CHAPTER XXIII.
SAM FALLS INTO BAD COMPANY.
For a time matters went on smoothly. Sam was abashed by the result ofhis experiment, and discouraged from making another. He felt that hehad a good place. Living chiefly at the lodging-house his expenseswere small, and four dollars a week were ample to meet them. There wasone thing he missed, however,--the freedom to roam about the streetsat will. He felt this the more when the pleasant spring weather cameon. There were times when he got sick of the confinement, and longedto leave the office.
It was a bright morning in May when Dr. Graham called from the inneroffice:--
"Sam."
"What, sir?"
"Do you know the way to Brooklyn?"
"Yes, sir."
"I want you to go over there for me."
"All right, sir."
It may be explained that Dr. Graham, on the first of May, had movedover to Brooklyn, and was occupying a house about a mile from FultonFerry.
"I want you to go to my house," said the doctor, "No. -- H---- street,and carry this letter to my wife."
"Yes, sir."
"I forgot entirely to leave her some money to meet a bill; but if yougo at once it will reach her in time. Stay, I will give you theaddress on a card."
"All right, sir."
"Here is a quarter. It will pay your car-fare, and over the ferry bothways. Now, mind you come back as quick as you can."
This Sam readily promised. He was glad to get away for the morning, ashe calculated that the expedition would take him nearly, or quite,three hours. He took a car and got out at the Astor House. On his waydown to the ferry he met an old street acquaintance,--Jim Nolan.
"How are you, Sam?" said Jim.
"Tip-top!" answered Sam.
"Where do you keep yourself? Are you blackin' boots, now?"
"No," answered Sam, with rather an important air. "I'm in an office."
"How much do you get?"
"Four dollars a week."
"That's good. How'd you get it?"
"Oh, the doctor took a fancy to me, and asked me to come."
"You're in luck. So you're with a doctor?"
"Yes,--Dr. Graham. He's a corn-doctor."
"Where does he hang out?"
"No.--, Broadway."
"Do you have much to do?"
"Not very much."
"How do you come down here, then?"
"I'm takin' a letter to Brooklyn for the doctor."
"Are you?"
"Yes," said Sam; adding unluckily, "There's money in it."
"Is there?" said Jim, pricking up his ears. "How do you know? Let'ssee the letter."
Sam took the letter from his inside coat-pocket, and passed it toJim.
The latter held it up to the light, and tried to look inside. Fortunefavored his efforts. The envelope was imperfectly fastened, and cameopen.
"There, Jim," said Sam, "now see what you've done."
"Let's look inside, and see how much money there is," suggested Jim.
Sam hesitated.
"It won't do any harm to look at it," said the tempter.
"That's so," said Sam.
He accordingly drew out the enclosure, and disclosed two ten-dollarbills.
Jim's eyes sparkled with greed.
"Twenty dollars!" he exclaimed. "What a lot of good that would dous!"
Sam's principles were not firm, but he had a good place, and thetemptation was not as strong as in Jim's case; so he answered, "Maybeit would, but it aint ours."
Jim fastened his little black eyes on Sam cunningly.
"It might be," he answered.
"How could it be?"
"You could keep it."
"The doctor'd find it out."
"Tell him somebody hooked it out of your pocket. He wouldn't know."
Sam shook his head.
"I aint goin to lose a good place just for that," he said.
"Think what a lot of things you could do for ten dollars," urged Jim.
"Twenty, you mean."
"That's ten apiece, isn't it?"
"Oh, you want some, do you?" inquired Sam.
"Yes; I'll take it from you, and then give you back half. So, it'll beme that stole it. They can't do nothin' to you. Come, I'll go over toBrooklyn with you, and then you can make up your mind."
On board the boat Jim renewed his persuasions, and finally Samyielded.
"I'm afraid the doctor'll think I took it," he said.
"No matter! He can't prove nothin'."
"We'll find it hard to change the bills."
"No we won't. I'll tell you where to go. Can you play billiards?"
"No; but I'd like to learn."
"I know, and I'll learn you. There's a saloon over in Brooklyn wherewe can go and have a game. We'll pay out of one of the bills."
Now Sam had long wanted to learn the game of billiards, and thisseemed a good opportunity. Perhaps this consideration as much as anydetermined him to close with his friend's proposal. When, therefore,they had reached the Brooklyn side, instead of taking the horse-carsto Dr. Graham's house, Sam followed his companion to a low billiardsaloon not far away.
There were four tables, one of which only was occupied, for it was tooearly. On one side of the room was a bar, behind which stood a man inhis shirt-sleeves.
"Well, boys, what do you want?" he asked.
"We want a table," said Jim. "We're goin to play a game."
The man in the shirt-sleeves produced, from underneath the counter, agreen pasteboard box containing four ivory billiard balls.
"What table will you have?" he asked.
"This one here," said Jim, leading the way to one farthest from thedoor.
"Now take a cue, Sam," he said. "We'll have a jolly game."
"You must tell me how to play."
"Oh, I'll learn you."
Jim was not a very skilful player, but he knew something about thegame, and under his instruction Sam made some progress, being able tomake a shot now and then. He was very much pleased with the game, anddetermined to devote his spare earnings to this form of recreationhereafter. When the game was ended, a full hour had passed.
"I didn't think it was so late," said Sam, starting. "I shall have togo."
"Go and pay for the game first."
"You ought to pay half."
"No; I beat. The one that loses the game has to pay."
"Of course you beat. It was my first game."
"Never mind. You'll soon play as well as I, and then I shall have topay half the time."
"Do you think I'll improve?"
"Of course you will. We'll play again to-night."
"Here?"
"No, in New York. I'll show you a good saloon in Chatham street."
Sam stepped up to the counter.
"How much do you want?" he asked.
"Sixty cents."
"It's only twenty-five cents a game," said Jim Nolan.
"Your game was longer than two ordinary ones. I'll call it fiftycents."
Sam produced the ten-dollar bill, and received in return nine dollarsand a half. The clerk was rather surprised at a boy presenting solarge a bill. He suspected that it was not come by honestly; but, ashe argued, that was none of his business. What he cared for most wasto get paid for the billiards. So Sam, who had felt a little uneasyabout offering the money, was more at his ease.
"We had a good game, didn't we?" said Jim.
"Yes," said Sam.
"And you did bully for the first time. I couldn't play so well myfirst game."
Sam felt flattered by this compliment from his companion.
"Now I must go back," he said.
"I'll go along back with you. But we'll take a drink first. I want tochange my bill too."
"Why didn't you do it in the billiard-saloon? They had a bar there."
"They might suspect something if both of us offered tens. Here's aplace close by. Come in here."
Jim led the way into a drinking-saloon, and Sam followed.<
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"It's my treat," said Jim. "What'll you have?"
"What are you goin' to take?"
"A whiskey-punch."
"I'll take one too."
"Two whiskey-punches, and mind you make 'em stiff," said Jim.
He tossed down his glass, but Sam drank more slowly.
Jim paid for the drinks, and they went out into the street.
The Young Outlaw; or, Adrift in the Streets Page 25