“Didn’t I hear you and the colonel saying something about another boat like this one?”
“Yes; the colonel intends to build another—to be called the Hitaca—at once.”
“I suppose it is too soon to say anything yet; but I want the command of that boat when she is built,” continued Van Wolter anxiously.
“I was thinking of that very thing myself; and, if you are always as faithful as you have been to-day, I think you will deserve it. I shall mention the matter to the colonel and Waddie as soon as I get a chance.”
“Thank you; thank you, captain. That’s very handsome of you; and you shall never have any cause to complain of me,” he replied warmly.
“Of course, I can’t promise anything; but I will do what I can, if everything is right,” I answered.
We discussed the former management of the boat, and I explained to him my plans for the future. We were in perfect accord, and I was glad that I had so soon removed all grounds for jealousy, and all tendencies to pull in the opposite direction, on the part of my subordinate. We were approaching Centreport. The train on the railroad, now ten minutes behind time, was coming into Middleport, on the other side of the lake. At twenty-five minutes past five we were fast to the wharf. The boat going up the lake had not yet left the pier. To my surprise, I found we had quite a number of up-lake passengers, who had taken the word of our runners that we should be in time for the boat at Centreport. We had kept the promise, but it would not always be safe to make it.
We arrived in season to enable Colonel Wimpleton to send for his satchel, and when the steamer for Hitaca touched the wharf he went on board. He was determined not to lose a day or an hour in laying down the keel of the new steamer, and he was going up the lake to make his contracts for this purpose. The boat started on her trip, and my work for the day was finished. Everybody on board was in remarkably good spirits. For the first time, really, the steamer had beaten the Lightning Express; and we intended to “keep doing it” as long as the achievement was possible. I gave the boat into the keeping of Van Wolter, and went on shore. My father could not leave until he had put the engine in order. As everybody’s wages had been raised, there was no danger of a conspiracy against the new order of things.
Not until the excitement of the afternoon’s stirring work had subsided did it occur to me that I was engaged to go up the lake on Monday with a party in the Belle. Of course it would be impossible for me to keep my engagement to the letter, though I intended to do so in spirit. The long-desired opportunity of doing something for Tom Walton now presented itself. My friend was a thorough and competent boatman, fully my equal, if not my superior. His mother was poor and in ill-health, so that she depended mainly upon him for her support. He was, in my estimation, a splendid fellow; and his devotion to his mother, and his constant self-sacrifice for her sake, won my regard and admiration. I had long desired to give him a situation worthy his abilities and character.
Embarking in the Belle, I crossed the lake. After mooring the boat, I went directly to the house of Tom’s mother, and was fortunate enough to find my friend at home. He lived in one of the smallest and meanest dwellings in Middleport. I was determined to do a good thing for him, and I thought, after the boat season was finished, I ought to have influence enough, as the commander of the Ucayga, to procure him a first-rate situation for the winter. He came out of the house, and before I had time to open my business with him, the Toppleton Battalion, which was out for drill, came round the corner, and we suspended our conversation to see the parade.