THE LITTLE NOBODY.
"Well!" demanded the man laconically.
"Is this James MacHenry?"
"That's me, boy."
"I would like to see you on business," Jerry went on, as he brushed past
and entered one of the barest living apartments he had ever seen.
"On business?"
"Yes, a few days ago you picked up a packet downtown belonging to me--a
packet containing some documents and letters."
"Who said they belonged to you?"
"I say so. My name is Jerry Upton, and I dropped the packet in the
alleyway where you found it."
The man stared at our hero.
"Say, is this a game?" he demanded, harshly.
"What do you mean?"
"Are you trying to get me into trouble?"
"No, I am trying to keep you out of trouble," replied the young oarsman,
warmly.
"You say that packet belonged to you?"
"Yes."
"It didn't have your name on it."
"No, it--" Our hero stopped short. "It had Alexander Slocum's name on it!"
he burst out.
"Exactly."
"You don't mean to say you delivered that packet to him?" gasped the
youth.
"I did--not an hour ago."
Jerry fell back into a chair and breathed heavily. The packet was
gone--into the hands of the enemy!
"The man said it was his package," said Crazy Jim. "He gave me a reward of
five dollars for returning it to him."
"It was mine. He wanted to steal it--and now he's done it," cried Jerry.
"You let him have it but an hour ago?"
"Yes."
"Where did he go?"
"I don't know."
"Did you open the packet?"
"Yes, but I couldn't make nothing out of it--'cos I ain't eddicated. I
read his name on it and got another fellow to write a postal card
yesterday afternoon. He came here, examined the papers, and seemed much
pleased."
"No doubt he was pleased," groaned the young oarsman.
"Was the thing worth much?"
"It was worth a good deal. I would have given five dollars to get it
back."
"What does he want with it?"
"Wants to do my father out of some property," answered our hero. "By the
way, who is that little girl who lives with you?"
At this question Crazy Jim's face darkened.
"That ain't none of your business," he growled.
"You shouldn't send her out on the street to beg."
"Wot! has she been blabbin' again? I'll break every bone in her body!" and
off the man started out of the room and down the narrow stairs.
Jerry had noticed that his breath smelt strongly of liquor. He was not
only a drinking man, but also one who was not quite right in his head.
"Don't hurt her, you brute!" called out the boy, and followed him out of
the alleyway into the street. At the nearest corner stood the little girl,
and Crazy Jim rushed up to her fiercely.
"You good-fer-nothin'!" he bawled. "I'll teach ye a lesson! Didn't I tell
ye ter keep yer clapper still about me? Take that! and that!"
He raised his heavy hand and struck her a cruel blow on the side of the
head. She staggered back, and he was about to repeat his unjust action,
when Jerry thought it about time to interfere. Catching him by the arm,
our hero hurled him backward with such force that he fell flat in the
gutter.
At once a shout went up from those who saw Jerry's action.
"What are yer doin'?"
"Who is that boy?"
With a fearful exclamation, Crazy Jim arose to his feet.
"I'll fix ye fer that!" he hissed, and sprang forward. "You ain't got no
right ter interfere between me an' the gal."
"You are a brute!" burst out our hero. "This little girl has done nothing
to deserve such punishment."
"Who set you over me?" howled the infuriated man. "I'll fix ye!"
He tried his best to hit Jerry with his fist, but the young oarsman dodged
him and took a stand in front of the little girl.
"You had better run away," Jerry whispered to her. "He is in a terrible
mood just now."
"Where shall I go?" whimpered the girl.
"Anywhere. Up two blocks. I will join you soon."
Without delay the little girl ran off. Crazy Jim tried to follow her, but
Jerry headed him off.
Seeing he could do nothing with his hands, the savage man looked around
for some weapon. A heavy stone was lying handy, and he picked it up. The
next moment it was launched at our hero's head.
Luckily, Jerry was quick at dodging, or he might have been seriously
wounded. The missile went sailing over the lad's head and flew with a
crash through the front window of a neighboring store.
The smashing of the pane of glass was followed by a shout of alarm from
the storekeeper, who sat in a chair on the pavement.
"Here, vot's dot?" he yelled. "Vot you means py preaking mine vinder, hey,
you Crazy Gim? I vos got you locked up. Ain't it? Bolice! bolice!"
The German storekeeper continued to yell so loudly that it was not long
before an officer appeared. Seeing this, Jerry backed out of the crowd and
hurried off. He saw the policeman catch Crazy Jim by the arm, and a wordy
war followed. A minute later the fellow was being marched off to the
station-house. No doubt the policeman would have liked it had he found
Jerry, but our hero kept at a safe distance.
It was now quite dark, and it was with some difficulty that Jerry again
found the little girl. She stood by a hitching post, sobbing bitterly.
"Where is he?" she asked, choking back her sobs.
"The policeman took him off. Don't cry any more," Jerry added,
soothingly.
"But where shall I go?" she asked. "I can't go back."
"Have you no friends?"
"No. Crazy Jim and I came to New York alone when papa died."
"Where did you come from?"
The little girl shook her head at this. She had been too young to
remember.
"What is your name?"
"Dottie."
"Dottie what?"
"Nothing, only Dottie."
Jerry was in a quandary. To a certain degree he felt responsible for her
present forlorn condition. Suddenly an idea struck him.
"If you will come with me, I'll see to it that you have a good bed
to-night, and breakfast in the morning," he said. "And after that I'll see
what I can do for you, Dottie."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Jerry Upton."
"You look like a nice boy and I'll go with you," and she placed her hand
confidently in that of the young oarsman.
Jerry took the little one to Nellie Ardell's apartments. Of course she was
much surprised, and, sitting down, our hero had to explain everything as
far as he was able. Nellie Ardell agreed instantly to take the little girl
in.
"You can stay here until we can do something for you," she said. "I know
how it would feel to have little Tommy on the streets homeless."
And soon after that Dottie was put to bed, very well content. Her hard
life with Crazy Jim had made her used to ups and downs that no ordinary
little girl could have endured.
The reader can well imagine that Jerry did not sleep much that night. He
could not forget that Alexander Slocum had the precious packet of papers.
Bitterly he regretted not having taken better care of the documents.
"I will call on Slocum, and come to some sort of an understanding," Jerry
said to himself. "Perhaps when I tell him that both Nellie Ardell and
myself are ready to proceed against him he will be willing to come to
terms."
The next day was a busy one at the book-bindery, and our hero got no
chance to call on Slocum. During that time he learned that Crazy Jim had
been locked up for resisting the officer and had been sentenced to thirty
days on Blackwell's Island.
The young oarsman did not know what to do about little Dottie, but Nellie
Ardell solved this question.
"I have received a whole lot of new work," she said. "So for the present
we can keep her to mind Tommy while I am dressmaking."
So the little girl stayed on. Jerry never dreamed of how much she had to
do with his future life.
On Thursday Mr. Islin's brother died and the bindery was closed for
several days. Jerry took the opportunity to walk down to Alexander
Slocum's offices.
The real estate man was alone, and greeted our hero with a sinister
smile.
"So you have seen fit to call again, young man," were his first words.
"Mr. Slocum, let us come to business," Jerry replied firmly. "What are you
going to do about my father's claim?"
Alexander Slocum laughed harshly.
"Your father's claim?" he repeated. "I don't recognize the fact that your
father has any claim against me."