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"Oh, a strong, healthy boy like you will soon be all right. You don't look like an invalid."
"I never was sick in my life."
"But your guardian told me he was sending you on a sea voyage for your health."
"Did Mr. Waring say that?"
"Yes; didn't you know the object of your sea trip?" asked Capt.
Barnes, in surprise.
"No."
"There may be some tendency to disease in your system--some hereditary tendency," said the captain, after a pause.
"Were your parents healthy?"
"They--died young," answered Dodger, hesitatingly.
"That accounts for your guardian's anxiety. However, you look strong enough, in all conscience; and if you're not healthy, you will be before the voyage ends."
"I don't know what I am to do for clothes," said Dodger, as a new source of perplexity presented itself. "I can't get along with one s.h.i.+rt and collar for five months."
"You will find plenty of clothes in your valise. Hasn't it been given you?"
"No, sir."
"You may ask the steward for it. You didn't think your guardian would send you on a five-months' voyage without a change of clothing, did you?"
And the captain laughed heartily.
"I don't know Mr. Waring very well," said Dodger, awkwardly.
As he went downstairs to inquire about his valise, this question haunted him:
"Why did Curtis Waring send him on a sea voyage?"
Chapter XXII.
The Other Pa.s.senger.
Dodger sought the steward, and asked for his valise.
"Isn't it in your stateroom?" asked that functionary.
"I haven't seen it."
"I remember now. It was put with the luggage of the other pa.s.senger. I will show it to you."
He took Dodger to a part of the s.h.i.+p where freight was stored, and pointed to a sizable valise with a card attached to it on which was inscribed the name: "Arthur Grant."
"This must be yours," he said.
"Yes, I suppose so," answered Dodger, glad to have found out the new name which had been given him, otherwise he would have supposed the valise belonged to some other person.
He took the valise to his stateroom, and, finding a key tied to the handles, he opened it at once.
It proved to contain a very fair supply of underclothing, socks, handkerchiefs, etc., with a tooth brush, a hair brush and comb, and a sponge. Never in his life had Dodger been so well supplied with clothing before. There were four white s.h.i.+rts, two tennis s.h.i.+rts, half a dozen handkerchiefs and the same number of socks, with three changes of underclothing.
"I begin to feel like a gentleman," said Dodger to himself, complacently.
That was not all. At the bottom of the valise was an envelope, sealed, on which was inscribed the name: "Dodger."
"That is for me, at any rate," thought our hero. "I suppose it is from Curtis Waring."
He opened the envelope, and found inclosed twenty-five dollars in bills, with a few lines written on a half-sheet of paper. These Dodger read, with interest and curiosity. They were as follows:
"Dodger:--The money inclosed is for you. When you reach California you will find it of use. I have sent you out there because you will find in a new country a better chance to rise than in the city of New York. I advise you to stay there and grow up with the country. In New York you were under the influence of a bad man, from whom it is best that you should be permanently separated. I know something of the early history of Tim Bolton. He was detected in a crime, and fled to escape the consequences. You are not his son, but his nephew. Your mother was his sister, but quite superior to himself. Your right name is Arthur Grant, and it will be well for you to a.s.sume it hereafter. I have entered you in the list of pa.s.sengers under that name.
"I thought you had taken the will from my uncle's desk, but I am inclined to think you had nothing to do with it. If you know where it is, or whether Bolton has it, I expect you to notify me in return for the money I have expended in your behalf. In that case you can write to me, No. -- Madison Avenue.
"Curtis Waring."
Dodger read the letter over twice, and it puzzled him.
"He seems from the letter to take an interest in me," he soliloquized.
"At any rate, he has given me money and clothes, and paid my pa.s.sage to California. What for, I wonder? I don't believe it is to get me away from the bad influence of Tim. There must be some other reason."
There was another part of the letter with which Dodger did not agree.
Curtis a.s.serted positively that he was the nephew of Tim Bolton, while he was positive that there was no relations.h.i.+p between them.
In that case Curtis must have been an early acquaintance of Tim's. At any rate, he seemed to know about his past life.
Dodger now comprehended his present situation fully. He was a pa.s.senger on the s.h.i.+p _Columbia_, and there was no chance of leaving it. He had ascertainel on inquiry that the vessel would not put in anywhere, but would make the long voyage direct. It would be over four months, at any rate, before he could communicate with Florence, and in the meantime, she and Mrs. O'Keefe, whom he recognized as a good friend, would conclude that he was dead.
It was very provoking to think that he could not even telegraph, as that would relieve all anxiety, and he felt sure that Florence was enough his friend to feel anxious about him.
He had just closed up his valise, when a young man of dark complexion and of an attractive, intellectual expression, entered the cabin.
He nodded pleasantly to Dodger, and said:
"I suppose this is Arthur Grant?"
"Yes, sir," answered Dodger, for he had decided to adopt the name.