The Young Adventurer Part 30

"Well, gentlemen, I wish you both good luck. What will you take? I have a superior article of whisky that I can recommend."

"Thank you, but I beg you will excuse me, sir," said Ferguson. "I never drink."

"Nor I," said Tom; "but I am much obliged to you all the same."

"Well, that beats me," said the landlord. "Why, you don't know what's good. You ain't a minister, are you?" turning to Ferguson.

"I have not that high distinction, my friend. I am an unworthy member of the church of Scotland."

"I don't think your countrymen generally refuse whisky."

"So much the worse for them. They are only too fond of it. My own brother died a miserable death, brought on by his love of liquor."

"Then I won't press you; but I say, strangers, you won't find many of your way of thinking in the country you're going to."

"I don't doubt he's right, Tom," said Ferguson to Tom, as they entered the chamber a.s.signed to them. "We may not be together always. I hope you won't be led away by them that offer you strong drink. It would be the ruin of you, boy."

"Don't fear for me, Mr. Ferguson. I have no taste for it."

"Sometimes it's hard to refuse."

"It won't be hard for me."

"I am glad to hear you say that, my lad. You are young, strong, and industrious. You'll succeed, I'll warrant, if you steer clear of that quicksand."

Later in the day the two friends began to make inquiries about overland travel. They had no wish to remain long at St. Joe. Both were impatient to reach the land of gold, and neither cared to incur the expense of living at the hotel any longer than was absolutely necessary. Luckily this probably would not be long, for nearly every day a caravan set out on the long journey, and doubtless they would be able to join on agreeing to pay their share of the expenses. It was a great undertaking, for the distance to be traversed was over two thousand miles, through an unsettled country, some of it a desert, with the chances of an attack by hostile Indians, and the certainty of weeks, and perhaps months, of privation and fatigue. Mr. Donald Ferguson looked forward to it with some apprehension; for, with characteristic Scotch caution, he counted the cost of whatever he undertook, and did not fail to set before his mind all the contingencies and dangers attending it.

"It's a long journey we're going on, my lad," he said, "and we may not reach the end of it in safety."

"It isn't best to worry about that, Mr. Ferguson," said Tom cheerfully.

"You are right, my lad. It's not for the best to worry, but it is well to make provision for what may happen. Now, if anything happens to me, I am minded to make you my executor."

"But don't you think I am too young, Mr. Ferguson?"

"You are o'er young, I grant, but you are a lad of good parts, temperate, steady, and honest. I have no other friend I feel like trusting."

"I hope, Mr. Ferguson, there will be no occasion to render you any such service, but whatever I can I will do."

"It will be very simple. You will take my money, and see that it is sent to my mother, in Glasgow. I will give you her address now, and then, if any sudden fate overtakes me, there will be no trouble. You will know just what to do."

Tom was flattered by this mark of confidence. It was evident that the cautious Scotchman had formed a very favorable opinion of him, or he would not have selected so young a boy for so important a trust.

"Will you do the same for me, Mr. Ferguson?" he asked, with the sudden reflection that, young as he was, there was no absolute certainty of his living to reach California.

"Surely I will, my lad."

"If I should die I should want any money I might have left sent to my father."

"Give me his address, my lad, and it shall be done. It is a good precaution, and we shan't either of us die the sooner for doing our duty, to the best of our ability, by those who would mourn our loss."

Tom and his friend inst.i.tuted inquiries, and ascertained that two days later a caravan was to start on its way across the continent. They ascertained, also, that the leader of the expedition was a pioneer named Fletcher, who was making his home at the California Hotel. They made their way thither, and were fortunate enough to find Mr. Fletcher at home. He was a stout, broad-shouldered man, a practical farmer, who was emigrating from Illinois. Unlike the majority of emigrants, he had his family with him, namely, a wife, and four children, the oldest a boy of twelve.

"My friend," said Ferguson, "I hear that you are soon leaving here with a party for California."

"I leave day after to-morrow," answered Fletcher.

"Is your party wholly made up?"

"We are about full; but we might receive one or two more."

"My young friend and I wish to join some good party, as we cannot afford to remain here, and we are anxious to get to work as soon as possible."

Some care needed to be exercised in the choice of a party, as there were some who would only give trouble and annoyance, or perhaps fail to pay their proper share of the expenses. But Ferguson's appearance was sufficient guarantee of his reliability, and no one was likely to object to Tom.

"Of course," added Ferguson, "we are ready to bear our share of the expense."

"Then you can come," said Fletcher. "You will both need revolvers, for we may be attacked by Indians, and must be able to defend ourselves."

"Certainly, we will do our part, if need be."

This was an expense which Tom had not foreseen; but he at once saw the importance of being armed when crossing such a country as lay before them, and went with Ferguson to make the needful purchase. His Scotch friend instructed him in the method of using his new weapon, and Tom felt a boy's natural pride in his new acquisition. He felt years older then he did on the morning when he left his country home. He had gained some knowledge of the world, and felt a greater confidence in himself on that account. He looked forward to the remainder of his journey with pleasurable excitement, and lost no time in making the necessary preparations.

CHAPTER XXI.

HOW THINGS WENT ON AT HOME.

While Tom was slowly making his way westward, there was one place where tidings from him were anxiously awaited, and where nightly prayers were offered for his health and safe progress. Of course this was the dear, though humble, farmhouse, which had been his home.

Twice a week Tom wrote, and his letters were cheerful and rea.s.suring.

"Don't trouble yourself about me, dear mother"--he wrote from Cincinnati. "I am making friends, and learning how to travel. I feel years older, and rely much more on myself than when, an inexperienced boy, I bade you good-by. I am a thousand miles from you, and the longest and most difficult part of the journey lies before me; but with health and strength, and prudence, I hope to arrive in good condition at my destination. As to health I never felt better in my life, and I have taken lessons in prudence and caution which will be of essential service to me. I have found that a boy who goes out into the world to seek his fortune cannot trust everybody he falls in with. He will find foes as well as friends, and he will need to be on his guard.

"I start to-morrow for St. Joseph, in Missouri, going by way of St. Louis. Mr. Donald Ferguson, a middle-aged Scotchman, is my companion. A younger and livelier companion might prove more agreeable, but perhaps not so safe. Mr. Ferguson is old enough to be my father, and I shall be guided by his judgment where my own is at fault. He is very frugal, as I believe his countrymen generally are, and that, of course, just suits me. I don't know how long I shall be in reaching St. Joseph, but I shall write you once or twice on the way. Give my love to father, Sarah, Walter, and Harry, and keep a great deal for yourself.

"Your loving son, "TOM."

"Tom is growing manly, Mary," said Mark Nelson to his wife. "It's doing him good to see a little of the world."

"I suppose it is, Mark," said his wife; "but the more I think of it the more I feel that he is very young to undertake such a long journey alone."

"He is young, but it will make a man of him."

"He must be having a tip-top time," said Walter; "I wish I were with him."