Produced by David Garcia, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Kentuckiana Digital Library)
LEFT BEHIND
OR
TEN DAYS A NEWSBOY
By JAMES OTIS
AUTHOR OF "TOBY TYLER" "MR. STUBBS'S BROTHER"
"RAISING THE 'PEARL'" ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED_
NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
[Illustration: LEFT BEHIND OR TEN DAYS A NEWSBOY]
[Illustration: SHE FED HIM PATIENTLY. [_p. 120._]
HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE SERIES.
=Illustrated. Square 16mo, Cloth, $1 00 per volume.=
CAPTAIN POLLY. By SOPHIE SWETT.
UNCLE PETER'S TRUST; or, Following the Drums. By GEORGE B.
PERRY.
DORYMATES. A Tale of the Fishing Banks. By KIRK MUNROE.
CHRYSTAL, JACK, & CO., AND DELTA BIXBY. Two stories. By
KIRK MUNROE.
DERRICK STERLING. By KIRK MUNROE.
THE FLAMINGO FEATHER. By KIRK MUNROE.
WAKULLA: A Story of Adventure in Florida. By KIRK MUNROE.
STRANGE STORIES FROM HISTORY. By GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON.
THE ICE QUEEN. By ERNEST INGERSOLL.
PRINCE LAZYBONES, AND OTHER STORIES. By MRS. W. J. HAYS.
WHO WAS PAUL GRAYSON? By JOHN HABBERTON, Author of
"Helen's Babies."
TWO ARROWS. A Story of Red and White. By W. O. STODDARD.
THE TALKING LEAVES. An Indian Story. By W. O. STODDARD.
INTO UNKNOWN SEAS; or, The Cruise of Two Sailor-Boys. By
DAVID KER.
THE LOST CITY; or, The Boy Explorers in Central Asia. By
DAVID KER.
THE FOUR MACNICOLS. By WILLIAM BLACK.
THE HOUSEHOLD OF GLEN HOLLY. By LUCY C. LILLIE.
JO'S OPPORTUNITY. By LUCY C. LILLIE.
ROLF HOUSE. By LUCY C. LILLIE.
MUSIC AND MUSICIANS. By LUCY C. LILLIE.
NAN. By LUCY C. LILLIE.
MILDRED'S BARGAIN, AND OTHER STORIES. By LUCY C. LILLIE.
THE COLONEL'S MONEY. By LUCY C. LILLIE.
SILENT PETE; or, The Stowaways. By JAMES OTIS.
RAISING THE "PEARL." By JAMES OTIS.
LEFT BEHIND; or, Ten Days a Newsboy. By JAMES OTIS.
TIM AND TIP; or, The Adventures of a Boy and a Dog. By
JAMES OTIS.
MR. STUBBS'S BROTHER. A Sequel to "Toby Tyler." By JAMES
OTIS.
TOBY TYLER; or, Ten Weeks with a Circus. By JAMES OTIS.
A NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE. By W. L. ALDEN.
THE MORAL PIRATES. By W. L. ALDEN.
THE CRUISE OF THE "GHOST." By W. L. ALDEN.
THE CRUISE OF THE CANOE CLUB. By W. L. ALDEN.
THE ADVENTURES OF JIMMY BROWN. Edited by W. L. ALDEN.
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.
--> _Any of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, to
any part of the United States, Canada, or Mexico, on receipt of the
price._
Copyright 1884, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I. PAUL'S INTRODUCTION TO NEW YORK 9
II. STARTING IN BUSINESS 22
III. MAKING ACQUAINTANCES 34
IV. A GREAT ENTERPRISE 48
V. MESSRS. TREAT, JONES, WESTON, AND DOWD 60
VI. THE THEATRICAL ENTERPRISE 73
VII. ARTISTS AND PRINTERS 86
VIII. AN AUTHOR'S TRIALS 99
IX. THE MOMENTOUS OCCASION 111
X. THE FIRST ACT 121
XI. THE EVENING'S ENTERTAINMENT 133
XII. A GENEROUS ACT 146
XIII. A JOYFUL MEETING 159
XIV. A DAY'S PLEASURING 172
XV. THE GREAT SURPRISE 185
XVI. IN CONCLUSION 197
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
SHE FED HIM PATIENTLY. _Frontispiece._
HE SHOWED THEM IN PROOF OF THE TRUTHFULNESS
OF HIS STORY. 11
"IF YOU PICK ANY ROW WITH HIM, YOU PICK IT
WITH ME AND JOHNNY." 31
PAUL LOOKED ON AT THESE PREPARATIONS WITH THE
MOST PROFOUND SURPRISE. 45
"FELLERS! DO YOU KNOW WHAT WE CAN DO UP HERE?" 57
"MULTIPLICATION IS VEXATION." 67
"HOW'S BIZ, DICK?" 81
ALL COULD SEE THE RESEMBLANCE AT ONCE. 91
"WHO PUT THAT UP?" 103
HOLDING BOTH WEAPONS IN FRONT OF HIM, HE LOOKED
READY FOR INSTANT FLIGHT. 127
DICKEY FOUND HIMSELF IN THE MIDST OF A
BLOOD-THIRSTY CROWD. 141
"MISTER WESTON," SAID BEN, GRAVELY. 155
THEY STOOD IN A ROW BEFORE THE CLERK OF THE
FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL. 163
AT CONEY ISLAND. 179
BEN AND JOHNNY ALONE IN THE NEW STORE. 189
"THREE CHEERS FOR POLLY!" 201
LEFT BEHIND;
OR, TEN DAYS A NEWSBOY.
CHAPTER I.
PAUL'S INTRODUCTION TO NEW YORK.
He was a stray boy, with a very strange story. The two ragged boys,
one of whom had a bundle of papers under his arm, and the other the
outfit of a boot-black slung over his shoulder, thought that at the
best he was stretching the truth to an alarming degree, even though
his manner appeared to bear out what he said.
He had met these two boys at the corner of Cortlandt and West streets,
in New York City, and had stated his case to them, believing that they
could tell him what to do. This was the story he told:
The family, consisting of his father, mother, sister, and himself, had
come from Chicago for the purpose of sailing in a steamer--which one
he was unable to say--for Europe. They went directly from the cars to
the pier, and had gone on board the huge vessel which was to be their
home while crossing the Atlantic. After they had been there some time,
and he could see no evidences that the steamer was about to start, he
had asked his mother's permission to go on deck for the purpose of
making the acquaintance of a boy about his own age, whom he had seen
when they first came on board. The attempt at making the acquaintance
was so successful that in five minutes they were firm friends, and in
as many more had laid all kinds of plans for future enjoyment.
Both the boys claimed to excel in the art of kinging the ring; but,
unfortunately, neither one had a top with him. Then this one who was
telling the story proposed that he should go on shore and buy two,
while the other remained to inform the absent boy's parents where he
had gone.
He had had some difficulty in finding a top to suit him, and he
thought that he must have spent at least an hour in the search. When
at last he had procured two good ones--and he showed them in proof of
the truthfulness of his story--he was nearly as long again in finding
his way back to the steamer. Not knowing the name of the vessel, nor
the line to which she belonged, he was obliged to visit each pier in
succession, in order to find the right one.
[Illustration: HE SHOWED THEM IN PROOF OF THE TRUTHFULNESS OF HIS
STORY.]
When, from the appearance of the buildings opposite, he knew that he
was back again to the point from which he had started, he learned to
his dismay that the steamer had been gone fully an hour. At first he
could hardly realize that he had been left behind, while his parents
had started on such a long voyage, and he could not account for the
neglect of his newly-made friend in not telling them that he had gone
on shore, unless it was owing to the fact that he had neglected to
point out his father, or to tell what his name was.
After he had fully realized that he was alone in a great city, with no
means of providing himself with food and shelter, save through the
medium of two very nice tops and six cents, he started in search of
the depot which they had arrived at, intending to take the next train
back to Chicago, providing the conductor would take his tops in
payment. But he could not find the depot, and at nearly seven o'clock
in the evening he had stopped to ask advice from two boys of about his
own age--neither one of them was over eleven years old--in the hope
that they could straighten matters out for him.
These two were very much inclined to doubt his story until he showed
the tops as proof, and even then they would have looked upon some
portions of it as false had he not also produced the six cents, and
with three of them stood treat all round to that sticky delicacy
known as "pea-nut taffy."
Then they believed all he had told them, and adjourning to a very
broad door-step near by, they sat down to consult upon what it was
best for him to do. To begin with, and in order that he might
understand the case fully, one of the boys asked, as he struggled with
the sticky dainty,
"What's yer name?"
"Paul Weston," replied the stranger.
"Well, my name's Johnny Jones, though the boys call me Shiner," said
the boy with the papers under his arm, "an' my chum here's named Ben
Treat. Now you know us; an' we'll call you Polly, so's to make you
feel more's if you was home."
Paul was not just certain as to how far this nickname would go towards
making him feel at home, but he did not venture to make any remark
upon it, preferring rather that his own condition, and how he could
better it, should be the subject under discussion.
Johnny Jones told him at once that his idea of trying to get home by
the cars without money enough in his pocket to buy his ticket was an
impossibility; for he and Ben had tried riding on the cars without
paying for it, even a short distance, and had always come to grief
because of either the conductor or the brakemen, whom they looked upon
as the natural enemies of boys. It was useless, therefore, to think
of getting to Chicago in that way, and Johnny appealed to Ben to
decide whether he was right or not.
"It's jest as Shiner says," replied Ben, rubbing the end of his nose
thoughtfully, as if he believed that gave him more of an air of
wisdom. "You couldn't git as far as Newark in a week, 'less you
walked, an' you'd better not try it."
"But what shall I do?" asked Paul, in such distress that even the
candy failed to soothe him.
"I don't see but one way," said Johnny, gravely, as he took the lump
of sweetness from his mouth, lest it should dissolve while he was not
able to give it his undivided attention, and he thus lose a portion of
the treat. "You'll have to stay here till yer earn money enough ter
pay for a whole ticket."
"But how much will that be?" asked Paul, astounded at the careless way
with which the boy spoke of such an undertaking.
"I dunno; but it'll be a good deal. We'll find out termorrer." Then
Johnny turned his attention to the candy again.
"But I can't earn any money;" and now Paul was on the verge of crying.
"Of course yer can," replied Ben, decidedly. "Yer can sell papers like
Shiner does, or yer can get a box, an' go inter the same bizness I'm
in. Ef yer smart, yer'll git three or four dollars a week, 'cordin' to
the weather."
Paul opened his eyes wide with surprise as this enormous amount was
spoken of, and he almost forgot his grief in the visions of wealth
that floated through his brain.
"Shiner an' I hain't got much money in our pockets," continued Ben,
"'cause we're buyin' some real estate, an' we put it all in that 'bout
as fast as we git it; but we can patch up an' lend you enough to start
with, an' you can pay it back when you git the chance."
Surely Paul thought he was fortunate in having made the acquaintance
of two boys who were so well off in this world's goods as Ben and
Johnny, and his position did not seem nearly as bad as it had half an
hour ago, even though it was nearly dark, and he had no idea where he
should sleep that night.
He did not know, any more than his newly-made friends did, that by
telling his story to the police he would be taken care of until his
relatives in Chicago could be written to, and he believed that he must
depend upon his own exertions to get home. Therefore he eagerly
accepted the generous offer.
"But where can I live?" he asked, as the thought came to him that even
though a chance for making himself rich had suddenly presented itself,
he was still without a home.
"Didn't Ben tell yer that we'd been 'vestin' our money in real
estate?" asked Johnny, almost impatiently, and speaking rather
indistinctly because of his mouth being so filled with candy. "We've
got a place we bought of Dickey Spry, an' you can stay with us if you
pay your share."
Paul was willing to go into any extravagances for the sake of having a
home, provided his two tops, and the three cents still remaining of
his wealth, was sufficient to make the first payment. This he told his
friends.
"Shiner didn't mean that you was to pay it right down," said Ben,
quickly. "After you git to makin' money for yourself, all you've got
to do is to buy your share of the things."
As that was only just, Paul agreed to it, and Johnny, who had by this
time succeeded in eating the dark-colored mixture that was by courtesy
called candy, started off to dispose of the papers he still held under
his arm, while Ben led Paul away with him.
"Johnny has got to 'tend right up to biz," said Ben, in a
half-explanatory way, "or else he'd git stuck, you know."
"Would he?" asked Paul, in evident alarm. "Who would stick him?"
Ben looked at this young gentleman from Chicago in surprise, and then
in pity. He could not understand how any one, and more especially a
boy, could be so ignorant of the meaning of one of the most common
words of slang. At first he looked as if he was about to reprove such
ignorance; but he evidently thought better of it, for he said,
instead,
"I mean that he'd be stuck by havin' a lot of this afternoon's papers
left over on his hands, an' he couldn't sell 'em termorrer, you know."
Paul really looked relieved to know that no worse danger threatened
Johnny; and as he walked along with Ben, the latter said:
"Yer see, Shiner would have been about through work if we hadn't met
you, an' fooled away so much of our time. Now it'll take him quite a
while to sell out, an' so you an' I might as well go down to ther
house. I've had a pretty fair day's work, an' I'll git up such a
supper as'll make Shiner's eyes stick out more'n a foot."
Just then they were opposite a grocery store, and he went in to begin
the work of making his companion's eyes stick out. It was with the air
of one who felt able to purchase at least half the store contained, in
case he should want to, that he ordered half a pound of bologna
sausage, a pound of crackers, and two candles. He was also very
careful to see that he was given full weight.
Paul was a little mystified as to what share the candles could have in
extending Johnny's eyes; but he thought it better to wait the course
of events, rather than to ask any questions.
When Ben had been served, and there had been quite a delay in paying
for the articles, owing to his inability to count his money three
times, and have it amount to the same sum each time, he came out and
completed his purchases by buying a quart of pea-nuts at a stand near
by.
"There," Ben said, with evident satisfaction, as he gave Paul one of
the bundles to carry, "I guess when Shiner gets home, an' finds all
these things, he'll think we're havin' a reg'lar party."
Paul agreed very mildly to this assertion, for he had not been
accustomed to look upon such an assortment as much of a treat, and
already he began to have vague misgivings as to the value of the real
estate Ben had spoken of so proudly.
To Paul, tired as he was from the walking he had already done, and the
excitement through which he had passed, it seemed as if they would
never reach this place which Ben called home, for his guide turned up
one street and down another until he was quite worn out.
"That's the place, jest ahead there," said Ben, in a cautious whisper,
as he halted at the corner of a street, and pointed to a small yard in
the rear of what seemed to be a warehouse. "That's the place, but
we've got to look out that nobody don't see us."
Paul believed that his companion referred to the building, and he was
surprised to find it so large; yet why they had come around to the
rear was more than he could understand.
"Now you keep right behind me, an' you come quick," said Ben, as he
looked carefully around to assure himself that there was no one in
sight.
Paul followed the directions, wondering why one was obliged to use
such precautions in getting into his own house, and Ben led the way,
not into the building, but over the fence and down into the yard,
where was stored empty boxes and barrels of every description.
As if he was perfectly familiar with the way, Ben went among the boxes
to the farther end of the yard, where there was a hogshead and a large
packing-case close together. He pulled the case a few inches
aside--for it had been placed directly in front of the hogshead--and
whispered,
"Get in, quick!"
Paul obeyed, hardly believing that this could be the real estate his
companions had spoken of, and Ben followed him, pulling the box
against the hogshead again so adroitly as to betoken considerable
practice.
When one of the candles was lighted, and stuck into an empty
ink-bottle that served as candlestick, Paul was able to see the
interior, and he stared at it in surprise.
The case was evidently used as a place in which to keep their food,
and as a sort of general storehouse, for an old coat was lying neatly
folded up in one corner, and opposite it were several tin cans, all
showing more or less marks of age, and in a battered condition.
The hogshead had been lined with old newspapers, and from the fact
that quite a quantity of straw covered the bottom, it was easy to see
that this was the sleeping-room.
"There!" said Ben, triumphantly, "you can stay here an' live off the
fat of the land jest as long as you want to."
And Paul never realized that, if he had tried, he could not have
hidden himself more completely from those who might be searching for
him, than by thus sharing the fortunes of these two Arabs of the
street.