Randy of the River Part 23

"I was only joking. But really, Randy, I'd like to do something for you, to show I appreciate what you did for my wife and for Helen."

"I do not want anything, Mr. Shalley, excepting work."

"Work? I should imagine you had enough of that right here."

"I mean work that would pay me regular wages. We must have money. My father needs the doctor, and medicine, and we have to buy groceries, and such, and we can't make the farm pay the bills."

"I understand, my lad. Where is your father?"

"I am here, sir," came from the couch in the sitting room.

"May I come in, Mr. Thompson?"

"Certainly," answered the sick man, and a moment later Andrew Shalley entered the cottage and was shaking hands with Randy's father.

CHAPTER XIII

MR. SHALLEY MAKES AN OFFER

The two men conversed together for fully half an hour, and during that time Andrew Shalley learned much concerning the Thompson family and their struggle to make both ends meet.

"I live at Nyack," said Andrew Shalley. "And my headquarters for boats is there also. But the pa.s.senger steamer runs from New York City to Albany. The tugs run anywhere on the river, and on New York Bay."

"It must be a nice business," said Randy. "I like boats of any kind."

"If I had a boat on the river here I might give you a job," went on the gentleman. "But all of my craft are on the Hudson."

"They tell me that the Hudson is a grand stream."

"Nothing finer in this country, my boy, nothing finer. I have traveled all over the United States and I know. I think it is fully equal to the German Rhine and the St. Lawrence."

"Maybe you could give me a situation on one of your Hudson River boats," went on Randy, struck by a sudden idea.

"Would you care to leave home?"

"Oh, Randy, you wouldn't want to go away!" cried Mrs. Thompson.

"I would if it paid to do so," answered Randy, quickly. "There isn't much chance for work in Riverport."

"And I can keep an eye on the garden," said Mr. Thompson. "I know I am going to feel some better now this spell is pa.s.sing."

"If you cared to leave home I might give you some sort of a job on one of my boats," went on Andrew Shalley, thoughtfully.

"What kind of a job?"

"I'd have to see about it first. I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll send you a letter next week."

"Thank you."

"That will be best. But now I am going to do something else." The steamboat man drew out his wallet. "I want you to accept this." And he held out five crisp ten-dollar bills.

Randy did not wish to take the money, but the steamboat man urged it and finally laid the bills on the table.

"I am sure you are more than kind, Mr. Shalley," said Mrs. Thompson. "I shall remember you."

"Let us call it a loan," said Mr. Thompson, "to be paid back when I am at work once more."

"Yes, call it a loan," said Randy, "otherwise I, for one, don't want it."

"Have your way," laughed Mr. Shalley. "But don't worry about the payment."

Before he left he walked around the little farm and praised what Randy had done.

"Evidently not a lazy boy," he told himself, "and one who is willing to aid his parents. That is the sort I like."

"He is a very nice man," said Mrs. Thompson, when the visitor had departed. "Randy, you were fortunate to make such a friend."

"Yes. But, mother, I think we ought to pay back that money some day."

"I can do that--when I am able to go at carpentering again," put in Mr.

Thompson.

After that a week pa.s.sed quietly enough. Randy worked early and late and got the little farm in good shape and also visited Jack and bade his friend good-by.

"Maybe I'll get a position on one of the Hudson River boats," said our hero.

"If you do, and you stop at Albany, you must come and see me," answered Jack, and gave his new address.

On the following Monday came a letter from Andrew Shalley. It was short and to the point and read in part as follows:

"All I can offer you at present is the position of a deckhand on my steamboat, the _Helen Shalley_. If you wish to accept that I will pay you twenty dollars per month and your board at the start, and more when you are experienced. If you wish to accept, write to me and come on to Nyack, to my office."

"Here's an offer at last!" cried Randy, as he read the communication.

He had been fearful that Andrew Shalley might forget him.

"Twenty dollars per month is not so very much," said his mother.

"Yes, but I am to get my board, so the money will all be clear profit, outside of the cost of my clothing."

"I suppose you will live on the boat," put in Mr. Thompson. "Most of the crew do."

"I can send the most of the money home each month," continued Randy.

"The boat won't run during the winter," said his mother, who did not much relish having her son leave home.