At length all was in readiness, the last lingering good-byes were spoken, and the boy was fairly launched on his travels. All his young friends, and apparently half the town besides, were assembled at the station to see him set forth. His trunk was checked, he carried an overcoat on his arm, in his hands were a stout travelling-bag, and in a canvas case the beautiful Winchester that had been his father’s last birthday gift.
There was a grand shout of farewell from the fellows as the train finally moved out from the station, and Phil answered it with a wave of his hat from the rear platform of the last car. Then, going inside, he sat down to reflect upon his glorious prospects, that seemed to stretch away in a limitless haze of exciting adventure and daring exploit. If he could have had but one real glimpse of the varied hardships and bitter experiences held by the immediate future, I am afraid he would have shrunk from them as did the poor little bear who found himself alone in the world with all his troubles before him. Fortunately for our hero’s peace of mind, his vision was just as limited as is that of every one of us, who can have no possible inkling of what each coming day may bring forth.
[CHAPTER III]
AN UNDESIRABLE ACQUAINTANCE
According to the plan laid out by Mr. Ryder, Phil was to make his long journey across the continent by the Canadian Pacific Railway, which not only offers the most direct route to Victoria and a connection with the Alaska steamers, but passes through some of the grandest and most interesting scenery in America. Mr. Ryder’s letter contained explicit instructions concerning each step of the journey, and Phil had read these over so often that he knew them by heart. It had also contained a bank check for $200, which formed an ample allowance for the proposed trip. In regard to this Mr. Ryder had written: “Above all, my boy, take care of your money, and never display it before strangers. You know we are not wealthy people, and though the sum enclosed is not a large one, its loss and replacement would cause me a real inconvenience.”
“Of course I will take care of it,” said Phil, when he and his aunt Ruth read this paragraph over together, and she added her caution to that of his father. “I may lose some other and less-important things now and then, but money is something I’m likely to keep a pretty solid grip on, and I’d like to meet the man who’d dare try and take it from me.”
Here the sturdy young fellow glared about him as fiercely as though the room were filled with robbers, with whom he should take the greatest pleasure in trying conclusions.
In New London, Phil’s ticket could only be procured as far as Montreal, at which place he was to purchase another that would take him to Victoria, check his trunk to the same destination, and engage his sleeping-car berth as far as Vancouver. This latter city is the western terminus of the Canadian Pacific, is situated on the mainland bordering Puget Sound, and is seventy miles by water from Victoria, which is on the island of Vancouver.
Before leaving home, Phil’s money, in the shape of bank-bills, was placed in the new alligator-skin pocket-book which was Aunt Ruth’s parting gift, and thrust carefully into the young traveller’s inside vest pocket. There, in spite of his remonstrances, his aunt fastened it securely with two stout safety-pins.