"So much for that! I was half afraid I'd catch it," he said to himself. "My word, isn't it hot!"
Tom was only eighteen, but he had already had disappointments enough, he thought, to last him a lifetime. Ever since he could remember, he had set his heart on being a soldier like his uncle Jack; but the sudden death of his father, a quiet country parson, had left him with only a few hundreds for his whole capital, and he had perforce to give up all ideas of going to Sandhurst. At this critical moment an opening offered itself in the works of an engineering firm on the Clyde, the head of which was an old school chum of his uncle's. It was Hobson's choice. He went to Glasgow, and there for a few months felt utterly forlorn and miserable. Then he pulled himself together, and began to take an interest even in the grimy work of the fitting-shop. He worked well, went through various departments, and was gaining experience in the draughtsman's office when he read one day in the paper that his uncle was appointed to the command of a punitive expedition in the Uganda Protectorate. The news revived his old yearnings; after one restless night he drew out enough to pay his passage and buy an outfit, and booked himself on the first P. and O. steamer for Suez.
Among his fellow-passengers the only one with whom he had much to do was a plump German trader, who joined at Gibraltar from a Hamburg liner. He amused Tom with his outbursts of patriotic fervour, alternating with periods of devotion to the interests of his firm. At one moment he was soaring aloft with the German eagle; at the next he was quoting his best price for pig-iron. Tom found him useful to practise his German on. He had always had a turn for languages; indeed, his only distinctions at school, besides his being the best bat in the eleven and a safe man in goal, were won in German and French. Naturally, he soon scraped acquaintance also with the chief engineer, and the pleasantest hours of the voyage out were those he spent in the engine-room, where he showed an unusually intelligent interest in the details of the machinery. He changed ship at Suez, and was heartily glad when, on awaking one morning, he caught sight of the white houses of Mombasa gleaming amid the dark-green bush.
The first thing he did on landing was to enquire the whereabouts of the expedition. He learned that it was fitting out at Kisumu, six hundred miles inland, on the shore of the Victoria Nyanza, and that he could reach the terminus at Port Florence by railway in two days. There being no train till next morning, he swallowed his impatience and roamed about the town. Amid the usual signs of Arab ruin and neglect he saw evidences of a new life and activity. He could not but admire the splendid harbour, in which a couple of British cruisers were lying at anchor; he climbed up to the old dismantled Portuguese fort, and examined every nook and cranny of it; he strolled about through the narrow, twisted streets, finding much to interest him at every step--grave Arab booth-keepers, sleek and wily Persians, lank Indian coolies, and negroes of every race and size in every variety of undress.
He put up for the night at the Grand Hotel. At dinner he was faced by an elderly gentleman with ruddy cheeks, side whiskers, and a shiny pate, who gave him a casual glance, but, with the Englishman's usual taciturnity, for some time said nothing. When, however, he had comfortably settled his soup, the old gentleman held his glass of claret to the light, looked at Tom over the rims of his spectacles, and said:
"Just out, sir?"
"Yes; I landed this morning."
"H'm! Government appointment, sir?"
"Well no, not exactly. The fact is, I've come out to see my uncle."
"H'm! Many boys do; hard up, I suppose," said the old gentleman under his breath. "Name, sir?"