Stephen strolled over to the mantelpiece and stood before the model of the quaint side-wheeler that had held his attention at the time of his first visit; then he stole a furtive glance at the man in the big chair.
"Did you really mean, Mr. Ackerman," he faltered, "that we could ask you questions?"
"Certainly."
"Then I wish you'd tell me about this queer little old-fashioned boat, and how you happened to put it between this up-to-date ocean liner and this battleship."
The elder man looked up.
"That boat that interests you is a model of Fulton's steamboat—or at least as near a model as I could get," explained he. "I put it there to show the progress we have made in shipbuilding since that day."
Steve laughed.
"I see the progress all right," replied he, "but I am afraid I do not know much about Fulton and his side-wheeler."
Mr. Ackerman let the paper slip into his lap.
"I assumed every boy who went to school learned about Robert Fulton," answered he, half teasingly and yet with real surprise.