"Decided yet whether you will be a railroad man like your Dad, or a steamboat man like me?" went on the New Yorker facetiously.

"Not yet."

"Oh, for shame! It should not take you any time at all to decide a question like that," the capitalist a.s.serted teasingly. "What's hindering you?"

Stephen gave a mischievous chuckle.

"I can't decide until I have heard both sides," said he. "So far I know only half the steamboat story."

"I see! In other words you think that between here and New Haven I might beguile the time by going on with the yarn I began yesterday."

"That thought crossed my mind, sir,--yes."

"You should go into the diplomatic service, young man. Your talents are being wasted," observed Mr. Ackerman good-humoredly. "Well, I suppose I could romance for the benefit of you two boys for part of the way, at least. It will give your father, Steve, a chance to go into the other car and smoke. Where did we break off our story? Do you remember?"

"Where the United States said anybody had the right to sail anywhere he wanted to, in any kind of a boat he chose," piped d.i.c.k with promptness.

"Yes, yes. I recall it all now," said Mr. Ackerman. "The courts withdrew the grant giving Livingston the sole right to navigate the waters of New York State by means of steamboats. So you want to hear more about it, do you?"

"Yes!" came simultaneously from both the boys.

"Then all aboard! Tolman, you can read, or run off and enjoy your cigar.

We are going on a steamboat cruise."

"Push off! You won't bother me," was the tolerant retort, as the elder man unfolded the morning paper.

Mr. Ackerman cleared his throat.

"Before this decree to give everybody an equal chance in navigating the waters of the country was handed down by the courts," he began, "various companies, in defiance of Livingston's contract, began building and running steamboats on the Hudson. Two rival boats were speedily in operation and it was only after a three years' lawsuit that they were legally condemned and handed over to Fulton to be broken up. Then the ferryboat people got busy and pet.i.tioned the New York Legislature for the right to run their boats to and fro between the New York and New Jersey sides of the river, and it is interesting to remember that it was on one of these ferry routes that Cornelius Vanderbilt, the great American financier, began his career."

"I never knew that!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed d.i.c.k, intent on the story.

"After the ruling of the Supreme Court in 1818 that all the waters of the country were free there was a rush to construct and launch steamers on the Hudson. The route was, you see, not only the most direct one between Albany and New York but it also lay in the line of travel between the eastern States and those of the west which were just being opened to traffic by the railroads and ships of the Great Lakes. Now you must not for a moment imagine that in those days there were any such vast numbers of persons traversing the country as there are now. Our early Americans worked hard and possessed only comparatively small fortunes so they had little money to throw away on travel simply for its own sake; moreover the War of 1812 had left the country poor.

Nevertheless there were a good many persons who were obliged to travel, and it followed that each of the Hudson River lines of steamers was eager to secure their patronage. Hence a bitter compet.i.tion arose between the rival steamboat companies."

He paused and smiled whimsically at some memory that amused him.

"Every inducement was offered the public by these battling forces. The older vessels were sc.r.a.pped or reduced to tug service and finer steamboats were built; and once upon the water the engines were driven at full speed that quicker trips might lure pa.s.sengers to patronize the swifter boats. Captains and firemen pitted their energies against one another and without scruple raced their ships, with the result that there were many accidents. In spite of this, however, the rivalry grew rather than diminished."

"It must have been great sport," remarked Stephen.

"Oh, there was sport in plenty," nodded Mr. Ackerman. "Had you lived during those first days of Hudson River transportation you would have seen all the sport you wanted to see, for the steamboat feud raged with fury, the several companies trying their uttermost to get the trade away from the Fulton people and from one another. Money became no object, the only aim being to win in the game. Fares were reduced from ten dollars to one, and frequently pa.s.sengers were carried for nothing simply for the sheer spite of getting them away from other lines.

Vanderbilt was in the thick of the fray, having now acc.u.mulated sufficient fortune to operate no less than fifty boats. Among the finest vessels were those of the Emerald Line; and the _Swallow_ and the _Rochester_, two of the speediest rivals, were continually racing each other. The devices resorted to in order to ensnare pa.s.sengers were very amusing: some boats carried bands; others served free meals; and because there were few newspapers in those days, and only limited means for advertising, runners were hired to go about the city or waylay prospective travelers at the docks and try to coax them into making their trip by some particular steamer."

"That was one way of getting business!" laughed Steve.

"And often a very effective way, too," rejoined Mr. Ackerman. "In June of 1847 a tremendously exciting race took place between the _Oregon_ and the _Vanderbilt_, then a new boat, for a thousand dollars a side. The steamers left the Battery at eleven o'clock in the morning and a dense crowd turned out to see them start. For thirty miles they kept abreast; then the _Oregon_ gained half a length and in pa.s.sing the other boat b.u.mped into her, damaging her wheelhouse. It was said at the time that the disaster was not wholly an accident. Certainly there were grounds for suspicion. As you may imagine, the calamity roused the rage of the competing boat. But the commander of the _Oregon_ was undaunted by what he had done. All he wished was to win the race and that he was determined to do. He got up a higher and higher pressure of steam, and used more and more coal until, when it was time to return to New York, he discovered that his supply had given out and that he had no more fuel."

"And he had to give up the race?" queried d.i.c.k breathlessly.

"Not he! He wasn't the giving-up kind," said Mr. Ackerman. "Finding nothing at hand to run his boilers with he ordered all the expensive fittings of the boat to be torn up and cast into the fire--woodwork, furniture, carvings; anything that would burn. In that way he kept up his furious rate of speed and came in victorious by the rather close margin of twelve hundred feet."

"Bully for him!" cried d.i.c.k.

But Stephen did not echo the applause.

"It was not a square race," he said, "and he had no right to win.

Anyway, his steamboat must have been pretty well ruined."

"I fancy it was an expensive triumph," owned Mr. Ackerman. "Without doubt it cost much more than the thousand dollars he won to repair the vessel. Still, he had the glory, and perhaps it was worth it to the company."

"Were there other races like that?" d.i.c.k asked.

"Yes, for years the racing went on until there were so many fires, explosions and collisions, that the steamer inspection law was put through to regulate the conditions of travel. It certainly was high time that something was done to protect the public, too, for such universal recklessness prevailed that everybody was in danger. Boats were overloaded; safety valves were plugged; boilers carried several times as much steam as they had any right to do, and many lives had been sacrificed before the government stepped in and put a stop to this strife for fame and money. Since then the traffic on the Hudson has dropped to a plane of sanity and is now carried on by fine lines of boats that conform to the rules for safety and efficient service."

"And what became of Mr. Vanderbilt?" interrogated d.i.c.k, who was a New Yorker to the core and had no mind to lose sight of the name with which he was familiar.

"Oh, Mr. Vanderbilt was a man who had many irons in the fire," replied Mr. Ackerman, smiling at the boy's eagerness. "He did not need to be pitied for just about this time gold was discovered in California and as the interest of the country swung in that direction Vanderbilt, ever quick to seize an opening wherever it presented itself, withdrew some of his steamers from the Hudson and headed them around to the Pacific coast instead."

"And your family, Mr. Ackerman, were mixed up in all this steamboat rumpus?" commented Steve suddenly.

"Yes, my grandfather was one of the Hudson River racers and quite as bad as the rest of them," the man replied. "Nevertheless he was a stanch, clever old fellow, and because he did his part toward building up the commerce and prosperity of the nation I have always regarded him with the warmest respect. I do not approve of all his methods, however, any more than I approve of many of the cut-throat business methods of to-day which sometime will be looked back upon with as much shame as these have been. There are moments, I must confess, when I wonder if we, with all our supposed enlightenment, have made any very appreciable advance over the frank and open racing done by our forefathers on the Hudson,"

reflected he half-humorously. "Perhaps we are a trifle more humane; and yet there is certainly much to be desired in the way we still sacrifice the public to our greed for money. An evil sometimes has to come to a climax to make us conscious of our injustice. Let us hope that our generation will not be so blind that it will not heed the warnings of its conscience, and instead delay until some such catastrophe comes upon it as pursued the racing boats of the Hudson River."

CHAPTER XV

THE ROMANCE OF THE CLIPPER SHIP

It was with genuine regret that Mr. Tolman and Stephen parted from Mr.

Ackerman and d.i.c.k when the train reached New Haven.

"We shall not say good-by to d.i.c.k," Mr. Tolman declared, "for he is not to be very far away and I hope sometime he will come to Coventry and spend a holiday with us. Why don't you plan to do that too, Ackerman?

Run over from New York for Thanksgiving and bring the boy with you. Why not?"

"That is very kind of you."

"But I mean it," persisted Mr. Tolman. "It is no perfunctory invitation.

Plan to do it. We should all be delighted to have you. There is nothing in the world Mrs. Tolman loves better than a houseful of guests. Doris will be home from college and I should like you to see what a fine big daughter I have. As for Steve--"

"I wish you would come, Mr. Ackerman," interrupted the boy.

Mr. Ackerman hesitated.

"I tell you what we'll do," replied he at length. "We'll leave it to d.i.c.k. If he makes a good record at school and earns the holiday we will accept your invitation. If he doesn't we won't come. Is that a bargain, youngster?" he concluded, turning to the lad at his side.