"No, sir. I have never traveled any to speak of before leaving home on this journey," replied Tom.
"It will be a pleasant variety for you, then, though the scenery is tame. However, some of the river towns are pretty."
"I am sure I shall like it, sir."
"I wish I were going all the way with you--I mean as far as Cincinnati,"
said Mr. Waterbury.
"I wish you were, sir."
"I have a great mind to do it," said the gentleman musingly. "I should have to go very soon on business, at any rate, and I can attend to it now just as well as later."
"I shall be very glad if you can make it convenient, sir. We might occupy the same stateroom."
"Are you not afraid that I shall follow the example of your Pittsburg roommate?" asked Mr. Waterbury.
"I have less to lose than you," answered Tom. "Besides, I shall have to have a roommate, as there are two berths."
"Precisely, and I might be safer than some. I have a great mind to keep on. I shall see some one on the pier in Marietta by whom I can send word to my family. By the way, I have a son about your age, and a daughter two years younger."
"Have you, sir?" asked Tom, with interest.
"I should like you to meet them. Perhaps you may some day."
"I hope I may," said Tom politely.
"I am a manufacturer," continued Mr. Waterbury, "and sell my goods chiefly in Pittsburg and Cincinnati. From these places they are forwarded farther east and west."
"I suppose that"s a pretty good business, sir?"
"Sometimes; but there are intervals of depression. However, I have no right to complain. I began a poor boy, and now I am moderately rich."
"Were you as poor as I am?" inquired Tom, beginning to feel a personal interest in his companion"s career.
"Quite so, I fancy. At the age of sixteen I couldn"t call myself the owner of five dollars."
"And you have become rich?" said Tom, feeling very much encouraged.
"Moderately so. I am probably worth fifty thousand dollars, and am just fifty years of age."
"That seems to me very rich," said Tom.
"I should have said the same thing at your age. Our views change as we get older. Still, I regard myself as very well off, and, with prudent management, I need not fear reverses."
"I should think not," said Tom.
"You don"t know how easy it is to lose money, my boy. I am not referring to robbery, but to mismanagement."
"Your success encourages me, Mr. Waterbury," said Tom. "I am willing to work hard."
"I think you will succeed. You look like a boy of good habits. Energy, industry, and good habits can accomplish wonders. But I think we are on the point of starting."
Just before the gangplank was drawn in, two persons hastily crossed it.
One was the dark young man who had pa.s.sed them on the way down to the boat; the other was Milton Graham.
"Mr. Waterbury," said Tom hurriedly, "do you see that man?"
"Yes."
"He is the man that tried to rob me."
"We must be on our guard, then. He may be up to more mischief."
CHAPTER X.
ON THE STEAMER.
In half an hour the _River Belle_ was on her way. Tom watched the city as it receded from view. He enjoyed this new mode of travel better than riding on the cars. He had never before been on any boat except a ferry-boat, and congratulated himself on his decision to journey by boat part of the way.
Milton Graham had pa.s.sed him two or three times, but Tom, though seeing him, had not volunteered recognition. Finding that he must make the first advances, Graham finally stopped short, looked full at our hero, and his face wore a very natural expression of surprise and pleasure.
"Why, Tom, is that you?" he said, offering his hand, which Tom did not appear to see.
"Yes," said our hero coldly.
"I didn"t expect to see you here."
"I told you I intended to sail on the _River Belle_."
"So you did; but I thought you had changed your mind."
It made very little difference to Tom what Mr. Graham thought, and he turned from him to watch the scenery past which the boat was gliding.
"I suppose," continued the young man, "you were surprised to find me gone when you came down-stairs to breakfast."
"Yes, I was."
"He resents it because I left him," thought Graham. "I guess I can bring him around."
"The fact was," explained Graham, in a plausible manner, "I went out to call on a friend, meaning to come back to breakfast; but he made me breakfast with him, and when I did return you were gone. I owe you an apology, Tom. I hope you will excuse my unintentional neglect."
"Oh, certainly," said Tom indifferently; "it"s of no consequence."