced to tug service and finer steamboats were built; and once upon the water the engines were driven at full speed that quicker trips might lure passengers to patronize the swifter boats. Captains and firemen pitted their energies against one another and without scruple raced their ships, with the result that there were many accidents. In spite of this, however, the rivalry grew rather than diminished."

"It must have been great sport," remarked Stephen.

"Oh, there was sport in plenty," nodded Mr. Ackerman. "Had you lived during those first days of Hudson River transportation you would have seen all the sport you wanted to see, for the steamboat feud raged with fury, the several companies trying their uttermost to get the trade away from the Fulton people and from one another. Money became no object, the only aim being to win in the game. Fares were reduced from ten dollars to one, and frequently passengers were carried for nothing simply for the sheer spite of getting them away from other lines. Vanderbilt was in the thick of the fray, having now accumulated sufficient fortune to operate no less than fifty boats. Among the finest vessels were those of the Emerald Line; and the Swallow and the Rochester, two of the speediest rivals, were continually racing each other. The devices resorted to in order to ensnare passengers were very amusing: some boats carried bands; others