CHAPTER XII
AT THE HOTEL
There were confused shouts from the crowd. Several men rushed forward,in spite of the efforts of the officer to hold them back. Womenscreamed, and several fainted.
The horse was rearing and kicking, but Roy, plucky lad that he was,held on like grim death.
With one hand firmly grasping the bridle, he reached up with the other,and clasped the nostrils of the horse in a tight grip. This served toprevent the horse from breathing well, and, as his lungs needed plentyof air, on account of his fast run, the animal probably concluded hehad met his master.
"That's right! Hold him!" called a man. "I'll help you in a minute!"
"I guess I can manage him now," said Roy calmly. "There now, oldfellow," he went on, speaking soothingly to the horse. The animal washaving hard work to breathe. Roy saw this and loosened his holdslightly. Then he began to pat the horse, continuing to speak to it.The animal, which was more frightened than vicious, began to calm down.
"I've got him!" exclaimed the policeman, coming up and taking hold ofthe bridle.
"Oh, he's all right now; aren't you, old fellow?" spoke Roy, as herubbed the horse's muzzle.
Indeed the animal did seem to be. His dangerous hoofs were still, and,though he trembled a bit, he was quieting down.
"That was a fine catch, my lad," remarked one man. "Where did youlearn to stop runaway horses?"
"Out on my father's ranch in Colorado. This is nothing. We have arunaway every day out there. I've often caught 'em."
"Then the city ought to hire a few lads like you to give some of ourpolicemen lessons," went on the man, with a meaning glance at theofficer.
"Come now, move on. Don't collect a crowd," spoke the bluecoatgruffly. He was a little bit ashamed that he had not made an attemptto stop the horse, but it was due more to thoughtlessness than toactual fear. Besides, he first considered getting the women out ofharm's way.
"It was a brave act," went on the man. "I'd like to shake hands withyou, young man."
He extended his hand which Roy, blushing at the praise, accepted.
"Here, I want to get in on that," exclaimed another man, and soon asmany as could crowd around Roy were shaking hands with him, whilemurmurs of admiration were heard on all sides.
Meanwhile the lady in the cab was being assisted out by a gentleman.Then she took her little girl in her arms. The child spoke, in a highclear voice, that could be heard above the noise of traffic, which hadstarted up again, when it was seen that the runaway was stopped.
"Mother, is that the boy who caught the naughty horsie?"
"Yes, dear, mother wants to thank him."
"So do I, mother. And I want to kiss him for stopping the bad horsiethat scared Mary."
There was a laugh at this, and Roy blushed deeper than ever.
"Come on," he said to Mortimer De Royster, who had made his way to hisside. "Let's get out of this. Anybody would think I was giving aWild-West exhibition."
"Well, that's pretty near what it was. I never saw a runaway betterstopped, and I've seen some of our best policemen try it. Youcertainly know how to manage horses."
"Even if I don't know when I'm on a ferry boat," added Roy with alaugh. "But it would be a wonder if I didn't know something aboutcattle. I've been among 'em all my life."
"Excuse me, sir," spoke the lady who had been in the cab. "I want tothank you for what you did," and she extended her hand, encased in aneat glove.
Roy instinctively held out his hand, and then he drew it back. Henoted that it was covered with foam and mud, where the horse hadsplashed it up on the bridle which he grasped. He had not noticed thiswhen the men congratulated him. The lady saw his hesitation andexclaimed:
"What? You hesitate on account of not wanting to soil my gloves?There!" and before Roy could stop her she had grasped both his hands inher own, practically ruining her new gloves, for his left hand was moredirty than was his right. "What do I care for my gloves?" sheexclaimed.
"Can't I kiss the nice boy, mother?" pleaded the little girl, whom herparent had placed on the crosswalk, close beside her.
There was another laugh, but Roy was not going to mind that. Though hehad no brothers or sisters, he was very fond of children. The nextinstant he had stooped over and kissed the little girl.
Once more the crowd laughed, but in a friendly way, for Roy was a ladafter the heart of every New Yorker--brave, fearless, yet kind.
"I can't begin to thank you," went on the lady. "But for you, Mary andI might have been killed."
"Oh, I guess the horse would have slowed up pretty soon, ma'am,"replied Roy.
"Now don't make light of it," urged the lady. "I wish you would callat my home, and see us. My husband will want to add his thanks tomine. Here is our address."
She gave Roy a card on which was engraved the name, "Mrs. JonathanRynear," and the address was uptown in New York.
"The horse took fright when the cabman got down to get something for mein a store," she said, "and ran away before any one could stop him. Ican drive horses, but I could not reach the reins of this one, and Idared not let go of my little girl. Now I want you to be sure andcome. Will you?"
"Yes, ma'am," spoke Roy, and then, when Mrs. Rynear had shaken handswith him again, Roy managed to make his way through the crowd, and,accompanied by De Royster, he started up the street.
"Well, your entrance to New York is rather theatrical," observedMortimer De Royster. "You'll get into the papers, first thing youknow, really you will, my dear fellow."
"That's just where I don't want to get," said Roy quickly, as hethought that his mission might not be so well accomplished, if Mr.Annister read of the arrival in New York, of the son of the man whoseagent he was. "How can it get in the papers?"
"Why, the reporters are all over New York. They'll hear of this insome way, or the policeman will tell them. Besides, the policeman hasto report all such happenings on his post, and the reporters to go tothe police station in search of news."
"But how will they know I did it?"
"That's so. I don't believe they will, old chap. You didn't give thelady your name."
"No, and I'm glad of it."
"Why; don't you want any one to know you're in New York?"
"Well, not right away. I have certain reasons for it. Later it maymake no difference. But I guess the reporters are not liable to knowit was me."
"No, perhaps not. The policeman may claim the credit of stopping therunaway. Some of 'em do, so as to get promotion more quickly."
"It wasn't much of a job to stop that runaway."
"Wasn't it? Well, it looked so to me, and I guess it did to the restof the crowd. But you're all mud. The horse must have splashed you.However you'll soon be at your hotel. We'll take a train."
Still quite bewildered by the noise and confusion Roy followed DeRoyster up a flight of steps, not knowing where he was going. The nexthe knew was that his friend had dropped two tickets into the box of theelevated station, and they were waiting for an uptown train. Presentlyit came along, making the station and track rock and sway with thevibration.
"Come on," cried De Royster.
"Where are you going?" asked Roy, hanging back.
"On the elevated train, of course."
"It isn't safe!" exclaimed the boy from the ranch. "It is shaking now.It'll topple down! It needs bracing! Do you mean to tell me they runtrains up in the air, on a track, and they don't fall off?"
"Of course. Come on. It's safe, even if it does shake a bit. Italways does. There's no danger of it falling off. Next time we'lltake the subway."
"All aboard! Step lively!" cried the guard at the gate, and Roy, withsome misgivings, followed his friend.
The ride, on a level with the second-story windows of the buildings,was a great novelty to the boy from the ranch and he soon got over hisfeeling of nervousness in looking out at the strange sights on everyhand.
"Here we are!" e
xclaimed De Royster at length. "I'll take you to thehotel."
They got out, walked down a flight of steps, and soon were in front ofa good, though not showy hotel. In spite of the fact that it was notone of the most fashionable in New York, the magnificence of theentrance, with its rich hangings, the marble ornamentation, theelectric lights and the stained glass, made Roy wonder if his friendhad not made some mistake. It seemed more like the home of somemillionaire, than a public hotel.
"Go ahead; I'll be right with you," called De Royster, as he showed Royinto the lobby. "I want to speak to a gentleman a moment."
Somewhat bewildered, Roy advanced into the middle of the lobby, withits marble floor. Though he was not aware of it, he made rather aqueer figure, with his clothes of unstylish cut, his travel-stainedappearance, the mud on his hands and garments, and his general air ofbeing a stranger, totally unused to New York ways.
"Well, what do you want?" suddenly exclaimed the voice of a boy in auniform that seemed to consist of nothing but brass buttons. "We don'tallow peddlers in here!"