RALPH IN THE CITY.
Hardly knowing what to make of such rough and unexpected treatment, Ralph
staggered toward a large gateway close at hand. He passed through and found
himself on a narrow and dirty street, at the upper end of which were a
number of tenement houses and saloons.
"Where in the world am I?" he murmured to himself, as he passed his hand
over his forehead, from which the bandage had slipped. "What place can this
be?"
The cool night air braced the boy up, and soon he felt stronger. But he was
very thirsty, and was willing enough to stop at a nearby street fountain
for a drink.
He heard a distant bell strike twice, and he knew it must be two o'clock in
the morning. His involuntary ride had lasted over ten or twelve hours at
least--the length depending upon the time spent in the freight yard before
disturbed by the night watchman.
The street was practically deserted, saving for several men who were
staggering along under the influence of liquor. All the stores were closed.
"I must find some place to stay for the rest of the night, no matter what
place I am in," thought Ralph, and he walked on for a dozen blocks or
more, looking for a hotel or lodging-house.
At last he came to a place that was still partly open. Over the doorway was
the sign in gold letters:
ROYAL CROWN HOTEL,
Beds, 25 Cents per Night.
"Certainly not a very expensive place," thought Ralph, and he peered inside
to where a sleepy clerk sat dozing in a chair beside the desk.
Entering, he aroused the clerk, and asked if he could obtain
accommodations.
"Certainly," was the prompt reply. "Single room, one dollar; two beds,
seventy-five cents; six beds, a quarter. Which will you have?"
"Any place will do for me, so long as it's clean," returned the boy, who
was not inclined to be wasteful of his limited capital. The total amount in
his pockets was not over six dollars, part of which belonged to the boatman
for whom he worked.
"All our beds are clean," said the clerk, sharply. "Pay in advance,
please."
Ralph brought out a quarter and passed it over.
"Can I get a bite to eat anywhere before I go to bed?" he asked.
"There's an all-night lunchroom on the corner above."
"Thank you. I'll get something, for I have had no supper. I came in on a
train and went to sleep. I don't even know what place this is," Ralph went
on.
"Don't, eh? This is Jersey City."
Jersey City! Could it be possible! Then he had indeed taken a long trip.
Ralph knew that Jersey City lay just across the river from New York. A
short ride would take him into the great metropolis. Despite the fact that
he wished himself safe at home, the thought of seeing New York filled him
with pleasure.
"I must send word to mother that I am safe and tell her all of what has
happened, and then spend a day or two in New York before I go back," he
said to himself. "I may not get the chance of seeing the city again for a
long time."
Ralph found the all-night lunchroom without much trouble, and entering, he
sat down at one of the numerous tables. He was a well-read boy, and
therefore did not appear as "green" as he might otherwise have done.
A waiter soon came to serve him.
"What will you have?" he asked.
"What have you got?"
"All kinds of dairy dishes, tea, coffee, and oysters."
"I'll take an oyster stew."
"Anything else?"
"I guess not."
The stew was soon brought. It was a fairly good one, and the hungry boy ate
it with a great relish, consuming all of the crackers that went with it.
While he was eating, a short, stout man, with his arm done up in a sling,
entered the place, and after gazing around sharply, came and sat down close
to Ralph.
"How is the stew, pretty good?" he asked.
"I think so," returned the boy.
"All right, then. Waiter, an oyster stew."
While he was eating his stew the man began to converse with Ralph. He said
his name was Jackson Walters, and that he had just come into the city from
Toledo, Ohio.
"And I feel mighty strange," he added. "Do you know the city pretty well?"
"Not at all. I just got in myself," said Ralph.
"Indeed! Then we are in the same boat. Stopping with friends or at a
hotel?"
"I am going to stop at a hotel over night."
This reply seemed to please Jackson Walters, and he drew up closer,
hurrying to finish his stew at the same time.
"Good enough. Perhaps we can stop together. I feel rather lonely here," he
said.
"I am afraid my hotel wouldn't be good enough for you," replied Ralph,
honestly. "I didn't want to waste my money, and so chose a cheap place."
"Well, I want something cheap, too," said Jackson Walters. He was more
pleased than ever over the idea that Ralph had money even if he did not
care to spend it.
"Where is the hotel?"
"Just down the street a step. I will show you if you wish it."
"Let us take a room together," suggested Jackson Walters, as they left the
restaurant. "I hate to go in among perfect strangers, don't you?"
"Yes, but it couldn't be helped. I took a quarter bed, and there are six in
a room."
"Humph! six! That's too many. How much do they want for a room for two?"
"Seventy-five cents each."
"Then I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll pay the dollar if you'll pay the
fifty cents. Those rooms with six beds in are vile."
Ralph hesitated a moment, and then said he was agreeable. He, too, did not
imagine, after some reflection, that the bed for a quarter of a dollar
could be very good.
They soon reached the hotel, and Jackson Walters explained the new
arrangement to the clerk. Ralph paid over another twenty-five cents, and
his new friend the dollar, and then a boy was called to conduct them to
room No. 96, on the third floor.
"Call me at half-past seven," said Jackson Walters. "I don't know when you
want to get up," he said to Ralph.
"That will suit me, sir," was the boy's reply.
He usually arose at an earlier hour, but thought he deserved a longer rest,
considering what he had passed through.
The boy led them up two flights of narrow stairs, and showed them the room,
at the same time lighting the gas. He had brought a pitcher of water with
him, and placing this on the washstand, he left, closing the door behind
him.
The room was plainly but neatly furnished, and although the bed was
scratched and old-fashioned, it was clean. It did not take Ralph long to
undress and get under the covers.
"Do you sleep with a light?" asked Jackson Walters. "I never do."
"Nor I."
So the gas was put out, and a moment later Ralph's companion retired also.
In a few minutes he began to breathe heavily, as though in the soundest of
slumbers.
But this was all sham. He was far from being asleep, as the sequel soon
showed.
Ten minutes later Ralph fell asleep, to dream of home and all that had been
left behind.
In a few minutes after this, Jackson Walters crawled from the bed, and
began to don his clothing silently, but in great haste. He put on his
stockings, but he placed his shoes in his coat pockets.
This done, he took up Ralph's clothing from where it lay on a chair. With a
dexterity worthy of a better cause, he went through the pockets, searching
for everything of value.
His nefarious task was soon accomplished. Ralph slept on unconscious, and
did not awaken when Jackson Walters opened the door and glided out.
The thief was soon below. The clerk dozed away in the office, and in his
stocking feet the man had no difficulty in passing out of the building
without being noticed.
Once on the pavement he slipped on his shoes.
"Not much of a haul, but a good deal better than nothing," he chuckled to
himself, and disappeared down the street which led toward the ferries.