Derrick Sterling Part 24

As long as they were within hearing the boys, shouted back such answers as, "We'll try to!" "Thank you, Ike! We won't forget you; never fear!"

"Good-by all!"

Then the train came along. A few loving words were hastily spoken, and they were off. The hard, grimy, perilous life of the breaker and the mine was left behind, and a new one of study, ambitious dreams, and successes was opening broadly before them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GOOD-BY TO THE COLLIERY]

At first the boys were inclined to feel very homesick, and their conversation was only of the dear ones whom they had just left.

Gradually the feeling wore off, as their attention was attracted by the grand scenery through which they were travelling.

Paul revelled in the gorgeous coloring of the autumnal foliage which covered mountain, hill, and valley with splendid mantles of crimson and gold. As the train, following the picturesque windings of the Lehigh, crept along some mountain-side hundreds of feet above the low-lying bottom lands, his delight at the vast expanse of exquisite scenery unfolded before them knew no bounds.

"I didn't know the world was so beautiful," he said to Derrick, with a sigh of deep content, as the vivid pictures of the grand panorama flashed rapidly by.

Derrick shared this enthusiasm, though to a less extent. He was more interested in the various forms of mining operations which were to be seen on all sides. His continued exclamations of, "Oh, Paul! look at that new breaker," or, "Isn't that a capital idea for a slope?" at last attracted the attention of a middle-aged gentleman who, with a lady, occupied the seat immediately behind them.

Finally he leaned forward, and, speaking to Derrick, said, "Excuse me; but as you seem to be familiar with mining operations, perhaps you will kindly tell me what the great black buildings, of which we now see so many, are used for?"

"Why," answered Derrick, somewhat surprised that anybody should be ignorant regarding what to him were among the commonest objects of life, "those are breakers." Then seeing that the other was still puzzled, he explained, simply and clearly, the uses of breakers, and in a few minutes found himself engaged in earnest conversation with the stranger upon mining in general, and coal mining in particular.

At last the gentleman said, "You seem to be as well informed on the subject as a miner."

"I am, or rather I have been employed in a mine until very recently,"

answered Derrick.

"Indeed! It must be a most interesting occupation, but I should think a very dangerous one. I have a son who visited one of these coal-mines at the time of a disaster that threatened a number of lives, and his accounts of what he saw and experienced at the time are very thrilling.

It was, I believe, at a place called Raven Brook."

It was now Derrick's turn to be interested, and he said, "Why, that's where we have just come from! Raven Brook is the station at which we took the train."

"If I had known that we were to stop there," said the gentleman, "I believe my wife and I would have got off and waited over one train, for we have been very curious to see the place. We have been on a trip to the West," he added, by way of explanation, "and our son's accounts of his experience came to us by letter. Besides, we read much of that disaster in the papers."

"It was awful," said Derrick, simply.

"Then you were in the village at the time? Perhaps you know a brave young fellow named Derrick Sterling?"

A quick flush spread over the boy's face as he answered, "That is my name."

"What!" exclaimed the gentleman; "are you the young man who went back into the mine and risked his life to save a friend?"

"I expect I am," answered Derrick, with burning cheeks; "and this is the friend I went to find."

"Well, of all wonderful things!" cried the stranger. "To think that we should meet you of all persons. Wife, this is Derrick Sterling, the brave lad that Allan wrote to us about, and whose name has been so much in the papers lately."

"You don't mean to say," exclaimed Derrick, "that you are Allan McClain's father?"

"I am," answered the gentleman; "and this is his mother. We are both very proud to make the acquaintance of the Derrick Sterling of whom our boy writes that he is proud to call him friend."

Paul received an almost equal share of attention with Derrick; and during the rest of the journey their new-found friends did everything in their power to make the time pa.s.s quickly and pleasantly to them.

Both Mr. and Mrs. McClain gave the boys an urgent invitation to make their house their home, at least until they selected a boarding-place, and were greatly disappointed to learn that this was already provided for them.

Nothing could exceed Allan McClain's amazement when, upon meeting his parents at the railway-station in Philadelphia, he found them in company, and apparently upon terms of intimate acquaintance, with two of his friends from the Raven Brook Colliery. He was delighted to learn that Derrick and Paul had come to the city to live, and promised to call the next day and arrange all sorts of plans with them.

Mr. Halford, who was also at the station, was almost equally surprised to see them with the McClains, who, he afterwards told Derrick, were among the best families in the city. His carriage was at the station, and in a few minutes more the two boys, who but a short time before had been only poor colliery lads, were ushered into a handsome house, where Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie were waiting to give them a cordial welcome.

Two days later they were established in pleasant rooms of their own, had begun their studies, and, above all, found themselves surrounded by a circle of warm friendships.

Very nearly five years after the date of this chapter, just before sunset of a pleasant summer's day, a barge party of gay young people rowed out over the placid Schuylkill from the boat-house belonging to the University of Pennsylvania. In the stern of the barge, acting as c.o.xswain, sat a young man of delicate frame and refined features. His pale, thoughtful face showed him to be a close student, and the crutch at his side betrayed the fact that he was a cripple.

On each side of the c.o.xswain sat a young lady, both of whom were exchanging good-natured chaff with the merry-faced, stalwart fellow who pulled the stroke oar.

"I don't believe rowing is such hard work after all," said one of them, "though you college men do make such a fuss about your training and your practice spins. I'm sure it looks easy enough."

"You are quite right, Miss Nellie," answered the stroke; "it is awfully easy compared with some things--cramming for a final in mathematics, for instance."

"Oh, Derrick!" exclaimed the other young lady, "you can't call that hard work. I'm sure it doesn't seem as though you had spent your time anywhere but on the river for the past two months. If you can do that, and at the same time graduate number one in your cla.s.s, with special mention in mathematics, the 'cramming,' as you call it, can't be so very difficult."

"All things are not what they seem," chanted Derrick. "It may be, sister Helen, that there are some things in heaven and earth not dreamt of in your philosophy, after all!"

"Oho!" laughed Nellie Halford. "_Pinafore_ and Shakespeare! What a combination of wit and wisdom! It's quite worthy of a U. P. Senior."

"He's not even a U. P. Senior now," said the c.o.xswain, from the stern of the barge. "He has gone back in the alphabet, and is only an A. B."

"An idea for your next cartoon, old man," cried Derrick. "The downfall of the Seniors, and their return to the rudimentary elements of knowledge. By-the-way, Polly," he added, more soberly, "do you remember that to-day is the anniversary of your entering upon the career of breaker-boy five years ago?"

"It is a day I never forget, Dare," answered Paul Evert, gravely, as he gazed into the handsome sun-tanned face in front of him, with a look in which affection and pride were equally blended.

THE END