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The Missing Tin Box; Or, The Stolen Railroad Bonds

Page 2

by Edward Stratemeyer


  CHAPTER II.

  A BRAVE YOUTH'S REWARD.

  A cheer arose from the by-standers.

  "Good for the boy!"

  "That's what I call a genuine hero!"

  "He deserves a medal."

  Paying no attention to what was said, Hal assisted the elderly gentlemanto his feet.

  "Are you hurt, sir?" he asked kindly.

  "I--I think not," was the labored reply. "That was a narrow escape,young man." The last with a gasp.

  "You are right, sir. How did you happen to go down?"

  "The snow made a slippery spot on the ice, I believe. My wind is almostgone."

  "Wait till I brush you off," said Hal, and taking off his cap hecommenced to strike off the snow and dirt from the gentleman's clothing.

  "Oh, never mind that," was the comment. "Come along with me. I don'tlike crowds."

  The gentleman caught the youth by the arm, and walked him towardBroadway.

  "You did me a great service," he went on, as the two stood on thecorner, opposite the post-office.

  "I didn't do much," replied Hal, modestly.

  "Don't you call saving my life much?" asked the man, with a smile.

  "Oh, I don't mean that, sir. But any one would have done what I did."

  "I'm not so sure about that. In New York it is every one for himself.What is your name?"

  "Hal Carson."

  "You live here, I suppose?"

  "No, sir."

  "Where then, if I may ask?"

  "I just came to New York not over half an hour ago. I intend to stayhere."

  The elderly gentleman looked puzzled.

  "I don't quite understand you," he said.

  "I came from a small place in Pennsylvania, sir, and I intend to try myluck here."

  "Ah! Are you alone?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Any friends here?"

  "No, sir."

  "Yes, you have."

  "I have?"

  "Yes--myself." The elderly gentleman laughed at his little joke. "No oneshall say he saved my life and I didn't appreciate it. So your name isHal Carson. Parents living?"

  "I don't know, sir." Hal blushed in spite of himself. "I was brought upat the poor-house."

  "Humph! Well, you are a manly looking chap and a brave one. Have you anyidea where you are going to obtain employment?"

  "No, sir. I intend to hunt around until I strike something."

  "You'll find that rather up-hill work, I fancy."

  "I didn't expect any snap, Mr.----"

  "My name is Horace Sumner. I am a broker, and have an office on WallStreet, near Broad. I am just returning from a visit to my sister, wholives in Morristown. Have you any sort of an education?"

  "I can read and write, and figure pretty well, and I've read all thebooks I could get hold of."

  "The reason I ask is because I think I may be able to help you to obtainemployment. I won't offer you money as a reward--I don't believe in suchthings."

  "I would not accept your money. But I would like work."

  Horace Sumner meditated for a moment.

  "Supposing you stop at my office to-morrow morning," he said.

  "I will, sir. What time?"

  "Ten o'clock."

  "And what number, please?"

  "Here is my card." Horace Sumner handed it to him. "Do you know whereyou are going to stop over night?"

  "I shall hunt up some cheap hotel."

  Mr. Sumner was about to say something to the effect that Hal couldaccompany him to his house and sleep in one of the rooms over the barn,but he changed his mind.

  "Let the boy hoe his own row. It will do him good," he thought tohimself.

  Horace Sumner was a self-made man, and he knew that self reliance is oneof the best traits a boy can cultivate.

  "I am going over to the Third Avenue elevated now," he said. "Remember,I expect to see you at ten sharp."

  "I will be on hand, sir," returned Hal.

  "Then good-night."

  "Good-night, Mr. Sumner, and much obliged."

  Hal watched the gentleman cross City Hall Park, and then started upBroadway.

  The brilliant holiday display in the show windows charmed him, and hespent fully two hours in looking at all that was to be seen.

  "Who knows but what I may go to work to-morrow, and then I won't getmuch chance to look around," he reasoned to himself.

  He was accustomed to work at the poor-house from six in the morninguntil eight or nine at night, and he did not know but what he would haveto do more in such a bustling city as New York.

  By ten o'clock Hal found himself tired out. The snow was now six inchesdeep and was still coming down.

  He turned from Broadway through Grand Street and presently found himselfwell over on the east side.

  "Good Beds for 25 Cents per Night."

  This was the announcement on a banner strung over the sidewalk, andafter reading it, Hal glanced at the building.

  It was rather a dingy affair, but to the youth direct from the Fairhampoor-house it appeared quite comfortable. He entered the office, andapproached the clerk at the desk.

  "I would like a room for to-night," he said.

  "A room or a bed?" asked the clerk.

  "I mean a twenty-five cent place."

  "Oh, all right. Pay in advance."

  Hal handed out a quarter. Then he was conducted to a long, narrowapartment on the third floor. There were eight beds in the room, six ofwhich were already occupied.

  To a person used to good accommodations this apartment would have almostdisgusted him. But quarters at the poor-house had been but littlebetter, and Hal did not complain. He managed to get a bed in one corner,and, as the window was slightly open, he slept very well.

  He was up and dressed at six o'clock and out on the street. The snow wasnow all of a foot deep, and Hal was much interested in the snow-plows onthe car tracks.

  As he passed down the street a snow-ball whizzed past the youth's ear.Another followed, striking him in the head. He turned, and saw a boyslightly taller than himself standing close at hand and laughingheartily.

  Instead of getting angry, Hal laughed in return. Then he picked up somesnow, made it into a hard ball, and let fly.

  The snow-ball took the other boy in the chest, and in his effort tododge he went over head first into a drift near the gutter. Hal burstout laughing, and then ran back and helped the stranger up.

  "Say, wot did yer do dat fer?" demanded the other boy, as soon as he wasonce more on his feet.

  "Tit for tat, you know," returned Hal. "I guess you're not hurt, areyou?"

  The stranger stared at Hal. He had never met with such a kindly answerbefore.

  "Hurt! o' course I ain't hurt," he returned, slowly.

  "You threw at me first, didn't you?"

  "Wot if I did?"

  "Nothing, only that's why I threw back."

  The stranger stared at Hal for a moment.

  "Who are you?" he asked, abruptly.

  "My name is Hal Carson. What's yours?"

  "Jack McCabe."

  Hal held out his hand.

  "I'm glad to know you. I just came to New York, and I only know oneperson here."

  "Git out! is dat so?" Jack McCabe shook hands rather gingerly. "Den yerain't one o' der boys, is yer?"

  "What boys?"

  "Der fellers around town."

  "Hardly."

  "Got work here?"

  "I expect to get work from a man in Wall Street."

  "Goin' ter be a broker, hey?" grinned Jack.

  "Here, get to work there, you lazy dog!" shouted a man from the insideof a near-by store, and Jack dropped his conversation and began to cleanoff the sidewalk with vigor.

  Hal walked on. He did not know under what exciting circumstances he wasto meet Jack McCabe again.

  Promptly at ten o'clock Hal presented himself at the number given him onWall Street. The sign over the door read Sumner, Allen & Co., Brokers.

  He opened the d
oor and entered. There was a small place in the frontpartitioned from the rear office by a counter and a brass grating.

  A man sat writing at a desk in the rear. He glanced at Hal, and seeingit was only a boy, went on with his work.

  Five minutes passed. Then the man swung around leisurely, got down fromhis stool, and came forward.

  As soon as Hal caught sight of the man's face he was astonished.

  It was Hardwick, the fellow whose conversation he had overheard on theferry boat the evening before.

 

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