“And you say that this uncle of yours is dead now?” inquired Mr. Strapp.
“Yes, sir,” replied Vic. “He died right after he got the camels. It seems he had told Bill just what to do before he died. It was to take them East, as there wasn’t any market for camels on the Coast. Maybe there isn’t any here—I don’t know, and Bill didn’t know. He wrote me, though, that he had raised enough money to pay for the transportation of the camels to Wardham. He wrote, too, that a few miles from there a distant relative of his, named Wright, had a farm. His idea was to stake the camels there until he could look around and take his time finding a good place to keep them.”
“Has he got there with the camels yet?” asked Randy.
“I think he has. I was to join him there, but I had a row getting away from Mr. Dorsett at Home Farm. He said that my uncle owed him some money for my education. Humph! I never got any at that dead old place. I had no money and Wardham was a long way off. So I tramped it to Boston after I found that Frank Durham was here.
“You see, Frank Durham is mighty smart. I know he feels friendly towards me and I was going to ask him to stake me to go down and join Bill Purvis. Then I wanted Mr. Durham to help me sell the camels. Then I was going to buy into your show here—see?”
The earnestness of the speaker made Mr. Strapp smile. Then, too, a pleased expression crossed his bronzed face. The ex-ranchman was fond of boys and the sincerity of Vic appealed to his rugged nature.
“See here, Vic,” he said, “you tell a clear story and I can see you are straight. Besides that, we owe you a lot for this fire business down at the Standard. We can’t do too much for you. I think Durham and the professor will be here to-night; but they may possibly be detained in New York City over to-morrow. So, if you are at all anxious to go to Wardham and see about your camels, you can draw what money you want from me.”
“Why, thank you, sir,” replied Vic; “but I think I’ll wait. You see, I’ve sort of set my mind on seeing Frank Durham and getting his advice. You’re all the finest people I ever ran across; but I know him best. If you’ll take my note against those camels for a dollar or so till I see Mr. Durham, I’ll be obliged to you. I’ll have to hunt up somewhere to sleep to-night, you know, for I’d muss up these nice clothes bunking in at the old garage, even if there’s any place there left to sleep in.”
“Well, you are an original and no mistake!” cried the ex-ranchman, with a laugh. “No, no, my young friend—you can have a hundred dollars if you want it and free gratis for nothing; but we’ll not let a fellow with a ten thousand dollar quartet of camels go bunking around hit or miss. You’ll stay right here with the rest of us. And if I don’t miss my guess Durham will find a place to work you into at the Standard.”
Mr. Strapp proceeded to lay down the law, as he called it, in his pleasant way. Vic was to stay at the hotel. He suggested to Pep that he take the boy in tow and show him something of the town.