The matter was discussed that evening, and before he retired, Randy penned a letter to the steamboat owner, stating he would come to Nyack two days later. The prospects ahead filled our hero with pleasure. The new position would enable him to see a little of the world and meet other people, and he was sure steamboat life would suit him thoroughly. He knew there would be plenty of hard work, handling freight and baggage, but this did not daunt him. "I'll try to do my best," he reasoned. "Then maybe Mr. Shalley will give me something better later on." Randy did not have many clothes, so there was not a great deal to pack. What he possessed was gone over by his mother, and then packed in a valise. Out of the money on hand he was given the price of his stage and railroad ticket and five dollars for other expenses. "I shan't spend only what is necessary," said he to his parents. Randy was glad to see that his father was improving. A good deal of the rheumatic pains had left Mr. Thompson and he could get around the house and the garden. It would be some time before he could go at carpentering again, but he could aid a good deal on the farm, which was something. All too soon for his mother came the time for Randy to depart. Mrs. Thompson kissed him affectionately and his father shook him by the hand. "Come back home if it doesn't suit you, Randy," said the mother. "Yes, come back, and we'll get along somehow," added his father. "I am sure it will suit me," said the boy. "I know the kind of a man Mr. Shalley is. We'll be sure to get along." Randy left home early in the morning and half an hour later was on the stage, bound for Leeville, where he was to take the train for Tarrytown, which is directly across the Hudson River from Nyack. His going away was done so quietly that not a dozen persons knew of his departure. The stage was but half filled, so he had plenty of room both for himself and his valise. Arriving at Leeville he had an hour to wait for the train and spent the time in walking around the little town. He had just passed one of the largest stores when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, to find himself confronted by Bob Bangs. "What are you doing here?" demanded the big boy, rather impudently. "What business is that of yours?" retorted Randy, not liking the manner in which he had been addressed. "Oh, you needn't answer if you don't want to," sniffed Bob Bangs. "I am going to Nyack." "To Nyack? What for?" "I am going to work for a steamboat owner." "Humph! Going to work on the river?" "Yes." "Cabin boy, I suppose," sneered the rich boy. "No, as a deckhand." "I thought so. It's a dirty enough job, and you are welcome to it." "It's honest work, and the money is clean," answered Randy, warmly. "Ha! What do you mean by clean money," demanded the big boy, suspiciously. "Just what I said." "Maybe you are trying to help spread that report that the Bartletts started about us," said the rich youth.