Tom Gordon was not only brave, but he was modest; and he hurried away fromthe swarming crowd as soon as he was free of the ferry-boat, for he foundit anything but pleasant to be looked upon and treated as a lion. Turningoff into one of the intersecting streets, the two lads walked along insilence, when Tom said,--
"Do you know, Jim, I'm half-frozen?"
The rattling teeth emphasized the question.
"I should think you would be. Here's a place of some kind; let's go in andhave something to eat, and you can warm yourself."
Jim led the way; and as he pushed open the green-baize doors, which workedon springs, he saw they had entered one of those nondescript shops, sonumerous in certain parts of New York, where a person can obtain any kindof alcoholic drink, a cigar, a lunch, a "square meal," or a night'slodging, or all.
Jim recognized the resort, and he would have withdrawn but throughsympathy for his shivering companion. The latter could scarcely stand fromcold, his clothing was soaked, and, in the keen air, had congealed sothat it rattled like tarpauling as he walked.
Just back from the door was a large stove, whose bulging, white-washedcylinder, gleamed red with heat.
Tom immediately stepped up to this and began to thaw himself out.
"Ah, that feels nice!" he laughed to his companion.
"Well, young man, what do you want in here?" asked the bartender, in asharp, business-like style, bustling from behind the counter with theevident intention of "bouncing" the lads.
"I want to get dry and warm," was the reply of Tom, from whose clothingthe steam was beginning to ascend.
"This ain't a shop to dry out boys. Why don't you go home?"
"We haven't any home."
"That's played; go where you stayed last night."
"That's near a hundred miles from here."
Two or three loungers laughed at the rather pert style in which Tom madehis replies, though in truth the lad meant no disrespect. The bartenderturned red in the face, and was angered at being taken up as he was.
"Hello, my wharf-rat, how did you get so wet?"
"In the water."
"He jumped off the ferry-boat to save a little girl," said Jim, seeingthe storm brewing, and desirous of putting in a good word for his friend.
This declaration was received with a guffaw, not one of the hearersbelieving a word of it.
"Jumped off to get away from the Bobbies," sneered the bartender. "If youdon't get out of here quicker'n lightning I'll hand you over to them."
"We can go out if you say so," said Tom, in the same good-natured manner;"but we came in to get our supper and stay all night."
"Have you got the stamps to pay for it?"
"If we hadn't we'd know better than to come in here."
"All right; my terms are a half a dollar apiece for supper and lodging."
"What is it with breakfast?"
"Seventy-five cents."
"We might as well pay you now."
And in his off-hand fashion Tom drew from his water-soaked pocket hisportemonnaie, remarking to Jim that they would arrange it betweenthemselves, and handed the exact change to the somewhat surprisedbartender and clerk.
That made a difference; and the servant became as obsequious as if he hadjust recognized in his visitor a millionaire that had dropped in to spenda part of his fortune with him.
The boys were hungry, as may be supposed, and they fell to eating like acouple of famished wanderers. Only a mouthful or two was swallowed whenJim exclaimed,--
"Hello, Tom; where did you get that gold chain?"
"What are you talking about?" demanded Tom, looking up at his friend.
"I'll show you;" and, as Jim spoke, he reached over and unhooked a tinygold chain from the upper button of his friend's coat, around which it wastwined in a singular manner.
More than that, there was a locket attached to it.
"That's the strangest thing I ever heard tell of," said Tom, as heexamined the chain and locket. "I never knew it was there till you spoke."
"You must have got it from that girl in the water, when you helped herout."
"That's so! Wait here till I come back!" and with this exclamation the ladsprang up and darted outdoors.
He was gone but a short time, when he returned.
"I've been down to the ferry-house to see whether I could find the womanand give her back her jewelry; but nobody there knows anything about her,and I'll have to keep it till I learn who she is."
On looking at the locket the boys agreed that it was the likeness of thegirl that had so narrowly escaped drowning. They admired it a long time,after which Tom carefully put it away, and they finished their supper.
The supper finished, the boys sat in the hot room until Tom's clothing wasfully dried, during which process the two were urged to drink fully ascore of times, Tom being assured by several that the only way to escape adangerous cold was to swallow a good supply of gin.
Like sensible lads they steadfastly refused, as they had never tastedspirituous liquors, and never intended to.
Finally, at a late hour, they retired to their humble room, where theywere speedily asleep.
On the morrow it was agreed that they would make this place theirheadquarters, while they looked up something to do. They could separateand spend the day in the search, and return to their lodging-house afterdark, both having fixed the location in their minds, and there beinglittle excuse for losing their way, even in such a vast city.
Breakfast was eaten early, and the friends separated, not expecting to seeeach other till dusk again. Both were in high spirits, for in the clearsunshine of the winter's morning the world looked bright and radiant tothem. The hurry and rush of Broadway, the crowds constantly surgingforward, each one seemingly intent on his own business, the constant rolland rumble of trade,--all so different from the more sedate city they hadleft behind.
All these were so new and novel to the lads, threading their way throughthe great metropolis, that they forgot their real business for a time, andfeasted their eyes and ears for hours.
Finally, they roused themselves and went to work. The experience of thetwo, for a time at least, was very similar. Tom first stopped in adry-goods house, and asked whether they could give him anything to do. Ashort "No" was the reply, and the proprietor instantly turned his backupon him. Then he tried a drug-store, where he was treated in the samemanner. In a hat and cap store, the rotund clerk tried to chaff him, buthe didn't make much of a success of it. In answer to his question, theclerk replied that he didn't need a boy just then, but when he did hewould send his carriage around to the Metropolitan for him.
When Tom timidly introduced his errand to an old gentleman in spectacles,as he sat at his desk in a large shipping-office, the old fellow exclaimedin an awed voice,--
"Great Heavens, no! I don't want to hire any boy."
And so it went, hour after hour, until the future, which had looked sobeautiful in the morning, gradually became overcast with clouds, and thepoor lad was forced to stop and rest from sheer weariness.
He kept it up bravely till night, when he started on his return to hislodgings. He found on inquiry that he was several miles distant, hiswanderings having covered more ground than he supposed. He had made overthirty applications, and in no instance had he received one grain ofencouragement. In more than one case he had been insulted and ordered fromthe store, followed by the intimation that he was some runaway or thief.
No wonder that Tom felt discouraged and depressed in spirits as he rodehomeward in the street-car. He was so wearied that he dropped down in onecorner, where he soon fell asleep, not waking until he had gone fully twomiles beyond the point where he should have left the vehicle. This sleepso mixed him up that it was nearly ten o'clock when he reached his hotel,as we may call it.
He was hopeful that Jim would have a better story to tell; but to hisamazement, he found that his friend, despite the lateness of the hour,had not yet come back. A shiver of alarm passed over Tom, for he wascertain
that some dreadful evil had befallen him.
Most likely he had been waylaid and killed in some of the hundreddifferent ways which the police reports show are adopted by the assassinsof New York in disposing of their victims.
Chapter X.