LOST IN LONDON.
Very miserably passed the sluggish hours for Tommy. It was now
afternoon, and he had been locked up more than two hours, during which
he had indulged in a good cry.
He was looking forward to the arrival of the van which was to take him
and others similarly situated to jail, when the wicket in his cell door
was pushed back. The face of the jailer appeared at the aperture.
"Johnny," he exclaimed, "brace up. Here's two people wants to see you."
"Who are they?" eagerly demanded Tommy.
"How should I know? They look like swells, though, and are dressed bang
up. The lady gave me a shilling."
"Is that so?" said Tommy. "Show them in at once. This isn't New Year's,
but I'm receiving calls."
The door was flung open, and Mr. and Mrs. Stocker appeared in the damp,
narrow passageway.
"What an awful place," exclaimed Mrs. Stocker. "Is this where they put
smugglers? I declare that I'll never risk taking any more silks or
laces in my trunks when I go back to the States."
"It's for all sorts, ma'am," answered the jailer.
Tommy looked at Mr. Stocker and wished him good-day.
"You've got yourself in a nice fix," said the Chicago man, "and if I'd
thought you'd done it all yourself I wouldn't have helped you, but my
wife thinks it's a put-up job, and she wants me to pay the fine for
you, though a hundred dollars is a lot of money, and if you travel with
us, you mustn't expect much wages for some time to come."
"I won't ask a cent, sir," replied Tommy, "if you'll only get me out of
this place."
"Who was it?" asked Mrs. Stocker.
"It was Wild Charley, ma'am, that got me to do it."
"That steward's assistant. Sakes! Why didn't you tell the judge so?
Good land! I'd have turned the tables on him mighty quick."
"He made me promise not to."
"Well," said Mr. Stocker, taking a chew of short-cut, "I'll allow
that you were soft not to squeal on him, but I guess I'll have to buy
you out of this hole. It goes against the grain of my wood to see an
American citizen shut up for smuggling a bit of tobacco."
Overwhelmed with delight, Tommy was marched upstairs by the jailer. The
fine was paid, and instead of going to prison, he accompanied Mr. and
Mrs. Stocker to their hotel.
He was engaged by them to look after the baggage and attend upon the
lady, who hated foreigners, and said she would rather have one of her
own countrymen around her than an Englishman or a Frenchman.
The next day was spent in viewing the sights of Liverpool, and at five
o'clock they took the express train to go to London.
On arriving at the railway station, Tommy was quite bewildered at the
noise and bustle which prevailed on all sides of him.
Mr. and Mrs. Stocker hired two cabs, as one would not contain all their
baggage, which they had packed on the roof of the cab, putting the
smaller parcels inside.
They were to ride in one and Tommy in the other.
"Give me those wraps--hurry up! Oh, my, how cold it is!" cried Mrs.
Stocker. "I shall be so glad when I get to the hotel."
The weather had changed considerably within the last twelve hours, a
light snow was falling.
Tommy handed in the wraps through the window.
"Did you tell them drivers where to go, sir?" asked Tommy.
"Yes. Jump in and keep behind us," was the reply.
Now it happened that there were many cabs in the station, and most of
them were laden with luggage, so that it was difficult to tell one from
the other.
People were rushing about hither and thither, porters were wheeling
trunks on barrows, and pushing all out of their way.
A hand truck went over Tommy's foot, which made him set up a howl of
pain.
Scarcely had this happened than he was caught in a rush of people and
carried halfway down the platform.
Having got out of this crush, he retraced his steps and tried to find
out his cab, but as all the four-wheeled London cabs resemble each
other, it was not an easy task.
At length he fancied he had found the right one, and opening the door,
got in.
"Go on," said he.
The driver, however, got down from his box, and eying the boy sternly
through the window, replied:
"Who are you tellin' to go on?"
"Why, you, of course."
"Did you engage me?"
"I didn't hire you, but my boss did," replied Tommy, "and he told you
where to go to."
"Where's that?"
Tommy scratched his head in perplexity.
He had heard the name of the hotel, but the rush, the whirl, and the
bustle of the moment had driven it clean out of his head.
"I've forgotten!" he exclaimed. "But it don't matter so long as the
boss told you, and you know."
"Look here, young fellow," replied the cabman, "this game won't wash.
I never see you before, and I don't know nothing about bosses. You get
out."
"What d'you mean?" cried Tommy, "ain't the trunks got the name of
Stocker on them?"
"No, they haven't. It's name of Jones. See for yourself."
"I'll stay here," answered Tommy.
"Will you?"
"You bet I will. It's my opinion you want to steal the property."
This insinuation was more than the man could bear.
He stretched out his arm, seized Tommy by the collar, and dragging him
out, flung him on the platform, where he fell on his back.
At that moment the gentleman who had in reality engaged the cab
appeared with his wife, got in, and was driven off.
Tommy, still of opinion that the cab held Mr. Stocker's property, ran
after it out of the station, but it went quicker than he, so that he
soon lost sight of it in the blinding snow.
Thus died away his last hope.
He had lost all trace of his kind protectors, and it seemed as if it
was impossible to find them again.
How could he gain any news of them in such a vast wilderness as London?
The snow was descending in thick, heavy flakes.
Where could he go for shelter?
In his pocket he had not a cent, and he did not know anyone in the
whole metropolis.
With a terrible dread of starvation, or being frozen to death, he
leaned against a lamp-post.
Suddenly a policeman came upon him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, roughly.
"Nothing," replied Tommy.
"Move on."
"I've nowhere to go to. I'm a stranger here, and----"
"Go to the workhouse," interrupted the policeman.
"I don't know where it is."
"Then I ain't going to tell you. All I know is, if you don't get off my
beat, I'll have to make you."
With a weary sigh Tommy trudged on in the rapidly deepening snow.
He was so tired that he scarcely could drag one leg after the other,
and seeing a door standing half open, he determined to enter and throw
himself on the mercy of the inmates.
Over the door was a lamp, and on the door a brass plate, upon which was
engraved, "Rev. C. Floyd, Academy for Young Gentlemen."
In the hallway he met an elderly lady, who had no sooner seen him that
she began to cry out at the top of her voice:
"Thieves! murder! burglars! help!"
A gentleman of clerical appearance came out of a room, and behind him
were a dozen or more boys.
These he waved back with his hand, saying:
"No excitement, if you please, young gentlemen. Stay where you are."
The boys hesitated on the threshold, looking over one another's
shoulders, those in the rear standing on tiptoe.
"Now, my dear," commenced the clerical-looking gentleman, who was the
Rev. C. Floyd himself, "what is the matter?"
"A stranger in the house," replied Mrs. Floyd.
"Indeed!"
The Rev. C. Floyd adjusted his spectacles, and looked curiously at
Tommy.
"My boy!" he exclaimed, "what do you want here at this hour of the
evening?"
"If you please, sir," replied Tommy, "I'm a stranger here. I'm lost,
and I thought you might allow me to sleep somewhere till morning."
"Have you no home?"
"Not here. I'm from America, and only came up from Liverpool to-day."
"Dear me," said the Rev. C. Floyd. "That is a curious coincidence. My
son only arrived yesterday. You say you are from America. Now we will
test the accuracy of your story. Perhaps you are an impostor. If so,
you will be turned out; if not, you shall receive shelter."
"Thank you, sir," answered Tommy, peeping curiously at the young
gentlemen on the threshold.
"Mary, my dear," exclaimed the Rev. C. Floyd, "will you kindly call
down our prodigal son, who, I have reason to believe, is smoking a pipe
in his bedroom, contrary to my express orders."
Mrs. Floyd, having recovered from her fright at seeing a stranger in
the house, went upstairs, and presently returned with a young man.
Tommy's eyes dilated with surprise.
"Charley!" he exclaimed--"Wild Charley! He knows me, sir. We came over
in the same ship together."
The young man advanced with a smile, and held out his hand.
"Glad to see you," he said; "I thought you had found a job in
Liverpool."--This was said with an expressive wink.--"But how did you
find me?"
"Chance," replied Tommy.
Rev. C. Floyd looked from one to the other.
"Do I understand that you two were shipmates?" he asked; "and that you
have met here quite accidentally?"
"That's so, father," answered Charley. "Let Tommy come in by the stove
and he'll tell you all about it."