"O yes, they have!" returned Mr. Newcombe. "I have often heard the principal say that a vessel of some description, that could be handled by the students, would be of great service to him. You know that some of the scholars are studying navigation, and I thought they could make better use of her than you could."
"But, father, did you mean what you said, when you told me that you would take care that I didn't get any ten-dollar bills very soon?" asked Tom, in a gloomy voice.
"Certainly I did. You have convinced me that you do not know how to use money, so I have decided that the best thing I can do is to put your wages in the bank. They will be safe there!"
This was all that was said on the subject at that time. Tom did not remonstrate with his father, because he knew that it would be entirely useless. For the same reason Mr. Newcombe did not take Tom to task for what he had done or offer him any advice. All the talking he could have done, would not have convinced Tom that he had acted foolishly or that, as often as he built his hopes upon such schemes, he was doomed to be disappointed.
CHAPTER XIV.
BOB MAKES A DISCOVERY.
Tom, we repeat, did not try to induce his father to reconsider the decision he had made in regard to the Storm King, and the manner in which his son's wages ought to be disposed of, for he knew that all the promises he could make, and all the arguments he could bring to bear upon him, would have no effect. The yacht was lost to him, and that was a settled fact. He regretted it exceedingly, but still he was not so much troubled about that, as by the thought that he could no longer use his money as he pleased. This was like the law against going outside the gate after dark—unreasonable and unjust; and was made simply because his father "didn't want him to enjoy himself if he could help it." He had fully made up his mind to save his next two weeks' wages to send for the "lucky package," and he was certain that his second trial of the lottery scheme would prove successful. The reason it had failed before was, because some dishonest post-office clerk had stolen the letter that contained his ten dollars; but now he would be on the safe side, for he would send his money by express. When his prize arrived (he would send all his own money this time, so that, when the five thousand dollars came, he would not be obliged to divide it with any one), it had been his intention to order Mr. Graves to build another yacht for him, that would be as far superior to the Storm King, in point of speed and finish, as she was better than Bob Jennings's old scow. But he could no longer indulge in these glorious anticipations. His splendid scheme had at last received its death-wound, and, worse than all, there was not a single boy in the village who sympathized with him. Even the fisher-boy had called him a Jonah, and refused to have any thing more to do with him. However, Tom was not willing to let the matter drop there. If Colonel Steele, and the rest of the academy fellows, supposed that he would permit them to enjoy their new vessel, they were destined to be sadly disappointed. If he did not own and sail that yacht, no one about that village should. He had said it more than once, and he was in earnest; and his father, and every body else in Newport, would very soon find out that his desires and claims were not to be set aside with impunity. Tom did not then make up his mind what he would do; but when he stood in the door of his father's office, about four o'clock that afternoon, and saw the Storm King sail majestically out of the harbor, manned by a crew from the academy—and her new captain sprung upon the rail and proposed three cheers for Mr. Newcombe—the scene acted like a spur upon his flagging ideas, and in an instant his resolve was taken. He waited until the yacht had rounded the pier and shaped her course down the bay, and then he sauntered out on the wharf, where the fisher-boy was at work at his wood-pile.
"Bob Jennings," said he, "do you still believe me to be a Jonah?"