"I sha'n't see him ever again in the world," he wailed, "an' he is the only feller that cares anything about me."
Then he ran to the little hole which had served Tip as a state-room, and there gave vent to his sorrow in passionate weeping.
When Tim had so far recovered from his grief as to present himself for work again, Minchin's Island was far astern, and the voyage drawing rapidly to an end.
Those who were friendly to the boy thought the wisest and kindest course to pursue was to say nothing about poor Tip, and as those who were not friendly did not speak of him, Tim got on without giving way to his grief in public. Captain Pratt seemed to have forgotten his threat of punishing Tim for venturing on the upper deck, or he may have thought best to wait until the end of the trip, for he said nothing to the boy, which was far more kind than he had any idea of being.
At the different landings Tim did not have curiosity enough to look at the towns, but worked as hard as he could, in order to prevent thinking about poor Tip. Captain Pratt summoned him to the wheel-house several times, and whenever he went there he felt certain he was to receive the promised whipping; but he was mistaken, for after ordering him to do some trifling work, the Captain paid no attention to him.
At about six o'clock on the afternoon of that day the steamer was made fast to the wharf at Bedlow, and the trip was ended.
After the work of cleaning the cabin was done, Mr. Rankin said, "You can go ashore and see the town if you want to; but be back by nine o'clock."
Tim shook his head; he had no desire to see anything new, since Tip was not there to enjoy the sights with him, and he crept off to his dirty berth in the forecastle, where he cried himself to sleep.
On the next morning he succeeded in supplying the Captain's wants at the table as quickly as that gentleman thought proper, and yet no mention was made of the events of the previous day.
The steamer was to leave Bedlow on her return trip at noon, and Tim took no interest in the bustle and excitement on the wharf, save that each succeeding moment was one less in the time that must elapse before he saw Tip again.