CHAPTER XXVI.
MAJOR TOPPLETON’S PROPOSITION.
“What does Toppleton want with you?” asked Colonel Wimpleton, coming up to me after the major and his son had retired.
The magnate of Centreport looked ugly, as though, in the moment of his great triumph, he feared a conspiracy to rob the steamboat company of the laurels it had won.
“Nothing in particular, that I am aware of,” I replied, not exactly pleased to have even an unkind look bestowed upon me, after the victory which I had been instrumental in winning.
“You seem to be on excellent terms with him,” sneered the colonel.
“I do not wish to quarrel with any one.”
“What did Toppleton want?” demanded the great man, rather more sharply than the occasion seemed to require.
“I don’t know that he wants anything. He invited me to call at his house, and I promised to do so,” I answered candidly.
“You did!”
“I did, sir. Both the major and Tommy were kind enough to say that they did not wish to quarrel with me; and certainly I have no ill-will against them.”
“You have not!” repeated Colonel Wimpleton, with emphasis. “Am I not your bail on a groundless charge preferred by them?”
“But they have done me more of good than of evil; and the major said no harm should come to me on account of the trial.”
“Wolf, I don’t like this way of doing things. If you are in my service, I don’t want you to have anything to do with my enemies. If three dollars a day is not enough for a boy like you, I will give you four or five; but you mustn’t play into the hands of Toppleton.”
“I don’t intend to do so, sir. I never yet deserted those who used me well, and I don’t intend to begin now. If you think you cannot trust me, sir, don’t do it.”
The time for starting having arrived, the conversation, which did not promise very agreeable results, was interrupted. The band struck up its music, and the Ucayga left the wharf. I went into my stateroom for the purpose of being alone a moment, for I wanted to think over what the colonel had just said to me. He was evidently jealous of anything like intimacy between the Toppletons and myself, and was afraid I would “sell out” the steamboat company. I was not flattered by the suspicion. I considered the subject very faithfully; but I decided that it was unreasonable in my present patron to insist that I should have nothing to do with the Toppletons. As long as Grace lived and smiled upon me, I could assent to nothing of the kind, even if I lost my situation. At the same time, I intended to be true to my employers, even if Grace ceased to smile upon me for doing so.
On the up trip the Ucayga was even uncomfortably crowded; for, besides the excursion party, we had a large number of through passengers. But, as soon as the boat was clear of the wharf, they began to settle down, and to cease to crowd each other. The band played splendidly, and everybody seemed to be satisfied. At Centreport we left the crowd, though the boat was still well filled. The program of the preceding day was repeated. We passed the old Ruoara near Gulfport, and arrived at Hitaca a little before the time in my table. As we had kept all our promises, the new line was in high favor with the public.
The next morning, the old boat departed with hardly a corporal’s guard of passengers, while the Ucayga was crowded. We landed our freight at Ucayga on time, and everybody was satisfied that the new line was an assured success. I need not follow its triumphs any further, for it would be only a repetition of what has already been said. The steamboat line was carrying nearly all the passengers. The old-line boats had hardly business enough to pay for the oil used on the machinery, though the Lake Shore Railroad did tolerably well with its local trade.
When the Ucayga arrived at Centreport, on the day after the excursion, I crossed the lake; and, after a short visit to my mother, I hastened to the mansion of Major Toppleton. I was not only curious to know what the major wanted of me, but I was thirsting for the opportunity to meet Grace. The latter motive was doubtless the stronger one; for, since the poor girl had risked so much to give me warning of the intended arrest, I flattered myself that she was not wholly indifferent to me.
With a fluttering heart I rang the bell at the door of Major Toppleton’s house. I was admitted to the library. Neither the great man nor his son was at home; but the servant assured me they would soon return, for it wanted but a few minutes of lunch-time. I ventured to ask if Miss Grace was at home. I knew she was, for I heard the piano in one of the neighboring rooms, and the music was so sweet I was sure no hands but hers could produce it. In a moment she entered the library, her soft cheeks crimsoned with a blush, which made me feel exceedingly awkward.
“Why, Mr. Wolf! I am so glad to see you!” said she; and, in the enthusiasm of the moment, she advanced toward me, and gave me her hand.
“I’m sure you cannot be as glad to see me as I am to see you,” I replied, pressing the little hand in mine.
Dear me! What was I doing? Straightway I began to feel very queer and awkward, and cheap and mean. She was confused, and apparently astonished by the boldness of my remark, for she retired to a sofa on the other side of the room. I was beginning to thank her for the great service she had rendered me on Monday, when Major Toppleton and Tommy, whom the stupid servant had taken the trouble to summon, entered the library. I wished they had deferred their coming for half an hour. Both of them seemed to be very glad to see me, and took no notice of the presence of Grace. To my astonishment, the magnate invited me to lunch with him. I had not the courage to refuse, or, in other words, to banish myself from the presence of Grace.
“Wolf, we had just nine passengers from Hitaca this morning,” said the major, with a chuckling laugh, as though he intended to make the best of his discomfiture.
“We had over two hundred and fifty,” I replied.
“Yesterday afternoon we had a fair freight down; but we can’t do anything against that new steamer, especially when you have a band of music on board,” added the major. “Will you take some of this cold chicken?”
“Thank you, sir—a little. For your sake I am sorry the steamboat line is doing so well.”
“You can do anything you please with Colonel Wimpleton, just now,” he added.
“I think not, sir.”
“I believe you can. The fact is, you suggested the plan by which the railroad line has been defeated.”
“But the plan is already in working order, and it will go on just as well without me as with me.”
“I am sorry we had any trouble with you, Wolf, for suddenly from a boy you have become a man, and a dangerous man, too, for our side of the lake.”
I was forced to believe that this was mere flattery, intended to help along some object not yet mentioned.
“I have done the best I could for my employers, on whichever side I happened to be engaged.”
“That’s true. I am going to speak plainly now, Wolf. We are beaten; but we don’t intend to remain beaten for any great length of time. The prosperity of Middleport depends greatly upon the Lake Shore Railroad, and I intend to make that a success if it costs me all I am worth. I shall build a bridge at the foot of the lake, so that I can go into Ucayga without the aid of a ferry-boat. A Lightning Express is going through from Middleport to the station at Ucayga in three-quarters of an hour. So far I am determined.”
“That will not help your case much, so far as through travel is concerned.”
“Considerable, Wolf. We shall save fifteen minutes.”
“But we shall still beat you by half an hour.”
“Very true; but I don’t intend to stop here. I shall either build a steamer equal or superior to the Ucayga, to run between Hitaca and Middleport, or I shall run the railroad to the head of the lake.”
“Will it pay?”
“I think it will, but, though Wimpleton and I have always quarreled of late years, I am willing to be fair. I have a plan, which I will state to you. If Wimpleton will run the Ucayga from Hitaca to Middleport in connection with the railroad, I will take off my boats. This will be a fair thing for both of us. You may state the case to him. If he agrees to it, all right; if not, I shall make my next move.”
This, then, was what the major was driving at, and I was to be the ambassador between the rivals. I was willing to do the best I could, but I proposed that Tommy and Waddie should meet and discuss the matter. The little magnate of Middleport promptly and indignantly refused to meet the other little magnate. I promised to report the next day on my mission. As I was leaving, I invited Mrs. Toppleton and Grace to make a trip with me up or down the lake. Somewhat to my surprise, at the suggestion of the major, they accepted the invitation for that day. We crossed the lake, and I assure the reader I took every pains to make my guests happy.
Neither Waddie nor his father was on board again that day; but the latter went up to Hitaca with me in the afternoon. Cautiously approaching the subject I stated Major Toppleton’s proposition. The colonel would hardly listen to it, much less accept it. He swore, and abused his great rival. He would have nothing to do with Toppleton. He would sink the Ucayga before he would help the railroad to a single passenger. He was very savage, and, before he had finished, poured out the vials of his wrath upon me for mentioning the subject.
The next day I reported the result of my mission; and Major Toppleton was quite as savage as the colonel had been. He swore, too, and declared that he would run the Ucayga off the route before another summer.
I spoke to Waddie on the subject, and he expressed a strong desire to meet Tommy, and to be friends with him. He favored the plan of Major Toppleton, and if he had possessed as much influence over his father as Tommy over his, the arrangement would doubtless have been made. I was not without hope that the plan might yet be adopted.
But I have told my story as a steamboat captain; and anything more would be but a repetition. I had labored to make peace, but had failed. If there were olive branches in the future, there were none in the present. I continued to run the Ucayga during the winter, with the same success which attended her from the first of my connection with her. We did about all the through business, and the Lake Shore Railroad languished under the competition.
At the next meeting of the steamboat company Waddie resigned, to the intense indignation of his father, and Dick Bayard was elected president. He also declined a reelection as major of the battalion, and Ben Pinkerton was chosen to the command. Thus far Waddie was true to his good resolutions, though he had much difficulty with his father on account of the change. He often came to me for advice, for the students of the institute seemed to distrust him still. No mutiny or rebellion occurred on his side of the lake, for the resigning of his offices prevented any collision.
Tom Walton made a good thing out of the Belle, and when the season closed, I obtained a place for him as deck-hand on board of the Ucayga, where he did tolerably well for the winter.
In November our family moved up to Hitaca, for my father and I were compelled to spend our nights and Sundays at that port. Our place in Middleport was let for the winter. Occasionally, while lying at Centreport, I made an errand over to Major Toppleton’s that I might see Grace; but I seldom met her. I hoped, most earnestly, that the two lines might be united, and peace restored between the two great houses. As Waddie was in favor of it, the prospect was not altogether dark. As the union meant peace, I continued to labor for it. If effected, the Ucayga would lie at the wharf in Middleport between trips. I earnestly desired it. Then Grace would be a frequent passenger on the boat.
I have told the story of “The Young Captain of the Ucayga Steamer;” how he became captain, and how well he succeeded in this capacity. The story is complete, and nothing more remains to be said of him; but the history of the great quarrel between the two sides of the lake, which has other phases, is not finished. There is another story to be told; but, as most of its events transpired while I was absent, I could only tell it from hearsay. I prefer that it should be related by an actual witness, and for this reason I have invited my friend Ned Skotchley to take the pen, and write “Switch Off; or, The War of the Students.”
I told Ned not to say anything more about me than he was obliged to do; but he is an obstinate fellow, and I find, by looking over his manuscript, that he has, to a very great extent, disregarded my instructions. But I am not responsible for the praise he bestows upon me, though, whatever he says of me, I am conscious that I have tried to be a Christian, to be faithful to my employers, and always to be “On Time.”
THE END
“Switch Off” is the title of the next volume in the Alger Series, No. 150, by Oliver Optic, in which there are many rare adventures and an ending which is eminently satisfactory.