A BAGGAGE SMASHER’S REVENGE
When Robert awoke in the morning it was eight o’clock and the steamer
lay quietly at its pier. Almost all the passengers had landed and he was
nearly alone on the great steamer.
Of course Mortimer Fairfax had gone with the rest; in fact, Fairfax was
one of the first to land. He had passed the remainder of the night in
the saloon, anxious, as long as he remained on board, lest Robert should
denounce him for his attempted theft.
Robert was a stranger in New York. He was instantly impressed by what he
could see of the great city from the deck of the steamer. He took his
valise In his hand and walked across the gangplank upon the pier. At the
entrance he was accosted by a hackman.
“Carriage, sir?”
“No,” answered Robert.
“I will carry you cheap.”
“What do you call cheap?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Astor House.”
This hotel had been suggested by the hermit.
“All right! Jump in!” and the hackman was about to take Robert’s
valise.
“Wait a moment,” said the lad firmly. “I haven’t agreed to ride. What do
you charge?”
“Two dollars.”
“Two dollars! How far is it?”
“About five miles!” answered the hackman with unblushing falsehood.
“Is there no stage that goes to that part of the city?”
“No; your only way is to take a carriage.”
Though Robert had never before been in New York, he felt convinced that
this was untrue and said quietly:
“Then I will walk.”
“It is too far, young man. Nobody walks up there.”
“Then I’ll be the first one to try it!” said Robert coolly.
“Wait a minute, youngster! I’ll take you for a dollar and a half.”
Robert did not answer, but crossed the street.
“Carry your bag, sir?” said a boy of about his own age, who seemed to be
waiting for a job.
“Do you know the way to the Astor House?” asked Robert.
“I ought to.”
“How far is it?”
“Half a mile.”
“That hack driver told me it was five miles.”
The boy grinned.
“He thought you were green,” he said. “Say, boss, shall I carry that
v’lise?”
“How much do you charge?”
“I’ll take it to Broadway for a quarter.”
“All right. I’ll pay it.”
“I see,” thought Robert, “I shall have to look out or I shall be
cheated. It seems to cost a good deal of money to travel.”
As Robert walked along he asked various questions of his young partner
as to the buildings which they passed. On reaching Broadway he said:
“I don’t care about riding. If you will walk along with me and carry the
valise I will pay you a quarter more.”
“All right. Only pay me the first quarter now,” said the boy
cautiously.
“Just as you like. Are you afraid I won’t pay you.”
“I dunno. I was served that way once.”
“How was it?”
“I was carryin’ a bag--a thunderin’ big bag it was, too--for a man to
this very hotel. I’d carried it about a mile; when we got there he took
it and was goin’ in without payin’ me.
“‘Look here, boss,’ I says, ‘you haven’t paid me.’
“‘Yes, I did,’ he says. ‘I paid you when you took the bag.’
“Then I knew he was a beat, and I made a fuss, I tell you, and follered
him into the hotel.
“‘What’s the matter?’ asked one of the hotel men, comin’ forrard.
“‘This boy wants me to pay him twice,’ he says.
“Of course, the hotel people took up for the man and kicked me out of
the hotel. I didn’t blame them so much, for who’d think of a gentleman
cheatin’ a poor boy?”
“That was pretty hard on you,” said Robert in a tone of sympathy. “He
must have been a mean man.”
“Mean? I guess he was. But I got even with him, and I didn’t wait long
neither.”
“How was that?”
“I got an egg and I laid for him. Toward night he come out, all dressed
up like as if he was goin’ to the theayter. I follered him, and when I
got a good chance I just hove it at him. I hit him just in his bosom,
and the egg was spattered over his face and clothes. He gave a yell and
then I dodged round the corner. Oh, it was rich to see how he looked! I
guess he’d better have paid me.”
Robert could not help laughing, and did not find it in his heart to
blame the boy who had chosen this summary way to redress his
grievances.
“I hope,” he said, “you haven’t got any eggs with you now.”
“Why, ain’t you goin’ to pay me?”
“Oh, yes, I mean to pay you. I wouldn’t cheat a poor boy. I’m a poor boy
myself.”
His guide looked at him in surprise.
“You a poor boy, with them clo’es?” he repeated. “If you was a poor boy
you wouldn’t pay me for carryin’ your baggage.”
“But would carry it myself?”
“Yes.”
“So I would, but I wanted somebody to guide me to the hotel. I am
traveling for a gentleman that pays the bills.”
“Oh, cricky! ain’t that jolly? Wouldn’t he like me to travel for him?”
“I guess not,” said Robert, laughing.
“If he should, just give a feller a chance.”
“I might, if I knew your name and where you live.”
“I left my cardcase at home on the pianner, along with my jewelry, but
my name’s Michael Burke. The boys call me Mike. I live at the Newsboys’
Lodge, when I’m at home.”
“All right, Mike; I’ll remember.”
The remainder of the walk was enlivened by conversation of a similar
kind. Though Mike was not much of a scholar, he was well informed on
local matters, and it was upon such points that Robert wished to be
posted.
When they reached the hotel Mike uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“Say, do you see that man in the doorway?” he asked eagerly.
“What of him?”
“He’s the very man that cheated me out of my pay--the man I hit wid an
egg. Here he is again.”
Robert surveyed the man with curious interest. He was a man of middle
age, well dressed, but with a hard, stern look upon his face. He was by
no means one likely to attract strangers.
“How do you know it is the same one?” asked Robert in a low voice.
“He’s got the same look. I’d remember him if it was a dozen years, but
it’s only six months.”
“But you might be mistaken.”
“I’ll show you whether I am. Come along.”
When they entered the vestibule of the hotel Mike paused a moment and,
in hearing of the stranger, said:
“Last night, as I was walkin’ along, I seed a man hit wid a rotten egg.
He looked mad enough to kill the one that throwed it.”
The stranger wheeled round and regarded Mike intently.
“Boy,” said he, “I think I’ve seen you before.”
“Maybe you have,” answered Mike coolly. “Lots of people has seen me.”
“Did you ever carry a valise for me?”
“Maybe I did. I’ve carried lots of ’em.”
“I think you once brought a valise for me to this very hotel.”
“How much did you pay me for doin’ it? Maybe I could tell by that.”
“I don’t know. I presume I paid you liberally.”
“Then I guess it was some other boy,” said Mike, grinning.
The gentleman looked puzzled, but just then a young man came up and
spoke to him, addressing him as “Mr. Waldo.”
Robert started at the sound of this name. He remembered that this was
the name of his employer’s cousin, who was suspected of abducting the
boy of whom he was in search.
Bidding good-by to his young guide, he registered his name and then
turned over the pages back. In the list of arrivals for the day before
he came upon this entry:
“Charles Waldo, Sullivan, Ohio.”
“It’s the very man!” he said to himself in excitement.