AN ENGAGEMENT
It was necessary for Jet to inquire the way to the depot spoken of by
his new acquaintance, and after arriving there his helplessness seemed
more apparent than before.
Passengers coming and going paid no attention to the boy, save to push
him out of their road, and he was even more alone in the hurrying
throng than he had been on the street.
After wandering to and fro, trying to screw up courage enough to ask
the conductor for a free ride, and failing in the effort because none
of the train hands would give him an opportunity to speak with them, he
sat down on a truck and mechanically plunged his hands in his pockets.
The paper purchased on the evening previous was the only thing which
met his touch.
"I might as well find out about this murder," he said to himself, as he
unfolded the printed sheet. "When a feller is readin' he kinder
forgets how hungry he is, I reckon."
To give the printed account in all its details would require too much
space, since there were no less than five columns in Jet's paper.
The substance was to the effect that a well-known merchant, residing on
East Twentieth Street, had been found on the floor of his library the
previous morning, his skull crushed in as if with some heavy instrument
like a crow-bar, or a burglar's jimmy, and the safe, which was known to
have contained money and bonds to the amount of forty-six thousand
dollars, was broken open and empty.
The theory of the detectives was that thieves had entered the dwelling
for the purpose of robbery; but having been surprised by the owner,
killed him in order to make good their escape.
A large tuft of hair in the dead man's hand told that he had grappled
with his murderers, and the overturned furniture spoke of a long and
desperate struggle.
Singular as it may seem none of the other occupants of the house had
heard any unusual noise, although the uproar must have been great for
some moments, nor was any shock perceived when the safe door had been
blown off.
It was as the paper stated, the most mysterious of the many
detective-baffling crimes which had been committed in New York city,
because of the fact that such a deed could have been done without
alarming any one in the vicinity.
Nothing was said regarding the men for whom Jet had carried the
satchel, because at the time the article had been written the police
were not in possession of this very valuable clew.
Jet had finished reading the article, and was studying the matter in
his mind without being able to arrive at any definite conclusion
regarding the course he should pursue, except that he was eager to
follow the men who had treated him so roughly, when a stranger halted
directly in front of him.
"You don't seem to be very busy."
"It kinder looks that way for a fact."
"Taking a vacation?"
"A good deal more of a one than I want. I'd like to pick up some kind
of a job that would pay a little money between now an' bedtime."
"Live here?"
"In New York. A couple of duffers hired me to come here, an' then
skipped without payin'."
"So you're stranded?"
"You'd think so if you didn't have a blessed cent, an' was hungry
enough to eat up the whole town."
"Do you want to earn money to take you back to the city?"
"I'd rather go to Cooperstown Junction."
"Then you'd be worse off than you are here, for it isn't any town."
"That's where I want to go all the same."
"I can give you a chance if you'll work your way."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I've got a minstrel company on the road, and wouldn't mind paying the
traveling expenses of a smart boy who will distribute programmes and
make himself generally useful."
"A show! Say, I can do a mighty good turn at dancin', and give some of
these fellers what think they know it all, a few points."
"Step out and let me see what you can do."
Jet was by no means bashful; in a few seconds he was dancing as
spiritedly as if such discomforts as hunger and fatigue were unknown.
"You'll do," the stranger said, approvingly, when the boy ceased his
efforts. "I'll take you along, and pay a little something if you'll do
a turn."
"You can bet your life I will, but I don't want to go any farther than
Cooperstown Junction."
"Very well, there'll be plenty of time to talk about that part of the
business, for we shall make three stands between here and there. Take
this money to buy something in the way of a lunch, and in twenty
minutes we'll start."
Jet was overjoyed.
By this arrangement he saw an opportunity to follow the alleged
murderers, and at the same time earn money to return to New York if
necessary.
Probably if he had told his new employer the whole story that gentleman
would have advised him to call upon the inspector without delay, rather
than try to run the criminals down himself.
As it was, however, he believed he knew exactly what course to pursue,
and had little doubt as to succeeding.
Two sandwiches and three boiled eggs were the provisions he purchased
to break his long fast, and when the train drew out of the depot the
amateur dancer, seated by the side of his employer, thought he was very
fortunate.
Cobleskill was the town where Jet was to make his first bow before the
public, and with a costume which was rather "off color" because of
having been contributed in fragments by the different members of the
company, he stepped on the stage feeling just a trifle nervous.
To the surprise of his professional companions Jet gave a really
presentable performance.
It is true some of his steps were not exactly artistic, but he made up
in quantity what might have been lacking in quality, and the applause
received was enough to make him proud.
"Say, my boy, you'll make a success of this thing if you do a little
studying," the manager exclaimed when Jet finished his turn. "I'll
give you ten dollars a week and pay all your expenses if you want to
keep on the road with us."
"I don't reckon I'll stay more than the three nights we talked about,
'cause you see I've got some work to do when we strike Cooperstown
Junction."
"You'll be glad enough to drop it when you see what kind of a place it
is."
During the remainder of the evening Jet had nothing to do save watch
the other performers from the wings, and but for the fear that the
inspector might send an officer to arrest him, he would have enjoyed
himself hugely.
On the following day he took part in the street parade at the next
stopping place, and during the afternoon read everything concerning the
tragedy he could find in the hotel reading-room papers.
He did not gain any great amount of information, however.
The particulars of the murder were related at greater length, and it
was said that several promising clews were being followed, but no
details were given concerning the work of the detectives.
"Jest as likely as not I'll surprise people before this thing is over.
If I can get on the track of them men Something is goin' to happen for
a fact."
He had already begun to speculate on the anticipated triumph when he
should, unaided, bring the guilty men to justice, as his gaze fell on
an advertisement displayed in large type:
INFORMATION WANTED.
A suitable reward will be paid for information as to the whereabouts of
Jethro Lewis. The said boy is fourteen years of age, medium size,
curly hair, and when last seen wore a suit of grey clothes with a
district messenger's cap, on which were the figures 48.
Address
X. Y. Z., _Herald_ office.
"The inspector is after me," Jet whispered as the paper fell from his
grasp. "Now my jig is up, an' I reckon there's no chance but that I'll
have to go to jail."
Jet tore the advertisement from the sheet lest it should be seen by
some member of the company, and then went at once to the theater, where
he could remain screened from view of the townspeople.
The one thought in his mind was that all would be well if he could get
on the track of those who had kidnapped him, and he blamed himself
severely for not having gone straight on to Cooperstown Junction,
instead of remaining with the company, but how that might have been
done while he was penniless was something he did not attempt to solve.
"I won't stay any longer than to-night," he said to himself as the
curtain was raised for the evening's performance, and the stage manager
warned him to be ready for his cue. "There must be some way of getting
over to that place without waiting for the company."
On this night he felt more confidence in himself, having had two
rehearsals with the leader of the orchestra, and at the signal went
before the audience confidently.
On the previous performance he had not dared to look at the people, but
kept his eyes on the stage. Now, however, he glanced around, and the
dance was hardly begun before he brought it to a close, the musicians
gazing at him in surprise.
The cause of his sudden stopping was startling enough to have
disconcerted a much older performer.
Facing him, and not more than two rows of seats from the stage, sat the
two men he was so anxious to meet.
"Go on!" the leader of the orchestra whispered hoarsely, and from the
wings he heard the angry command of the stage manager:
"Get to work, boy! Do you want to queer the whole show?"
Jet nerved himself to begin the dance, but he was so exceedingly
awkward that several of the audience guyed him, a fact which deprived
him of the small remnant of self-possession remaining.
Without stopping to consider what the result might be, he ran at full
speed from the stage, and the spectators hooted and yelled derisively.
"What is the matter with you?" the manager asked fiercely, as he shook
Jet until his teeth chattered.
"Them men are there!" the boy cried brokenly. "I must go right out an'
get hold of them."
"You'll go and stay, you little villain! If you couldn't dance I
wouldn't say a word, but I know what you are able to do. Where are you
off to now?"
"I want to change these clothes so's I can go around to the front of
the house."
"What for?"
"Them men are there, an' I've got to find out where they're stopping."
"What are they to you?
"Don't stop to ask questions now, but let me go!" Jet cried,
impatiently, as he tore himself from the angry man's grasp, threw off
the stage costume and ran from the building.
With no idea his enemies had recognized him, he continued on without
fear until reaching the corner of the building, where one of the men
was standing half hidden by the shadow.
The fellow's hand was raised, and as Jet came up he struck the boy a
crashing blow on the head with a stout stick, felling him to the ground
like one suddenly deprived of life.