"Never mind; we've got the two hundred," began his younger companion.

"But we haven't the five hundred additional," grumbled Martin. "Let us go
after him."

Martin strode forward, and shaking in every limb, Toglet followed.

Each of the rascals carried his gun, and as they advanced upon him, Ralph
thought it best to retreat. There was no telling what they would do. For
all he knew, they might try to finish their dastardly work.

"Hi! hi! stop!" called out Martin, as he began to run.

"What do you want?" called back Ralph.

"I want to talk to you. What are you afraid of?"

"You know perfectly well," returned Ralph.

"Ain't you going to stop?"

"Not just now. Come up to the railroad station and do the talking."

"Don't you do it," put in Toglet, in alarm. "He'll have us arrested."

"Stop where you are, or it will be the worse for you," went on Martin.

He raised his gun and pointed it at Ralph's head.

Fearful that the villain would shoot him, Ralph left the road and dodged
behind a clump of trees.

There was no longer the slightest doubt in the boy's mind concerning the
two men. They had meant to take his life, and they were still disposed to
carry out their intention.

"He has gone into the woods," cried Toglet. "Why not let him go?"

"You fool! If he gets away he'll have the officers of the law on our track
in no time!" ejaculated Martin. "We must catch him by all means!"

He sprang on ahead, and was soon making after the boy as rapidly as his
long legs would carry him.

Ralph heard him coming, and once more he moved away. He left the patch of
wood, and a second later came out on the railroad tracks.

As he did so, he heard a locomotive whistle, and a locomotive rolled past,
followed by a long line of empty freight cars.

"Now I'll catch him!" cried Martin to Toglet. "He can't cross the tracks
while the cars are passing."

He rushed toward Ralph, who did not know which way to turn. Up the track a
big cut in the rocks blocked his way, and down was a deep ravine.

Just then, for some reason apparent to the engineer, the long train
slackened its speed for a moment. A freight car came to a halt directly in
front of Ralph, the big side doors wide open.

Hardly giving the matter a second thought, the boy sprang up into the car,
intending to let himself out on the other side.

But before he could accomplish his purpose the train gave a jerk, and in a
second more was on its way on a down grade at such a rate of speed that to
leap off would have been highly dangerous.

Ralph was exhausted by his run, and when the car started off he could
hardly stand. He clutched at the side and staggered to one end, and then
sank down in a heap in the corner. The excitement had been too much for him
in his weak state, and he had fainted.

When he came to his senses all was dark around him. A strange whirr sounded
in his ears, coming from the car wheels, and telling him that the car was
still in motion.

He arose to his feet, and then made the discovery that although it was dark
in the car, it was daylight outside. The reason was plain--both of the
doors on either side had been closed during the time that he had been lying
in the corner.

Feeling his way along the side of the empty car he at length reached one of
the doors only to find it locked. He crossed over to the other side to find
a similar condition of affairs. He was a prisoner in the freight car and
riding he knew not where.

"Well, this is too bad!" he murmured to himself, as, too weak to stand
longer, he sank down on the floor. "I wonder how long I have been riding?"

This was a question just then impossible to answer, but he made up his
mind that he had been riding for some little time, possibly half an hour or
more.

There was satisfaction, however, in the thought that he had escaped from
Martin and Toglet. It was not likely that they had been able to board the
train, even if inclined to do so, which was decidedly doubtful.

A half-hour went by, and still the car rattled on, up grade and down,
without once slacking its speed.

"I'd like to know if we're not going to stop pretty soon," Ralph murmured
to himself.

He was getting thirsty, and knew it would not be long before he would need
both food and drink.

Getting up once more he began to kick upon one of the doors with the heel
of his shoe. He kicked as loudly and as long as he could, but no one came
to answer his summons.

At the end of another hour Ralph began to grow alarmed. The train had
stopped once, but kicking on the door and shouting had brought no one to
his aid. It looked as if he must remain in the car until the journey's end.

"We must be miles away from Westville by this time," he thought. "I would
like to know where we are going, east, west, north, or south? Perhaps
they'll land me in some out-of-the-way place that I never even heard of
before."

Another hour passed, and Ralph began to grow sleepy. He laid down, and,
making a pillow of some loose hay in the bottom of the car, began to take
it easy. In ten minutes more he was sound asleep.

His awakening was a rude one. Somebody touched him in the side with the toe
of a boot, and the light of a smoky lantern was flashed into his face.

"Get out of here, you tramp!" cried a rough voice. "Get out of here at
once, before I turn you over to the police!"

"Who--what----" stammered Ralph, rising to his feet.

But before he could say more he was jerked backward and sent flying out-of
the car into the darkness.

"Now get out of the freight yard," said the man who had ejected him so
forcibly. "Skip, do you hear?"

And he raised a stick he carried so threateningly that Ralph was glad to
retreat.




CHAPTER XXVIII.

RALPH IN THE CITY.


Hardly knowing what to make of such rough and unexpected treatment, Ralph
staggered toward a large gateway close at hand. He passed through and found
himself on a narrow and dirty street, at the upper end of which were a
number of tenement houses and saloons.

"Where in the world am I?" he murmured to himself, as he passed his hand
over his forehead, from which the bandage had slipped. "What place can this
be?"

The cool night air braced the boy up, and soon he felt stronger. But he was
very thirsty, and was willing enough to stop at a nearby street fountain
for a drink.

He heard a distant bell strike twice, and he knew it must be two o'clock in
the morning. His involuntary ride had lasted over ten or twelve hours at
least--the length depending upon the time spent in the freight yard before
disturbed by the night watchman.

The street was practically deserted, saving for several men who were
staggering along under the influence of liquor. All the stores were closed.

"I must find some place to stay for the rest of the night, no matter what
place I am in," thought Ralph, and he walked on for a dozen blocks or
more, looking for a hotel or lodging-house.

At last he came to a place that was still partly open. Over the doorway was
the sign in gold letters:

  ROYAL CROWN HOTEL,
  Beds, 25 Cents per Night.

"Certainly not a very expensive place," thought Ralph, and he peered inside
to where a sleepy clerk sat dozing in a chair beside the desk.

Entering, he aroused the clerk, and asked if he could obtain
accommodations.

"Certainly," was the prompt reply. "Single room, one dollar; two beds,
seventy-five cents; six beds, a quarter. Which will you have?"

"Any place will do for me, so long as it's clean," returned the boy, who
was not inclined to be wasteful of his limited capital. The total amount in
his pockets was not over six dollars, part of which belonged to the boatman
for whom he worked.

"All our beds are clean," said the clerk, sharply. "Pay in advance,
please."

Ralph brought out a quarter and passed it over.

"Can I get a bite to eat anywhere before I go to bed?" he asked.

"There's an all-night lunchroom on the corner above."

"Thank you. I'll get something, for I have had no supper. I came in on a
train and went to sleep. I don't even know what place this is," Ralph went
on.

"Don't, eh? This is Jersey City."

Jersey City! Could it be possible! Then he had indeed taken a long trip.

Ralph knew that Jersey City lay just across the river from New York. A
short ride would take him into the great metropolis. Despite the fact that
he wished himself safe at home, the thought of seeing New York filled him
with pleasure.

"I must send word to mother that I am safe and tell her all of what has
happened, and then spend a day or two in New York before I go back," he
said to himself. "I may not get the chance of seeing the city again for a
long time."

Ralph found the all-night lunchroom without much trouble, and entering, he
sat down at one of the numerous tables. He was a well-read boy, and
therefore did not appear as "green" as he might otherwise have done.

A waiter soon came to serve him.

"What will you have?" he asked.

"What have you got?"

"All kinds of dairy dishes, tea, coffee, and oysters."

"I'll take an oyster stew."

"Anything else?"

"I guess not."

The stew was soon brought. It was a fairly good one, and the hungry boy ate
it with a great relish, consuming all of the crackers that went with it.

While he was eating, a short, stout man, with his arm done up in a sling,
entered the place, and after gazing around sharply, came and sat down close
to Ralph.

"How is the stew, pretty good?" he asked.

"I think so," returned the boy.

"All right, then. Waiter, an oyster stew."

While he was eating his stew the man began to converse with Ralph. He said
his name was Jackson Walters, and that he had just come into the city from
Toledo, Ohio.

"And I feel mighty strange," he added. "Do you know the city pretty well?"

"Not at all. I just got in myself," said Ralph.

"Indeed! Then we are in the same boat. Stopping with friends or at a
hotel?"

"I am going to stop at a hotel over night."

This reply seemed to please Jackson Walters, and he drew up closer,
hurrying to finish his stew at the same time.

"Good enough. Perhaps we can stop together. I feel rather lonely here," he
said.

"I am afraid my hotel wouldn't be good enough for you," replied Ralph,
honestly. "I didn't want to waste my money, and so chose a cheap place."

"Well, I want something cheap, too," said Jackson Walters. He was more
pleased than ever over the idea that Ralph had money even if he did not
care to spend it.

"Where is the hotel?"

"Just down the street a step. I will show you if you wish it."

"Let us take a room together," suggested Jackson Walters, as they left the
restaurant. "I hate to go in among perfect strangers, don't you?"

"Yes, but it couldn't be helped. I took a quarter bed, and there are six in
a room."

"Humph! six! That's too many. How much do they want for a room for two?"

"Seventy-five cents each."

"Then I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll pay the dollar if you'll pay the
fifty cents. Those rooms with six beds in are vile."

Ralph hesitated a moment, and then said he was agreeable. He, too, did not
imagine, after some reflection, that the bed for a quarter of a dollar
could be very good.

They soon reached the hotel, and Jackson Walters explained the new
arrangement to the clerk. Ralph paid over another twenty-five cents, and
his new friend the dollar, and then a boy was called to conduct them to
room No. 96, on the third floor.

"Call me at half-past seven," said Jackson Walters. "I don't know when you
want to get up," he said to Ralph.

"That will suit me, sir," was the boy's reply.

He usually arose at an earlier hour, but thought he deserved a longer rest,
considering what he had passed through.

The boy led them up two flights of narrow stairs, and showed them the room,
at the same time lighting the gas. He had brought a pitcher of water with
him, and placing this on the washstand, he left, closing the door behind
him.

The room was plainly but neatly furnished, and although the bed was
scratched and old-fashioned, it was clean. It did not take Ralph long to
undress and get under the covers.

"Do you sleep with a light?" asked Jackson Walters. "I never do."

"Nor I."

So the gas was put out, and a moment later Ralph's companion retired also.
In a few minutes he began to breathe heavily, as though in the soundest of
slumbers.

But this was all sham. He was far from being asleep, as the sequel soon
showed.

Ten minutes later Ralph fell asleep, to dream of home and all that had been
left behind.

In a few minutes after this, Jackson Walters crawled from the bed, and
began to don his clothing silently, but in great haste. He put on his
stockings, but he placed his shoes in his coat pockets.

This done, he took up Ralph's clothing from where it lay on a chair. With a
dexterity worthy of a better cause, he went through the pockets, searching
for everything of value.

His nefarious task was soon accomplished. Ralph slept on unconscious, and
did not awaken when Jackson Walters opened the door and glided out.

The thief was soon below. The clerk dozed away in the office, and in his
stocking feet the man had no difficulty in passing out of the building
without being noticed.

Once on the pavement he slipped on his shoes.

"Not much of a haul, but a good deal better than nothing," he chuckled to
himself, and disappeared down the street which led toward the ferries.




CHAPTER XXIX.

PENNILESS.


It was daylight when Ralph awakened from what had been an unusually sound
sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, wondering for the moment where he
was. Then the recollection of what had occurred flashed over his mind. He
looked beside him, and saw that Jackson Walters had gone.

"He must have dressed and left me to sleep it out," he thought. "I wonder
what time--hallo! what does that mean?"

Ralph had espied his clothing in a heap on the floor, most of the pockets
inside out. With a strange fear he leaped from the bed and made a hasty
examination. It was only too true--he had been robbed.

"That fellow was nothing but a sharper!" he ejaculated to himself. "What a
fool I was to be taken in by his smooth tongue! He took me for a greeny
from the country, and he was right."

Ralph did not know enough to ring for the proprietor of the hotel and
acquaint him with the facts in the case. He scrambled into his clothing as
best he could, and washed and brushed up all in a minute.

When he reached the office he found a new man at the desk.

"I have been robbed," he said.

"Robbed!" cried the clerk. "By whom?"

"A man who occupied the same room that I did," replied the boy.

He told what he knew, to which the clerk listened with interest. But the
hotel clerk saw that Ralph was green, so he took no responsibility upon his
own shoulders. He said he would notify the police, but it was likely
nothing would be heard of Jackson Walters.

The matter was talked over for half an hour, and then Ralph left the place
to see if he could trace up the thief. He walked around until noon, without
any success.

"This is the worst yet," he muttered to himself, as he at last came to a
halt down near one of the ferries. "Here I am in the city without a cent in
my pocket. What in the world shall I do?"

Had Ralph been in New York he would have made an effort to hunt up Horace
Kelsey, the gentleman he had assisted while he was acting as bridge tender.
The gentleman had told him to call whenever he was in the city, and he had
no doubt but what he could raise a loan when he stated how he was situated.

At length he decided to go back to the hotel and see if anything had been
heard of Jackson Walters. He went back, only to be disappointed.

But the visit was productive of some good. Hearing that he had a friend in
New York, the hotel keeper gave him a quarter of a dollar with which to get
over the ferry and pay other expenses while hunting him up.

Ralph was soon back to the river, and in company with a great stream of
people, he purchased a ferry ticket and went aboard one of the boats.

The trip on such a craft was a novelty, and he was sorry it did not last
longer. Yet when the boat touched on the other side he was one of the first
ashore.

Ralph was now in the great city of New York, and the country boy could not
help but stare about him at the bustle and apparent confusion on all sides.
By a miracle he managed to cross Wall street in safety, and then, learning
that Broadway lay several blocks beyond, he followed the crowd in that
direction.

"It's a big place, and no mistake," he said to himself. "My gracious, what
tall buildings, and how they are crowded together!"

At last Broadway was reached, that greatest of all metropolitan
thoroughfares. It was the most wonderful of all sights to Ralph, so many
cars, and wagons, and trucks, not to mention people. He stood on the corner
so long that at last a policeman came up and told him to move on.

Ralph was sorry he could not remember Horace Kelsey's number. The insurance
agent's card was at home, and the boy had not troubled himself to commit
the address to memory. He knew it was on Broadway, and that was all.

"I suppose I might inquire at some of the insurance offices," he thought,
at length. "I'll step into the next one I run across."

It was not long before he came to such a place as he was looking for. He
entered and made known his wants to the clerk, who advanced to ascertain
his wishes.

"Horace Kelsey?" said the clerk. "Don't know the man."

"He is an insurance agent," went on Ralph.

"Good many insurance agents in New York. You might look in the directory.
There is one on that stand over by the window."

"Thank you, I'll try it," replied the boy.

He soon found the list of men in the insurance business. Running down the
column of K's, he came across the name Kelsey, Horace, insurance broker,
with his office address and also his home address, up-town.

Making a mental note of both, Ralph hurried out. A policeman directed him
to the tall office building in which his friend had rooms, and he was soon
on his way thither.

Arriving at the building, the boy took his first ride in an elevator. It
must be confessed that the lift moved so fast and the sensation was so
unusual that it made him somewhat sick. When he got out at the right floor
he felt as if he was walking on air for a few seconds.

He found Horace Kelsey's office handsomely fitted up. There were several
young gentlemen clerks and two young lady typewriters. Evidently business
was in a prosperous condition.

Ralph was disappointed to find that the gentleman himself was not visible.

"I came to see Mr. Kelsey," he said, to the clerk who greeted him.

"Mr. Kelsey is out, sir. What can we do for you?"

"I will wait until Mr. Kelsey comes in, please. My business is with him
personally."

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait a long time," smiled the clerk. "Mr. Kelsey
is out of the city."

Ralph's heart sank at this announcement. He had felt sure that assistance
was close at hand.

"When do you expect him to return?"

"I can hardly say, perhaps to-day, perhaps to-morrow or the day after. It
depends on when he finishes up the business on hand."

Ralph heaved a sigh. The clerk saw that he was greatly disappointed.

"Can't you come in to-morrow and see if he has returned?" he asked.

"I guess so," faltered the boy. "But I expected sure to meet him to-day,"
he went on.

"Very sorry."

"I will come in again before you close, if you don't mind."

"Not at all; come whenever you please. We are open until five o'clock
here."

Ralph left his name and then quitted the offices. He did not bother taking
the elevator down, but used the winding stairs instead.

He had reached the second floor, and was about to start down for the street
when he caught sight of a man standing on the stone steps below. The man
was Jackson Walters.

"The rascal!" muttered Ralph, to himself. "How fortunate to catch sight of
him!"

He sprang down the steps two at a time. Walters heard him coming, and
looked around. But before he could attempt to move away, Ralph had him
tightly by the arm.

"So I've caught you, have I?" he said, bluntly. "Why--er--really--you have
the advantage of me," stammered Jackson Walters, coldly.

"I guess I have, and it's a good thing, too," returned Ralph.

"I--er--don't know you."

"What!" ejaculated the boy, in amazement.

"I say I don't know you. Isn't that plain enough?"

"Well, I know you plain enough. You are the man who roomed with me last
night and robbed me."

"'Pon my word, I never saw you before. This is some extraordinary mistake."

"No mistake about it," returned Ralph, doggedly. He was not to be buncombed
by the oily manner of the thief.

"Let go of my arm, boy!"

"I will not. You are the thief, and you must return what you stole from
me," said Ralph.

He spoke rather loudly, and a crowd began to collect about the two. In a
few seconds a policeman hurried up to ascertain the cause of the trouble.




CHAPTER XXX.

THE SHARPER IS OUTWITTED.


"What's the matter here?" exclaimed the policeman, as he pushed his way
forward.

"This man is a thief," replied Ralph.

"The boy is mistaken," burst out Jackson Walters, in assumed indignation.

"No, I am not mistaken," said Ralph. "He slept in the same room with me in
a hotel in Jersey City last night, and he went through my pockets and got
out before I woke up."

"A likely story!" ejaculated the sharper. "I live in Englewood, New Jersey,
and I was home last night, as usual."

The policeman looked perplexed. Ralph's earnest manner had impressed him,
and yet Jackson Walters looked honest enough.

"You are sure that you are not mistaken in your man?" he asked, of Ralph.

"I am positive, sir."

"He is mistaken," blustered the sharper. "I am an honest man. My name is
William G. Harrow, and I am in the crockery business over in Park Place."

"Well, the best you two can do is to come with me," said the policeman.

"Where to?"

"To the police station. You can tell your story there."

"I am willing," returned Ralph, promptly.

"It is an outrage," cried Jackson Walters. "A respectable citizen like
myself to be dragged to the station house----"

"You won't be dragged, you can walk," interrupted the policeman, with fine
sarcasm.

The fact that Ralph was willing to go while the other was not, had
impressed him greatly in the lad's favor.

"It's all the same. This boy is a young gamester. He wanted to frighten me
into paying him money. It's a pure case of blackmail."

"If it is, the boy will be sent up for it," replied the policeman, sharply.
"Just come with me, both of you."

"I won't go!" cried Jackson Walters, and before he could be stopped he
sprang away, and started to cross Broadway.

Like a flash Ralph was after him. The boy was fearful the sharper would get
away and the money be lost once more. Before Jackson Walters reached the
car tracks Ralph had him by the arm.

"Let go of me!" howled the sharper.

"Not much! I want my money!" replied the boy, stubbornly.

"There, take your confounded money, then!" cried the sharper, and snatching
several dollar bills from his vest pocket he flung them in the street.

The sight of the bills relieved Ralph greatly. He stooped to pick them up,
and as he did so, Jackson Walters darted across the street, the policeman
at his heels.

With the bills in his hand, Ralph got out of the way of the trucks and
wagons as soon as he could. He ran to the sidewalk, and counted the money.
There were eleven dollars. In his haste, Jackson Walters had thrown him
five dollars more than the amount originally taken.

Ralph now found himself in a new crowd of people. The policeman and the
sharper had entirely disappeared.

Thinking to find the pair, the boy crossed Broadway and hunted around, up
and down and into several of the side streets. But it was useless, the two
had disappeared.

"Well, I am not the loser," thought Ralph, with considerable satisfaction.
"I'm the gainer, and if Jackson Walters wants his money let him apply to me
for it."

The fact that he now had his money safe once more gave Ralph not a little
satisfaction. He was no longer worried over the fact that he might not see
Horace Kelsey before nightfall.

It was now noon, and Ralph felt hungry. He walked along until he came to a
clean-looking restaurant, which he entered, and called for the regular
dinner, at thirty cents. He ate all that was placed before him, with keen
relish.

While at the table he reflected upon his situation, and came to the
conclusion that his duty was to write to his mother, telling her of all
that had happened. He would also ask her to see Bill Franchard and pay him
the money due for boat hire, and tell him all, so that he might start on a
search for his missing boat.

"Then I'll wait till I see Mr. Kelsey and get his advice as to what to do
next," he thought. "Perhaps he'll see through his mystery, even if I do
not."

Close to the restaurant Ralph found a stationery store, at which he
purchased a sheet of paper and an envelope.

"Will you kindly allow me to write a letter here?" he asked.

"Certainly," replied the clerk. "You will find pen and ink at the desk in
the rear."

It took Ralph some little time to compose his letter--he had so much to
say--and when he had finished, the sheet was crowded from the first page to
the last. He sent his love to his mother, and told her to address him at
the general post office.

Ralph's next move was to take his letter to the post office and stamp and
mail it. This took nearly half an hour, but the boy enjoyed the trip to the
big Government building, and was astonished to note on what a large scale
the metropolitan post-office business was conducted.

"This beats the Westville post office all to bits," he murmured to himself.
"Mr. Hooker would cut a mighty small figure here, no matter how important
he is at home."

The letter mailed, Ralph felt better. It would relieve his mother of much
anxiety, and clear up the mystery concerning his strange disappearance.

"Shine yer shoes, boss?"

It was the inquiry of a ragged bootblack standing just outside of the post
office building.

"What's that?" asked Ralph.

"Shine yer shoes? Make 'em look like a lookin'-glass, boss."

Ralph glanced down at his shoes, and saw that they were decidedly in need
of brushing up.

"What do you charge?" he asked.

"Five fer a regular, an' ten fer an oil finish."

"I cannot afford more than five. Go ahead and do the best you can for
that."

"All right, boss, I'll give yer a good one."

The boy dropped on his knees in an angle of the building, and put out his
little box before him. In a second he was hard at work with a well-worn
whiskbroom, brushing the dirt from the bottom of Ralph's trousers.

"How do you like shining shoes?" questioned Ralph, curiously.

"Don't like it, boss," was the truthful reply. "No, sir. But a feller has
got ter do somethin' fer a livin'--or starve."

"And you can't get anything else to do?"

"Nixy. I've tried a hundred times, but it wasn't no go--all the stores and
shops is so crowded."

"That is too bad."

"Maybe you kin give me a job?" went on the bootblack, suddenly, and he
turned his blue eyes up in expectancy.

"Hardly," laughed Ralph. "I am looking for work myself."

"Dat's too bad. Do yer belong in New York?"

"No; I just arrived this morning."

"Ain't yer got no pull?"

"Pull? What do you mean?"

"No friend ter give yer a lift?"

"I have a friend, yes."

"Is he rich?"

"Yes."

"Den it's all right. But if yer didn't have no pull I would advise yer to
go back home. A feller widout a pull in New York can't do nuthin' nohow,"
and the bootblack gave an extra dash with his brush to emphasize his
remarks.

"I haven't been able to see my friend yet. He is out of town."

"Say, maybe yer kin put in a word fer me."

"What is your name?"

"Mickety."

"Mickety? Mickety what?"

"Me udder name is Powers, but da all calls me just Mickety."

"And where do you live, Mickety?"

"Over in Cherry street, wid me old gran'mudder. She can't work, an' I have
ter keep t'ings goin'."

"You have to support her, you mean?"

"Dat's it. She's most blind, Gran'ma Sal is."

"It's a good deal on your shoulders," said Ralph, and his respect for the
dirty little chap before him increased.

"Dat's why I want ter strike anudder job."

"Well, if I hear of any opening, I'll let you know. Where can I see you?"

"I'm around here most all day, boss, an' t'ank yer fer sayin' you'll look
out fer me."

The shoes were now blacked, and Mickety arose to his feet. Ralph brought
out a quarter and handed it over.

"Keep it all, Mickety," he said. "I am sorry I can't spare more just now."

"Gee! A quarter! Yer a liberal gent, so yer are! T'ank yer, sir!"

"You are quite welcome," returned Ralph, and he walked off.

He was destined to meet the bootblack again, and under circumstances full
of the gravest peril.




CHAPTER XXXI.

ON THE BOWERY.


After leaving the bootblack Ralph hardly knew what to do with himself. It
was barely three o'clock, and he fancied it still too early to visit Horace
Kelsey's office again.

He concluded to walk around and see the sights, and accordingly strolled up
Broadway past the City Hall Park, and continued on up until Fourteenth
street was reached.

This great thoroughfare, with its immense stores, interested him greatly.
He spent fully half an hour in looking into the show-windows.

"What a lot of money must be invested in business here," he thought. "How I
would like to be a merchant on such a scale. A person who had never been
here would not imagine it was so grand!"

When a neighboring clock showed the hour of four the boy thought it time to
return to the insurance agent's office. He was soon on his way downtown.

At the entrance to the office, a policeman tapped him on the shoulder. It
was the one he had met earlier in the day.

"Hallo, young fellow," he said. "Did you get your money back?"

"Yes, I got my money, and a trifle more," returned Ralph. "Did you catch
the man?"

"No, the rascal gave me the slip. So you got more than your money, eh?"

"I got five dollars more. But he has my pocketknife and a silver temperance
badge. He can have his money when he gives me my things back."

"I reckon you'll have to call it square," laughed the policeman. "He was a
slick one."

"He was, sir."

"You are a stranger in the city, I take it," went on the policeman, with a
glance at Ralph's country clothes.

"Yes."

"You want to have your eyes open in the future, or you'll be robbed again
before long.

"If you sleep in a room with others, pin your money fast inside of your
shirt. Then they can't get it without waking you up."

"Thank you, I'll remember that."

"I shall watch out for that sharper, and nab him the first chance I get."

"That's right; he ought to be arrested."

"The trouble will be that there will be no one to make a complaint," went
on the policeman.

"I'll make a complaint if I am still in the city," said Ralph.

"But where will I find you?"

"Ask for me at Mr. Kelsey's office in this building."

"Oh! All right," said the guardian of the peace, and then he and the boy
separated.

In a minute more Ralph was back in the offices upstairs.

"Sorry, but Mr. Kelsey has not returned," said the clerk. "Better come in
to-morrow about ten o'clock."

"Thank you, I will," replied Ralph.

He went downstairs much disappointed.

"I'll have to find some sort of a sleeping-place for to-night," he thought.
"And it must be a cheap one, for if Mr. Kelsey doesn't come back in a day
or two I will have to go home without seeing him, and I want to save the
carfare to do it. No more riding in empty freight cars for me!" and he
laughed to himself, as he remembered his experience in that line.

Ralph had often heard of the Battery, as the lower end of the city is
called, and he determined to pay it a brief visit before nightfall should
set in.

From a passer-by he learned that Broadway ran directly down there, and on
he walked against the great tide of humanity which was now setting in
toward up-town.

It was not long before he reached the little park back of Castle Garden and
the emigrant offices, and here he sat down on a bench to take a look at the
bay, and also at the various types of people that were moving about in all
directions.

It was dark when Ralph moved off. During his stay he had heard two young
men speak of the Bowery, and the many odd sights to be seen there,
especially during the evening.

"I have nothing to do between now and bedtime," he thought. "I'll take a
stroll up the Bowery, and take in all that is to be seen. In such a place
as New York it will be easy enough to find a cheap hotel when I want to
retire."

So leaving the Battery, he traveled up to Park Row, and continued along
until the Bowery was reached.

The Bowery, even at this early hour in the evening, was alive with people.
Many of the men and women were of very questionable character, but Ralph
did not know this. He walked along, staring at everything to be seen.

Presently he came to a clothing establishment, in front of which were hung
a number of suits marked at very low figures. He stopped to examine them,
and hardly had he done so when an outside salesman, or "puller-in," as he
is called, approached him.

"Nice suits, eh?" he said, pleasantly, as he placed his hand on Ralph's
arm.

"They look so," returned the boy.

"Come in and try one on."

"No, thank you; not to-night."

"Won't cost you anything; come on," persisted the fellow.

"I don't care to buy to-night."

"That's all right; just try 'em on, and see how nice they look on you."

"Thank you, but I won't bother you," and Ralph attempted to walk away.

The "puller-in" was not going to lose him thus easily, however. Trade had
been bad with him for the day, and he felt he must sell something or his
position with the owner of the establishment would be at stake.

"It's no trouble to show goods, my dear sir; walk right in," he said, and,
instead of letting Ralph go, pushed him toward the open store doors.

"But I don't want to buy," insisted Ralph, who began to fancy he was not
being treated just right.

"Didn't ask you to buy, my dear sir. Isaac just show this young gentleman
some of those beautiful all-wool suits for nine and ten dollars."

A greasy old Jew at once came forward, rubbing his hands.

"Chust sthep back here," he said, smiling broadly. "I vill show you der
greatest pargains in New York."

"But I don't care to bu----" began Ralph again, but the Jew cut him short.

"Ve got dese suits at a great pargain," he said. "Da vos made originally to
sell at twenty dollars. So efery von vot buys von of dem suits saves ten or
elefen dollars on der burchase brice."

He hurried Ralph back to the rear of the store, and in a trice had at hand
half a dozen suits, more or less faded, and of exceedingly doubtful
material.

"Chust try on der coat and vest," he said. "Here, Rachel, hold der young
gentleman's coat an' vest till I fit him to perfection," he went on to his
wife, who had come up.

"Oh, Isaac, it vos a shame to sold dem peautiful allvool suits for twelfe
dollars!" she cried, in assumed dismay.

"I vos sold dem for nine and ten dollars," returned Isaac.

"Vot, you reduced dem again?" she cried, in well-assumed horror.

"Yah, I vos got to haf der monish."

"It vos der greatest pargain sale in der vorld!" cried the woman. "You
ought to buy two suits vile it lasts," she went on to Ralph.

In the meantime her husband was trying to make Ralph take off his coat and
vest. He at length succeeded, and in a trice had part of one of the store
suits on his back.

"Ach! vot an elegant fit!" he cried, in deep admiration. "Chust like it vos
made to order!"

"Peautiful! peautiful!" joined in his wife.

"Vill you try on der bants?" asked the Jew.

"No," returned Ralph, decidedly.

"You had better. Da might not fit chust so vell as der coat."

"But I do not want to buy," cried Ralph, desperately.

"Vat?" screamed the old Jew. "And dot suit fits so elegantly!"

"Of course he takes dot suit," put in his wife. "Vot more you vonts, hey?"

"I didn't want to buy from the start," returned Ralph. "Give me my coat and
vest."

And taking off the store coat and vest, he flung them on a counter.

"You dinks I vos a fool!" shrieked the old Jew. "Vot you try dem clothes on
for, hey? Dot suit chust fits you--it's chust vot you vonts. I wraps dem up
and you bays for dem and say noddings more! I vos here to sell goots--not
to be fooled mit!"




CHAPTER XXXII.

NEW EMPLOYMENT.


Had Ralph been more familiar with the ways of the city, and particularly
with the ways of such merchants as the one with whom he now had to deal, he
would have known that the Jew's anger was only put on in order to
intimidate him into purchasing a suit he did not want.

The Bowery is full of such shops as I have described, and despite the many
protests that have been made, "pullers-in" and their associates continue to
flourish. In more than three-quarters of the cases where passers-by are
enticed into stores they are forced into buying, no matter how hard they
protest against the outrage.

But although he was ignorant of the real facts of the matter, one thing was
clear to Ralph. He did not want to buy, and he was not going to be forced
into doing so.

"I did not come in to fool," he said, stoutly. "Your man outside insisted
that I should come in and try on the things, although I told him I did not
wish to buy."

"Dot's all right--I wrap der suit up and you bay for dem."

"Not much!" and Ralph's temper began to rise. "Give me my coat and vest!"

He made a dash for the articles, but before he could secure them the Jew's
wife had whisked them out of his reach.

"You can't vos fool Isaac," she screamed. "You bay for der suit, and den
you gits dem pack--not before."

"I'll have them back now!" exclaimed Ralph, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Give them to me!"

The woman ran behind the counter, but he made after her. He caught hold of
the coat and vest, and despite her resistance, twisted them from her grasp.
In a second he had them on once more.

"Hellup! hellup!" screamed the woman.

"Don't you touch mine wife!" howled the old Jew.

"Samuel, come in here and hellup your fadder and mudder!"

The "puller-in" had been watching proceedings from outside of the store,
and now he came running in. He was a big, muscular fellow, and not above
acting roughly when the occasion demanded.

"See here, what do you mean by striking my mother?" he cried out, boldly.
"Do you want to get yourself locked up?"

Instead of replying to this speech, Ralph backed toward the rear of the
clothing establishment. He had no desire to enter into a fight on the
premises. Now he had his clothing, he wished to get out as quickly as
possible.

"Sthop! sthop!" screamed the old Jew. "Vere vos you going?"

Still Ralph returned no reply. The way to the front was blocked. But a rear
door, leading to a small yard, was open, and toward this he ran.

"He's goin' out of der pack!" cried the woman. "Sthop him, Isaac!"

"Run, Samuel!" shrieked Isaac, and the son darted forward, but too late to
stop Ralph in making his exit.

Ralph found the yard both small and exceedingly dirty. Beyond was another
yard, and, looking over the fence, the boy saw an open hallway leading to a
street.

Without hesitation, for Samuel was close at his heels, Ralph vaulted over
the fence. Before the young Jew could follow, he was inside of the hallway.
A minute later he was in the next street, and running through the crowd
toward the end of the block. He did not cease his rapid pace until the
neighborhood was left a good distance behind.

"Well, that's the most trying experience I've had yet," he murmured to
himself, as he at last dropped into a slow walk to catch his breath. "Those
people are not thieves, but they are next door to it."

Ralph was so disgusted with the Bowery--which, in reality, has many nice
places of business in it--that he left the street at the next corner.

At nine o'clock he found himself in the vicinity of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Here he came across a cheap but neat-looking hotel. He entered and engaged
a room for himself alone on the top floor for fifty cents, and soon after
retired and slept soundly until morning.

The boy was on the streets again long before the time appointed for his
next call at Horace Kelsey's offices. Having nothing to do, he mounted to
the bridge, and took a walk across to Brooklyn and return. This gave him a
splendid view of both cities, and afforded him a means of enjoyment until
it was time to make the call.

He had brushed himself up to the last degree, and invested in another shine
for his shoes, and a clean collar and tie, so now, even if his clothing was
rather worn and torn in one or two places, he nevertheless looked quite
respectable.

"He is in," said the clerk, when Ralph entered the offices, and the next
moment Horace Kelsey came forward and shook him by the hand.

"This is an unexpected pleasure," said the insurance agent. "Step into my
private office," and he led the way, showed Ralph to a seat, and closed the
door. "My clerk told me of your calling yesterday."

"This is a totally unexpected trip, Mr. Kelsey," returned Ralph, by way of
apologizing for his appearance. "When I started, I had no idea I would end
up in New York."

"Indeed!" and the gentleman looked his curiosity.

"I've got rather a long story to tell," went on Ralph.

"Yes? Then let me hear it at once. I will be at leisure for the next hour."

It was rather awkward for Ralph to start, but it was not long before he was
deep in the recital of his adventures and the great wrong that had been
done to him. Horace Kelsey listened with scarcely a word of comment until
he finished.

"Well, Ralph, if I did not know you to be an honest boy, I would not
believe it," he exclaimed, at last.

"I can hardly believe it myself, Mr. Kelsey. Why did those two men attack
me?"

"It is a great mystery. Had you not met them after the fall over the bluff
I would be inclined to say that that fall must have been accidental. But,
as it is, it was premeditated, beyond a doubt. And you are certain that you
never met the men before?"

"I am."

"They could not have been the ones that robbed the post office, and got
angry because you put the authorities on their track?"

"No sir; I don't believe they had anything to do with that affair."

"It couldn't be that Percy Paget set them up to it?"

"I don't believe he would go as far as that--not when our quarrel was no
worse than it was."

"I believe you there. Yet there must be some reason," insisted Horace
Kelsey. "Men do not attempt to take life for the mere fun of it."

"I believe you there, sir."

"The thing is--what could they profit by if you were out of the way?"

"I don't know."

"Could they claim that property, the papers of which are missing?"

"No sir; the property belongs to my mother--at least I think it does."

"Your father might have willed it to you."

"In that case my mother would have told me of it."

"You should have gone back to Westville at once and made a search. Your
mother will be worried over your absence."

"I have already written to her, telling her all. I don't see the use of
going back just now. Those men have most likely skipped out."

"That is true."

"And now I had come to New York, I thought I would take a look around
before I went back. I may not get the chance again. Besides, I only had a
job on the lakes running the pleasure sloop, and I would like to strike
something better if it's to be had."

"I see," Horace Kelsey smiled. "Well, I promised to do what I could, and I
won't disappoint you. I will give you employment here in my office unless
you can strike something better."

"Thank you. I would prefer to work for you."

"I need another clerk for a new line of work, and I fancy you would just
suit. But you would have to remain in New York. How would your mother like
that?"

"She would miss me, sir, but if the job paid I could send for her to come
on, and rent the place in Westville."

"Then you can consider yourself engaged whenever you are ready to come to
work. And, by the way," Horace Kelsey went on, hurriedly, as there came a
knock on the door, "there is a gentleman I must see on business. Come in at
one o'clock again, will you?"

"Yes, sir," replied Ralph, and not to detain the gentleman longer, he bowed
himself out, well pleased over the sudden turn his fortunes had taken.

Could the boy have seen what was at that time occurring at Westville, he
would not have been so contented, but would instead have taken the first
train homeward.




CHAPTER XXXIII.

SQUIRE PAGET'S MOVE.


Let us leave Ralph for a short time and go back to Westville and see what
was occurring at that place during his absence. Of course, when the boy did
not return in the evening from his trip up Big Silver Lake, Mrs. Nelson was
much worried over his absence. She took supper alone, after waiting until
eight o'clock for him to make his appearance, and then took a walk down to
the bridge where her son was in the habit of tying up.

"Have you seen anything of Ralph?" she asked of Dan Pickley, who sat in the
office, counting his tolls for the day.

"No," he returned, shortly, and went on with his counting.

Not wishing to disturb him, the widow said no more. She strained her eyes
to see through the gathering darkness, but not a boat that could be the
right one appeared in sight.

After waiting nearly an hour she returned to the cottage. She sat up until
twelve o'clock, watching and waiting, and went to bed.

"If something had happened they would let me know," she said to herself.
"He must have taken out some party and been detained. He will surely come
back by to-morrow noon."

But the morrow came, and the morning passed slowly by without any one
coming near the distressed woman.

After dinner she could bear the suspense no longer. Dressing up and putting
on her bonnet, she started out to walk to Glen Arbor.

On the way she met one of the neighbors who was driving and offered her a
seat in his wagon. She accepted the offer gladly, for she was not
accustomed to walking a long distance.

"It ain't often you go to Glen Arbor, I reckon," said the neighbor, a
farmer named Wilkins.

"No," she replied, "I am going to see what has become of Ralph."

"Ralph! What's the matter with him? Run away?"

"I hope not, Mr. Wilkins. But he did not return last night from a trip on
the lake, and I am worried."

"Maybe he couldn't get back because he went too far and the wind died out."

"There was a good breeze all night."

"That's so, widow. Well, I hope you find Ralph all right."

"So do I," returned Mrs. Nelson.

She knew very well where Bill Franchard's boat-house was, and after leaving
Mr. Wilkins, walked hither quickly. Luckily, she found Franchard on shore,
mending one of his boats.

"Where is Ralph, Mr. Franchard?" she asked, hurriedly.

"That's just what I'd like to know, Mrs. Nelson," replied the boatman. "He
ain't showed up since he went off yesterday morning."

"Did you expect him to stay out so long?"

"No, I didn't. I was looking for him in last evening."

"Who did he take out?"

"Two gentlemen, I believe. He made the engagement himself. I don't know who
they were."

"Have you any idea where he can be?"

"They sailed up the lake, so Jack Harper says. Maybe they might be puttin'
in the time around the islands. Sometimes these sportsmen don't care to
come home at dark, but want the fun of camping out over night."

This last remark afforded Mrs. Nelson some relief. If the supposition was
correct, Ralph might be perfectly safe.

"I hope he comes back soon," she said. "Would you mind if I stay around the
boat-house for a while?"

"Why, no, Mrs. Nelson; make yourself at home," returned Franchard,
heartily. "We ain't got very good accommodations here, but such as they are
you are welcome to."

The widow sat down and watched the boatman mending his craft. Thus an hour
passed. Then came a hail from the water.

"Ahoy there, Franchard!"

The boatman looked up and saw a young fellow in a rowboat.

"Hullo, Evans!" he called back.

"Say, one of your boats is ashore over to Mack's meadow," went on the youth
in the rowboat.

"One of my boats! Which one?"

"The _Minnie_. I saw her as I came past, and I thought I'd tell you about
her. She isn't tied up there."

"My gracious! what can it mean?" cried Mrs. Nelson. "That was the boat
Ralph had, wasn't it?"

"It was," returned Franchard. "Jump in this rowboat, Mrs. Nelson, and we'll
go over to the meadow and take a look at the boat."

He ran for a pair of oars, and soon the two were on the water. Mack's
meadow was less than half a mile away, and Franchard, who was an expert
rower, soon pulled the boat to it.

"There is the _Minnie_, sure enough!" he exclaimed, as they rounded a
little point.

And he pointed to where the sloop lay half-hidden in the water and high
meadow grass.

"Is--is any one on board?" asked Mrs. Nelson, in a trembling tone.

"Not a soul."

"Oh, Mr. Franchard, what do you suppose has happened?" she burst out.

"I can't say, ma'am. Wait till I go on board and take a look around."

Franchard was soon on the sloop. Everything appeared to be in order,
although there were the marks of muddy feet on the flooring and on the
seats. Martin and Toglet had taken good care that no clew that should lead
to their identity should be left behind.

"Do you see anything belonging to Ralph?" asked Mrs. Nelson.

"Not a thing."

"Do you suppose he left the boat here?"

The boatman shook his head slowly.

"I wish I could say yes, Mrs. Nelson," he said. "But I don't think so. It's
all wet around here, and there would be no sense in it when there are so
many dry landing places nearby. Most likely he landed somewhere else and
the boat drifted away from him."

The widow gave a start.

"Oh, might they not have landed on one of the islands and the sloop got
away from them?" she cried.

"By creation! that may be it!" ejaculated Bill Franchard. "I never thought
of it before."

"I wish we could find out. I'm greatly worried. Something tells me that
Ralph is not safe--that something has happened to him."