"Yes, sir," replied poor Rob, who, longing for sympathy in this moment of distress, was moved by the kindly face of the stranger to unburden his heart of its load of trouble. "It is about as bad as it can be, for my father is dying in China, and my only chance of seeing him alive lay in catching the Oriental, which sails from Tacoma to-morrow evening. Now I have lost her, and there won't be another steamer of that line for nearly a month. Besides, my baggage is on the train just gone; and my pocket-book, with my tickets and all my money, has gone with it, locked up in my suit-case."
"That does seem a rather serious situation," said Captain Astley, gravely, "but perhaps it won't prove irremediable, after all. I've noticed that things looking the darkest at first view often brighten upon closer inspection. Suppose we sit down for a minute and see what light can be thrown into this darkness."
When Rob had accepted this friendly invitation, and the two had seated themselves on a near-by baggage-truck, the elder man continued: "To begin with, let us know each other. I am John Astley, Captain of Artillery, U.S.A., and stationed at Vancouver Barracks, to which place I must proceed by to-morrow morning's train. I wanted to go on to-day, but, unexpectedly, was detained at the last moment, and came to the station to hold over my luggage. I must confess that I was much annoyed at this detention, but if it affords me an opportunity of helping you out of your trouble I shall not regret it."
"Thank you, sir," replied the lad. "My name is Rob Hinckley. I am the son of a medical missionary, stationed at Wu Hsing, on the Si Kiang, in China, where I was born; but I have lived for the past fourteen years, and gone to school, in New England. I have passed my preliminaries for Yale, and should have entered next fall if the news of my father's serious illness, and his great desire to see me before he died, had not altered all my plans. Now, by my own carelessness in walking too far, while the train waited here, I not only have lost it, but probably have lost my only chance of ever seeing him again."
"Isn't there a steamer of some other line—the Empress from Vancouver, the Yusen Kaisha from Seattle, or the Pacific Mail from San Francisco—that you can take within a few days?" suggested Captain Astley.
"There is one from San Francisco in about a week, but, you see, my fare is paid through to Nagasaki by the Tacoma line, and I'm afraid I haven't money enough to buy another ticket. Besides, I should have fare from Tacoma to San Francisco to pay, and hotel bills. Then, too, my pocket-book, with money, tickets, and everything, has gone off on that train. I thought I'd be extra careful, and so locked it up in my suit-case before starting out to walk."
"I hope you still have the key," said Captain Astley, seriously, but with a twinkle in his gray eyes.
"Yes, sir; I've got that. I don't see, though, how it is going to do me much good, seeing that I haven't money enough to take me even to Tacoma. There's another thing I've just thought of. My trunk is checked through to Nagasaki by the Oriental; and as my suit-case has the same name on it, probably some one will be kind enough to put it on board the steamer. So there isn't much chance that I shall ever see it again."
"Oh, I guess there is, provided the telegraph still is in order, and I know it was working a few minutes ago."
"I haven't even money enough to pay for a telegram," objected Rob.