Ned Wilding's Disappearance; or, The Darewell Chums in the City

by Anonymous

  CHAPTER XX

  IN THE LODGING HOUSE

  Ned felt around on the ground. He thought the valise might have slippedfrom the rope and rolled away into some corner of the yard. He got downon his knees and crawled about, looking among boxes and barrels, as wellas he could in the darkness. But the valise was gone.

  "Where in the world could it have disappeared to?" Ned asked himself. "Icame down within three minutes after I lowered it to the ground."

  There was a gate, opening from the yard to the street, and Ned decidedsome one had either seen or heard the valise drop and had slipped in andstolen it.

  "Now I am in a pickle," the lad murmured. "No baggage, not even a cleancollar, only a little over four dollars left" (for he had taken one fromhis pocketbook to leave for his room rent), "and I can't even tell thepolice I've been robbed. If I do they'll question me and find out I'mwanted for that stock matter. I certainly am up against it. But I guessI'd better get away from here. That detective may go to my room,discover that I've gone, and make a search."

  Ned peered out of the gate. The street was deserted at that moment. Witha hasty look up at the window of his room he had just left, and fromwhich the rope still dangled, Ned, in worse plight than he had beenbefore, hurried away. Once more he felt himself an outcast, without aplace to go.

  "When they see that rope they'll suspect I'm some sort of a criminal,"he reflected bitterly. "What a lot of trouble a fellow can get intowithout meaning it," he reflected. "This is the last time I'll ever buystocks or bonds on my own responsibility. I guess dad can managefinances until I learn the ropes a little better."

  He walked on, not knowing whither he was bound. He emerged from the sidestreet to one of the main thoroughfares. There he mingled with thecrowds, believing, that for the present at least, he was safe frompursuit.

  "But I've got to stay somewhere to-night," he told himself. "I can'twalk the streets forever. I wonder if there isn't some place where I canget a bed without having to answer a lot of questions about myself?"

  As he walked along an illuminated sign, on a building across the street,attracted his attention. It informed those who cared to know that theplace was the "Owl Lodging House," and that single beds could be had forfifteen cents a night, or a room including the privilege of a bath, fortwenty-five cents.

  "That about fits my pocketbook," Ned reasoned. "Twenty-five cents anight is cheaper than a dollar, and I've got to be saving. I wonder ifit's clean? It seems like living in a tenement house, but I s'pose lotsof men have to. I'll try it anyhow. If I don't like the looks of it Ican leave."

  He walked up the stairs. Certainly the place would not have taken aprize for cleanliness but then, Ned reflected, beggars must not bechoosers. He emerged into a big room, lighted by several gas jets, andseemingly filled with men in chairs who were lolling about in all sortsof attitudes. Some were asleep and some were reading newspapers. As Nedstood irresolutely gazing on the scene his thoughts were interrupted bya sharp voice.

  "Well, young man, do you want a room or a bed?"

  "Have you any rooms left?" asked Ned, turning to see a man staring athim from a small window in an office built against one side of theapartment.

  "Lots of 'em," replied the clerk of the lodging house. "Twenty-fivecents. Pay in advance. This isn't the Waldorf-Astoria."

  Ned handed a quarter through the half circular opening and received inreturn a key with a big brass tag.

  "Do I register?" asked Ned, hoping that he would not have to put downanother false name.

  "Register nothin'," the clerk replied. "They go by numbers here. Yoursis seventeen," and Ned, looking at the tag on his key, saw what theclerk meant.

  "I'm glad there's no thirteen in this," the boy thought. "How do I getto my room?" he asked.

  "Right along the corridor. You can't miss it. Go on until you strike theright number and go in. Do you snore?"

  "No. Why?"

  "Because there is a man in the next room to you who says he'll punch myface in, if I put any one near him who snores. It's all right. Go ahead.If you want a bath it's the last room at the end of the hall, but youhave to furnish your own soap and towels."

  "That settles the bath question," thought Ned; "that is unless I drymyself on a pocket handkerchief, and I guess I'd better save that."

  "Lock your door," the clerk called after him. "We're not responsible foranything stolen from the rooms."

  Ned had not expected much for twenty-five cents, and the small room, thelittle narrow iron cot, and the scanty supply of coverings did notdisappoint him. The room was merely separated from the others, in therow of which it was, by partitions that did not extend all the way tothe ceiling. Ned sat down on the chair and gazed about him. He couldhear men in the next rooms breathing heavily. It was rather chilly forthere was no fire in the bedrooms.

  "I can use my overcoat for a blanket," Ned inadvertently spoke aloud.The next moment a voice, from the room on his left startled him.

  "Hello, in seventeen!" called a man.

  "Well?" asked Ned.

  "Do you snore?"

  "No."

  "All right. If you do there'll be trouble. I'm a light sleeper."

  Ned wondered who his unseen questioner was, but he was too tired to caremuch.

  He undressed, and crawled into bed. His overcoat answered well for ablanket, and soon he began to feel warm and drowsy, in spite of hisstrange surroundings.

  He must have slept for several hours when he was suddenly awakened by apounding on his door.

  "What is it? Is the place afire?" he called, sitting up in bed.

  "Fire nothing! I want my money you took!" It was the voice of the manwho had asked him if he snored.

  "I haven't your money," Ned answered, thinking the man might be alunatic.

  "Yes, you have! You sneaked into my room and took it! I woke up just intime! Open the door or I'll break it down!"

  Ned sprang from his bed and turned the key. The door flew open and a bigman with a red moustache entered.

  "Give me my money!" he demanded, striding up to Ned.