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Fame and Fortune Weekly No. 2: Born to Good Luck; or The Boy Who Succeeded

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<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</h2></div> IN WHICH DICK TAKES A PARTNER, AND THE FIRM WINDS UP THE APPLE SPECULATION. Late that afternoon Dick Armstrong, feeling all the importance of a small capitalist, started out to locate the canal-boat Minnehaha. He found the rendezvous of those craft without much difficulty, but to pick out the particular boat of which he was in search was not quite such a simple matter. At length he found her, hauled up against the wharf, discharging the last of her cargo. Joe Fletcher was working like a good fellow, helping Captain Beasley’s regular deckhand, when he caught sight of his chum. “Dick, old man, I’m just tickled to death to see you again,” he exclaimed, grabbing Dick’s hand and shaking it as though he would pull it off. “We expected to see you yesterday, according to my calculations. How have you fared since you went ashore at Caspar’s?” “First class. I’ve news that’ll surprise you,” replied Dick, with sparkling eyes. “You don’t say.” “By the way, how about Constable Smock? Did he show up?” “Did he? I guess yes. He came up with us about eight miles below Caspar’s. Wouldn’t take our word that you had gone ashore, but insisted on searching the boat. Of course, Captain Beasley let him have full swing. After he had gone into every nook and corner that might have concealed you, he gave the job up and left, the maddest man I’ve seen for many a day. I was afraid he might get wind of you at Caspar’s and run you down; but it appears he didn’t. I’ll bet Silas Maslin and Luke ain’t feeling any too good over the constable’s failure to fetch you back,” and Joe snapped his rough, brown fingers and laughed gleefully. “You don’t think that Silas Maslin would come on to Albany on the chance of picking me up, do you?” asked Dick, with a shade of apprehension in his voice. “You ought to be better able to judge of that than me, Dick. You know what he is and what his feelings probably are on the subject. If I was you, I’d keep my eye skinned and not let him catch me, if he should come.” In a few minutes they knocked off work for the day, and while Joe was washing up, Captain Beasley came on board and greeted Dick in his usual breezy manner. He accepted the skipper’s invitation to supper, and when he made his appearance in the cabin was warmly welcomed by Mrs. Beasley and Florrie. Joe and the others were curious to learn the particulars of his journey from Caspar’s, though they had no idea that he had met with any particular adventure by the way. What he had to tell was therefore received with much surprise. “Gee!” exclaimed Joe, when Dick had finished his recital. “If that doesn’t read like a story-book! So the man actually gave you the wagon and the pair of horses?” “That’s what he did. The outfit is housed at McGee’s stables at this moment.” “What are you going to do with them? Sell them, I s’pose, ’cause you can’t take them with you on this boat.” “I haven’t decided what I’ll do yet,” said the boy, with a thoughtful expression. “And what about the load of apples?” asked Joe, interestedly. “I brought on forty bushels and sold them to half a dozen of the hotels just as soon as I struck town.” “Good for you! How much did you realize?” “One hundred and four dollars.” “No!” exclaimed Joe, in surprise. “That’s right,” nodded Dick, while his face lighted up with satisfaction. “That wasn’t a bad speculation, was it, Captain Beasley?” “I should say it was a very good one,” replied the skipper of the Minnehaha. “And I’ve got another one in my eye now that ought to pan out even better.” “What is it?” asked Joe, eagerly. “There’s a fine grove of walnuts and hickory nuts on that deserted farm, and they’ll be ready for picking just as soon as the frost sets in good and hard. They’ll fetch over two dollars a bushel in this town at wholesale. If there’s one bushel, I’ll bet there’s a hundred and fifty to be got.” “Great Scott!” almost shouted Fletcher in his excitement. “Let me in on this, will you, Dick? I’ll help you pick them at twenty-five cents a bushel, just for the fun of the thing.” “I was about to propose something of that kind, as I wouldn’t care to go out there all alone. You don’t know what a spooky place it is. I’ll take you in as a partner, Joe, and give you one-third of the profits. I’d make it even up, only the team costs something, and it’s only fair I should have a percentage for its use.” “A third is too much,” objected Joe. “It’s your discovery and your scheme. I’ll be perfectly satisfied with one quarter.” “No, Joe; it must be one third, or I’ll call the whole thing off and sell the team,” said Dick, resolutely. “All right, Dick; but I call it uncommonly liberal.” “Pooh! We’re chums, aren’t we?” “Sure we are.” “Then stop your kicking.” Captain Beasley, who had been an amused listener to the foregoing debate, now ventured a word. “You forget, Master Armstrong, that it’ll be some two or three weeks yet before you can gather those nuts. What are you going to do in the meantime, for of course, if you’ve determined on this plan, you’re not going down to New York on this boat.” “Oh, I’ve got an idea to cover that time,” said the boy, with sparkling eyes. “Another speculation, eh?” smiled the captain. “Yes, I dare say it is. Any risk that a person takes for the sake of expected profit is a speculation, I suppose.” “That’s about the size of it,” nodded the skipper. “But, first of all, I’d like to take a run out to that farm to-morrow and gather the rest of those harvest apples. There’s fully another load to be got, and if I don’t take them they’ll rot on the ground.” “I’m in this, too, am I, Dick?” asked Joe, anxiously. “Why not, if you’re willing?” “You can bet your suspenders I’m willing to go, all right.” “Then that’s settled. Do you mind if I bunk aboard here to-night, Captain Beasley?” asked Dick. “You’re welcome to sleep, and eat for that matter, aboard the Minnehaha as long as she’s here, young man. I admire enterprise in a fellow of your years, and you seem to be loaded to the hatches with it. If you aren’t a millionaire one of these days, it’ll be because the trusts we read about and the plutocrats have gobbled up all the wealth that’s lying around loose.” Soon after that, the two boys retired to the forward compartment of the hold and turned in, but they had so much to talk over and plan for the future that it was nearly midnight before they fell asleep. They were on deck at sunrise. Dick found lots to interest him before breakfast, in the panorama of the city’s water front, at least that section of it where the fleet of canal-boats was moored close inshore. After breakfast the lads bade Captain Beasley and his family good-bye, promising to look them up at the Water Street moorage when they reached New York. Dick then led the way to McGee’s stables, where he and Joe hitched up the wagon and started out. Having provided themselves with provisions and feed for the animals, they took the road back to the deserted farm, at which they arrived, without any adventure, late in the afternoon. They passed the whole of the next day in getting together a load. Thirty-five bushels about cleaned up all the good apples left. They passed a second night at the old rookery, as Joe called it, and on the following morning started early for Albany. Dick sold the entire load to a commission house for $95, but he and Joe had to procure the necessary number of barrels to hold the fruit in shape for shipment to New York. After paying to Joe his share of the profits, Dick found, expenses deducted, that his cash capital had increased to $175. <hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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