It soon became clear to Terry that he must fight his own battles—that, as Mr. Drummond had said, he must make his own way—and it was with many misgivings as to the result that he set himself to the undertaking.
CHAPTER IV.
PERILS BY THE WAY.
By the end of his first month of service Terry had become somewhat accustomed to the novelties of his position, and bid fair to prove a useful acquisition to the staff. His intimate knowledge of the business portion of the city stood him in good stead. He knew every wharf in Halifax, and more than half the vessels that tied up at them, and could always be counted upon to find any one of them that the office wanted to communicate with.
There were many times when, being on some commission of this kind, he was sharply tempted to indulge in a little dalliance with his old playmates, who were more eager for his company than ever now that they were deprived of it. On a hot summer day, after a long forenoon of tiresome tramping through the dusty streets delivering bills or getting replies to inquiries, the longing to take a plunge into the cool green water of the dock was very hard to resist. At such times his fine clothes were apt to feel like fetters, which it would be an inexpressible relief to cast off and return to his former tatters.
Again and again he succeeded in withstanding the temptation; but one sultry, oppressive afternoon in August proved too much for him, and he yielded, though could he only have foreseen the consequences he would surely have held firm.
He had been sent out to collect wharfage accounts. They were usually trifling as to amount, and the method was for the clerk paying the bill to mark it down in a small book Terry carried as well as to take a receipt, thus making a double record.
This fateful afternoon it happened that Terry's collections reached a larger amount than usual, totalling up nearly fifty dollars. He finished his round away up at West's Wharf, and feeling very hot and tired went down to have a look at the cool salt water. He found there a half-dozen boys, nearly all of whom he knew, just getting ready for a hilarious swim in the dock. They hailed him at once with pressing requests to join them.
"Come along, Terry; off with your duds. It's a great day for a duck," and so forth, growing more and more urgent as they perceived him to waver in his resolution of refusal. Finally, a couple of them, having got rid of their own garments, rushed upon him, and seizing him on either side, proceeded to pull off his hat and coat, and to unbutton his vest; while the others, with loud shouts of, "Here she goes! Who's last?" dived joyously into the seductive depths.