Chapter XXIV.Florence In Suspense.
We must now return to New York to Dodger's old home.
When he did not return at the usual hour, neither Florence nor Mrs.O'Keefe was particularly disturbed.
It was thought that he had gone on some errand of unusual length, andwould return an hour or two late.
Eight o'clock came, the hour at which the boy was accustomed to repairto Florence's room to study, and still he didn't make his appearance.
"Dodger's late this evening, Mrs. O'Keefe," said Florence, going up tothe room of her landlady.
"Shure he is. It's likely he's gone to Brooklyn or up to Harlem, wid abundle. He'll be comin' in soon."
"I hope he will be well paid for the errand, since it keeps him solong."
"I hope so, too, Florence, for he's a good boy, is Dodger. Did I tellyou how he served the rapscallion that tried to stale my apples theother day?"
"No; I would like to hear it."
"A big, black-bearded man came along, and asked me for an apple.
"'You can have one for two pennies,' says I.
"'But I haven't got them,' says he.
"'Then you must go widout it,' says I.
"'We'll see about that,' says he.
"And what do you think?--the fellow picked out one of my biggestapples, and was walkin' away! That made me mad.
"'Come back, you thafe of the worruld!' says I.
"'Silence, you old hag!' says he.
"Actilly he called me an old hag! I wanted to go after him, but therewas two hoodlums hangin' round, and I knew they'd carry off some of myapples, when, just as I was at my wits' end, Dodger came round thecorner.
"'Dodger,' I screamed, 'go after that man! He's taken one of myapples, widout lave or license!'
"Upon that, Dodger, brave as a lion, walked up to the man, and, sayshe:
"'Give back that apple, or pay for it!'
"'What's that to you, you impudent young rascal?' says the man,raisin' the apple to his mouth. But he didn't get a chance to bite it,for Dodger, with a flip of his hand, knocked it on the sidewalk, andpicked it up.
"Wasn't the man mad just?"
"'I'll smash you, boy,' he growled.
"'I'm a baggage-smasher myself,' says Dodger, 'and I can smash aswell as you.'
"Wid that the man up with his fist and struck at Dodger, but he dodgedthe blow, and gave him one for himself wid his right. Just then upcame a cop.
"'What's all this?' says he.
"'That man tried to run off wid one of my apples,' says I.
"'Come along,' says the cop. 'You're wanted at the station-house.'
"'It's a lie,' says the man. 'I paid the woman for the apple, andthat young rascal knocked it out of my hand.'
"'I know the boy,' says the cop, 'and he ain't one of that kind. I'lllet you go if you buy five apples from the lady, and pay for 'em.'
"The man made up an ugly face, but he didn't want to be locked up, andso he paid me a dime for five apples."
"Dodger is very brave," said Florence. "Sometimes I think he is toodaring. He is liable to get into trouble."
"If he does he'll get himself out of it, never you fear. Dodger cantake care of himself."
Nine o'clock came, and Florence became alarmed. She had not been awarehow much she had depended upon the company of her faithful friend,humble as his station was.
Again she went into Mrs. O'Keefe's room. The apple-woman had been outto buy some groceries and had just returned.
"I am getting anxious about Dodger," said Florence. "It is nineo'clock."
"And what's nine o'clock for a boy like him? Shure he's used to bein'out at all hours of the night."
"I shall feel relieved when he comes home. What should I do withouthim?"
"Shure I'd miss him myself; but it isn't the first time he has beenout late."
"Perhaps that terrible Tim Bolton has got hold of him," suggestedFlorence.
"Tim isn't so bad, Florence. He isn't fit company for the likes ofyou, but there's worse men nor Tim."
"Didn't he send out Dodger to commit a burglary?"
"And if he hadn't you'd never made Dodger's acquaintance."
"That's true; but it doesn't make burglary any more excusable. Don'tyou really think Tim Bolton has got hold of him?"
"If he has, he won't keep him long, I'll make oath of that. He mightkeep him over night, but Dodger would come back in the morning."
Florence was somewhat cheered by Mrs. O'Keefe's refusal to believethat Dodger was in any serious trouble, but she could not wholly freeherself from uneasiness. When eleven o'clock came she went to bed veryunwillingly, and got very little rest during the night. Morning came,and still Dodger did not show up. As we know, he was fairly started onhis long voyage, though he had not yet recovered consciousness.
Florence took a very light breakfast, and at the usual time went toMrs. Leighton's to meet her pupil. When the study hour was over, shedid not remain to lunch, but hurried back, stopping at Mrs. O'Keefe'sapple-stand just as that lady was preparing to go home to preparedinner.
"Have you seen anything of Dodger, Mrs. O'Keefe?" asked Florence,breathlessly.
"No, I haven't, Florence. I've had my eye out watchin' for him, and hehasn't showed up."
"Is there anything we can do?" asked Florence, anxiously.
"Well, we might go around and see Tim--and find out whether he's gothold of him."
"Let us go at once."
"Shure I didn't know you cared so much for the boy," said Mrs.O'Keefe, with a shrewd look at Florence's anxious face.
"Why shouldn't I care for him? He is my only friend."
"Is he now? And what's the matter wid Bridget O'Keefe?" asked theapple-woman.
"Excuse me, Mrs. O'Keefe. I know very well you are my friend, and akind friend, too. I should not have forgotten you."
"It's all right, Florence. You're flustrated like, and that's why youforget me."
"I have so few friends that I can't spare one," continued Florence.
"That's so. Come along wid me, and we'll see what Tim has to tell us."
A short walk brought the two strangely assorted companions to theentrance of Tim Bolton's saloon. "I'm afraid to go in, Mrs. O'Keefe,"said Florence.
"Come along wid me, my dear, I won't let anything harm you. You ain'tused to such a place, but I've been here more than once to fill thegrowler. Be careful as you go down the steps, Florence."
Tim Bolton was standing behind the bar, and as he heard steps helooked carelessly toward the entrance, but when he saw Florence, hisindifference vanished. He came from behind the bar, and advanced tomeet her.
"Miss Linden," he said.
Florence shrank back and clung to her companion's arm.
"Is there anything I can do for you? I am a rough man, but I'm not sobad as you may think."
"That's what I told her, Tim," said Mrs. O'Keefe. "I told Florencethere was worse men than you."
"Thank you, Mrs. O'Keefe. Can I offer you a glass of whiskey?"
The apple-woman was about to accept, but she felt an alarmed tug ather arm, and saw that Florence would be placed in an embarrassingposition if she accepted. So, by an exercise of self-denial--for Mrs.O'Keefe was by no means insensible to the attractions of whiskey,though she never drank to excess--she said:
"Thank you kindly, Mr. Bolton. I won't take any just now; but I'llremind you of your offer another day."
"Have it your own way, Mrs. O'Keefe. And now, what can I do for youand Miss Linden?"
"Oh, Mr. Bolton," broke in Florence, unable to bear the suspenselonger, "where is Dodger?"