AFLOAT IN NEW YORK.
Once out on the street again, Nelson did not know which way to turn or
what to do. He was bewildered, for the scene between Gertrude and her
uncle had been more than half a mystery to him.
"He suspects her of stealing, but I don't," he told himself bluntly.
"Such a girl, with such eyes, would never steal. He wouldn't think so if
he was in his right mind. I guess his sickness has turned his brain."
And in the latter surmise our hero was partly correct.
Slowly he walked to the end of the block, then, struck by a sudden
thought, came back. If the young lady did really come out, he meant to
see her and have another talk with her.
The newsboy was still some distance from the mansion when, on looking
across the way, he saw the door of the house in which Homer Bulson lived
open, and a second later beheld Sam Pepper come out.
"Gracious--Sam!" he cried to himself, and lost no time in hiding behind
a convenient stoop. Soon Pepper passed by, and our hero saw him continue
on his way along Fifth Avenue until Fifty-ninth Street was reached.
"He's going home," thought Nelson. "I ought to get down there before
him. What will he say if he finds me missing?"
He was now more perplexed than ever. What had Sam Pepper been doing in
the house in which Homer Bulson lived? Had the man robbed that place,
and had he himself made a mistake in regard to the Horton mansion?
"It's too deep for me," he mused. "I'll never get to the bottom of it.
But that young lady--hullo, here she comes, sure enough!"
He stepped behind the stoop again and waited. In a moment Gertrude
passed him. Evidently the darkness and the strange silence frightened
her. When Nelson came out of his hiding place she started back.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Is it you?"
"Yes, miss. I--I was wondering if you would really leave," he answered.
"There was nothing else for me to do."
"He is your uncle?"
"Yes. He is Mark Horton and I am Gertrude Horton, his dead brother's
only child."
"He treated you mighty bad for a brother's child."
"My father was poor and Uncle Mark has taken care of me for years. He
wanted me to marry my cousin, Homer Bulson, and it made him angry when I
refused."
"Homer Bulson!" cried Nelson. "I don't wonder you didn't want to marry
him."
"Do you know my cousin?"
"I've met him. He tried to cheat a friend of mine out of a sale of some
books. He acted the sneak."
"It seems my uncle's heart has been set on this marriage," went on
Gertrude.
"But that didn't give him the right to call you a thief," put in our
hero warmly.
"To be sure it did not. But--but--who are you?"
"I'm Nelson."
"You said that before. What is your real name?"
At this Nelson hung his head.
"I don't know what my real name is, Miss Gertrude. They all call me
Nelson the Newsboy. I live with a man named Pepper. He keeps a
lunch-room on the East Side, and I sell papers for a living. I don't
know where I came from."
"It is too bad. But you are better off than I am--you have a home," she
added, her eyes filling again with tears.
"Don't you worry. I'll help you all I can," said Nelson sympathetically.
"But about this affair of the safe--I can't make head or tail of that."
"Nor can I, Nelson. I came downstairs, having heard some strange noises.
But everything seemed to be all right. Then I looked out of the window
and saw you."
"I saw a man go into the alleyway, back of the house," answered our hero
lamely. "I'll be real truthful with you and tell you that I know the
man, and that he has done lots of good things for me. Well, I thought
the man got into that library window, although it was pretty dark and I
might have been mistaken."
"The window was locked when I went to open it."
"You are certain of that?"
"I am."
"Then I must have made a mistake." And our hero drew a sigh of relief.
Perhaps, after all, Sam Pepper was innocent.
"One thing is sure, some money was gone, and we found those gold pieces
on the floor," went on Gertrude. "Who could have opened the safe?"
"Who knew the combination beside your uncle?"
"Myself--he told me last month--when he had his last bad spell."
"Nobody else--that cousin, for instance?"
"I don't believe Mr. Bulson knew it."
"Then that's what made it look black for you. The safe wasn't forced
open, that's sure. Somebody opened it who knew the combination."
"The money might have been taken some time ago," said Gertrude. "Anyway,
it is gone, and you and I are supposed to be the thieves." She smiled
bitterly. "How strange! and we hardly know each other!"
"And I don't see any way of clearing ourselves," said the newsboy, with
equal bitterness. "But let that drop. What are you going to do? Going to
some friend's house?"
"I have no friends here. You see, we came from Philadelphia, and I am
not much acquainted as yet."
"Then you'll go to Philadelphia? If you wish, I'll carry that bag and
see you to the train."
"No, I'm not going to Philadelphia. I would rather remain in New York,
near my uncle. He may need me some day."
"He's a hard-hearted man!" burst out the newsboy. "I don't see how he
could treat you so mean!"
"It is his sickness makes him so, Nelson; he was never so before."
Gertrude heaved a long sigh. "I must say I really do not know what to
do."
"I know a hotel on Third Avenue, but it's not a very nice place."
"No, I don't wish to go there. If I could think of some friend----"
"Did your uncle send you away without any money?"
"I took only the clothing I needed, nothing more."
"Then I'll give you what I've got," answered Nelson promptly, and drew
out what little money he possessed.
"No; I won't rob you, Nelson. But you are very, very kind."
"It aint any robbery," he answered. "Come, you must take it." And he
forced it into her hand. "I know an old lady who'll take you in," he
continued suddenly. "Her name is Mrs. Kennedy. She's only a fruit and
candy woman, but she's got a heart as big as a balloon. She's a nice,
neat woman, too."
The matter was talked over for a few minutes, and Gertrude consented to
go to the two rooms which Mrs. Kennedy called her home.
These were close to Third Avenue, and late as it was, they boarded a
train and rode down. The building was dark, and Nelson had some trouble
in rousing the old woman.
"To be sure I'll take the lady in, Nelson," said Mrs. Kennedy, when the
situation was partly explained. "Come in, miss, and welcome."
Gertrude was glad enough to enter and drop into a chair, and here our
hero left her, and at once hurried down to the lunch-room with all
speed.
Not wishing to arouse Sam Pepper if he was asleep, he went around to the
rear window, opened that, and crawled through.
To his surprise Pepper was not there.
"I'm lucky, after all," he thought, and undressed with all speed. Hardly
had he crawled into bed when Pepper came in. He lit the gas and looked
at our hero, but Nelson snored and pretended to be fast asleep. Sam
appeared relieved at this, and soon retired. His bag, which he had
brought with him, he placed under his bed, in a corner next to the wall.
The newsboy could not sleep, and from the time he lay down until
daylight appeared he turned and tossed on his cot, reviewing in a
hundred ways all that had occurred. But he could reach no satisfactory
conclusion. The one thing, however, which remained fixed in his mind was
that Gertrude Horton was now homeless, and he felt that he must, in
some measure at least, look out for her.
"I don't suppose I can do much," he thought dismally. "But what I can do
I will, that's certain."
Long before Sam Pepper was stirring Nelson was up and dressed. As he was
going out Pepper roused up.
"Where are you bound?" he asked.
"Going to sell papers."
"You're starting early to-day."
"I've got to hustle, if I want to make any money." And so speaking,
Nelson left the place.
He was soon down at "Newspaper Row," as it is commonly called, that part
of Park Row and Nassau Street where are congregated the offices of
nearly all of the metropolitan dailies. He had not a cent in his pocket,
but this did not bother him. He soon found Paul Randall, who was being
shoved right and left in the big crowd of boys who all wanted to get
papers at once.
"What papers do you want, Paul?" he asked.
The little newsboy told him, and Nelson said he would get them for him.
"And I'd like to borrow a dollar, Paul," he went on. "I had to give up
every cent I had."
"That's too bad, Nelson," replied Paul. "I can't loan you a dollar. All
I've got extra is sixty-five cents. You can have that."
"Then I'll make that do," said our hero.
He took all of Paul's money and started into the crowd, to get papers
for his friend and himself.
He was struggling to get to the front when, on chancing to look to one
side, he caught sight of Billy Darnley, the newsboy bully who had robbed
him of the five dollars.