Tony did not look much like the dashing young fellow who had clambered over the Princeton's rail a few days before. His face, to quote from the doctor, was getting no better very fast; the cheap stuff of which his clothes was made, already began to show large spots of dirt and numerous signs of wear; his hands looked as though they had never been washed; and his hair wouldn't stay anywhere. No shipmaster would care to employ such a miserable looking object as he was to wait upon him at the table.
"Getting to New Orleans is the hardest part of the undertaking," said Tony, when he and the doctor were safe ashore. "If I can only reach that city, I shall be all right. Good-by, you miserable old tub," he added, shaking his fist at the schooner. "I only wish I were a man so that I could take satisfaction out of that mate. Now, doctor, I am going to leave you. Good-by!"
"Dat won't do," said the darkey, hastily. "We mustn't be friendly enough to shake hands, kase if anybody should see us, dat would fotch Mr. Sands into trouble."
"Then you take the baskets," said Tony, who had one on each arm, which the captain expected him to bring back filled with fresh vegetables.
"No, sir. I'll turn my back, an' you jes' luff 'em down an' cl'ar yourself. Dat's de bes' way. Say, boy," added the darkey, directing Tony's attention to a large steamer that lay at a pier a short distance further up the bay. "You see dat boat? Dat's de City of Baltimore. She runs between dat port an' New Orleans every three weeks. We's been in New Orleans nigh onto four weeks, an' she's never been dar, so she mus' be goin' dar now."
"I wonder if I could get a berth on her?" exclaimed Tony.
"Dunno nuffin' 'bout dat; but I'll tell you dis for a fac': Don't you luff dat boat go to New Orleans widout you. You hears me, I reckon. Hello! what's dat?"
Mr. Sands suddenly became very deeply interested in something that he thought he saw going on over toward Moro Castle, and Tony taking the hint, deposited his baskets on the ground behind him and hurried away. He quickly placed a building between himself and the cook, and looking around the corner of it saw that the latter had not yet changed his position. When he thought he had given the boy plenty of time to get out of sight, he faced about, looked all around him, and shaking his head as if he were completely mystified, picked up the baskets that Tony had dropped, and walked rapidly down the street.
"He's a good-hearted fellow," said Tony, who felt some regret at parting with his sable friend, "and he was the only one who showed me any kindness while I was on board the schooner. I hope he won't get into trouble by going back without me. Now, if I only had my money in my pocket, it would be very easy for me to reach home; and if I ever get there again I'll stay. Home is the best place, after all, and it is a great pity I couldn't see it when I was there. The old saying: 'Experience is a hard school, and none but fools learn therein,' applies to me very strongly. It takes the hard knocks to put sense into the heads of some fellows—" here he raised his hand to his face—"and if I haven't got a little now, I never shall have any."
As Tony drew nearer to the steamer, he saw that there was a goodly number of gaily-dressed passengers on her deck watching what was passing on the wharf. He had seen the time when he had mingled freely with just such a company on board his father's steamers; but if he should venture among these people in his present plight, how long would it be, he asked himself, before somebody would take him by the collar and assist him back to the pier? His place now was on deck and among the men, and there he was perfectly willing to go.