Joe's Luck; Or, Always Wide Awake

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  "Oh!" said Joe, a little startled, for he had been brought up tothink gambling wicked.

  "Better come and try your luck with me," said Hogan. "It is easierand quicker than sawing wood."

  "Perhaps it is," said Joe, "but I'd rather saw wood."

  "I suspect you are a young Puritan."

  "Perhaps I am," said Joe. "At any rate, I don't mean to gamble."

  "Just as you like. I can't afford to be so particular."

  "You don't seem to be very particular," said Joe.

  "What do you mean?" inquired Hogan suspiciously.

  "You know well enough," said Joe. "You know the way you had ofgetting money in New York. You know the way you tried to get it onboard the steamer."

  "Look here, young fellow," said Hogan menacingly, "I've heard enoughof this. You won't find it safe to run against me. I'm a toughcustomer, you'll find."

  "I don't doubt it," said Joe.

  "Then just be careful, will you? I ain't going to have you slanderme and prejudice people against me, and I mean to protect myself. Doyou understand me?"

  "I think I do, Mr. Hogan, but I don't feel particularly alarmed."

  Joe got up and went out in search of breakfast. Be thought of theplace where he took supper but was deterred from going there by thehigh prices.

  "I suppose I shall have to pay a dollar for my breakfast," hethought, "but I can't afford to pay two. My capital is reduced tofive dollars and I may not be able to get anything to do to-day."

  Joe finally succeeded in finding a humble place where for a dollar heobtained a cup of coffee, a plate of cold meat, and as much bread ashe could eat.

  "I shall have to make it do with two meals a day," thought our hero."Then it will cost me three dollars a day to live, including lodging,and I shall have to be pretty lucky to make that."

  After breakfast Joe walked about the streets, hoping that somethingwould turn up. But his luck did not seem to be so good as the daybefore. Hour after hour passed and no chance offered itself. As hewas walking along feeling somewhat anxious, he met Hogan.

  "Lend me a dollar," said Hogan quickly. "I'm dead broke."

  "Where has all your money gone?" asked Joe,

  "Lost it at faro. Lend me a dollar and I'll win it all back."

  "I have no money to spare," said Joe decidedly.

  "Curse you for a young skinflint!" said Hogan, scowling. "I'll geteven with you yet."

  CHAPTER XV

  THE FOILED ASSASSIN

  About four o'clock Joe went into a restaurant and got some dinner.In spite of his wish to be economical, his dinner bill amounted to adollar and a half, and now his cash in hand was reduced to twodollars and a half.

  Joe began to feel uneasy.

  "This won't do," he said to himself. "At this rate I shall soon bepenniless. I must get something to do."

  In the evening he strolled down Montgomery Street to Telegraph Hill.It was not a very choice locality, the only buildings being shabbylittle dens, frequented by a class of social outlaws who keptconcealed during the day but came out at night--a class to which theoutrages frequent at this time were rightly attributed.

  Joe was stumbling along the uneven path, when all at once he foundhimself confronted by a tall fellow wearing a slouched hat. The manpaused in front of him, but did not say a word. Finding that he wasnot disposed to move aside, Joe stepped aside himself. He did not asyet suspect the fellow's purpose. He understood it, however, when aheavy hand was laid on his shoulder.

  "Quick, boy, your money!" said the ruffian.

  Having but two dollars and a half, Joe naturally felt reluctant topart with it, and this gave him the courage to object.

  "I've got none to spare," he said and tried to tear himself away.

  His resistance led the fellow to suspect that he had a considerablesum with him. Joe felt himself seized and carried into a den closeby, which was frequented by thieves and desperate characters.

  There was a counter, on which was set a dim oil-lamp. There were afew bottles in sight, and a villainous-looking fellow appeared topreside over the establishment. The latter looked up as Joe wasbrought in.

  "Who have you there?" asked the barkeeper.

  "A young cove as don't want to part with his money."

  "You'd better hand over what you've got, young 'un."

  Joe looked from one to the other and thought he had never seen suchvillainous faces before.

  "What are you lookin' at?" demanded his captor suspiciously, "Youwant to know us again, do you? Maybe you'd like to get us hauled up,would you?"

  "I don't want ever to set eyes on you again."

  "That's the way to talk. As soon as our business is over, thereain't no occasion for our meetin' again. Don't you go to point usout, or----"

  He didn't finish the sentence, but whipped out a long knife, whichmade any further remarks unnecessary.

  Under the circumstances, resistance would be madness and Joe drew outhis money.

  "Is that all you've got?" demanded the thief.

  "Every cent," said Joe. "It won't leave me anything to pay for mynight's lodging."

  "Then you can sleep out. I've done it many a time. But I'll takethe liberty of searching you, and seeing if you tell the truth ornot."

  "Just as you like," said Joe.

  Joe was searched, but no more money was found.

  "The boy's told the truth," said his captor. "Two dollars and a halfis a pretty small haul."

  "I am sorry, gentlemen, that I haven't anything more. It isn't myfault, for I've tried hard to get something to do to-day, andcouldn't."

  "You're a cool customer," said the barkeeper.

  "I expect to be to-night, for I shall have to sleep out."

  "You can go," said his captor, as he opened the door of the den; "anddon't come round here again, unless you've got more money with you."

  "I don't think I shall," said Joe.

  When Joe found himself penniless, he really felt less anxious thanwhen he had at least money enough to pay for lodging and breakfast.Having lost everything, any turn of fortune must be for the better.

  "Something has got to turn up pretty quick," thought Joe. "It's justas well I didn't get a job to-day. I should only have had more moneyto lose."

  He had not walked a hundred feet when his attention was called to thefigure of a gentleman walking some rods in front of him. He saw itbut indistinctly, and would not have given it a second thought had henot seen that the person, whoever he might be, was stealthilyfollowed by a man who in general appearance resembled the rascal whohad robbed him of his money. The pursuer carried in his hand acanvas bag filled with sand. This, though Joe did not know it, was adangerous weapon in the hands of a lawless human. Brought downheavily upon the head of an unlucky traveler, it often producedinstant death, without leaving any outward marks that would indicatedeath from violence.

  Though Joe didn't comprehend the use of the sand-bag, his own recentexperience and the stealthy movement of the man behind convinced himthat mischief was intended. He would have been excusable if, beingbut a boy and no match for an able-bodied ruffian, he had got out ofthe way. But Joe had more courage than falls to the share of mostboys of sixteen. He felt a chivalrous desire to rescue theunsuspecting stranger from the peril that menaced him.

  Joe, too, imitating the stealthy motion of the pursuer, swiftlygained upon him, overtaking him just as he had the sand-bag poisedaloft, ready to be brought down upon the head of the traveler.

  With a cry, Joe rushed upon the would-be assassin, causing him tostumble and fall, while the gentleman in front turned round inamazement.

  Joe sprang to his side.

  "Have you a pistol?" he said quickly.

  Scarcely knowing what he did, the gentleman drew out a pistol and putit in Joe's hand. Joe cocked it, and stood facing the ruffian.

  The desperado was on his feet, fury in his looks and a curse upon hislips. He swung the sand-bag aloft.

  "Curse you!" he
said. "I'll make you pay for this!"

  "One step forward," said Joe, in a clear, distinct voice, whichbetrayed not a particle of fear, "and I will put a bullet throughyour brain!"

  The assassin stepped back. He was a coward, who attacked frombehind. He looked in the boy's resolute face, and he saw he was inearnest.

  "Put down that weapon, you whipper-snapper!"

  "Not much!" answered Joe.

  "I've a great mind to kill you!"

  "I've no doubt of it," said our hero; "but you'd better not attackme. I am armed, and I will fire if you make it necessary. Now, turnround and leave us."

  "Will you promise not to shoot?"

  "Yes, if you go off quietly."

  The order was obeyed, but not very willingly.

  When the highwayman had moved off, Joe said:

  "Now, sir, we'd better be moving, and pretty quickly, or the fellowmay return, with some of his friends, and overpower us. Where areyou stopping?"

  "At the Waverly House."

  "That is near-by. We will go there at once."

  They soon reached the hotel, a large wooden building on the northside of Pacific Street.

  Joe was about to bid his acquaintance good night but the latterdetained him.

  "Come in, my boy," he said. "You have done me a great service. Imust know more of you."

  CHAPTER XVI

  JOE'S NEW FRIEND

  "Come up to my room," said the stranger.

  He obtained a candle at the office, gas not being used in SanFrancisco at that time, and led the way to a small chamber on thesecond floor.

  "Now, sit down, my boy, and tell me your name."

  "Joseph Mason."

  "How long have you been here?"

  "Less than a week."

  "I only arrived yesterday. But for your help, my residence mighthave been a brief one."

  "I am glad I have been able to be of service to you."

  "You were a friend in need, and a friend in need is a friend indeed.It is only fair that I should be a friend to you. It's a poor rulethat doesn't work both ways."

  Joe was favorably impressed with the speaker's appearance. He was aman of middle height, rather stout, with a florid complexion, and anopen, friendly face.

  "Thank you, sir," he said, "I need a friend, and shall be glad ofyour friendship."

  "Then here's my hand. Take it, and let us ratify our friendship."

  Joe took the proffered hand and shook it cordially.

  "My name is George Morgan," said the stranger. "I came fromPhiladelphia. Now we know each other. Where are you staying?"

  Joe's face flushed and he looked embarrassed.

  "Just before I came up with you," he answered, thinking franknessbest, "I was robbed of two dollars and a half, all the money I had inthis world. I shall have to stop in the streets to-night."

  "Not if I know it," said Morgan emphatically. "This bed isn't verylarge, but you are welcome to a share of it. To-morrow we will formour plans."

  "Shan't I inconvenience you, sir?" asked Joe.

  "Not a bit," answered Morgan heartily.

  "Then I will stay, sir, and thank you. After the adventure I havehad to-night, I shouldn't enjoy being out in the streets."

  "Tell me how you came to be robbed. Was it by the same man who madethe attack upon me?"

  "No, sir. I wish it had been, as then I should feel even with him.It was a man that looked very much like him, though."

  Joe gave an account of the robbery, to which his new friend listenedwith attention.

  "Evidently," he said, "the street we were in is not a very safe one.Have you had any supper?"

  "Oh, yes, sir. Luckily, I got that and paid for it before I had mymoney taken."

  "Good. Now, as I am tired, I will go to bed, and you can follow whenyou feel inclined."

  "I will go now, sir. I have been walking the streets all day, insearch of work, and, though I found none, I am tired, all the same."

  They woke up at seven o'clock.

  "How did you rest, Joe?" asked George Morgan.

  "Very well, sir."

  "Do you feel ready for breakfast?"

  "As soon as I can earn money enough to pay for it."

  "Don't trouble yourself about that. You are going to breakfast withme."

  "You are very kind, Mr. Morgan, but I wish you had some work for meto do, so that I could pay you."

  "That may come after awhile. It might not be safe to delay yourbreakfast till you could pay for it. Remember, you have done me agreat service, which fifty breakfasts couldn't pay for."

  "Don't think of that, Mr. Morgan," said Joe modestly. "Anybody woulddo what I did."

  "I am not sure whether everybody would have the courage. But youmust leave me to show my appreciation of your services in my own way."

  They took breakfast in the hotel and walked out.

  Though it was early, the town was already astir. People got up earlyin those days. Building was going on here and there. Draymen werepiloting heavy loads through the streets--rough enough in generalappearance, but drawn from very unlikely social grades.

  "By Jove!" said Morgan, in surprise, his glance resting on a youngman of twenty-five, who was in command of a dray. "Do you hear thatdrayman?"

  "Is he a foreigner?" asked Joe. "I don't understand what he issaying."

  "He is talking to his horse in Greek, quoting from Homer. Look here,my friend!" he said, hailing the drayman.

  "What is it, sir?" said the young man courteously.

  "Didn't I hear you quoting Greek just now?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "How happens it that a classical scholar like you finds himself insuch a position?"

  The young man smiled.

  "How much do you think I am earning?"

  "I can't guess. I am a stranger in this city."

  "Twenty dollars a day."

  "Capital! I don't feel as much surprised as I did. Are you acollege graduate?"

  "Yes, sir. I was graduated at Yale. Then I studied law and threemonths since I came out here. It takes time to get into practise athome and I had no resources to fall back upon. I raised money enoughto bring me to California and came near starving the first week I washere. I couldn't wait to get professional work, but I had an offerto drive a dray. I am a farmer's son and was accustomed to hard workas a boy. I accepted the offer and here I am. I can lay up half myearnings and am quite satisfied."

  "But you won't be a drayman all your life?"

  "Oh, no, sir. But I may as well keep at it till I can get intosomething more to my taste."

  And the young lawyer drove off.

  "It's a queer country," said Morgan. "It's hard to gauge a man byhis occupation here, I see."

  "I wish I could get a dray to drive," said Joe.

  "You are not old enough or strong enough yet. I am looking for somebusiness myself, Joe, but I can't at all tell what I shall driftinto. At home I was a dry-goods merchant. My partner and Idisagreed and I sold out to him. I drew ten thousand dollars out ofthe concern, invested four-fifths of it, and have come out here withthe remainder, to see what I can do."

  "Ten thousand dollars! What a rich man you must be!" said Joe.

  "In your eyes, my boy. As you get older, you will find that it willnot seem so large to you. At any rate, I hope to increase itconsiderably."

  They were walking on Kearny Street, near California Street, whenJoe's attention was drawn, to a sign:

  THIS RESTAURANT FOR SALE

  It was a one-story building, of small dimensions, not fashionable,nor elegant in its appointments, but there wasn't much style in SanFrancisco at that time.

  "Would you like to buy out the restaurant?" asked Morgan.

  "I don't feel like buying anything out with empty pockets," said Joe.

  "Let us go in."

  The proprietor was a man of middle age.

  "Why do you wish to sell out?" asked Morgan.

  "I want to go to the mines.
I need an out-of-door life and want achange."

  "Does this business pay?"

  "Sometimes I have made seventy-five dollars profit in a day."

  "How much do you ask for the business?"

  "I'll take five hundred dollars, cash."

  "Have you a reliable cook?"

  "Yes. He knows his business."

  "Will he stay?"

  "For the present. If you want a profitable business, you will dowell to buy."

  "I don't want it for myself. I want it for this young man."

  "For this boy?" asked the restaurant-keeper, surprised.

  Joe looked equally surprised.

  CHAPTER XVII

  JOE STARTS IN BUSINESS

  "Do you think you can keep a hotel, Joe?" asked Morgan.

  "I can try," said Joe promptly.

  "Come in, gentlemen," said the restaurant-keeper.

  "We can talk best inside."

  The room was small, holding but six tables. In the rear was thekitchen.

  "Let me see your scale of prices," said Morgan.

  It was shown him.

  "I could breakfast cheaper at Delmonico's," he said.

  "And better," said the proprietor of the restaurant; "but I findpeople here willing to pay big prices, and, as long as that's thecase, I should be a fool to reduce them. Yes, there's a splendidprofit to be made in the business. I ought to charge a thousanddollars, instead of five hundred."