CHAPTER IX
THE MILLIONAIRE BOY
“And a mighty fine place, too,” said Jack.
“Looks like a museum,” added Fred.
“Aren’t the grounds magnificent?” went on Redfern. “That long line of columns at the side of the house is a pergola; then there are statues, and graveled walks, and beautiful flower beds.”
“Doesn’t look like any of the other houses around,” observed Aleck Hunt.
“No! The Colonel is an enthusiast on all things pertaining to ancient Greece, and built his house accordingly. Those of you who have seen pictures of the Parthenon at Athens will recognize the style.”
“Fine inside?” asked Fred.
“It is—more than fine. A bit beyond that wharf, Jack, is a good landing place; water’s pretty deep, and you can get in close. I think I’ll spruce up, now, and prepare for the Colonel.”
The “Gray Gull,” at full speed, was turned shoreward. The trees and houses were reflected in confused, wriggling patches in the listless water, as were several white motor boats, lazily swinging at their moorings.
Captain Jack navigated the craft skilfully, while Joe, with a piece of lead, kept sounding. Within easy jumping distance of the shelving shore they finally came to a stop, and the anchor rattled overboard.
“Now, what’s the program, Jack?” asked Aleck.
“We’ll explore a bit, while Norman visits the Colonel.”
“And if you hear loud calls for help, lend me a hand,” remarked Norman, with a faint smile. “The Colonel is a man of a more certain than uncertain temper, and, like the Colonel, it rises rapidly and eclipses all competitors. Well, boys, wish me luck.”
“You bet we do!” cried Jack. “Don’t let him worry you.”
“Keep your fists flying, first, last and all the time. Yes—we’ll be along here somewhere,” added Joe. “Don’t hurry, and do your best.”
“Wonder what the row was about,” murmured Aleck, as the slender figure of the former tutor went along the road.
“Ask me an easy one,” said Joe. “Norman doesn’t seem to want to talk about it much, does he? But he’s all right; I’d bet on that. Maybe the silly millionaire youngster——”
“Oh, give the poor thing a chance,” said Jack.
“How are we going to meet him, anyway?” asked Aleck. “It would look kind o’ funny for the whole bunch to go up to the front door——”
“Wait till Norman gets back,” advised Bob.
“But suppose the Colonel won’t listen, and fires him out—what then?”
“Oh, I’ll have to see George Clayton, and fix it up some way,” laughed Jack. “We must back Norman to the finish in this affair—eh, Joe?”
“That’s one of our jobs; but are we standing here for our health, or to ornament the landscape?”
“Right you are; let’s walk around a bit.”
Not far away, they found the principalstreet, running straight back from the river. At the foot of this was the ferry landing, and, as the group came up, the Tarrytown boat was swinging rapidly in.
“Solid-looking craft,” remarked Aleck.
“Has to be,” said Jack. “Guess it’s nearly four miles across, and once in a while they run up against some pretty bad storms.”
The boys found much to interest them. The neat dwellings, surrounded by pretty gardens; the stores, and a fire house, all claimed their attention.
At an automobile supply store, Jack left an order for an ample quantity of gasoline, to be delivered that afternoon.
The situation of Nyack is very charming, and the boys did not wonder that it has become quite a popular summer resort.
In about an hour, they were back at the house-boat, but Norman had not yet returned.
“Now, fellows,” remarked Aleck, “I’m going to finish that story about Joe Archer.”
“You had him at the Battery, last time,” grinned Joe.
“Yes, I know. It’s rich. Well, it was thisway: Joe Archer was strutting around in the park, with that great walk of his, when, all of a sudden, he saw——”
“Say, that chap’s a dandy rider,” interrupted Joe. “Sits on his horse like a little major.”
“And the horse is a crackerjack, too,” put in Tom.
A boy on a white saddle-horse was rapidly approaching along the road.
Suddenly, as his eye rested on the house-boat and group in front, he reined in.
“Whoa, there, Bucephalus, whoa!” he exclaimed. “Steady, boy—whoa! Hello, you chaps, what is that funny-looking thing, anyway?”
“What does it look like?” asked Joe, witheringly.
“Like an old log hut that had broken loose from somewhere, and floated somewhere else. Whoa, you cheeky beggar! Say—belong to you chaps, eh?”
“You guessed it the first time,” said Jack.
“Well, it’s the funniest-looking thing that ever floated around these parts. Ever see a horse dance before? Whoa, Bucephalus!Where’d you come from, and where are you going?”
“The ‘Gray Gull,’ from New York, bound to Albany; Jack Lyons, master,” said Joe.
“To Albany?” The boy whistled. “Jolly good distance—but what a dandy idea. Great Scott, I wish I could go on a trip like that! Take passengers?”
“We’ve taken one, already,” laughed Jack.
“How about another?”
“We might——”
“Well, don’t let your enthusiasm bubble over too much. But, say—honest, I am interested. Bucephalus won’t let me talk. Want to come up to the house a minute?”
“Where is it?”
“That big one, with the columns in front.”
The boys looked at each other in surprise, and Jack murmured, “Well, did you ever?”
“My name’s George Clayton,” the boy rattled on. “Coming?—good! Now mind—don’t back out.”
Next instant, Bucephalus leaped forward, George Clayton waved his hand to the boys, and galloped down the road.
“Well, doesn’t it beat the Dutch that weshould run into him like this?” mused Aleck. “Good-looking chap, too; but cheeky. Nice of him to invite us to the house, though. Shall we say anything about Norman?”
“Not at first,” advised Jack. “Guess we’ll meet him at the house, anyway; and if we don’t, leave the talking to me.”
When the boys arrived at the gate, and entered between the high, sculptured posts which stood on either side, horse and rider had disappeared back of the palatial Greek mansion.
Shrubbery and flower beds were strewn about with orderly profusion; cedars and other trees dotted the green, sloping lawn, and statues, mellowed in tone by contact with the elements, stood out sharply against the background. On the soft, languorous air floated the mingling scents of many flowers, and the sun-kissed paths, and shady nooks, and rustic benches were a delight to look upon.
Soon they reached the white-pillared pergola, heavy in the scent of grape-vines, with the thick masses of leaves flashing green and gold, and the graveled walk beneath streaked with purple shadows. On either side of a broad flight of steps leading to the terracearound the mansion were Greek vases mounted on high pedestals.
For several moments, the boys surveyed the handsome façade, with its six columns and sculptured reliefs in the tympanum above, and wondered how it must feel to live in such a place.
Then George Clayton, with undignified haste, appeared around a corner.
“I was afraid you chaps wouldn’t turn up,” he said, waving his hand. “Come along; I want to hear about that trip,” and his tone grew imperious, as if he were accustomed to having his commands obeyed.
The visitors, nothing loth, sprang quickly up the steps.
As they passed an open window, the sound of voices floated out. Apparently a rather animated discussion was in progress, and the lads exchanged furtive glances.
George Clayton, too, seemed interested. He paused for an instant; then, with a shrug of his shoulders, led the way toward a handsome stable and garage in the rear.
“I’ve got a workshop there,” he explained, “though it’s precious little work I do.”
“Greek workshop?” asked Joe, with a grin.
George looked at him quizzically.
“Smart—very smart boy,” he said. “I see your education has been attended to. Yes, everything Greek, here—except the automobile. Uncle Dan’s got a hobby for Greek stuff.”
As they entered the stable a short, slight man, with a dark, flowing moustache, looked up in surprise.
“Ma foi!” he exclaimed. “Master George, how you scare me—so many peepuls. Does monsieur, your uncle, want the automobile this afternoon?”
“Don’t know, Pierre,” answered George, and he bounded lightly up-stairs, followed by the four.
“That’s Pierre Dufour, our French chauffeur,” said the boy, when they had entered a room adjoining the hay-loft. “Speaks rather funny English; but I practice my French on him, and how the poor chap stands it I don’t know. Parlez vous Français?”
“Not on your life,” said Jack, with a smile.
“Et moi pas beaucoup, which means Idon’t know much either,” said the millionaire boy. “But never mind. Sit down anywhere you can. Honest, it’s funny to have a whole lot of fellows here and not know one of your names. But I’m always doing funny things; Uncle Dan says so, anyway.”
The boys quickly introduced themselves.
“You have a dandy place to work in,” said Jack.
“And such a fine room to sit around and read,” sighed Fred. “Got a lot of books, too.”
“Well, just keep away from ’em for once,” grinned Joe.
“But let’s hear about your trip,” said George, with a slightly impatient gesture. “I’m awfully curious; must be simply great.”
Jack explained, and George’s eyes began to sparkle.
“Well,” he said, with a long breath, “that’s just the kind of a trip I’d like to take. You see, fellows,” he went on, confidentially, “I’d like to rough it a bit, and forget all about mussing up my clothes and getting my handsdirty. You chaps may think it funny that I want to butt in, when I never saw you before; but you look like the right sort, and I guess we could get together all right. Hang it, I’m sick of having everything I want thrown at me. There—it’s out now. Knocking around does a chap a world of good.”
“Nothing better,” agreed Bob Somers.
“Well, will you take another passenger? I was going to Albany at the end of the week, anyway. I’ll pay you well.”
Jack glanced at his chums, and they nodded.
“Certainly,” he answered. “Never mind about the pay; but you’ll have to rough it a bit.”
“Didn’t I tell you that’s just what I want to do?”
“Perhaps your guardian will object?”
“I generally have a way of doing what I like,” said George, dryly; “though once in a while uncle puts up an awful kick.”
“We were going to leave this afternoon,” suggested Joe.
“I can easily catch up with you if your house-boat doesn’t put on too much speed,”laughed George. “Pierre can make that auto fairly hum. But come ahead, fellows, and take a look at the house.”
The interior of the Greek mansion, they found, was fully up to the standard set by the exterior. It was only two stories in height, but the rooms were large and imposing. A broad stairway led up to the gallery, at the four corners of which were blue and gold Ionic columns. The ornate railing was in the same scheme of color, while suspended from it were gorgeous draperies imported from China and Japan.
When George led the way into the atrium, a room of marble and mosaic, with a beautiful little fountain in the center, the boys opened their eyes with wonder. At both ends were statues and marble benches.
“Like it?” asked George.
“Well, I should say so,” answered Jack, with admiration in his tones. “Never saw anything to beat it.”
“Nor I,” added Fred Winter.
“Some of your friends, George?”
Turning, the boys saw a tall, well-built man with a military carriage surveying them witha questioning look. His hair and moustache were iron-gray. His aquiline nose and keen gray eyes would ordinarily have given him an air of sternness, but, at the present moment, this was greatly increased by his very evident look of annoyance.
“Never saw them until to-day, uncle,” replied George, cheerfully.
Colonel Ellison’s frown deepened.
“Never saw them until to-day!” he echoed, somewhat to the embarrassment of the house-boat boys. “How is that?”
“Uncle,” said George, without replying to his question, “this is Jack Lyons, of New York——”
“Jack Lyons—any relation to Mr. John Lyons, the New York lawyer?”
“My father,” said Jack, promptly.
“H’m.” The Colonel’s face relaxed somewhat. “I know him by reputation—a good lawyer and useful citizen,” he said, less stiffly.
Then, with a bow, Colonel Ellison turned abruptly on his heel.
“Uncle isn’t in a good humor to-day,” remarked George, calmly. “Something must have upset him.”
“Say, George,” whispered Jack Lyons, as they stood at the front door, “I want to tell you something—Norman Redfern is with us.”
“What!” cried the other, in the greatest surprise. “How in the dickens did you ever run across him? I want to know all about this.”
And linking arms with Jack, he led the way out to the pergola.
Jack briefly explained.
“Now I know what disturbed my guardian,” said George, with a low whistle. “Why didn’t you tell me at first?”
“Thought we’d let it go for a while,” grinned Joe.
“Well—Norman is a peach,” said George, slowly. “But Uncle Dan is awfully set against him, and I guess it didn’t do him a bit of good to come here. Too bad. Honest, I never knew what the row was about. I asked Norman, but he’s a sensitive chap, and grew red in the face, and stammered; and Uncle Dan said, ‘It’s not necessary for you to know, young man,’ and when he says ‘young man’ to me that ends it. But I’d stick up for Norman every time.”
“And so should I,” said Jack, warmly. “Wish we could help him out.”
“But how can we, when none of us even knows what it’s about?” said George, in a perplexed tone. “Jiminy, I’ll try to get him to tell me. Let’s go down to the house-boat.”
But Norman Redfern was nowhere to be seen, and, after waiting for some time, George took his leave.
“Remember, fellows, keep an eye open for a big gasoline tank and cushioned seats,” were his parting words.
“And now, Joe, what do you think of the millionaire boy?” asked Jack, when the former was out of hearing.
“He’s all right,” said Joe.