If the short trips of our boat had done nothing else, they had hurried up the Lake Shore Railroad; for, when we reached Centreport, the train had arrived, and the boat for Hitaca had started. Doubtless Major Toppleton and his son continued to be perfectly happy, and believed that they had achieved a decisive and final victory. For the present they had; but it was our next move. As I had nearly three hours to spare, and as Waddie did not appear on board, I went home for an hour, taking the steamer’s jolly-boat, with two deck-hands, to pull me across the lake.
I landed at the steps near the steamboat wharf, and had hardly ascended to the pier when I had the fortune or the misfortune to confront Tommy Toppleton. In the enjoyment of his great victory, he had come down to witness the arrival of the Ucayga, ten or fifteen minutes after the departure of the Hitaca boat. He looked quite as pleasant as when I had met him down the lake, a couple of hours before.
“How are you again, Wolf?” said he, halting before me on the wharf.
“First-rate,” I replied. “I hope you are.”
“Yes, all but my leg, and that is doing very well. I only limp a little now. You are not on time to-day, Wolf.”
“Why, yes; I thought I was. The Ucayga was at her wharf at eleven-twenty-five. That was on time, and a little ahead of it.”
“But you were not in season for your passengers to go up to Hitaca in the boat which has just gone.”
“No, I was not; but then, you see, we had no passengers for Hitaca. We did not insure any one a connection at Centreport to-day, and so none came by our boat. I did so on Saturday, because your train was ten or fifteen minutes behind time.”
“Well, that won’t happen again,” added Tommy confidently.
“You haven’t fallen out with Lewis Holgate—have you?” I inquired.