To his uncle he said that he had made an arrangement
with some New York capitalists to go to Missouri,
in a land and railroad operation, which would at least
give him a knowledge of the world and not unlikely
offer him a business opening. He knew his uncle
would be glad to hear that he had at last turned his
thoughts to a practical matter.
It was to Ruth Bolton that Philip wrote last.
He might never see her again; he went to seek his
fortune. He well knew the perils of the frontier,
the savage state of society, the lurking Indians and
the dangers of fever. But there was no real
danger to a person who took care of himself.
Might he write to her often and, tell her of his life.
If he returned with a fortune, perhaps and perhaps.
If he was unsuccessful, or if he never returned—perhaps
it would be as well. No time or distance, however,
would ever lessen his interest in her. He would
say good-night, but not good-bye.
In the soft beginning of a Spring morning, long before
New York had breakfasted, while yet the air of expectation
hung about the wharves of the metropolis, our young
adventurers made their way to the Jersey City railway
station of the Erie road, to begin the long, swinging,
crooked journey, over what a writer of a former day
called a causeway of cracked rails and cows, to the
West.
What
ever to say be toke in his entente,
his
langage was so fayer & pertynante,
yt
semeth unto manys herying not only the worde,
but
veryly the thyng.
Caxton’s
Book of Curtesye.
In the party of which our travelers found themselves
members, was Duff Brown, the great railroad contractor,
and subsequently a well-known member of Congress;
a bluff, jovial Bost’n man, thick-set, close
shaven, with a heavy jaw and a low forehead—a
very pleasant man if you were not in his way.
He had government contracts also, custom houses and
dry docks, from Portland to New Orleans, and managed
to get out of congress, in appropriations, about weight
for weight of gold for the stone furnished.
Associated with him, and also of this party, was Rodney
Schaick, a sleek New York broker, a man as prominent
in the church as in the stock exchange, dainty in
his dress, smooth of speech, the necessary complement
of Duff Brown in any enterprise that needed assurance
and adroitness.
It would be difficult to find a pleasanter traveling
party one that shook off more readily the artificial
restraints of Puritanic strictness, and took the world
with good-natured allowance. Money was plenty
for every attainable luxury, and there seemed to be
no doubt that its supply would continue, and that
fortunes were about to be made without a great deal
of toil. Even Philip soon caught the prevailing
spirit; Barry did not need any inoculation, he always
talked in six figures. It was as natural for
the dear boy to be rich as it is for most people to
be poor.
