The voyage was marked by no incident whatever. On arriving at New York Luscombe and Hugh put up at a good hotel for a few days before making a start west. They had agreed to keep together, at any rate for a time. Luscombe was several years older than Hugh, but he saw that the lad had plenty of good sense and a fund of resolution, and knew that he himself was more likely to stick to work in such companionship than he should be by himself. Luscombe's light-hearted carelessness amused Hugh, and though he did not think that his companion was likely to stick very long to anything he took up, he was very glad to have his companionship for a time. Hugh was thankful indeed when the next mail brought a batch of papers of a date a week later than that of his leaving Cumberland, and when a careful examination of the file disclosed no allusion whatever to the event at Byrneside.
"Well, I congratulate you, Hugh," Luscombe said when he told him. "I expected it would be all right. If he had been a good old man you would have killed him, no doubt, but bad men have always wonderfully thick skulls. Well, now you are ready, I suppose, to make our start to-morrow."
"Quite ready, Luscombe. We are only throwing away our money here."
They had already made many inquiries, and had settled that they would in the first place go down to Texas, and would there take the first job of any kind that offered itself, keeping it until they had time to look round and see what would suit them best. Luscombe, however, said frankly that he thought it probable that sooner or later he should enlist in the cavalry out west.
"I know I shall never stick to hard work very long, Hugh. I have not got my fortune to make, and I only want to pass away the time for a year or two until the old lady and the girls get the governor into a charitable state of mind again. He is a first-rate fellow, and I am not surprised that he cut up rough at last. I expect a few months will bring him round, but I should not know what to do if I went back. I will give myself three years anyhow."
"I am very much in the same position, Luscombe. I sha'n't go back until I come of age. Then I can snap my fingers at my uncle. I have got a very good trustee, who will look after the estate. I will write to him to-night and let him know that I am all right and very glad to find that uncle has not been killed, and that he may expect me when I come of age, but not before."
On the following morning they took their places in the train, and travelled west, and proceeded to what was then the nearest terminus to their destination Northern Texas. Travelling sometimes by stage-waggons, sometimes on foot, they arrived at M'Kinney, which they had been told was a young place, but growing fast.
"Well, here we are at last," Luscombe said as they alighted at a one-storied building, on which was a board roughly painted, "The Empire Hotel." "At any rate the scenery is better than it has been for the last two or three hundred miles. There are some good-sized hills. Some of those across the country ahead might almost claim to be mountains, and that is a relief to the eyes after those dreary flats. Well, let us go in and have a meal first, then we will look round. The place has certainly not an imposing aspect."
The meals here, as at the other places where they had stopped, consisted of fried steak, which, although tough, was eatable, and abundance of potatoes and cabbages, followed by stewed fruit. They had arrived just at the dinner-hour, and seven or eight men in their shirt-sleeves came in and sat down with them. The tea was somewhat better than that they had hitherto obtained, and there was, in addition, the luxury of milk. Scarcely a word was spoken during the meal. It was evidently considered a serious business, and the chief duty of each man was to eat as much as possible in the shortest possible time. After the meal was over, and the other diners had gone out, the landlord, who had taken his seat at the top of the table, opened the conversation.
"Are you thinking of making a stay here, gentlemen?"
"Yes, if we can get any work to suit us," Luscombe said.
"It is a rising place," the landlord said as he lit his pipe. "There are two stores and eight houses being built now. This town has a great future before it." Luscombe and Hugh had some difficulty in preserving their gravity.
"It is the chief town of the county," the landlord went on. "They are going to set about the court-house in a month or two. Our sheriff is a pretty spry man, and doesn't stand nonsense. We have an orderly population, sir. We had only two men shot here last week."
"That is satisfactory," Luscombe said dryly. "We are peaceable characters ourselves. And is two about your average?"
"Well, I can't say that," the landlord said; "that would be too much to expect. The week before last Buck Harris with three of his gang came in and set up the town."
"What do you mean by set up?" Luscombe asked. The landlord looked surprised at the question.
"Oh, to set up a town is to ride into it, and to clear out the saloons, and to shoot at anyone seen outside their doors, and to ride about and fire through the windows. They had done it three or four times before, and as four or five men had been killed the citizens became annoyed."
"I am not surprised at that," Hugh put in.
"The sheriff got a few men together, and the citizens began to shoot out of their windows. Buck Harris and two of his gang were killed and four of the citizens. Since then we have had quiet. And what sort of work do you want, gentlemen? Perhaps I could put you in the way of getting it."
"Well, we wanted to get work among horses," Luscombe said.
The landlord shook his head. "You want to go further south among the big ranches for that. This is not much of a horse country. If you had been carpenters now there would have been no difficulty. A good workman can get his four dollars a-day. Then there is James Pawson's woodyard. I reckon you might get a job there. One of his hands got shot in that affair with Buck Harris, and another broke his leg last week. I should say there was room for you there. Madden, that's the man who was shot, used to board here."
"What is your charge for boarding, landlord?"
"Seventy-five cents a-day for three square meals; a dollar a-day if you lodge as well. But I could not lodge you at present. I must keep a couple of rooms for travellers, and the others are full. But you will have no difficulty in getting lodgings in the town. You can get a room for about a dollar a-week."
"Well, let us try the woodyard, Luscombe."
"All right!" Luscombe said. "There is a certain sense of novelty about a woodyard. Well, landlord, if we agree with this Mr. Pawson, we will arrange to board with you, at any rate for the present."
They went down the straggling street until they came to a lot on which was piled a quantity of sawn timber of various dimensions. The name Pawson was painted in large letters on the fence. A man and a boy were moving planks.
"Here goes!" Luscombe said, and entered the gate.
"Want a job?" the man asked, looking up as they approached him.
"Yes. We are on the look-out for a job, and heard there might be a chance here."
"I am James Pawson," the man said, "and I want hands. What wages do you want?"
"As much as we can get," Luscombe replied.
Pawson looked them up and down. "Not much accustomed to hard work, I reckon?"
"Not much," Luscombe said. "But we are both pretty strong, and ready to do our best."
"Well, I tell you what," the man said. "I will give you a dollar and a half a-day for a week, and at the end of that time, if you get through your work well, I will raise it to two dollars."
Luscombe looked at Hugh, who nodded. "All right!" he said; "we will try."