Sam Steele's Adventures in Panama. Baum Lyman Frank

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      We stared at him, somewhat perplexed.

      “Permit me to explain,” he went on, still gazing at me alone with his beseeching eyes. “I have invented an automobile – not strictly an automobile, it is true; but for want of a better name I will call it that. I have been years experimenting and building it, for it is all the work of my own hands and the child of my exclusive brain. It is now just finished – complete in every part – but I find that I have exhausted nearly every available dollar of my money. In other words, sir, my machine has bankrupted me.”

      He paused, and catching a wink from Mr. Harlan I said in an amused tone:

      “That is an old story, sir.”

      “You doubt it?”

      “No; I mean that it is quite natural.”

      “Perhaps,” he replied. “You see I had not thought of money; merely of success. But now that at last I have succeeded, I find that I have need of money. My only relative is a rich uncle living at Pasadena, California, who is so eccentric in his disposition that were I to appeal to him for money he would promptly refuse.”

      “Most rich men have that same eccentricity,” I observed.

      “But he is quite a genius commercially, and if he saw my machine I am confident he would freely furnish the money I require to erect a manufactory and promote its sale. I assure you, gentlemen,” looking vaguely around, “that my machine is remarkable, and an original invention.”

      We nodded. There was no object in disputing such a modest statement.

      “So I wish to get myself and my automobile to Los Angeles, and at the least possible expense. The railroads demand a large sum for freight and fare, and I have not so much money to pay. By accident I learned that your ship is going to the very port I long to reach, and so I hastened to appeal to you to take me. I have only two hundred dollars in my possession – the last, I grieve to say, of my ample inheritance. If you will carry us for that sum to your destination, I shall indeed be grateful for the kindness.”

      Really, I began to feel sorry for the poor fellow.

      “But,” said I, “I cannot possibly take you. We sail this afternoon and the hatches are all closed and battened down for the voyage.”

      “I do not wish the machine put in the hold,” he answered, with strange eagerness. “All I ask is a spot in which to place it on the deck – anywhere that will be out of your way. I will make it secure, myself, and take every care of it, so that it will cause you no trouble at all.”

      “I’m afraid you could not get it to the ship in time.”

      “It is already loaded upon a flat-boat, which will take it to the Gladys H. in an hour, once I have your permission.”

      I looked at him in astonishment.

      “You seem to have considered your request granted in advance,” I remarked, with some asperity.

      “Not that, sir; I am not impertinent, believe me. But I enquired about Captain Steele and was told that he is a good man and kind. So, that I might lose no time if I obtained your consent, I had the machine loaded on the flat-boat.”

      Mr. Harlan laughed outright. Acting upon a sudden impulse I turned to him and said:

      “May I decide as I please in this matter?”

      “Of course, Sam,” he replied. “It is your affair, not mine.”

      I looked at the stranger again. He was actually trembling with anxious uncertainty.

      “Very well,” I announced, “I will take you.”

      “For the two hundred dollars?”

      “No; I’ll carry you for nothing. You may need that extra money at your journey’s end.”

      He took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow, upon which beads of perspiration were standing.

      “Thank you, sir,” he said, simply.

      “But I must warn you of one thing. The bark is not in what we call A-1 condition. If she happens to go to the bottom instead of San Pedro I won’t be responsible for your precious machine.”

      “Very well, sir. I will take as many chances as you do.”

      “May I ask your name?”

      “Moit, sir; Duncan Moit.”

      “Scotch?”

      “By ancestry, Captain. American by birth.”

      “All right; make haste and get your traps aboard as soon as possible.”

      “I will. Thank you, Captain Steele.”

      He put on his cap and walked hurriedly away, and when he had gone both Mr. Harlan and my father rallied me on account of my queer “passenger.”

      “He looks to me like a crank, Sam,” said the agent. “But it’s your fireworks, not mine.”

      “Whatever induced you to take him?” Captain Steele enquired, wonderingly.

      “The bare fact that he was so anxious to go,” I replied. “He may be a crank on the automobile question, and certainly it is laughable to think of shipping a machine to Los Angeles on a freighter, around the Horn; but the poor fellow seemed to be a gentleman, and he’s hard up. It appeared to me no more than a Christian act to help him out of his trouble.”

      “You may be helping him into trouble, if that confounded cargo of yours takes a notion to shift,” observed my father, with a shake of his grizzled head.

      “But it’s not going to shift, sir,” I declared, firmly. “I’m looking for good luck on this voyage, and the chances are I’ll find it.”

      The agent slapped me on the shoulder approvingly.

      “That’s the way to talk!” he cried. “I’m morally certain, Sam, that you’ll land that cargo at San Pedro in safety. I’m banking on you, anyhow, young man.”

      I thanked him for his confidence, and having bade a last good-bye to my father and my employer I walked away with good courage and made toward my boat, which was waiting for me.

      Uncle Naboth was waiting, too, for I found his chubby form squatting on the gunwale.

      Uncle Naboth’s other name was Mr. Perkins, and he was an important member of the firm of “Steele, Perkins & Steele,” being my dead mother’s only brother and my own staunch friend. I had thought my uncle in New York until now, and had written him a letter of farewell to his address in that city that very morning.

      But here he was, smiling serenely at me as I approached.

      “What’s this foolishness I hear, Sam?” he demanded, when I had shaken his hand warmly.

      “I’m off on a trip around the Horn,” said I, “to carry a cargo of building steel to the Pacific coast in that crippled old bark, yonder.”

      His sharp eye followed mine and rested on the ship.

      “Anything СКАЧАТЬ