Up the River; or, Yachting on the Mississippi

by Oliver Optic

  CHAPTER IV.

  NICK BOOMSBY HAS ASPIRATIONS.

  When I reached Market Wharf I found that the Islander had hauled outinto the stream from the wharf where she had been undergoing repairs.Captain Blastblow had certainly done his work well. The twin sister ofthe Sylvania had been painted, and she looked as though she had justcome out of the ship-yard for the first time. She was moored off theyacht-club house, and the American flag was flying at her peak, asthough she had just gone into commission.

  I earnestly hoped that Colonel Shepard would conclude to make the tripup the Mississippi, for I was very confident we should enjoy yachtingon the great river much more in company with the Islander, and thepleasant party on board of her, than we could alone.

  I took a shore boat to board the Sylvania, for as this was our lastchance on shore for the present, all hands had been allowed to spendthe day in the city. Cobbington declared that he did not care to seeany more of the city, where he had passed so many miserable days, andhad volunteered to remain on board as ship-keeper.

  Miles Cobbington had come to the south as an invalid, and having nomeans, he had picked up a precarious living by hunting, fishing, anddoing such odd jobs of work as he could find. When I came across him hewas hungry, and without a place to lay his head. With good living onboard the Sylvania, and with his mind relieved of all anxiety about hisdaily food and shelter, he had picked up wonderfully during the monthof our trip up the river.

  "Well, Miles, how do you get on?" I asked as I ascended the gangway.

  "First-rate, Captain Garningham. I haven't been so happy for years as Iam now," he replied with a cheerful smile. "I begin to think I may livefor some years yet."

  "I hope you will live for many years yet," I replied. "Mr. Peeks hasbeen on board this afternoon, has he not?"

  "Yes, sir; and I am very sorry to have him leave for such a reason,"said Cobbington, with a look of genuine sympathy.

  "I believe he attended to putting all our provisions and stores onboard."

  "Yes, captain; we stowed away everything last night, and we are readyto leave as soon as you give the word."

  "We can't go without a steward," I added, glancing at Cobbington to seeif I could find any suggestion in his face. But he looked entirelyblank.

  "The steamers here are hauling off, now, and I should say you wouldhave no difficulty in finding one," he replied.

  "Do you think you can readily find another good waiter?" I asked.

  "I could find a hundred of them in half an hour," he replied.

  "Then I wish you to find one as soon as the crew come on board. I wantone to take your place in the fore-cabin."

  "To take my place!" exclaimed Cobbington, looking aghast at me. "Thenyou are going to discharge me. What have I done?"

  "You have done lots of things, and done them well. You will take Mr.Peeks's place as steward, at the same wages he received," I replied,unwilling to hurt his feeling a moment longer.

  "Thank you, Captain Garningham," added Cobbington, his thin facesuddenly wreathed in smiles. "I suppose you understand what you aredoing, captain."

  "I think I do; but I will add that it was my father who suggested yourname for the position."

  "I am very grateful to him for doing so, and to you for giving me theplace. I think I can do the work to your satisfaction, for I have hadconsiderable experience in this sort of business."

  I gave him such directions as he needed, and then called a shore boat.As the Islander was likely to be our consort during the whole, or apart, of the cruise up the Mississippi, I thought I would pay her avisit, and become better acquainted with her officers. My uniformprocured me a ready recognition on her deck. Captain Blastblow was aman of forty, with a bald head and red whiskers. He treated me verypolitely, though I thought I could see something like contempt in hismanner, possibly at the idea of a young fellow like me presuming tohold a position equal to his own.

  The captain took considerable pains to bring it into the conversationthat he had been a seaman all his life, that he had come on boardthrough the hawse hole, and had not crawled in at the cabin window. Hemade a slurring remark about fresh-water sailors, and informed me thathe had been around Cape Horn and the Cape of Good Hope. He had been anensign in the navy during "the late unpleasantness," and had served inthe Gulf of Mexico in the blockade fleet.

  "When do you sail, Captain Blastblow?" I inquired.

  "I don't know: but I have my orders to be ready to go at a moment'swarning at any time after daylight to-morrow morning," replied thecaptain of the Islander.

  These instructions seemed to be entirely consistent with what ColonelShepard had said, that his departure and destination depended upon theletters he expected to receive by the afternoon mail. I looked over thesteamer, and found her as neat as a new pin in every part. The officersand crew had put on a new uniform, and I found that they had steam upon board.

  I found no one that I knew on her deck, and the captain introduced meto the mate, the engineers, and the steward. I thought there was alittle irony in his words as he did so; but I took no notice of thiscircumstance. I could see that he believed he was a thoroughlycompetent captain, and that he had some doubts in regard to my abilityto fill the position I occupied on board of the Sylvania. I was willingthat the future should settle all such questions; but I had the vanityto believe, though I did not say so, that I could handle the Sylvaniaas well as he could the Islander.

  We parted as the best of friends should part, and when I had seatedmyself in the boat, I could not help thinking I should like to see himhandle his vessel in such a storm as I had seen on Lake Superior. In afew moments I was landed on Market Wharf, and walked up to thepost-office to inquire if there were any letters for me. I learned thatthe northern mail had not arrived. It was often several hours behindtime, for the railroads in Florida were in very bad condition.

  Colonel Shepard was there, very impatient at the non-arrival of hisletters. He told me, if he had to go to New York, he should sail in theIslander on the next tide. If his business did not call him north atonce, he should sail with us the next morning.

  The colonel went over to the Carlton, and I was about to go with him,when Nick Boomsby came up to me. He was dressed in his best clothes,and he was as good a representative of the idiotic swell as I had evermet.

  "When do you sail, Captain Alick?" he asked, as though the question wasone of vital importance to him personally.

  "To-morrow morning, about seven o'clock, unless some change is made inthe arrangements," I replied, wondering what possible interest he couldhave in the sailing of the steamer.

  "Alick, you and I were always good friends," he continued.

  "Not always, though I don't mind that now," I added, not willing thatthe exact truth should be sacrificed, even by my silence.

  "I am getting a little tired of this place, and I want to be out of it.I know we didn't always agree when we were little children; but I don'tbelieve you think of these things now."

  "I have not the least ill-will towards you, Nick."

  "I am right glad to hear you say so. The old man never will let up onyou, I suppose. But I told him he was a fool, and that he had betterlet you alone."

  Perhaps it was good advice, but I did not believe he ever gave it tohis father, though he was capable of any disrespect. I waited to learnwhat he was driving at, though the fact that he had said he wished hewas going with me on the cruise came to my mind in this connection.

  "I am tired of the sort of life I am leading," continued Nick.

  "I don't blame you," I added, with the utmost sincerity, though I hadnot supposed he had any soarings above the sphere of a bar-tender.

  "What can I do? The old man won't let me do anything else beside tendbar. It is mean business, and I'm bound to get out of it."

  I thought Nick's view of the situation was very commendable, though Idid not see how he was to break away from his father, if the latter wasnot willing he should do so.

  "The only way I can do i
t is to run away," added Nick.

  "I can't advise you to do that," I replied.

  "I am eighteen years old, and I am able to take care of myself. The oldman don't give me any wages, and it's hard work for me to get a suit ofclothes out of him when I need it. Which would you rather do if youwere in my place,--sell whiskey, and very likely become a drunkardyourself, or run away, and become an honest and respectable man?"

  It was a hard question, and I declined to answer it, for I wasunwilling to be responsible to any degree for anything that NickBoomsby might do. I knew him too well.

  "If you will take me to New Orleans on your steamer, I will work mypassage, and be everlastingly obliged to you besides," persisted Nick,coming all at once to the point.

  "No, Nick, I shall not do anything to provoke your father, or give himjust cause to complain of me. So far as your leaving your presentbusiness is concerned, you must settle that for yourself," I replied,firmly.

  I refused all his entreaties to be allowed to go in the Sylvania. Itold him that the relation between his father and myself would notpermit me to do anything to assist him. He seemed to be reconciled tomy decision, and was as pleasant as possible. He asked me about theIslander, and I told him all I knew about her. I inquired what had beendone about the robbery. Nothing more had been done, but everybody wassatisfied that Buckner was the guilty person, and the police were stillsearching for the missing package. Nick was going on board of theSylvania next, and I wrote on a card a request to Cobbington to showhim over the vessel.

  While we were talking the mail arrived. Colonel Shepard rushed to thepost-office, and I was talking to him while the mail was in process ofsorting and distribution. Nick stood by me all the time, and listenedto all that we were saying. At last Colonel Shepard received hisletters. He opened one of them with feverish haste.

  "All right! I go with you, Captain Alick!" exclaimed the colonel,evidently as much delighted as a child would have been. "I will followyou up the Mississippi. What time do you sail, Captain Alick?"

  "At seven; that will bring us to the bar at about the right time," Ireplied.

  "I must send word on board to Captain Blastblow to be ready at thattime."

  The colonel appeared to be searching his pockets for a piece of paper,and I handed him one of my blank cards. He wrote something on it, andintimated that he wanted to find some one by whom he could send it onboard of the Islander.

  "I am just going on board of the Sylvania, and I will leave it on boardof the Islander as I pass her," interposed Nick.

  Colonel Shepard asked me if I knew the young man, and I told him I did.He gave him the card, and Nick hastened off in the direction of theboat-club building. I wondered if he was not intending to look for apassage to New Orleans in the Islander. It was not impossible, and Idetermined that my late passengers should not be burdened with hiscompany.

  I went to the Carlton, and found that my passengers had decided not togo on board of the Sylvania till the next morning, and had ordered anearly breakfast. There was to be some sort of a social occasion in theparlors that evening, and my father and his friends wished to bepresent. I went on board of the steamer. On my way I looked in at thewindow of Captain Boomsby's saloon, and saw that Nick was therepeddling out whiskey to thirsty customers. He had not concealed himselfon board of the Islander; and I had told Colonel Shepard to be on thelookout in the morning, to assure himself that he had no morepassengers than he wanted. I was quite sure I had blocked Nick'swheels, so far as running away in either of the steam-yachts wasconcerned.