“Passengers by the railroad for Hitaca—fare only one dollar,” added the major.
“We’ll try this boat once,” said a gentleman in the crowd.
By this time the trains were moving off, and the travelers had chosen by which route they would go up the lake. I ran up the ladder to the wheel-house.
“All aboard, and all ashore!” screamed Van Wolter, as I gave him the word.
The planks were hauled in while the major and his runners were vainly striving to influence the passengers to leave the boat. We had them, and we kept them. Most of them were attracted by the pleasant aspect of the Ucayga, and desired to see more of her. Many had doubtless heard of her, and were anxious to give her a trial. We backed out from the wharf, and were soon on our way up the lake. The people on board were not a little disturbed by the insinuations of Major Toppleton; for, coming from him, they seemed to mean more than if uttered by the runners. I assured them that we should perform to the letter all we had promised. I explained the new plan to some of the regular travelers, and the advantages of the new line were so obvious that many of them volunteered to patronize the line in future. We were on time, and when the Ucayga arrived at Centreport, the old boat had been gone about ten minutes. We saw her less than two miles distant. Judging from the number of passengers on board of the ferry-boat, she had a very small freight. Our case would argue itself with the traveling public, for no one could be so stupid as to prefer the old line, with a change from boat to cars, and from cars to boat again, and requiring three-quarters of an hour longer time to make the passage.
At Centreport Waddie appeared with a thousand small handbills, for which I had provided the copy. He brought his valise with him, and I saw that he intended to be a passenger. He was of course very anxious to see the working of the new arrangement. Van Wolter hurried the freight ashore, and in five minutes we were ready to continue our voyage. We were now just fifteen minutes behind the old boat, which we were to beat by forty-five minutes during the trip.
Waddie had taken pains to circulate the information that the Ucayga would go up the lake to Hitaca at half-past five, and our crowd of passengers was considerably increased by those who had chosen to wait. The number on board was entirely satisfactory, and her present trip would be a profitable one to her owner. Waddie rubbed his hands with delight when he saw how successful we had been in obtaining through passengers, even before the new arrangement had been advertised; but the steamer was so very attractive in her appearance that travelers could not hesitate long in choosing her.
“You have a big crowd on board, Wolf,” said Waddie, after the boat started.
“We have been remarkably fortunate,” I replied.
“You have done a big thing for us, captain; and the best thing I ever did was to make peace with you.”