SOME NEW EXPERIENCES
Roy passed out through the outer rooms of Caleb Annister's suite of
offices. He noted the eavesdropping act of the boy, but said nothing
to the small chap, who seemed much embarrassed. Then Roy, with his
head somewhat in a whirl over what he had just gone through, went into
the tiled corridor.
He got into an elevator, but, no sooner had the attendant closed the
iron-grilled door than the car seemed to fall to the bottom of the
elevator well with a sickening suddenness.
"Look out!" cried the boy from the ranch, startled out of his reverie
concerning Mr. Annister, by the fear that the car had broken from the
cable. "She's going to smash!" he cried.
Down, down, down fell the car, but, to Roy's surprise no one seemed to
mind it. To him it felt, as he expressed it, "as if the bottom had
dropped out of his stomach."
Roy clung to one side of the iron grating which formed the car. Every
moment he expected the cage to be dashed to pieces. Then some one
laughed. Roy knew something was going on that he didn't understand.
A moment later the car came to a gradual stop, amid a hissing of air.
"Say, stranger, does it often break loose and go on a stampede that
way?" asked Roy of the attendant who opened the door at the ground
floor.
"What's the matter? Did it scare you?"
"Well, it was a pretty good imitation of it," replied Roy, while the
other passengers broke into laughter. "I sure thought I was going to
China. What was the matter?"
"Nothing. This is an express elevator, and it drops from the twentieth
story to the ground in about fifteen seconds. It lands into an air
chamber, as soft as a piece of rubber. There's no danger. I do it a
hundred times a day."
"You'll have to excuse me the next time," said Roy, with a smile as he
got out. "I don't exactly cotton to elevators anyhow, but when they
drop you like a steer falling over a cliff, why it'll be walk the
stairs for mine, after this. It sure will."
"Guess you're from out West, ain't you?"
"That's what I am, and it's a mighty good place. Say, that trip sure
made me dizzy."
Indeed there is a curious feeling about being dropped twenty stories in
a swift elevator, and Roy might well be excused for his sensation.
However, he soon recovered himself, and, as it was noon time, and he
had a good appetite, he looked about for a place to get something to
eat.
He noticed a small restaurant nearby, and went in.
Instead of seeing tables set out in the place, he beheld rows of
chairs, with one arm made very large, so that it served as a shelf on
which to place plates, cups and saucers. In fact it was a chair and
table combined.
He saw men eating, and others hurrying to and fro, so he took a vacant
place, and sat there, expecting a waiter to come to him and take his
order. He remained there for some time, noting that the men seated in
a row on either side of him, were busy with their food, but no
attendant came to him.
"This is queer," thought the boy. "The waiters must be terribly busy.
They don't keep you waiting like this at my hotel."
Finally a man, seeing that Roy was a stranger, spoke to him, saying:
"You have to wait on yourself here."
"Wait on yourself?"
"Yes. You go up to that counter over there," pointing to it, "and take
whatever you want. You'll find plates, knives, forks and so on. Then,
if you want coffee, you take a cup, go to that counter, where the man
stands, and he'll draw a cup for you."
"Thanks," replied Roy, proceeding to put these directions into use.
Then for the first time he noticed that the other patrons of the
restaurant were doing the same thing.
Roy helped himself to some sandwiches, crullers, a piece of cheese and
some pie.
"I wonder who I pay?" he thought, as he saw no one behind the food
counter to take any money. "Guess it must be the man at the coffee
urn."
He carried his food to a chair, placing it on the broad arm. Then he
went back for a cup of coffee.
"I got some grub back there," he said to the man. "What's the damage?"
"Pay the girl at the desk when you go out," replied the man shortly
without looking around. "Tell her what you had, and she'll tell you
how much it is."
"Well, isn't that the limit," exclaimed Roy, half to himself, as he got
his coffee. "This is certainly a new-fangled way of getting your grub."
Still he rather liked the novelty of it. Certainly it was quick, once
one learned how to go about it. Roy made a good though not very fancy
meal, and then walked up to the desk, where he observed other men
paying.
"Well," asked the young lady, who seemed to have a very large amount of
light hair, piled up on top of her head in all sorts of waves and
frizzes.
"What'd you have?"
She spoke briskly, making change for one man, and handing another one a
box of cigars, that he might take one, and, all the while she never
stopped chewing gum.
Roy named over the articles.
"Twenty cents!" exclaimed the girl. "Here, that's a lead nickel!" she
added quickly, to the customer just ahead of Roy. "Don't try any of
them tricks on me."
Roy laid down two dimes, wondering at the cheapness of the meal, and
feeling quite confused by the rush and excitement about him.
He walked out, wondering what his next move should be. He had not gone
a dozen steps up the street, before he suddenly remembered that he had
forgotten to mention to the young lady at the desk that he had a piece
of pie.
"I've got to go right back and pay her for that pie!" thought the lad.
"She'll think I'm trying to cheat her. Lucky I thought of it when I
did, or they might have sent a policeman after me."
He hurried back, and made his way to the desk through a crowd of men
coming out.
"Say," he began to the cashier, "I'm awfully sorry, but I made a
mistake."
"No mistakes corrected after you leave the desk. See that sign?" and
the girl pointed to one to that effect. "You should count your change
while you're here. You can't work that game on me."
"I'm not trying to work any game," and Roy felt a little hurt that his
good motive should thus be mistaken. "I had a piece of pie and I
forgot to tell you of it. I came back to pay the five cents."
"Oh!"
The girl's manner changed, and she looked a little embarrassed.
"That's all right. You could have paid me to-morrow.
"But I might not be here to-morrow."
Roy laid down a five-cent piece.
"Say, but you're honest!" exclaimed the cashier, as she put back a
straggling lock of her yellow hair. "You can't live in New York."
"Now I wonder why she said that?" reasoned Roy, as he walked along the
street. "Can it be that every one in New York is dishonest? Well, I
certainly think Mr. Annister is. I must write to father, and tell him
what took place. Then I wander what I had better do next."
Roy was quite perplexed. He would have been more worried had he known
what was passing through the mind of Caleb Annister at that moment.