LITMIR.BIZ

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man, of twenty-five, passing through the aisle, observed the vacant seat, and, pausing, inquired, "Is this seat engaged?"

      "No, sir," answered Tom.

      "Then, if you have no objection, I will occupy it."

      "Certainly, sir."

      The young man was nicely dressed. In his bosom sparkled a diamond pin, and he wore three or four rings on his fingers.

      "He must be rich," thought Tom, who was of an observant turn.

      "A pleasant day to travel," remarked the young man affably.

      "Yes, it is," said Tom.

      "Do you go farther than Pittsburg?"

      "Yes, I am going to California," answered Tom proudly.

      "Is it possible? Are you alone?"

      "Yes, sir."

      "You are young to travel so far."

      "I am sixteen; that is, I shall be in two or three weeks."

      "Still, you are young to take such a journey alone. Are you going to join friends there?"

      "No; I am going to seek my fortune."

      Once more the young man looked surprised, and scanned Tom curiously.

      "I presume you are from the city," he observed, with a smile which Tom would not have understood if he had noticed it. The truth is, that Tom bore evident marks of being a country boy. I don't like to say that he looked "green," but he certainly lacked the air that distinguishes a town-bred boy. His companion evidently understood boy nature, for Tom was much flattered by the supposition that he was a city boy.

      "No," he answered, almost as if apologizing for a discreditable fact; "I am from the country."

      "You don't say so!" exclaimed the other, in apparent surprise. "I thought, from your appearance, that you were from the city. How do you go from Pittsburg?"

      "By river to Cincinnati."

      "Do you really? I am glad to hear it; I am going there myself. We shall be fellow passengers. That will be pleasant."

      Tom thought it would. His companion seemed very pleasant and social, and he had been feeling lonely, as was only natural.

      "Yes, it will," he said.

      "By the way, as we may be thrown together, more or less, we ought to know each other. My name is Milton Graham. My father is a rich merchant in New York. I am traveling partly on business for my father's firm, and partly for pleasure."

      "My name is Thomas Nelson; most people call me Tom," said our hero.

      "Then I will call you Tom," said Graham. "I like the name. I have a favorite cousin named Tom. Poor boy! – he is an orphan. His father died two years ago, leaving him two hundred thousand dollars. My father is his guardian. He is about your age; only not quite so good-looking."

      Tom blushed. He had not thought much of his own looks, but he was human, and no one is displeased at being considered good-looking. Mr. Graham spoke meditatively, as if he was not intending to pay a compliment, only mentioning a fact, and Tom did not feel called upon to thank him for this flattering remark.

      "That is a great deal of money," he said.

      "Yes, it is. All my relations are rich; that is, except one uncle, who probably is not worth over twenty thousand dollars."

      Tom was impressed. A man who could talk of such a sum in such terms must certainly be very rich.

      "Do you know, Mr. Graham," he inquired, "how soon the steamer will start after we reach Pittsburg?"

      "No; but I can find out after we reach there."

      On arriving at Pittsburg, inquiry was made, and it was ascertained that the steamer River Belle would leave at nine o'clock the following morning.

      "We shall have to go to a hotel," said Graham.

      "Is there any cheap hotel here?" asked Tom prudently.

      "Yes; there is the Pittsburg House. Suppose we both go there."

      "All right."

      Mr. Graham had only a small carpetbag, smaller than Tom's. They took them in their hands, and walked for a short distance, till they reached a plain building, which, from the sign, Tom discovered to be the hotel which had been mentioned.

      "Shall we room together? It will cost less," said Milton Graham carelessly.

      "If you please," said Tom.

      He was lonely and thought he would like company. Besides, it would be cheaper, and that was a weighty consideration.

      CHAPTER VII.

      THE PITTSBURG HOUSE

      Tom and his companion entered the hotel. At the left was the clerk's desk. Milton Graham naturally took the lead. He took a pen from the clerk, and entered his name with a flourish. Then he handed the pen to Tom, who followed his example, omitting the flourish, however.

      "This young gentleman will room with me," said Graham.

      "All right, sir," said the clerk. "Will you go up to your room now?"

      "Yes."

      The porter was summoned, and handed the key of No. 16. He took the two carpetbags, and led the way up-stairs, for the Pittsburg House had no elevator. Even in the best hotels at that time this modern convenience was not to be found.

      The door of No. 16 was opened, revealing a plain room, about twelve feet square, provided, as Tom was glad to see, with two narrow beds.

      "Have you got a quarter, Tom?" asked Graham.

      Tom drew one from his pocket.

      Graham took it and handed it to the porter, who expressed his thanks.

      "It's always customary to fee the porter," he said carelessly, in answer to Tom's look of surprise.

      "What for?"

      "For bringing up the baggage."

      "Twenty-five cents for bringing up two small carpetbags! That's pretty high. I'd have brought them up myself, if I had known," said Tom, dissatisfied, for he felt that this fee was hardly in accordance with his resolutions of economy.

      "Oh, he expects it. It's his regular perquisite. When you've traveled more you'll understand."

      "How much are we to pay for our accommodations?" asked Tom anxiously.

      "About two dollars apiece, I reckon."

      "That's more than I can afford," said Tom, alarmed.

      "Perhaps it is less, as we room together."

      "I hope so, for I can't afford to be extravagant."

      "Do you call two dollars a day extravagant?" asked Graham, smiling.

      "It is for me. My father is poor."

      "Oh, it'll be all right. I'll fix it with the clerk. If you are ready, suppose we go down and have some supper."

      To this Tom had no objection. He washed his hands and face, and brushed his hair; then he declared himself ready.

      Tom was hungry, and did justice to the supper, which he found very good. As they left the table, and reentered the office of the hotel, Milton Graham said, "I am going to make a call on some friends. Sorry to leave you, but we shall meet later in the evening."

      "All right," said Tom.

      On the whole he did not regret being alone. He began to doubt whether Graham would make a desirable traveling companion. Tom felt the need of economy, and he saw that his companion would make it difficult. If a fee must be paid, it was fair to divide it; but the porter's fee had come out of Tom's pocket.

      "Didn't he have a quarter, I wonder?" thought our hero.

      It was a small matter, but economy must begin in small matters, or it is not likely to be practised at all.

      He took the opportunity to go to the desk and ascertain the sum likely to be charged for his accommodations.

      "How

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