The Young Adventurer Part 28

"I expect to start for St. Joseph to-morrow. I am in a hurry to get to California."

"That's real mean. I don't see why you can't stay in Cincinnati a week."

"I should like to."

"Then why don't you?" persisted the young girl.

"Jennie," said her mother, "we must remember that Thomas is not traveling for pleasure. He is going to California to seek his fortune.

It won't do for him to linger on his way."

"A week won't make much difference; will it, Tom?"

"I am afraid it will, Jennie. Besides, a friend of Mr. Waterbury will start to-morrow, and has agreed to take me with him."

"I suppose you've got to go, then," said Jennie regretfully. "Oh, where did you get that watch, Tom?"

"A kind friend gave it to me."

"Who do you mean--Mr. Graham?" she asked archly.

"He would be more likely to relieve me of it. No, it is Mr. Waterbury."

"I am going to kiss you for that, Mr. Waterbury," said Jennie impulsively; and she suited the action to the word.

"What will Mr. Waterbury think, Jennie?" said her mother.

"He thinks himself well repaid for his gift," answered that gentleman, smiling; "and half inclined to give Tom another watch."

"Isn't it my turn, now?" asked Tom, with a courage at which he afterward rather wondered; but he was fast getting rid of his country bashfulness.

"I never kiss boys," said Jennie demurely.

"Then I will grow into a man as fast as I can," said Tom, "and give somebody a watch, and then---- But that will be a good while to wait."

"I may kiss you good-by," said Jennie, "if I feel like it."

She did feel like it, and Tom received the kiss.

"It strikes me, Tom," said Mr. Waterbury, as they were walking home, "that you and Jennie are getting along fast."

"She kissed you first," said Tom, blushing.

"But the kiss she gave me was wholly on your account."

"She seems just like a sister," said Tom. "She's a tip-top girl."

CHAPTER XIX.

A MISSOURI TAVERN.

The next day Tom started on his way. His new companion, Donald Ferguson, was a sedate Scotchman, and a thoroughly reliable man. He was possessed to the full of the frugality characteristic of the race to which he belonged, and, being more accustomed to traveling than Tom, saved our hero something in the matter of expense. He was always ready to talk of Scotland, which he evidently thought the finest country in the world. He admitted that Glasgow was not as large a city as London, but that it was more attractive. As for New York, that city bore no comparison to the chief city of Scotland.

"You must go to Scotland some time, Tom," he said. "If you can't visit but one country in the Old World, go to Scotland."

Privately Tom was of opinion that he should prefer to visit England; but he did not venture to hurt the feelings of his fellow-traveler by saying so.

"I wonder, Mr. Ferguson," he could not help saying one day, "that you should have been willing to leave Scotland, since you so much prefer it to America."

"I'll tell you, my lad," answered the Scotchman. "I would rather live in Scotland than anywhere else on G.o.d's footstool; but I won't be denying that it is a poor place for a man to make money, if compared with a new country like this."

"There are no gold-mines, I suppose, sir?"

"No; and the land is not as rich as the land here. It is rich in historical a.s.sociations; but a man, you know, can't live on those," he added shrewdly.

"No, I should think not," said Tom. "It would be pretty dry diet. How long have you been in the country, Mr. Ferguson?"

"A matter of three months only, my lad. It's the gold-mines that brought me over. I read of them in the papers at home, and I took the first ship across the Atlantic."

"Have you a family, Mr. Ferguson?"

"I've got an old mother at home, my lad, who looks to me for support. I left fifty pounds with her when I came away. It'll last her, I'm thinkin', till I can send her some from California."

"Then Mr. Ferguson, you are like me," said Tom. "I am going to California to work for my father and mother. Father is poor, and I have brothers and sisters at home to provide for. I hope I shall succeed, for their sake."

"You will, my lad," said the Scotchman, in a tone of calm confidence.

"It is a n.o.ble purpose, and if you keep to it G.o.d will bless you in your undertaking, and give you a good fortune."

"I hope we shall both be fortunate."

"I have no fear. I put my trust in the Lord, who is always ready to help those who are working for him."

Tom found that Mr. Ferguson, though his manner was dry and unattractive, was a religious man, and he respected and esteemed him for his excellent traits. He was not a man to inspire warm affection, but no one could fail to respect him. He felt that he was fortunate in having such a man for his companion, and he was glad that Mr. Ferguson appeared to like him in turn.

He also found that the Scotchman, though a man of peace, and very much averse to quarreling, was by no means deficient in the trait of personal courage.

One evening they arrived at a small tavern in a Missouri town. Neither Tom nor his companion particularly liked the appearance of the place nor its frequenters, but it appeared to be the only place of entertainment in the settlement.

The barroom, which was the only public room set apart for the use of the guests, was the resort of a party of drunken roisterers, who were playing poker in the corner, and betting on the game. At the elbow of each player was set a gla.s.s of whisky, and the end of each game was marked by a fresh gla.s.s all around.

Tom and Mr. Ferguson took a walk after supper, and then sat down quietly at a little distance from the card-players, attracting at first but little attention from them.

Presently, at the close of a game, gla.s.ses were ordered for the party, at the expense of those who had suffered defeat.

"What'll you have, strangers?" inquired a tipsy fellow, with an Indian complexion and long black hair, staggering toward Ferguson.