CHAPTER XXIV.

THE MAGNATES JOIN HANDS.

Just as the deck hands were hauling in the plank, Major Toppleton rushed down and leaped on deck. Probably he was not aware of the fact that Colonel Wimpleton was on board, or he would not have incurred the liability of seeing him. I concluded that he was nervous about the arrangements for the union of the two lines, and wished to see me in relation to them.

I had nothing to do till the steamer reached the North Shoe, and I sat down near the door of my state-room. Presently Colonel Wimpleton appeared on the hurricane deck, closely followed by the landlord of the hotel.

“Wolf, this little bill has just been handed to me,” said the magnate of Centreport, giving me the paper.

“What is it, sir?”

“Read it for yourself.”

“Captain Penniman will see that it is all right,” added the landlord, whose name was Sharp.

I glanced at the bill. It was so absurd that I could not help laughing. The charges were all for damage done to his house and furniture by the colonel, during his visit to the hotel. The items were as follows:--

To damage done to bed and bedding, $400 ” spilling ink, and spoiling carpet, 300 ” damage to bureau and chairs, 200 ” keeping still about it, 300 ----- $1200

“What do you mean by this, Mr. Sharp?” I inquired.

“I mean just what it says in that bill,” he replied, with a brazen face.

“Do you expect me to pay that bill?” demanded the colonel, indignantly.

“I will leave that to you, sir; but I think you will pay it, as much for your own sake as mine.”

“This is the most impudent piece of extortion I ever saw attempted,” added the magnate.

“Well, sir, if people will dance they must pay the fiddler.”

“Why, all the furniture in the room was not worth a hundred dollars,” said the indignant colonel.

“I don’t want to say much about the matter, Colonel Wimpleton. If you are not willing to pay the bill, I don’t care about arguing the matter. If you don’t pay it up, it won’t be my fault if people don’t know what took place in that room.”

The great man turned pale. The consequences of his debauch followed him in such humiliating demands as this bill.

“Why didn’t you put it all down under the last item of ‘keeping still about it’?” added Colonel Wimpleton; but he was alarmed at the threat of the landlord, and his speech was very mild.

“It is an outrageous imposition,” I ventured to say, when I found it quite impossible to keep still.

“That comes very well from you, Captain Penniman, after you have had your nest feathered,” sneered Sharp.

In my turn, I was abashed at this home thrust, though I could not believe that it was anything more than a supposition on his part.

“I never attempted to extort money from any person,” I replied. “I was with Colonel Wimpleton, and I say this bill is a swindle. I hope he will not think of such a thing as paying even a penny of it.”

“He can do as he thinks best,” the fellow doggedly replied.

“There isn’t a shadow of justice in it,” I added, as the colonel stepped into the state-room, and seated himself there, evidently to prevent any one from seeing him.

“He was the drunkest man that ever came into my house,” continued Sharp; “and, if he wants to keep it out of the newspapers, he had better pay up.”

“What’s the matter, Sharp?” said Major Toppleton, approaching the spot at this moment.

“Ah, I didn’t know you were here, sir!” exclaimed the landlord, with a start.

The major stopped before he came in front of the state-room door, and he did not see that his old rival was within. With the bill in my hand,--for I had not yet given it back to the colonel,--I beckoned the magnate of Middleport away from the dangerous locality.

“What’s the matter, Wolf?” asked he, mystified by my movement.

“Colonel Wimpleton is in that state-room,” I replied, when we had walked abaft the engine.

“Whew!” whistled he. “I did not know he was on board; but I wanted to see you about this union of the two lines.”

“He did not see you, sir; and Sharp has moved away from the door, so he will not tell him you are here.”

“I don’t care about meeting him just now,” laughed the major.

“I thought you would not, and so I beckoned you away. You know Sharp, the landlord?”

I knew he did, for I was aware that the major owned the hotel in Grass Springs, and had set Sharp up in his business.

“I know he is not the man I took him to be when I assisted him to his present position,” replied the major. “He seems to be excited about something.”

“Read this bill,” I added, handing him the document.

Major Toppleton opened his eyes as he examined the account.

“Is this a joke?” he asked.

“No, sir; Sharp actually demands twelve hundred dollars of Colonel Wimpleton. The last item is hush-money, but it all comes under that head.”

“The miserable scoundrel!” exclaimed the major, indignantly. “I am tempted to kick him.”

“He says the colonel was the drunkest man that ever entered his house, and, if he does not pay this swindle, everybody shall know it.”

“What if he was drunk? The man that sells him the liquor is not the one to condemn and expose him. I will give the scoundrel a lesson he will never forget. Sharp!” said he, as the landlord, who was pacing the deck rather nervously, passed within hailing distance of him.

“At your service, Major Toppleton,” replied Sharp, in cringing tones.

“What have you been doing? What does this bill mean?”

The wretch started when he saw the account in the hands of his powerful patron. Knowing the enmity which had so long existed between the two sides of the lake, and especially between the two great men, he would have counted upon the assistance rather than the opposition of Major Toppleton in any movement against his rival.

“Colonel Wimpleton came to my house the drunkest man I ever saw,” replied he.

“And you are going to swindle him for it!” added the major, severely. “Sharp, your lease expires in July; it will not be renewed. I will not tolerate such a scoundrel.”

“If you don’t think it is right--”

“Right! you villain! Is it ever right to swindle a man?”

“But it was Colonel Wimpleton, and--”

“No matter who it was. Colonel Wimpleton is a gentleman, and if he were a hundred times my enemy, I would stand up for him against any such miserable trick as this.”

“I won’t say anything more about it, Major Toppleton,” pleaded Sharp.

“But I will. I will go to every man within ten miles of Grass Springs, and tell him you are a liar, a swindler, and a scoundrel,” continued the major, much excited, as he shook his fist in the face of the landlord. “In this matter Colonel Wimpleton is my best friend.”

“Major Toppleton!”

To my surprise, Colonel Wimpleton stepped out from behind the engine, and walking square up to his old enemy, extended his hand to him.

“I was not aware that you were near,” said the major, rather startled.

“I offer you my hand, Major Toppleton,” said the colonel, his lip quivering with emotion.

“I accept it,” replied the magnate of Middleport.

[Illustration: THE MAGNATES JOIN HANDS.]

They grasped hands. If there had been any artillery on board the Ucayga, I should have fired a hundred guns in honor of this auspicious event. As it was, I called Van Wolter, and asked him to display every piece of bunting on the steamer. I was so delighted that it seemed to me I should “go up.” The young peacemakers had been at work for a year to bring about this result; but both of the great men had hung back. I did not consider that the reconciliation was actually made on the deck of the Ucayga. The major had been prepared for it for months, and the colonel from the time the steamer was hauled off the sands by the Ruoara. Neither had had the courage to approach the other, and I regarded the coming of the landlord as a fortunate event.

Sharp hung his head with shame, as he saw the magnates join hands. He had brought his bill to a bad market. I wondered whether Nick Van Wolter had not put him up to this trick. The fellow had boldly told me that my nest had been feathered, and no one but Nick had known about the check until it was drawn.

“Major Toppleton, probably you understand this matter now,” said the colonel, still trembling with emotion.

“I know nothing about it, except that this scoundrel was trying to swindle you. I have already told him his lease would not be renewed,” replied the major, still holding the hand of his old rival. “Whatever differences we have had, I know you to be a gentleman and a man of honor; and I would protect even an enemy from such a swindle as this.”

“I trust we shall no longer be enemies,” added Colonel Wimpleton.

“Not by my choice, certainly,” answered the major. “Our boys and girls have set us a good example. They have made peace among themselves, and we ought not to be behind them in this matter.”

I was obliged to go to the wheel, as the steamer was approaching the North Shoe; but I was so excited by the auspicious event which had just transpired, that I was afraid I should run the boat aground myself, as Van Wolter had done. But I had hardly taken my place at the wheel before both the major and the colonel entered, and continued their conversation. The unwonted sight of the two great men talking together on friendly terms had been noticed by the passengers, and they were gathering on the hurricane deck to witness the strange exhibition. The two gentlemen were annoyed by the interest manifested in their affairs, and retreated to the wheel-house to escape observation.

“I must beg you to retire to the captain’s state-room, gentlemen,” I interposed. “I am so interested in what you say, that I am afraid I shall run the steamer aground if I listen to it.”

I pointed to the door which opened from the wheel-house into the state-room, and they were considerate enough to retire.

“The world’s coming to an end,” said Van Wolter, standing opposite me at the wheel.

“On the contrary, I think it is only just beginning to exist,” I replied; and it did seem to me that we were all about to enter upon a new life--a life of peace.

“They have really made up.”

“They have indeed. I wish we had a twenty-four pounder on board,” I continued. “I would make a noise in honor of the event.”

“I have put out all the bunting we have, and it makes quite a show.”

“Everything will go right now, and the union will certainly be arranged,” I added.

“What union?” asked Van Wolter, who had had no hint of the negotiations in progress.

“The union of the two lines. In a short time, this boat will make two trips a day from Middleport to Hitaca, connecting with the railroad.”

“You don’t say it!” exclaimed Van Wolter.

“The two companies split on only one point. That will be arranged now.”

“I suppose one of the captains of the old boats will take this one, then,” added he, rather gloomily.

“Not at all. I am to be general agent for both lines, and you will remain in command of this boat.”

“Is that so?”

“I shall insist upon this arrangement. I never go back on a good friend.”

“You are a Christian, Captain Penniman.”

“I try to be one. You will have no more trouble about the Horse Shoe Channel. You must make yourself agreeable to your passengers, and I have no doubt you will be as popular as you deserve to be.”

As we approached the bend of the channel the conversation was discontinued; but, when I could leave the helm, I joined the magnates in the state-room.