It was with genuine regret that Mr. Tolman and Stephen parted from Mr. Ackerman and Dick when the train reached New Haven.

"We shall not say good-by to Dick," 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 Dick. 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.

The boy flushed.

"It is a rather stiff one, sir," he answered, with a laughing glance.

"I think that's playing for too high stakes, Ackerman," Mr. Tolman objected. "It is a little rough to put all the burden on Dick. Suppose we divide up the responsibility and foist half of it on Stephen? Let us say you will come if both boys make good in their studies and conduct."

Dick drew a breath of relief at the words, regarding the speaker with gratitude.

"That is a squarer deal, isn't it?" continued Mr. Tolman.

"I think so—yes," was Dick's response.

"And you, Steve—do you subscribe to the contract?"

"Yes, I'll sign," grinned Stephen.

"Then the agreement is clinched," exclaimed his father, "and it will be the fault of you two young persons if we do not have a jolly reunion at Thanksgiving time. Good-by Ackerman! Good-by, Dick. Good luck to you! We are pinning our faith on you, remember. Don't disappoint us."

"I'll try not to," the boy answered, as he stepped to the platform.

"Dick is a fine, manly young chap," observed Mr. Tolman, after the train was once more under
way and he and Stephen were alone. "I have a feeling that he is going to make good, too. All he needed was a chance. He has splendid stuff in him. There isn't a mean bone in his body."

Stephen moved uncomfortably in his chair and a guilty blush rose to his cheek but apparently his father did not notice it.

"You liked Mr. Ackerman also, didn't you, son? Indeed there is no need to ask for he is a genius with young people and no boy could help liking a man of his type. It is a pity he hasn't a dozen children, or isn't the leader of a boy's school."

"He is corking at story-telling!" was Steve's comment.

"He certainly is. I caught some fragments of his Hudson River tale and did not wonder that it fascinated you. What a remarkable era that was!" he mused.

"There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask him," Stephen said.

"Such as?"

"Well, for one thing I was curious to know what happened after the steamers on the Hudson were proved a success."

"I can answer that question," replied his father promptly. "After the river boats had demonstrated their practicability steamships were built for traffic along short distances of the coast. Owing to the War of 1812 and the danger to our shipping from the British, however, the launching of these new lines did not take place immediately; but in
time the routes were established. The first of these was from New York to New Haven. You see, travel by steam power was still so much of a novelty that Norwich, first proposed as a destination, was felt to be too far away. It was like taking one's life in one's hands to venture such an immense distance from land on a steamboat."

Stephen smiled with amusement.

"But gradually," continued Mr. Tolman, "the public as well as the steamboat companies became more daring and a line from New York to Providence, with Vanderbilt's Lexington as one of the ships, was put into operation. Then in 1818 a line of steamers to sail the Great Lakes was built; and afterwards steamships to travel to points along the Maine coast. The problem of navigation on the rivers of the interior of the country followed and here a new conundrum in steamboat construction confronted the builders, for the channels of many of the streams were shallow and in consequence demanded a type of boat very long and wide in proportion to its depth of hull. After such a variety of boat had been worked out and constructed, lines were established on several of the large rivers, and immediately the same old spirit of rivalry that pervaded the Hudson years before cropped up in these other localities. Bitter competition, for example, raged between the boats that plied up and down the Mississippi; and in 1870 a very celebrated race took place between the Natchez and the Robert E. Lee. The distance to be covered was 1218 miles
and the latter ship made it in three days, eighteen hours, and thirty minutes. The test, however, was not a totally fair one since the Natchez ran into a fog that held her up for six hours. But the event illustrates the keen interest with which men followed the progress of American shipping; and you can see how natural it was that after the river boats, lake steamers, coastwise vessels and tugs had had their day the next logical step (and very prodigious one) was the—"

"The ocean liner!" ejaculated Stephen.

"Precisely!" nodded his father. "Now there are two separate romances of our ocean-going ships. The first one is of the sailing vessels and is a chronicle of adventure and bravery as enthralling as any you could wish to read. I wish I had time to tell it to you in full and do it justice, but I fear I can only sketch in a few of the facts and leave you to read the rest by yourself some time. You probably know already that whalers went out from Gloucester, New Bedford, and various of our eastern ports and often were gone on two or three-year cruises; and when you recall that in those early days there not only was no wireless but not even the charts, lighthouses, and signals of a thoroughly surveyed coast you will appreciate that setting forth on such a voyage for whale-oil (then used almost exclusively for lighting purposes) took courage. Of course the captains of the ships had compasses for the compass came into use just before the beginning of the Fifteenth Century and
was one of the things that stimulated the Portuguese and Spaniards to start out on voyages of discovery. The Spaniards built ships that were then considered the largest and finest afloat, and probably Columbus caught the enthusiasm of the period and with the newly invented compass to guide him was stirred to brave the ocean and discover other territory to add to the riches of the land he loved. It was a golden age of romance and adventure and the journeys of Columbus grew out of it quite naturally. But in America shipping had its foundation in no such picturesque beginning. The first vessel made in this country was constructed as a mere matter of necessity, being built at the mouth of the Kennebec River to carry back to England a group of disheartened, homesick settlers."
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