Jr. Horatio Alger

On Board The Parthia.

"Am I really on the Atlantic, bound for Europe?" said Ben to himself, as he paced the deck of the Parthia, then several hours out.

He found it hard to realize, for only a week before he had been in his quiet country home, wholly unconscious of the great change that fate had in store for him.

He was not unfavorably affected by the new sea-life. Instead of making him sick, it only gave him a pleasant sense of exhilaration. With Major Grafton it was different. He was a very poor sailor. He was scarcely out of port before he began to feel dizzy, and was obliged to retire to his state-room. He felt almost irritated when he saw how much better Ben bore the voyage than he.

"One would think you were an old sailor, instead of me," he said. "I have crossed the Atlantic a dozen times, and yet the first whiff of sea air lays me on my back, while you seem to enjoy it."

"So I do at present," answered Ben; "but perhaps my time will come to be sick. Can't I do something to make you comfortable?"

"You may tell the steward to bring some ginger ale," said the major.

Ben promptly complied with the major's request. He felt glad to do something to earn the liberal salary which he was receiving. It was not exactly acting as a private secretary; but, at any rate, he was able to be of service, and this pleased him. He had no complaint to make of Major Grafton. The latter saw that he wanted for nothing, and had he been the major's son he would have fared no better. Yet he did not form any attachment for his employer, as might have been thought natural. He blamed himself for this, when he considered the advantages of his position; but it was not so strange or culpable as Ben supposed. The boy saw clearly that, whatever might have been Major Grafton's motives in taking him into his service, it was not any special interest or attachment. The reader understands that Grafton had a purpose to serve, and that a selfish one. For Ben he cared nothing, but his own interest required that he should have a boy with him as a substitute for the one whose death he wished to conceal, and our hero filled the bill as well as any he could secure.

One day, while Major Grafton was in his state-room, enduring as well as he could the pangs of sea-sickness, a gentleman on deck accosted Ben:

"You seem to enjoy the voyage, young man," he said.

"Yes, sir; very much."

"You are not alone?"

"No; I am travelling with Major Grafton."

"Indeed!" said the gentleman, in surprise. "I didn't know the major was on board. Where does he keep himself?"

"He seldom leaves his state-room. He has been sick ever since he started."

"I remember meeting the major last summer in Switzerland. You were sick at the time, but from your present appearance I judge that you got bravely over it."

"I think you are mistaken, sir. I was not with Major Grafton at that time."

"You were not! That is strange. Surely there was a boy with him; I remember he called him Philip."

"He calls me so, but that is not my name."

"Do you mean to say that you were not with the major at that time?"

"I did not know there was such a man at that time."

"Humph! I don't understand it," said James Bolton (this was the traveller's name). "I do remember, however, hearing that the boy, then called Philip, died at Florence."

"I think that settles it," said Ben. "Whoever the poor fellow may have been that died, I am sure that it was not I."

"Are you Major Grafton's adopted son, or ward?"

"No, sir; I am his private secretary. That is, I was hired in that capacity, though as yet I have not had much writing to do."

"You are lucky. Take care you don't die, like the other boy."

"I will try to live, I assure you, sir."

"By the way, just mention my name to the major—James Bolton, of London. I dare say he will remember me. Just say that I occupied the room opposite his in the Hotel des Bergues, in Geneva, and that we went to Chamounix together. I should be glad to renew my acquaintance with him, whenever he feels well enough to come on deck."

"I will mention you to him, Mr. Bolton," said Ben, politely.

Our young hero took an early opportunity of keeping his promise.

On his next visit to the state-room he said:

"Major Grafton, I met a gentleman on deck this morning who wishes to be remembered to you."

"Who is it?" asked the major, quickly, raising his head from the pillow of his berth.

"He says his name is Bolton—James Bolton, of London."

"Don't know him!" said the major, shortly.

"He says that he was with you at the Hotel des Bergues, in Geneva, Switzerland, last summer; also that he went with you to Chamounix."

"What else did he say?" asked the major, who seemed unpleasantly affected by the mention of Bolton's name.

"He thought I was with you at the time."

"Ha! What did you say?"

"I told him he was mistaken."

"Don't tell these fellows too much; they are simply impertinent," said the major, with a frown. "What more did he say?"

"He said you had a boy with you whom you called Philip, and that this boy, as he afterward heard, died at Florence."

Ben looked inquiringly at the major, as if to obtain confirmation or denial of this story.

Major Grafton hesitated, as if not decided what to say.

"It is true," he said, after a pause. "Poor Philip died; but it is a painful subject. I don't like to speak of it. You resemble him very closely, and that was my chief object in taking you as a companion. I don't really need a private secretary, as you have probably found out."

"I wish you did, sir. I would like to do something to earn my wages."

"Don't trouble yourself on that score. It suits me to have a companion; I hate being alone. As long as you conform to my wishes, I will provide for you."

"Thank you, sir."

"But hark you, Philip! I don't care to have you talk too much to strangers about me or my affairs. Now, as to this man Bolton, I prefer that you should keep him at a distance. He is not a fit companion for you."

"Is he a bad man?" asked Ben, in some surprise, for Bolton had seemed to him a very respectable sort of man.

"He is a thoroughly unprincipled man," answered the major, emphatically. "He is a confirmed gambler, and is cultivating your society because he thinks you may have money. He is trying to lead you into a snare."

"Then I was deceived in him," said Ben, indignantly, for it didn't occur to him to doubt the positive statement of Major Grafton.

"Quite natural, Philip," said Grafton, pleased with having aroused the boy's suspicions of a man who might impart dangerous information. "Of course, I needn't suggest to you to keep the man at a distance. I do not care to have you come under his influence."

"I shall bear in mind what you say, sir," said Ben.

"I think I have checkmated this meddling Bolton," said the major to himself, in a tone of satisfaction.

When, a few hours later, Bolton approached Ben and asked: "Have you spoken to Major Grafton about me?" Ben coldly answered, "Yes, sir."

"Did he remember me?" questioned Bolton.

"Yes, sir."

"I thought he would. Are we likely to see him on deck soon?"

"No, sir, I think not."

Ben spoke so coldly that Bolton regarded him with a puzzled look. He could not help seeing that the boy did not care to continue the conversation, and, with a bow of farewell, joined another passenger in a promenade.

"I should like to have asked him a little more about the boy I am succeeding," thought Ben; but he respected the major's wishes, and kept aloof from Bolton for the remainder of the voyage.