by Fred Thorpe
CHAPTER XXVI.
"DR. FERGUSON."
As may be imagined, Al was very tired when he boarded the train for NewYork. It had been a hard day for him; yet, though physically fatigued,he was mentally alert.
Next him sat a clerical-looking man of about fifty, who presentlyremarked:
"You got on at Rockton, young gentleman, did you not?"
Al, glad of the chance to speak to anyone, replied in the affirmative.
"I once had a charge there," went on the old man.
Al did not understand him.
"A charge?" he said, interrogatively.
"Yes; I am a minister of the Gospel."
"Indeed, sir?"
"Yes; I was pastor of the wealthiest church in Rockton. I left it toaccept a call to New York."
As this statement possessed no especial interest to the boy, he made noreply.
There was a silence of some minutes' duration. Then the old gentlemanbroke out with:
"May I offer you my card?"
At the same time he thrust a bit of pasteboard into Al's hand.
Upon it was inscribed the name, David Ferguson, D. D.
"I haven't a card with me, Dr. Ferguson," said the boy; "but my name isAllen Allston."
His traveling companion grasped his hand, and shook it with a remarkableexhibition of warmth, considering their short acquaintance.
"I am delighted to meet you, my young friend," he said. "Are you goingfar?"
"To New York, sir."
"Indeed! Then we shall be traveling companions for nearly three hours.How delightful!"
The prospect did not seem quite so delightful to Al; for, although hewas glad to have some one to talk to, he began to fear that the Rev. Dr.Ferguson might not prove a wholly congenial companion.
"Are you a resident of Rockton?" went on the doctor.
"No, sir."
"Only a visitor there?"
"That's all."
"Rockton is a beautiful place."
Al acquiesced.
"And you don't live there?" continued Dr. Ferguson.
"I do not."
"You were visiting friends?" questioned the old man, whose bump ofcuriosity seemed to be well developed.
"I was not, sir; I was there on business."
"On business! Really? You are quite young to be actively engaged inbusiness."
As this was a point upon which Al was a little sore, he made no reply.He was now quite willing to let the conversation end right there andthen.
But Dr. Ferguson would not have it so.
"What was the nature of your business, if I may ask?" he resumed."Pardon me, if I seem inquisitive."
"Well," said Al, with a sigh, "I don't know that I have any reason to beashamed of my business."
"I trust not, my dear young friend--I most sincerely trust that you havenot."
"I am connected with Wattles' New York Comedy Company."
Dr. Ferguson gasped for breath.
"You are an actor--at your age?" he cried.
Al laughed, a little sarcastically, it is to be feared.
"It isn't quite as bad as that," he said.
"Ah!"
"I am only the advance agent."
"And what, may I ask, is an advance agent?"
Al explained.
"It is not, then, quite as bad as I thought," said his companion.
"It might be a heap worse," responded the boy, laconically.
"But still," went on the reverend gentleman, "a position such as thatyou hold may lead to something worse. You may in time--pardon me, if Ihurt your feelings--you may in time become an actor."
"I guess not," said Al, who had some difficulty in repressing a smile.
"You cannot tell, my dear young friend; one wrong step leads to another,and once on the road to destruction, there is no knowing where or whenthe end will come."
"I hope I am not on the road to destruction yet," said Al, "and I feelpretty sure that I am not."
"Pride cometh before a fall, my dear young friend," said the doctor,impressively. "The moment you begin to be too sure of yourself, you havetaken the first downward step. You may not be conscious of it, but it istaken."
Al began to shift about uneasily in his seat.
"I know that what I say is not pleasant for you to hear," continued theold gentleman, "but I speak for your own good."
He then went on to deliver a long homily on the evils of theatricallife, and actually succeeded in tiring Al to such an extent that he fellasleep.
He was awakened by a voice shouting in his ear:
"This ain't a sleeping car, young man. All off!"
Al leaped to his feet, only half awake. The car was empty of everyoneexcept himself and a brakeman.
"Where are we?" he cried.
"In New York," was the reply. "Say, young fellow, you are a pretty soundsleeper."
"Well, I'm awake now," said the boy. "I'm sorry to have given you anytrouble."
"Oh, that's all right. But you haven't lost anything, have you?"
"No. Why?"
"I don't see your baggage anywhere?"
"I didn't bring anything with me."
"That's all right, then. I was afraid that duck in the seat with youmight have got away with your stuff."
Al laughed.
"That was a clergyman," he said--"the Rev. Dr. Ferguson."
"Reverend nothing," grinned the brakeman. "Say, young man, you must befrom 'way back."
"Why?"
"Why, that fellow is one of the cleverest confidence men in thecountry."
"Do you know what you are talking about?" asked the boy, in amazement.
"You can bet I do. Oh, he has fooled sharper ones than you or I. Youdidn't lend him anything, did you?"
"I did not."
"Nor invest in green goods or anything of that sort?"
"No."
"Well, you are one of the lucky ones, then. When I saw him giving you somuch chin music I thought he had you sure."
"Well, he didn't."
And Al left the car on very good terms with himself.
"Now, then," he mused, "I'll start in on the business that brought mehere. I'll go to the nearest police station first. I don't know where itis, so to save time I'll take a cab."
As he thus ruminated, he mechanically felt in his pocket.
The next moment he uttered an involuntary exclamation.
His money was gone, and so were his watch, and the ring that had beenpresented to him in Boomville.
He had not, after all, escaped scot-free from the "Reverend DavidFerguson."
