Steve and the Steam Engine Part 19

It was such a company as this that Stephen now saw pictured before him.

Perched on the front seat of the wagon driving the horses was the father of the family, rugged, alert, and of the woodsman type characteristic of the New England pioneer. The cavalcade halted. A fire was built and the travelers cooked their supper. Across the valley one could see the fading sunset deepen into twilight. From a little stream near-by the men brought water for the tired horses. Then the women and children clambered into the "ship of the desert" and prepared for a night's rest.

In the meantime the men lingered about the dying fire and one of them, a gun in his hand, paced back and forth as if on guard. Then suddenly he turned excitedly to his comrades with his finger on his lips. He had heard a sound, the sound they all dreaded,--the cry of an Indian.

Presently over the crest of the hill came stealing a stealthy band of savages. On they came, crouching against the rocks and moving forward with the lithe, gliding motion of serpents. The men sank down behind the brush, weapons in hand, and waited. On came the bloodthirsty Indians.

Then, just when the destruction of the travelers seemed certain, onto the stage galloped a company of cowboys. Immediately there was a flashing of rifles and a din of battle. First it seemed as if the heroic rescuers would surely be slaughtered. But they fought bravely and soon the Indians were either killed or captured. Amid the confusion the owners of the prairie schooners leaped to the seats of their wagons, lashed forward their tired horses, and disappeared in safety with the terrified women and children.

It was not until the curtain fell upon this thrilling adventure that Stephen sank back into his chair and drew a long breath.

"Some show, eh, son?" said Mr. Tolman, as they put on their overcoats to leave the theater after the three long acts were over.

The boy looked up, his eyes wide with excitement.

"I should say!" he managed to gasp.

"Did you like it, sonny?" Mr. Ackerman inquired.

"You bet I did!"

"Think you would have preferred to cross the continent by wagon rather than by train?"

Steve hesitated.

"I guess a train would have been good enough for me," he replied. "Was it really as bad as that before the railroads were built?"

"Quite as bad, I'm afraid," was his father's answer. "Sometimes it was even worse, for the unfortunate settlers did not always contrive to escape. It took courage to be a pioneer and travel the country in those days. Undoubtedly there was much romance in the adventure but hand in hand with it went no little peril and discomfort. We owe a great deal to the men who settled the West; and, I sometimes think, even more to the dauntless women."

Stephen did not reply. Very quietly he walked down the aisle between his father and Mr. Ackerman, and when he gave his hand to the latter and said good-night he was still thoughtful. It was evident that the scenes he had witnessed had made a profound impression on him and that he was still immersed in the atmosphere of prairie schooners, lurking Indians, and desert hold-ups. Even when he reached the hotel he was too tense and broad awake to go to bed.

"I wish you'd tell me, Dad, how the first railroad across the country was built," he said. "I don't see how any track was ever laid through such a wilderness. Didn't the Indians attack the workmen? I should think they would have."

His father placed a hand kindly on his shoulder.

"To-morrow we'll talk trans-continental railroads, son, if by that time you still wish to," said he. "But to-night we'll go to bed and think no more about them. I am tired and am sure you must be."

"I'm not!" was the prompt retort.

"I rather fancy you will discover you are after you have undressed,"

smiled his father. "At any rate we'll have to call off railroading for to-night, for if you are not sleepy, I am."

"But you won't have time to tell me anything to-morrow," grumbled Steve, rising unwillingly from his chair. "You will be busy and forget all about it and--"

"I have nothing to do until eleven o'clock," interrupted Mr. Tolman, "when I have a business meeting to attend. Up to that time I shall be free. And as for forgetting it--well, you might possibly remind me if the promise pa.s.ses out of my mind."

In spite of himself the boy grinned.

"You can bank on my reminding you all right!" he said, yawning.

"Very well. Then it is a bargain. You do the reminding and I will do the story-telling. Are you satisfied and ready to go to bed and to sleep now?"

"I guess so, yes."

"Good-night then."

"Good-night, Dad. I--I've had a bully day."

CHAPTER XI

THE CROSSING OF THE COUNTRY

In spite of the many excitements crowded into his first day in New York Stephen found that when his head actually touched the pillow sleep was not long in coming and he awoke the next morning refreshed by a heavy and dreamless slumber. He was even dressed and ready for breakfast before his father and a-tiptoe to attack whatever program the day might present.

Fortunately Mr. Tolman was of a sufficiently sympathetic nature to remember how he had felt when a boy, and with generous appreciation for the lad's impatience he scrambled up and made himself ready for a breakfast that was earlier, perhaps, than he would have preferred.

"Well, son," said he, as they took their places in the large dining room, "what is the prospect for to-day? Are you feeling fit for more adventures?"

"I'm primed for whatever comes," smiled the boy.

"That's the proper spirit! Indians, bandits and cowboys did not haunt your pillow then."

"I didn't stay awake to see."

"You are a model traveler! Now we must plan something pleasant for you to do to-day. I am not sure that we can keep up the pace yesterday set us, for it was a pretty thrilling one. Robberies and arrests do not come every day, to say nothing of flotillas of ships and Wild West shows.

However, we will do the best we can not to let the day go stale by contrast. But first I must dictate a few letters and glance over the morning paper. This won't take me long and while I am doing it I would suggest that you go into the writing room and send a letter to your mother. I will join you there in half an hour and we will do whatever you like before I go to my meeting. How is that?"

"Righto!"

Accordingly, after breakfast was finished, Steve wandered off by himself in search of paper and ink, and so sumptuous did he find the writing appointments that he not only dashed off a letter to his mother recounting some of the happenings of the previous day, but on discovering a rack of post cards he mailed to Jack Curtis, Tim Barclay, Bud Taylor and some of the other boys patronizing messages informing them that New York was "great" and he was _sorry they were not there_.

In fact, it seemed at the moment that all those unfortunate persons who could not visit this magic city were to be profoundly pitied.

In the purchase of stamps for these egoistic missives the remainder of the time pa.s.sed, and before he realized the half-hour was gone, he saw his father standing in the doorway.

"I am going up to the room now to hunt up some cigars, Steve," announced the elder man. "Do you want to come along or stay here?"

"I'll come with you, Dad," was the quick reply.

The elevator shot them to the ninth floor in no time and soon they were in their room looking down on the turmoil in the street below.

"Some city, isn't it?" commented Mr. Tolman, turning away from the busy scene to rummage through his suit case.

"It's a corker!"

"I thought you would like to go out to the Zoo this morning while I am busy. What do you say?"