That was the reason why Uncle John had not suggested to George, that it would be a good plan for him to go back to school, because there were vacations; and because he knew that during those vacations, George would be very likely to run down to Texas to see how things were going there. It was Uncle John's desire to see the boy settled in some business, that would occupy every moment of his time.
"It is a dangerous calling, but a very honorable as well as a useful one," added Uncle John. "We couldn't get along without pilots, you know."
"I heard George say, that he would be willing to give fifty dollars a month to learn the business," said Ned.
"Very well. If he has made his decision, the want of money shall not stand in his way. Could you describe the pilot to me, so that I could recognise him?"
"Do you know that tall, dark man, with long black whiskers that come clear down to his waist, and who always dresses in light clothes?"
"I believe I have seen him," said Uncle John, in reply.
This was all the conversation that passed between Ned and his father on this subject, but it was enough to enable the boy to understand, that Uncle John had marked out a course of action for himself. And so he had. He scraped an acquaintance with Mr. Black before he went to dinner, told him of the relationship that existed between himself and the boy who had spent the morning in the pilot-house, and had a long talk with him about river men and the dangers of the life they led. He told him, too, that he (Uncle John) was a very wealthy man, and quite willing to indorse any arrangements his nephew might be able to make with Mr. Black. This, of course, increased the pilot's interest in George, and an incident happened that very afternoon that increased it still more.
Contrary to his usual custom, George ate his dinner in great haste that day. He had already become infatuated with life in the pilot-house, and he was eager to see more of it. As he ran up the steps that led to the hurricane deck, his eye chanced to fall upon something that lay close to the cabin skylights, and under the shelter of the projecting roof, where it must have rolled when it dropped from its owner's pocket. It was a large, black pocket-book, and if there was any faith to be put in appearances, it was well filled. George picked it up, turned it over in his hands, and looked all around the deck to see if there was any body in sight. As he did so, a rather flashily-dressed young man, who had been standing near the bell, hurried up to him with a great show of eagerness. He was one of the passengers, and George had often bestowed more than a passing glance upon him, for the reason that he had seen him drinking at the bar, and playing cards in the cabin for money.
"I am very much obliged to you," said he, as he held out his hand. "I couldn't imagine where I had dropped it, and I thought I was ruined."
If the young man had hoped to surprise George into promptly surrendering the article he had found, he was doomed to be disappointed. It is true that the boy was from the country, and that he had never had anything to do with city sharpers; but he was pretty smart, for all that, and his quick wit served him in the place of experience.