On the steamer which left Bombay with Guy as a passenger he occupied one of the best staterooms, which had been selected by Mr. Saunders himself.

The voyage was a long one, and Guy had abundant opportunity to become acquainted with his fellow passengers.

Among them was a young Englishman, perhaps twenty-five years of age, named August Locke. The rest were old or middle-aged men, and it was natural that Locke and Guy should become more closely acquainted than the others.

On the first day, August Locke made overtures to Guy.

“I am glad,” he said, “that there is one young person on board besides myself. Suppose we become friends?”

“I shall be glad to know you better,” replied Guy. “I was beginning to feel lonesome.”

“You are English, like myself?”

“No; I am an American.”

“And traveling alone? Why, you can’t be much over sixteen!”

“That is my age.”

“It seems strange to me that a boy of your age should be traveling alone so far from home.”

“I sometimes wonder at it myself.”

“It can’t be for health, for you are fresh and blooming.”

“No. Suppose I say that it is on business?”

“Then all I can say is that you Americans begin life much earlier than we English. Why, at your age I was attending school in England.”

“What school did you attend?”

“The school of Dr. Peter Musgrave, not far from London.”

“I am very glad to hear it.”

“Why?” asked Locke, with a puzzled look.

“Because there is a boy at that school in whom I am interested.”

“An American boy?”

“No; a ward of my employer. He has received complaints that the boy is ill treated, and has sent me to inquire into the matter. If you can tell me something of the school I shall be very much obliged.”

“I can’t say much good of it. Dr. Musgrave is an ill-tempered man, of small acquirements, whose delight it is to tyrannize over the boys under his charge. I have received more than one flogging from him, wantonly inflicted, without my deserving it.”

“You would not send any boy there in whom you were interested?”

“Most certainly not!”

“Then I shall probably withdraw Vivian from the school.”

“You speak as if you were his guardian, and had full powers.”

“So I have; and I suppose I may call myself his guardian, since the responsibility has been given me by Mr. Saunders.”

“Are you speaking of the great Bombay merchant?”

“Yes.”

“He seems to repose a great deal of confidence in you.”

“He does,” answered Guy.

“This seems strange, since you are an American.”

“Yet you are disposed to be my friend,” said Guy, smiling, “in spite of this drawback.”

“True.”

“I will show you a letter written by the boy to Mr. Saunders, and you can give me your opinion of it.”

August Locke cast his eyes over the letter of Vivian Bell already quoted in a previous chapter.

“Poor chap!” said the young Englishman. “He does seem to be having a hard time of it.”

“Can you tell me anything about Simon Musgrave, the doctor’s son?”

“Not much. When I was at school he was a small boy in knickerbockers. He was old enough, however, to show that he was a chip of the old block, and inherited his father’s unpleasant traits. That he would bully a boy whom he disliked I can readily believe. I remember once giving him a thrashing for impertinence. I got flogged for it by the doctor, but I had the consolation of knowing that I had hurt Simon quite as much as his father hurt me.”

“I don’t think he would bully me.”

“You don’t look like a boy that would allow himself to be bullied. I suppose this Vivian Bell is a different sort of boy.”

“Yes; Mr. Saunders tells me that his father had a gentle disposition, and thinks the son may resemble him in that respect. His father was a clergyman.”

“That explains it.”

“I don’t think so. I, too, am the son of a clergyman; but I hope I have some spirit.”

“I am very sure you have. Anyone could tell that from your manner and bearing.”

“Did you continue at the school till your education was finished?”

“No. My father withdrew me, partly because the doctor got ‘down on me,’ as the saying is, and partly because he was led to think the pupils didn’t learn much.”

“I suppose you don’t revere the memory of your old teacher?”

“I have often wished that I could get hold of him and repay with interest some of the floggings which I received from him as a boy.”

Guy was glad to have obtained, before arriving in England, some information in regard to the school which Vivian Bell was attending. Now that he knew for certain that the complaints the boy made were justified, he was in a hurry to release him from the tyrannical rule under which he was suffering.

“When I go out to Dr. Musgrave’s school, Mr. Locke,” he said, “I wish you would come with me.”

“Perhaps I may; I should like to see the old place. My memories of it are not all disagreeable. Some of the boys were friends of mine, and I remember them with attachment. I am one who does not forget old friends.”

“I am sure not.”

“Then I should like to see the doctor again. When we parted I was a boy of fifteen, and I stood in fear of his superior strength. Now——” and he smiled as he rose to his full height and stretched out his muscular arms.

“Now, you would be more than a match for him,” suggested Guy.

“I think there is no doubt of that. I have been growing stronger, until I am much more powerful than he was at his best, while the years that have elapsed—ten—have probably diminished his vigor.”

During the voyage Guy and August Locke had many pleasant conversations. Guy learned that he was the nephew of a Glasgow merchant, and that his visit to Bombay had been on business.

“You are Scotch?” said Guy.

“My mother was English, so that I am only half Scotch.”

Among the passengers on board was another American, but he was a man of sixty. He seemed a cynical man, who, strangely enough, appeared to conceive a dislike for his young countryman.

Indeed, he had no sympathy with young people, whom he thought to be utterly destitute of judgment. His curiosity was excited by finding a boy of Guy’s age traveling alone, and he plied him with questions till he found out that he was in the employ of John Saunders of Bombay.

“Couldn’t Mr. Saunders find an older representative than you?” he asked, in an unpleasant tone.

“I have no doubt he might, sir.”

“Then he was a fool to confide his business to a mere boy.”

Guy was not offended, but he was amused.

“Do you know Mr. Saunders, sir?” he asked.

“I have met him—in a business way.”

“Did he impress you as a fool?” asked Guy, demurely.

Solon Johnson eyed the boy sharply. He was not quite sure whether he was being made fun of or not.

“I can’t call him that,” he answered, “for he has been successful in business and made a large fortune.”

“Yet he has appointed me his agent.”

“Yes, he has shown his folly there.”

“I suppose if you had known him well enough you would have dissuaded him from doing it?”

“I certainly should. I don’t mean any reflection upon you, young man, but it stands to reason that a boy of your age is unfit for any large responsibility.”

“Perhaps you are right,” said Guy, a little nettled, “but I shall endeavor to show that he made no mistake.”

“I can’t understand at all how such a man should have made such a blunder. Were you ever in business before you left America?”

“No, sir.”

“What could possibly have recommended you to Mr. Saunders?”

Guy could easily have satisfied his curiosity, but he did not propose to do so.

“We became acquainted, sir, and he employed me in his office in Bombay. So he had some opportunity of becoming familiar with my capacity for business.”

“What did he pay you?”

Guy felt that this was going too far. He did not care to gratify Mr. Johnson’s impertinent curiosity.

“You must excuse my answering that question, Mr. Johnson,” he said.

“Oh, well, just as you please. If you were in my office in Boston I should not think of offering you more than five dollars a week.”

“Then, sir, I think I shall hardly be likely to apply to you for employment.”

“I don’t think much of your countryman, Guy,” said August Locke, when they were alone.

“Nor do I, Mr. Locke. I wonder which is right in his estimate of me—Mr. Saunders or he.”

“Mr. Saunders, I am sure.”

“Thank you for your good opinion.”

At length the long voyage was over, and with a thrill of interest and excitement Guy stepped on the wharf at Liverpool.