He found that his young companion, had made a number of acquaintances, and had become a general favorite through his frank and pleasant manners.
“I think you’ll get on, Joe,” said he. “You make friends easily.”
“I try to do it,” said Joe modestly.
“You are fast getting over your country greenness. Of course you couldn’t help having a share of it, having never lived outside of a small country village.”
“I am glad you think so, Mr. Folsom. I suppose I was very green and I haven’t got over it yet, but in six months I hope to get rid of it wholly.”
“It won’t take six months at the rate you are advancing.”
Day succeeded day and Joe was not sick at all. He carried a good appetite to every meal and entered into the pleasures of sea life with zest. He played shuffle-board on deck, guessed daily the ship’s run, was on the alert for distant sails, and managed in one way or another to while away the time cheerfully.
They had got into the Gulf of Mexico, when, one day, there was an unwonted commotion in the steerage.
A poor German had lost forty dollars, the entire capital he was carrying with him to the new country.
“Some tief has rob me,” he complained, in accents of mingled grief and anger. “He has rob me of all my gold. He has not left me one cent.”