A Jolly Fellowship
CHAPTER I.
WE MAKE A START.
I was sitting on the deck of a Savannah steam-ship, which was lying at adock in the East River, New York. I was waiting for young Rectus, andhad already waited some time; which surprised me, because Rectus was, asa general thing, a very prompt fellow, who seldom kept people waiting.But it was probably impossible for him to regulate his own movementsthis time, for his father and mother were coming with him, to see himoff.
I had no one there to see me off, but I did not care for that. I wassixteen years old, and felt quite like a man; whereas Rectus was onlyfourteen, and couldn't possibly feel like a man--unless his looks verymuch belied his feelings. My father and mother and sister lived in asmall town some thirty miles from New York, and that was a very goodreason for their not coming to the city just to see me sail away in asteam-ship. They took a good leave of me, though, before I left home.
I shall never forget how I first became acquainted with Rectus. About acouple of years before, he was a new boy in the academy at Willisville.One Saturday, a lot of us went down to the river to swim. Our favoriteplace was near an old wharf, which ran out into deep water, and a fellowcould take a good dive there, when the tide was high. There were some ofthe smaller boys along that day, but they didn't dive any, and if theyeven swam, it was in shallow water near the shore, by the side of thewharf. But I think most of them spent their time wading about.
I was a good swimmer, and could dive very well. I was learning to swimunder water, but had not done very much in that line at the time I speakof. We were nearly ready to come out, when I took a dive from a post onthe end of the wharf, and then turned, under water, to swim in shore. Iintended to try to keep under until I got into water shallow enough forme to touch bottom, and walk ashore. After half a dozen strokes, I feltfor the bottom and my feet touched it. Then I raised my head, but Ididn't raise it out of the water. It struck something hard.
In an instant I knew what had happened. There was a big mud-scow lyingby the side of the wharf, and I had got under that! It was a great flatthing, ever so long and very wide. I knew I must get from under it asquickly as I could. Indeed, I could hardly hold my breath now. I wadedalong with my head bent down, but I didn't reach the side of it. Then Iturned the other way, but my hands, which I held up, still touchednothing but the hard, slimy bottom of the scow. I must have been wadingup and down the length of the thing. I was bewildered. I couldn't thinkwhich way to turn. I could only think of one thing. I would be drownedin less than a minute. Scott would be head of the class. My mother, andlittle Helen--but I can't tell what my thoughts were then. They weredreadful. But just as I was thinking of Helen and mother, I saw throughthe water some white things, not far from me. I knew by their looks thatthey were a boy's legs.
I staggered toward them, and in a moment my hands went out of water,just at the side of the scow. I stood up, and my head with half my bodycame up into the air.
What a breath I drew! But I felt so weak and shaky that I had to takehold of the side of the scow, and stand there for a while before I wadedashore. The boy who was standing by me was Rectus. He did not have thatname then, and I didn't know him.
"It must be pretty hard to stay under water so long," he said.
"Hard!" I answered, as soon as I could get my breath; "I should thinkso. Why, I came near being drowned!"
"Is that so?" said he; "I didn't know that. I saw you go down, and havebeen watching for you to come up. But I didn't expect you to come fromunder the scow."
How glad I was that he had been standing there watching for me to comeup! If he had not been there, or if his legs had been green or thecolor of water, I believe I should have drowned.
I always liked the boy after that, though, of course, there was noparticular reason for it. He was a boarder. His parents lived in NewYork. Samuel Colbert was his real name, and the title of Rectus heobtained at school by being so good. He scarcely ever did anythingwrong, which was rather surprising to the rest of us, because he was notsickly or anything of that kind. After a while, we got into the way ofcalling him Rectus, and as he didn't seem to mind it, the name stuck tohim. The boys generally liked him, and he got on quite well in theschool,--in every way except in his studies. He was not a smart boy, anddid not pretend to be.
I went right through the academy, from the lowest to the highest class,and when I left, the professor, as we called our principal, said that Iwas ready to go to college, and urged me very much to do so. But I wasnot in any hurry, and my parents agreed with me that, after four yearsof school-life, I had better wait a while before beginning a new course.All this disturbed the professor very much, but he insisted on mykeeping up my studies, so as not to get rusty, and he came up to ourhouse very often, for the purpose of seeing what I was doing in thestudy line, and how I was doing it.
I thought over things a good deal for myself, and a few months after Ileft the academy I made up my mind to travel a little. I talked about itat home, and it was generally thought to be a good idea, although mysister was in favor of it only in case I took her with me. Otherwise sheopposed it. But there were a great many reasons why I could not takeher. She was only eleven.
I had some money of my own, which I thought I would rather spend intravel than in any other way, and, as it was not a large sum, and as myfather could not afford to add anything to it, my journey could not bevery extensive. Indeed, I only contemplated going to Florida and perhapsa few other Southern States, and then--if it could be done--a visit tosome of the West India islands, and, as it was winter-time, that wouldbe a very good trip. My father did not seem to be afraid to trust me togo alone. He and the professor talked it over, and they thought that Iwould take good enough care of myself. The professor would have muchpreferred to see me go to college, but, as I was not to do that, hethought travelling much better for me than staying at home, although Imade no promise about taking my books along. But it was pretty wellsettled that I was to go to college in the fall, and this consoled him alittle.
The person who first suggested this travelling plan was our oldphysician, Dr. Mathews. I don't know exactly what he said about it, butI knew he thought I had been studying too hard, and needed to "let up"for a while. And I'm sure, too, that he was quite positive that I wouldhave no let up as long as I staid in the same town with the professor.
Nearly a year before this time, Rectus had left the academy. He hadnever reached the higher classes,--in fact, he didn't seem to get onwell at all. He studied well enough, but he didn't take hold of thingsproperly, and I believe he really did not care to go through the school.But he was such a quiet fellow that we could not make much out of him.His father was very rich, and we all thought that Rectus was taken awayto be brought up as a partner in the firm. But we really knew nothingabout it: for, as I found out afterward, Rectus spent all his time,after he left school, in studying music.
Soon after my trip was all agreed upon and settled, father had to go toNew York, and there he saw Mr. Colbert, and of course told him of myplans. That afternoon, old Colbert came to my father's hotel, andproposed to him that I should take his son with me. He had always heard,he said, that I was a sensible fellow, and fit to be trusted, and hewould be very glad to have his boy travel with me. And he furthermoresaid that if I had the care of Samuel--for of course he didn't call hisson Rectus--he would pay me a salary. He had evidently read about youngEnglish fellows travelling on the continent with their tutors, and Isuppose he wanted me to be his son's tutor, or something like it.
When father told me what Mr. Colbert had proposed, I agreed instantly. Iliked Rectus, and the salary would help immensely. I wrote to New Yorkthat very night, accepting the proposition.
When my friends in the town, and those at the school, heard that Rectusand I were going off together, they thought it an uncommonly good joke,and they crowded up to our house to see me about it.
"Two such good young men as you and Rectus travelling together ought tohave a beneficial influence upon whole communities," said Har
ry Alden;and Scott remarked that if there should be a bad storm at sea, he wouldadvise us two to throw everybody else overboard to the whales, for theother people would be sure to be the wicked ones. I am happy to say thatI got a twist on Scott's ear that made him howl, and then mother came inand invited them all to come and take supper with me, the Tuesday beforeI started. We invited Rectus to come up from the city, but he did notmake his appearance. However, we got on first-rate without him, and hada splendid time. There was never a woman who knew just how to make boyshave a good time, like my mother.
I had been a long while on the steamer waiting for Rectus. She was tosail at three o'clock, and it was then after two. The day was clear andfine, but so much sitting and standing about had made me cold, so that Iwas very glad to see a carriage drive up with Rectus and his father andmother. I went down to them. I was anxious to see Rectus, for it hadbeen nearly a year since we had met. He seemed about the same as he usedto be, and had certainly not grown much. He just shook hands with me andsaid, "How d' ye do, Gordon?" Mr. and Mrs. Colbert seemed ever so muchmore pleased to see me, and when we went on the upper deck, the oldgentleman took me into the captain's room, the door of which stood open.The captain was not there, but I don't believe Mr. Colbert would havecared if he had been. All he seemed to want was to find a place where wecould get away from the people on deck. When he had partly closed thedoor, he said:
"Have you got your ticket?"
"Oh, yes!" I answered; "I bought that ten days ago. I wrote for it."
"That's right," said he, "and here is Sammy's ticket. I was glad to seethat you had spoken about the other berth in your state-room beingreserved for Sammy."
I thought he needn't have asked me if I had my ticket when he knew thatI had bought it. But perhaps he thought I had lost it by this time. Hewas a very particular little man.
"Where do you keep your money?" he asked me, and I told him that thegreater part of it--all but some pocket-money--was stowed away in aninside pocket of my vest.
"Very good," said he; "that's better than a pocket-book or belt: but youmust pin it in. Now, here is Sammy's money--for his travelling expensesand his other necessities; I have calculated that that will be enoughfor a four months' trip, and you wont want to stay longer than that. Butif this runs out, you can write to me. If you were going to Europe, now,I'd get you a letter of credit, but for your sort of travelling, you'dbetter have the money with you. I did think of giving you a draft onSavannah, but you'd have to draw the money there--and you might as wellhave it here. You're big enough to know how to take care of it." Andwith this he handed me a lot of banknotes.
"And now, what about your salary? Would you like to have it now, or waituntil you come back?"
This question made my heart jump, for I had thought a great deal abouthow I was to draw that salary. So, quick enough, I said that I'd like tohave it now.
"I expected so," said he, "and here's the amount for four months. Ibrought a receipt. You can sign it with a lead-pencil. That will do. Nowput all this money in your inside pockets. Some in your vest, and somein your under-coat. Don't bundle it up too much, and be sure and pin itin. Pin it from the inside, right through the money, if you can. Putyour clothes under your pillow at night. Good-bye! I expect they'll besounding the gong directly, for us to get ashore."
And so he hurried out. I followed him, very much surprised. He hadspoken only of money, and had said nothing about his son,--what hewished me to do for him, what plans of travel or instruction he haddecided upon, or anything, indeed, about the duties for which I was tobe paid. I had expected that he would come down early to the steamer andhave a long talk about these matters. There was no time to ask him anyquestions now, for he was with his wife, trying to get her to hurryashore. He was dreadfully afraid that they would stay on board too long,and be carried to sea.
Mrs. Colbert, however, did not leave me in any doubt as to what shewanted me to do. She rushed up to me, and seized me by both hands.
"Now you will take the greatest and the best care of my boy, wont you?You'll cherish him as the apple of your eye? You'll keep him out ofevery kind of danger? Now _do_ take good care of him,--especially instorms."
"SHE SEIZED ME BY BOTH HANDS."]
I tried to assure Rectus's mother--she was a wide, good-humoredlady--that I would do as much of all this as I could, and what I saidseemed to satisfy her, for she wiped her eyes in a very comfortable sortof a way.
Mr. Colbert got his wife ashore as soon as he could, and Rectus and Istood on the upper deck and watched them get into the carriage and driveaway. Rectus did not look as happy as I thought a fellow ought to look,when starting out on such a jolly trip as we expected this to be.
I proposed that we should go and look at our state-room, which wasnumber twenty-two, and so we went below. The state-room hadn't muchstate about it. It was very small, with two shelves for us to sleep on.I let Rectus choose his shelf, and he took the lower one. This suited mevery well, for I'd much rather climb over a boy than have one climb overme.
There wasn't anything else in the room to divide, and we were just aboutto come out and call the thing settled, when I heard a shout at thedoor. I turned around, and there stood Harry Alden, and Scott, and TomMyers and his brother George!
I tell you, I was glad to see them. In spite of all my reasoning that itmade no difference about anybody coming to see me off, it did make agood deal of difference. It was a lonely sort of business starting offin that way--especially after seeing Rectus's father and mother comedown to the boat with him.
"We didn't think of this until this morning," cried Scott. "And then wevoted it was too mean to let you go off without anybody to see yousafely on board----"
"Oh, yes!" said I.
"And so our class appointed a committee," Scott went on, "to come downand attend to you, and we're the committee. It ought to have beenfellows that had gone through the school, but there were none of themthere."
"Irish!" said Harry.
"So we came," said Scott. "We raised all the spare cash there was in theclass, and there was only enough to send four of us. We drew lots. If ithadn't been you, I don't believe the professor would have let us off.Any way, we missed the noon train, and were afraid, all the way here,that we'd be too late. Do you two fellows have to sleep in those'cubby-holes'?"
"Certainly," said I; "they're big enough."
"Don't believe it," said Harry Alden; "they're too short."
"That's so," said Scott, who was rather tall for his age. "Let's try'em."
This was agreed to on the spot, and all four of the boys took off theirboots and got into the berths, while Rectus and I sat down on the littlebench at the side of the room and laughed at them. Tom Myers and hisbrother George both climbed into the top berth at once, and as theyfound it was a pretty tight squeeze, they both tried to get out at once,and down they came on Scott, who was just turning out of the lowerberth,--which was too long for him, in spite of all his talk,--and thenthere was a much bigger tussle, all around, than any six boys could makewith comfort in a little room like that.
I hustled Tom Myers and his brother George out into the dining-room, andthe other fellows followed.
"Is this where you eat?" asked Scott, looking up and down at the longtables, with the swinging shelves above them.
"No, this isn't where they eat," said Harry; "this is where they come tolook at victuals, and get sick at the sight of them."
"Sick!" said I; "not much of it."
But the committee laughed, and didn't seem to agree with me.
"You'll be sick ten minutes after the boat starts," said Scott.
"We wont get into sea-sick water until we're out of the lower bay," Isaid. "And this isn't a boat--it's a ship. You fellows know lots!"
Tom Myers and his brother George were trying to find out why thetumblers and glasses were all stuck into holes in the shelves over thetables, when Harry Alden sung out:
"What's that swishing?"
"That what?" said I.
"There it goes again!" Harry cried. "Splashing!"
"It's the wheels!" exclaimed Rectus.
"That's so!" cried Scott. "The old thing's off! Rush up! Here! Thehind-stairs! Quick!"
And upstairs to the deck we all went, one on top of another. The wheelswere going around, and the steamer was off!
Already she was quite a distance from the wharf. I suppose the tidecarried her out, as soon as the lines were cast off, for I'm sure thewheels had not been in motion half a minute before we heard them. Butall that made no difference. We were off.
I never saw four such blank faces as the committee wore, when they sawthe wide space of water between them and the wharf.
"Stop her!" cried Scott to me, as if I could do anything, and then hemade a dive toward a party of men on the deck.
"They're passengers!" I cried. "We must find the captain."
"No, no!" said Harry. "Go for the steersman. Tell him to steer back! Wemustn't be carried off!"
Tom Myers and his brother George had already started for thepilot-house, when Rectus shouted to them that he'd run down to theengineer and tell him to stop the engine. So they stopped, and Rectuswas just going below when Scott called to him to hold up.
"You needn't be scared!" he said. (He had been just as much scared asanybody.) "That man over there says it will be all right. We can go backwith the pilot. People often do that. It will be all the more fun. Don'tbother the engineer. There's nothing I'd like better than a trip backwith a pilot!"
"That's so," said Harry; "I never thought of the pilot."
"But are you sure he'll take you back?" asked Rectus, while Tom Myersand his brother George looked very pale and anxious.
"Take us? Of course he will," said Scott. "That's one of the things apilot's for,--to take back passengers,--I mean people who are onlygoing part way. Do you suppose the captain will want to take us all theway to Savannah for nothing?"
Rectus didn't suppose that, and neither did any of the rest of us, but Ithought we ought to look up the captain and tell him.
"But, you see," said Scott, "it's just possible he _might_ put back."
"Well, don't you want to go back?" I asked.
"Yes, of course, but I would like a sail back in a pilot-boat," saidScott, and Harry Alden agreed with him. Tom Myers and his brother Georgewanted to go back right away.
We talked the matter over a good deal. I didn't wish to appear as if Iwanted to get rid of the fellows who had been kind enough to come allthe way from Willisville to see me off, but I couldn't help thinkingthat it didn't look exactly fair and straightforward not to say thatthese boys were not passengers until the pilot was ready to go back. Idetermined to go and see about the matter, but I would wait a littlewhile.
It was cool on deck, especially now that the vessel was moving along,but we all buttoned up our coats and walked up and down. The sun shonebrightly, and the scene was so busy and lively with the tug-boatspuffing about, and the vessels at anchor, and the ferry-boats, and awhole bay-full of sights curious to us country boys, that we all enjoyedourselves very much--except Tom Myers and his brother George. Theydidn't look happy.