CHAPTER XVII
THE TRIP TO THE FAR WEST
"My stars! what a very busy place!"
This was Dave's exclamation as he and Oliver Wadsworth hurried along oneof the streets of New York City, on the way to buy some small thingwhich had been forgotten. They had arrived in the metropolis an hourahead of time, and the country boy had stared at the many sights inwonder.
"It is one of the busiest cities in the world," answered themanufacturer, with a smile. "A fortune can be made or lost here in notime."
"I believe you. And the people! Why, there is a regular crowd, no matterwhere you turn."
"Don't you think you'd like the city, Dave?"
"I don't know--perhaps I should, after I got used to it."
Roger and Phil had not yet come in, and they had left Billy Dill at thedepot to watch out for them. On returning to the station, Dave and Mr.Wadsworth met the three at the doors.
"Here we are again!" cried Roger, shaking hands. "And not very much timeto spare, either."
"Is the train in?" asked the manufacturer.
"Will be in a few minutes, so the gateman said," answered Phil.
They saw to it that their trunks were properly cared for, and a shortwhile after the cars came in and they climbed aboard. Seats had beenengaged beforehand, so there was no trouble on that score.
"Now remember to write whenever you get the chance," said OliverWadsworth to Dave. "And if you run short of funds, don't hesitate to letme know."
"I'll remember, and thank you very much," replied Dave, and then thelong train moved off, slowly at first, and then at a good rate of speed.Dave's long journey to solve the mystery of his identity had begun.
"Say, what mountain is this we're goin' under, anyway?" came presentlyfrom the sailor. "I noticed it when I came to New York."
"This isn't a mountain," laughed Roger. "It is New York City itself. Weare under the streets."
"Great whales! Wonder they don't knock down the wall o' somebuddy'scellar!"
It was not long before they came out into the open, and then both Daveand the sailor looked out of the windows with interest. Phil and Rogerwere more used to traveling, and spent the time in pointing out objectsof interest and in answering questions.
The fine coach was a revelation to Billy Dill, who, in the past, hadtraveled exclusively in the ordinary day cars.
"These here seats are better nor them in a barber shop," he observed."An' thet little smoking-room is the handiest I ever see. But, boys, wemade one big mistake," he added, suddenly.
"What's that?" asked Phil.
"Unless we tie up to an eatin' house on the way, we'll be starved.Nobody brung any grub along."
"Don't worry about that," said Roger, with a wink at the others. "Ithink I can scrape up some crackers and cheese somewhere."
"Well, that's better--although I allow as how we could have brought someham sandwiches as well as not."
They had all had dinner, so nobody was hungry until about six o'clock,when a waiter from the dining-car came through in his white apron.
"First call to supper!"
"Wot's thet?" queried Billy Dill.
"Come and see," answered Dave, and led the way to the dining-car. Whenthe old sailor saw the tables, and saw some folks eating as if at home,he stared in amazement.
"Well, keelhaul me, if this don't beat the Dutch!" he ejaculated,dropping into a chair pointed out to him. "Reg'lar hotel dinin'-room onwheels, ain't it? Never heard o' such a thing in my life, never! Say,Roger, better keep that crackers an' cheese out o' sight, or they'lllaugh at ye!" he added, with a chuckle.
"You never saw anything like this, then?" asked Dave.
"Never. I allers traveled in one o' them, plain, every-day kind o'trains, an' took my grub along in a pasteboard box."
Though amazed, Billy Dill was not slow about eating what was set beforehim, and he declared the repast the finest he had ever tasted. After themeal he went into the smoking compartment for a smoke, and then cameback to the boys.
"Feelin' a bit sleepy," he announced. "I suppose there ain't noobjections to my going to sleep."
"Not at all," said Phil. "Do you want your berth made up right away?"
"Humph! that's a good one!" laughed the tar. "They may have an eatin'room, but they ain't got no bedrooms, an' I know it. I'll do my best inthe seat, though I allow a reg'lar long sofy would be better."
"Just you wait until I call the porter," said Roger, and touched thepush-button. "This gentleman will have his berth made up," he went on,as the porter appeared.
"Yes, sah."
"Make it up with real sheets, messmate," put in Billy Dill, thinking itwas a joke. "An' you might add a real feather piller, while ye are atit."
"Yes, sah," answered the porter, with a grin. "Please step to anotherseat, sah."
"Come," said Dave, and arose and took Billy Dill to the opposite side ofthe sleeping-coach.
The old tar dropped into a vacant seat and watched the porter as hebegan to make up the berths. From a smile his face changed to a look ofwonder, and when he saw the clean sheets, blankets, and pillows broughtforth he could scarcely control himself.
"Cables, capstans, an' codfish!" he murmured. "Thet beats thedinin'-room, don't it? Say, maybe they hev got a ballroom on board, an'a church, an' a--a--farm, an' a few more things."
"Not quite," answered Roger, with a laugh. "But there is a library, ifyou want any books to read."
"Beats all! Why, this here train is equipped like a regular ship, ain'tshe?"
"Almost," said Dave. "Here are two berths; you can take one and I'lltake the other."
"Good enough, Dave. Which will ye have?"
The boy said he preferred the lower berth, and Billy Dill swung himselfup in true sailor fashion to that above.
"Makes me think o' a ship!" he declared. "I know I'll sleep like arock!" And half an hour later he was in the land of dreams, and thenthe boys also retired.
Morning found them well on their way to Chicago, and just before noonthey rolled into the great city by the lakes. Here they had two hours towait, and spent the time in getting dinner and taking a short ridearound to see the sights.
"This is as far west as I have been," said Roger. "The rest of thejourney will be new to me."
"I once took a journey to Los Angeles," said Phil. "But I went andreturned by the southern route, so this is new to me also."
"I have never traveled anywhere--that is, since I can remember," put inDave. "But I am sure I am going to like it--that is, if I don't getseasick when I am on the ocean."
"Oh, I suppose we'll all get our dose of that," responded the senator'sson.
"Maybe not," said Billy Dill. "Some gits it, an' some don't."
Nightfall found them well on the second portion of their journey to SanFrancisco. There was an observation car on the train, and the wholeparty spent hours seated on camp-chairs, viewing scenery as it rushedpast them. Now and then, for a change, they would read, and Billy Dillwould smoke, and the boys often talked over what was before them.
"My father said I might tell you the object of my trip," said Phil tohis chums. "But he does not want anybody else to know of it, unless itbecomes necessary for me to say something to the captain. The supercargoof the ship is a man named Jasper Van Blott. He has worked for my fatherfor some years, and my father always thought him honest. But latelythings have happened which have caused my father to suspect thissupercargo. He sometimes disposes of certain portions of a cargo, andhis returns are not what they should be."
"Then you are to act as a sort of spy," said Roger.
"I am to watch everything he does without letting him know exactly whatI am doing. And when he makes a deal of any kind, I am to do my best toascertain if his returns are correct. If I find he is honest, my fatheris going to retain him and increase his salary; if he is dishonest, myfather will discharge him, and possibly prosecute him."
"Have you ever met this Van Blott?" asked Dave.
"Once, when he calle
d on my father two years ago. He is a smooth talker,but I did not fancy his general style. He is supposed to be afirst-class business man, and that is why my father has retained him. Ido not believe Captain Marshall likes him much, by the way he writes tofather."
"Have you ever met Captain Marshall?"
"Oh, yes, twice. You'll like him, I know, he is so bluff and hearty. Myfather has known him for many years, and he thinks the captain one ofthe best skippers afloat. He has sailed the Pacific for ten years andnever suffered a serious accident."
"In that case, we'll be pretty safe in sailing under him," observedRoger. "It will certainly be a long trip--four thousand miles, or more!"
"Do you know anybody else on the ship?" asked Dave.
"I do not, and I don't know much about the ship herself, excepting thatshe is named the _Stormy Petrel_. Father bought her about a year ago.She is said to be a very swift bark, and yet she has great carryingcapacity."
"Will you please explain to me just what a bark is?" said Roger. "I mustconfess I am rather dumb on nautical matters."
"A bark is a vessel with three masts. The front mast, or foremast, assailors call it, and the main, or middle, mast are rigged as a ship,that is, with regular yardarms and sails. The back mast, called themizzen mast, is rigged schooner fashion, that is, with a swinging boom."
"That's plain enough. Hurrah for the _Stormy Petrel_! Dave, we'll befull-fledged sailors before we know it."
"We must get Billy Dill to teach us a thing or two before we go aboard,"said the country boy. "Then we won't appear so green."
This all thought good advice, and for the remainder of the journey theyfrequently talked nautical matters over with the old tar. Billy Dill hadhis book on navigation with him, and also a general work on seamanship,and he explained to them how a ship, and especially a bark, wasconstructed, and taught them the names of the ropes and sails, and manyother things.
"You'll soon get the swing on it," he declared. "It ain't so much tolearn fer a feller as is bright an' willin' to learn. It's only theblockheads as can't master it. But I allow as how none o' you expect towork afore the mast, do ye?"
"Not exactly," answered Phil. "But there is no harm in learning to do asailor's work, in case we are ever called on to take hold. Somebodymight get sick, you know."
"Thet's true, lad--an' I can tell ye one thing: A ship in a storm on thePacific, an' short-handed, ain't no plaything to deal with," concludedthe old tar.
Dave Porter in the South Seas; or, The Strange Cruise of the Stormy Petrel Page 20