CHAPTER VIII BOARDING THE TETON

The much discussed private car arrived the following evening, too late to be loaded that day. But, as it was sidetracked near the Union Depot, Mr. Mackworth and the two boys were soon on the ground to look it over. When they came in sight of the long, heavy, maroon-tinted car, two colored men were just leaving it.

“Yaas sah, Ah is Nelson and Ah am de potah ob de Teton. Leastways Ah is gwine to be when she gits in commission. But Ah reckon yo’ kaint count this bein’ really in commission, not havin’ carried no passenjahs yit. Ah reckon yo’ all is de gemmen who is gwine gib de Teton her first trip—”

“We are,” said Mr. Mackworth. “Open the car and one of you stay in it if the other has occasion to do any sight-seeing or shopping—”

“Yaas sah, yaas sah,” responded Nelson. “We all jes’ been gwine to search yo’ out fo’ to gib yo’ dis letter from de supintendent. We’s bound to do dat—”

“And this?” went on Mr. Mackworth, turning to the other man and interrupting the talkative Nelson or “Nelse.”

“Dat, sah,” answered Nelse, “am Robert, sah. Mr. Robert Belknap. He’s de chef.”

Robert, being really twice as old as Nelson and with a little stoop in his shoulders, hair that had almost turned to white and the shiny look that always suggests the range, bowed and smiled. “Ah don’ tole you, boy, Ah better stay by dat cah—”

“It’s all right,” laughed Mr. Mackworth, “but remember, while you are with me, my friends and I are taking a pleasure trip—you boys are doin’ the work. I’ll arrange to let you play after you get back. Robert,” he continued, “you look as if you knew your business. I hope you do, for I’m particular. My butler is with me. His name is Jake—Jake Green. He’ll see you in the morning about stocking up. You’ll lay in provisions for not less than three weeks and Jake will help you with your list.”

“Dat Jake, he ain’t gwine to fuss ’bout de kitchen, is he?” began Robert at once.

Mr. Mackworth motioned to both Nelson and Robert to approach. Then he said: “Listen, both of you. Jake is my own servant. He’s goin’ to fuss around this car considerable and he’ll tell both of you boys what I want. If you don’t care to work with him the time to quit is right now.”

“We been ’signed to the Teton,” began Nelse.

“Ah got to ’count to de supintendent fo’ mah kitchen,” added Robert.

“And I’m payin’ both of you,” said Mr. Mackworth. “The minute you and Jake clash, something’s goin’ to happen. Jake’ll help both of you and, when I’m not on the car, he’s boss. Don’t make any mistake about that.”

“Yaas sah, yaas sah,” said Nelse slowly, as he opened the car door.

The car won the hearts of the boys even before they were aboard it. It was not an old-fashioned, private coach, resembling a sleeping car with a few staterooms and a kitchen attached. The Teton was a new idea, one of several cars then in construction to fill the demands of people of wealth who not only want comfort, but who want to carry ease and luxury into out-of-the-way places. The designers of the car called it a “hunter’s car,” although the hunters who could afford it were evidently not many.

The main feature of the car was that it was an entire train condensed into one compact coach. A little longer than the average sleeping car, it had a baggage compartment forward with doors wide enough to admit an automobile. In the forward part of this compartment were upper berths for two servants. There was also a ventilated kennel for dogs and plenty of space for ordinary baggage. Beneath this compartment and having access only from the outside of the car was a gasoline tank. In this baggage section the Loon was to be stored.

“It’s a good thing we saw it to-night,” exclaimed Frank as soon as they entered the baggage room. “We were counting on the ordinary baggage space. Now we’ll have to cut our plane sections down some more. But that’s easy—we’ll be aboard by noon to-morrow.”

“You see where your gasoline goes?” said Mr. Mackworth, who seemed a little proud of the beautiful car which was making its first trip.

“We’ll have five-gallon tanks of gasoline all over this car,” laughed Phil. “And if Nelse and Robert are goin’ to use these berths they’ll have to be searched each night for matches and pipes or something’ll happen.”

“That’ll be easy,” suggested Mr. Mackworth. “There are so few of us that there’ll be other sleeping accommodations for them.”

The rear of the car was rounded out in an observation extension resembling a room. Beyond the entrance steps adjustable curtains fell from the top of the car to the floor so that the sun, smoke and wind might be shut off on one side, leaving the other open for the view and air. The floor of the extension was of thick, maroon-colored rubber on which the chairs easily kept their position, even at the highest speed.

Just within the car was the real observation room. In a house it would have been called the living room. Here, extending the full width of the car, and about twelve feet long, was a room, decorated to please a sportsman’s eye. Against the forward wall was fastened an upright piano and in the center was an extension table. The decorations were western mountain and hunting scenes. Above the piano was a painting of Glacier Park, in Montana; and above this a mounted grizzly bear head.

“If dey’s ladies in de party,” explained Nelse, “dis is de place whar dey is sposed to have fo’ to be alone whilst de men folks is playin’ cards in de dinin’ room or smokin’ out on de poach.”

“Where does the piano come in?” exclaimed Frank.

“Wait till you hear Lord Pelton sing his English coster songs,” answered Mr. Mackworth. “I didn’t order it, but as it’s here don’t worry about it. I’ve seen many a time in camp out on the plains when a piano would have come in handy,” he concluded, laughing. “And, come to think about it, you play yourself, don’t you?” he added, looking at Frank.

“O, only enough to start Phil on his coon songs.”

“Good,” chuckled Mr. Mackworth. “That’s it—Pelton and Ewing, coster songs and ragtime—that’ll liven the evenings all right.”

Next to this compartment came three staterooms all located on the same side of the car with an aisle opposite them. Each contained two berths with space left for a steamer trunk, a table and washstand. The first and second rooms were connected, and between the second and third rooms was a bath. These rooms accommodated the party perfectly.

Next was the dining room, somewhat longer than the room containing the piano. There was a heavy, fixed table in the center and on each side of the room two upper berths. When not in use these berths could hardly be detected. When made up, however, they dropped much lower than the usual upper berth.

“Here,” explained Mr. Mackworth, “I think we’ll have to stow our servants if you don’t want them forward with the gasoline.”

This was at once decided on.

In one corner of this room was a desk and, in addition to the table chairs, there were other easy chairs. From each side of the room a luxurious looking couch could be drawn from the wall for daylight lounging or naps. The side panels in this room were photographs of mountain peaks and waterfalls. On the table were two immense standard lights shaded with a tint of maroon, in keeping with the tone of the car.

“With this,” suggested Phil, as Nelse snapped on the soft lights, “and Robert in the kitchen and Jake as steward, I think we ought to be able to make out.”

The dining and extra berth room ended in a narrow passage in the center of the car. On one side of the passage was Robert’s domain—a narrow and small but complete kitchen. Opposite was a lavatory for the servants and a storeroom for provisions and range charcoal.

“Pretty small,” suggested Frank as he stuck his head in the provision room.

“Land sakes, yo’ all ought to see de ice box underneath de cah. Yo’ kin shore carry enough food dar. If Mr. Green gwine fill up dat box he sho’ gwine do some buyin’.”

Beyond the kitchen was the baggage compartment. Every appliance in the car was the latest; every detail of decoration the work of an artist; and as Mr. Mackworth and the boys took their departure the latter kept looking over their shoulders as if to make sure it was not all a dream.

Mr. Mackworth, always doing the unusual, furnished a pleasant surprise for his friends the next day. While Frank and Phil were busy with the dismembered Loon, Jake Green was also at work. The boys did not meet Jake until nearly noon when they reached the car with a wagon load of crates. Mr. Mackworth’s “butler” was what is known as a “smart” colored boy. He arrived at the car at the same moment with a delivery wagon load of groceries. There was no introduction. Jake had some of his training abroad. He knew Frank and Phil and he assumed they knew him.

“I think, gentlemen,” he said at once, “that it would be better to put these small supplies aboard first. Then we can fill up the baggage car if you like.” Jake did not talk like a colored man and he did not wait for orders. “Then I’ll give you a hand stowin’ that stuff.”

Throwing off his natty, dark-blue coat, Jake turned up his immaculate shirt sleeves and in another moment, his fresh straw hat on the back of his head, had the delivery wagon at the car door. He gave no orders to Nelse—who was present sporting a stiff, white porter’s jacket—nor to Robert who also wore his badge of office in a chef’s cap; but in some manner, in a few moments, Nelse and Robert and the delivery clerk were busy handling the supplies while Jake had taken up the new job of assisting Frank and Phil to lay out the place for the airship crates.

The surprise was Mr. Mackworth’s change of plans as to a dinner party he was to give that evening to Mr. and Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Ewing and the boys. Instead of being at the hotel, it took place on the Teton. A little after noon the Loon, its attachments and the gasoline and oil had been compactly and snugly stored in the car. There was even room left for other supplies.

Jake Green had removed his bag to the car and taken charge with no signs of rebellion on the part of Nelse. This was partly due to the fact that Jake never seemed to give an order. He represented his employer in arranging the dinner and even before the boys were through the stowing of the monoplane they could see that the meal was to be no impromptu event. The car, new as it was, was swept and dusted throughout and the shades drawn. Then the silver and china and glassware were washed and polished—Jake carefully examining everything.

The Teton was to be attached to the midnight train for Chicago. Mr. Mackworth, Lord Pelton and Captain Ludington appeared on the scene of activity as the last airship box was being unloaded. Work stopped while all again examined the car. On the table in the end room stood a vase of fresh roses; by their side were all the late magazines, including several English ones; on a tray were Mr. Mackworth’s favorite cigars; for all of which Nelse, very important in his white jacket and all smiles, took entire credit.

Mr. Mackworth’s guests again protested at the luxurious surroundings; but their host, smiling as usual—for he never seemed happier than when giving others pleasure—dismissed their comments by saying:

“We’d better be comfortable while we can. You know we may be living on beans and pork in a few days. You may find it rough enough in the mountains.”

The boys smiled as they recalled the food that the experienced Jake had been storing away all day. They knew, also, that even if Mr. Mackworth left the car for a camping trip that he would provide just as liberally for comfort. This was apparent from the character of Mr. Mackworth’s camp equipage, which had just begun to arrive with the guns and other sporting paraphernalia.

On this inspection Captain Ludington and Lord Pelton were assigned stateroom number one; Mr. Mackworth took the adjoining room and the two boys were located in the last one. The drawn blinds and the fresh linen in each made the rooms most inviting. It was decided that the members of the party should move into the car at their convenience. To Frank and Phil this meant at once. As their parents were to dine with them leave takings at home were unnecessary.

When the airship demanded no more attention its young owners hurried home and secured the Graham automobile. For over an hour Frank and Phil rushed over the city on the usual last, almost forgotten errands. There were some farewells to be said; some small purchases of fishing tackle to be made and, of course, the buying of certain boys’ literature that Jake could not be expected to provide. Then home again, a hasty bath and the lads were ready for stateroom number three.

Captain Ludington and Lord Pelton arrived about six o’clock with their personal belongings. Mr. Mackworth came a little later, apparently with no baggage. But, a few moments later, a dray arrived with a heap of luggage that put Jake at his wits’ ends. Several telegrams were written; the depot master was called down to the car for a conference, and then Mr. Mackworth turned the affable host again.

Things were quickly getting in order in the car. Frank and Phil had unpacked and hung up their clothes. Their camp and outdoor luggage they had crowded into the baggage compartment. There, too, had gone most of the boxes of Mr. Mackworth and his guests. In the dining room Jake had assisted Nelse in arranging the table, on which was a bowl of white roses glowing beneath the two maroon shaded lights, while in the kitchen Robert left no doubt that he was busy. The subtle odor of cooking that escaped through the ventilator stole in through the window of the boys’ room.

“Some dinner to-night, I reckon,” suggested Phil.

At seven o’clock the guests arrived, Mr. Mackworth and his big cigar greeting them in the observation extension.