Bob Chester's Grit; Or, From Ranch to Riches

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XI

  BOB FAILS TO FIND MRS. CAMERON

  For a moment after the porter's offer to act as his guide in seeingChicago, Bob thought he would accept it, and accordingly they left theoffice together, the pass having been made out and delivered to the boy.

  When they appeared upon the street, however, the passersby stopped andstared at the curious pair--Bob, in his worn, ill-fitting suit, and thedarky, very black, clad in the latest fashion--with amazement.

  One woman, whose hair was tinged with gray, and whose aquiline features,severe clothes and general mien bespoke the spinster who always had timeto meddle in other people's affairs, exclaimed to the person nearesther:

  "There is certainly something wrong here. I feel it in my bones. Thatcolored person is taking this boy somewhere for no good purpose. I thinkit is my duty to interfere."

  "Oh, I wouldn't bother," returned the member of the throng whom she hadaddressed. "The boy seems to be going along willingly enough."

  "But I think it is my duty to make sure," persisted the officiousspinster. "My conscience will never be easy in the thought that perhapsif I had spoken, I might have saved the boy from some terrible fate."

  During this conversation, Bob and the porter had walked almost half ablock. But both of them had heard the first remarks, and as the would-berescuer set out in pursuit of them, Bob chanced to look back, and sawher coming, followed by several of the crowd who had first stopped towatch them in the hopes that they might be afforded some amusement fromthe woman's interference.

  Unwilling to become the cause of a street scene, Bob turned to hiscompanion, and said:

  "I--I guess, after all, it won't be necessary for me to trouble you togo about with me."

  "It will be no trouble, and Ah sho' am willing to do most anything foryou 'count o' that note you gave me for Massa Perkins."

  "Oh, that's all right," hastily returned Bob. "I was glad to do it. Ionly hope that it will be successful in letting you get back your job."

  "Ah think it will, but Chicago's a pretty big place, and Ah'm afraidsomething may happen to you so that you will miss your train. It goes inabout four hours. Is there any place particular you want to go?"

  "Yes, I was going out to South 101st Street."

  And Bob described the location of the apartment house where he expectedto find Mrs. Cameron, the sister of the waitress who had been so kind tohim.

  "Then you want to take this cyar. It runs right by the corner, and whenyou come back, you keep on it until you get to the Northwestern station,where you get your train."

  "All right, thank you!" exclaimed Bob, going out into the street to hailthe car that had been pointed out to him.

  The porter stood on the curb, evidently with the intention of seeingthat Bob got aboard without mishap, until turning his head he caughtsight of the sharp-featured woman, whose comment he had overheard.

  "Ma soul, Ah sure don't want to get in any argument with such a woman,"he muttered to himself, and bolted precipitately, soon losing himself inthe crowd of pedestrians.

  The flight of the porter seemed to confirm the woman's suspicions, butshe instantly realized that she could not hope to overtake the darky,and quickly determined to hail Bob.

  Rushing into the street, she cried in a shrill voice:

  "Little boy! Little boy!"

  Bob, however, had no relish for an interview with her, and quicklymounted the steps of the car and entered.

  Again the woman repeated her cry, but Bob paid no attention, and it waswith great relief that he heard the conductor pull the signal-bell forthe car to start.

  Determined not to be thwarted, the woman cried:

  "Mr. Conductor! Mr. Conductor! Stop that car!"

  But that individual had developed a deafness as sudden as Bob's and thecar continued on its way.

  For a moment the woman, her philanthropic intentions balked, stood onthe car track, but realizing that she was making a spectacle of herself,she returned to the sidewalk, where the gibing comments of those who hadwitnessed the scene caused her to blush with anger, and she was glad toescape the words of advice that were called out to her by entering thedoors of a convenient store.

  As soon as Bob found that his escape had been effected, he returned tothe platform.

  "I'm glad you didn't stop the car for that woman," said he to theconductor.

  "What's the matter, are you running away from her?"

  "No. I never saw her before."

  "Then why did she call you to stop?" asked the conductor, his toneindicating that he thought perhaps Bob might have picked her pocket.

  "I don't know. When I was walking along with that colored man, I heardher say she thought he was trying to take me somewhere I shouldn't go."

  Bob's evident lack of familiarity with Chicago and the circumstancesunder which he had boarded the car, aroused the conductor's curiosity,and he inquired:

  "Well, was he?"

  "No, he had just offered to show me about Chicago."

  And then Bob told enough of the story to convince the street-car manthat there was nothing improper about the occurrence, and that hesucceeded was evidenced by the comment of the conductor, as he said:

  "That's just like some women, always meddling in things they don't knowanything about. I'll tell you when you get to 101st street."

  Bob was deeply interested in the scenes through which he was passing,and it seemed to him that he had scarcely been on the car ten minuteswhen the conductor told him he had reached the street he desired.

  Leaving the car, Bob walked to the sidewalk, and then looked about himto get his bearings.

  Across the street stood the yellow brick apartment house the waitresshad mentioned, and as it was the only building of its kind thereabout,he made his way to it.

  Entering the vestibule, Bob scanned the names on the letter boxes forthat of Mrs. John Cameron, but though he looked them over three times,he could not see it.

  As he stood wondering what to do, a woman opened the door to come out.

  Deciding that she was probably one of the people who lived in thebuilding, Bob asked, taking off his hat, and bowing politely:

  "Can you tell me if Mrs. John Cameron lives here?"

  "No, she doesn't."

  "Well, she used to, didn't she?"

  "Yes, right across the hall from me, on the third floor, but she movedabout six weeks ago."

  "Do you know where she's gone?" cried Bob.

  "She's moved to Kansas City, but I don't know her address. Is thereanything particular you wanted of her?"

  "No--that is, I just had a message to deliver to her from her sister inNew York."

  "Well, I'm sorry that I can't give you the address in Kansas City. Youmight find it out, though, from the janitor, possibly," added the woman,and smiling at Bob, she continued on her way.

  For a moment Bob was undecided whether or not to ring for the janitor inorder that he might inquire about the address of the waitress' sister,and then realizing that there was no necessity for his so doing, heconcluded to go to the station and wait for his train.

  "It's a mighty good thing I met Mr. Perkins," said Bob to himself, as herode back downtown on the street-car. "If I hadn't, I suppose I wouldhave been obliged to go to work until I could get enough money to takeme to Oklahoma, and it would have been an awful disappointment not tofind Mrs. Cameron. But it's all right now; besides, I'm better off thanI would have been if she had been here, because I have a pass clear toFairfax, and her sister said her husband could only help me as far asKansas City."