“Younkins!” cried Sandy, starting to his feet. “He will give us good advice. He has got a great head, has Younkins. I’ll go and ask him what to do. Bless me! There he is now!” and as he spoke, the familiar slouching figure of their neighbor came around the corner of a warehouse on the levee.
“Why don’t yer go aboard, boys? The boat leaves at noon, and it’s past twelve now. I just 212 thought I’d come down and say good-by-like, for I’m powerful sorry to have ye go.”
The boys explained to the astonished and grieved Younkins how they had been wrecked, as it were, almost in sight of the home port. The good man nodded his head gravely, as he listened, softly jingled the few gold coins in his trousers pocket, and said: “Well, boys, this is the wust scald I ever did see. If I wasn’t so dreadful hard up, I’d give ye what I’ve got.”
“That’s not to be thought of, Mr. Younkins,” said Charlie, with dignity and gratitude, “for we can’t think of borrowing money to get home with. It would be better to wait until we can write home for more. We might earn enough to pay our board.” And Charlie, with a sigh, looked around at the unsympathetic and hurrying throng.
“You’ve got baggage as security for your passage to St. Louis. Go aboard and tell the clerk how you are fixed. Your pa said as how you would be all right when you got to St. Louis. Go and ’brace’ the clerk.”
This was a new idea to the boys. They had never heard of such a thing. Who would dare to ask such a great favor? The fare from Leavenworth to St. Louis was twelve dollars each. They had known all about that. And they knew, too, that the price included their meals on the way down.
“I’ll go brace the clerk,” said Sandy, stoutly; 213 and before the others could put in a word, he was gone.
The clerk was a handsome, stylish-looking man, with a good-natured countenance that reassured the timid boy at once. Mustering up his waning courage, Sandy stated the case to him, telling him that that pile of trunks and guns on the levee was theirs, and that they would leave them on board when they got to St. Louis until they had found their uncle and secured the money for their fares.
The handsome clerk looked sharply at the lad while he was telling his story. “You’ve got an honest face, my little man. I’ll trust you. Bring aboard your baggage. People spar their way on the river every day in the year; you needn’t be ashamed of it. Accidents will happen, you know.” And the busy clerk turned away to another customer.
With a light heart Sandy ran ashore. His waiting and anxiously watching comrades saw by his face that he had been successful, before he spoke.