AT THE LODGING-HOUSE.
“Well, Wade Brooks, what are you going to do about it?” demanded Lon,
when he had considered the situation.
“I don’t know what I shall do about it,” replied Wade; and he spoke the
truth. “You come here to have a time, as I knew you meant to do before.”
“If you ever tell anybody what you have found out, I’ll flog you within
an inch of your life!” said Lon savagely.
“I’ll risk it; and, if you want to begin now, I’m ready. It isn’t
likely I shall ever see anybody to speak to about it; but, if you’re
going to lick me, I’ll go out of my way to tell,” said Wade stoutly;
and he was confident, after their experience in the boat, he could
thrash Lon every time.
“Don’t make a row with him, Lon,” said the more prudent Matt. “Let’s
make trade with him.”
“What do you mean by a trade?” demanded Lon.
“He can tell all he knows, if he has a mind to; and then where shall we
be?” replied Matt.
Lon did not like the idea any better than Matt; and he allowed him to
tell what he meant.
“You have lost the money you got for the boat, have you, Wade?” asked
Matt.
“I lost eighteen dollars of it, and I have only a dollar and eighty
cents left; and I shall soon eat that up,” replied Wade gloomily.
“I will give you ten dollars, and Lon shall give you the same, if you
will agree not to say a word to any one about us, not even to Lon’s
father or mine, if you should happen to see either or both of them,”
said Matt, in soft tones. “That will be twenty dollars, more than you
had before.”
“Do you mean to give me the money you stole from your father?” asked
Wade.
“We haven’t any other money,” replied Matt. “We didn’t steal it: who
said any thing about stealing?”
“You can’t deny that you stole that money from your father; and I don’t
see what he was thinking about, that he didn’t put it in a place where
you couldn’t get it.”
“Don’t say any thing more about stealing, Wade. That’s not the way to
call it. But say whether you will take up with my offer.”
“I won’t take up with it: I won’t have any thing to do with any money
you stole. I’m not a thief; and I’ve heard your father say that the
receiver is as bad as the thief,” replied Wade decidedly.
“I knew it would be so,” added Lon, disgusted with the idea of
compromising with a fellow like Wade Brooks.
“I don’t want to talk about such a thing;” and the temptation was so
great, that Wade was afraid to think of it. “I guess I’ll be going now.”
Wade backed out at the open door, and neither of the runaways attempted
to detain him, though Lon repeated his threat. Matt was alarmed; but
Lon thought that the fear of a thrashing which he had promised the boy
of all work would prevent him from saying any thing to the people in
the hotel, though he would be likely to tell the whole truth when they
all went home.
Wade walked to the elevator, thinking what he should do. He did not
like Lon’s threat; and knew that his father was even then worrying
about his son. When the car came along on its way down, he got into
it, and a moment later he was at the office. He had made up his mind
to leave the hotel without saying any thing more to any one, for he
had been laughed at enough for one day. But the joking clerk was not
inclined to let him escape, at least without a little more quizzing.
“Did you find your friend, young man?” asked the joker, with a smile
and a wink at his fellow-clerk.
“Yes, sir; I found him: in fact, I found two of the name I gave you,”
replied Wade readily.
“I’m glad you did: I thought Mr. Diddler must be in that room if he was
anywhere in the house.”
“He’s there; and I think his father, whose name is not Diddler, would
like to hear from him.”
“Did you find that you knew the boys in that room?” asked the clerk,
who had had many doubts in regard to taking them into the house.
“I knew them both the moment I set eyes on them.”
“Who are they?”
“One of them is Matt Swikes, and the other is Lon Trustleton. Both of
them came from Midhampton. Lon threatened to lick me if I said any
thing about them, and I want him to try it on.”
“Trustleton! Then he must be the son of Capt. Trustleton of
Midhampton,” added the clerk.
“That’s what he is, every time,” replied Wade, who felt that he had no
right to keep still when these boys were running away with money they
had stolen: besides, he wanted to know about the licking Lon was to
give him.
“And who are you, young man?” asked the clerk.
“My name is Wade Brooks; and I used to live in Midhampton.”
“Does your father live there?”
“I have no father or mother, or any relations that I know of.”
“But whom did you run away from?”
“Nobody has any claim on me; and I am my own master,” replied Wade
decidedly. “Can I get any work about this house? I want something to
do.”
“Nothing here. Have you told me the truth about the other two boys?”
“Of course I have; and you’ll find it so, if you look into the matter.
But I’m going now,” continued Wade, moving towards the entrance.
The clerk did not offer to detain him, and Wade reached the street. It
was no use to do any thing more about the eighteen dollars: he gave
it up, and tried to be as resigned as possible to the heavy loss. It
was just his luck. He began to feel the necessity of something to
eat again, for he had not tasted food since he breakfasted with Mr.
Klucker. But he walked to the place where he had taken his morning
meal, for he thought his money would not last long if he patronized the
restaurants in the Fifth Avenue.
The keeper asked him some questions about his search for the
missionary; but it was only to make fun of him, and he gave short
answers to him. He spent ten cents upon a plate of baked beans; for
this was one of the cheap dishes, and he could not indulge in chops
and beefsteaks. He wondered where he should pass the night. He had not
been in a bed for two nights, and he was beginning to feel very tired.
He asked the keeper of the restaurant where he could find a cheap
lodging, and was directed to a place where he could get the luxury of
a bed for twenty-five cents. He went to it; and, though it was cheap,
it was better than he had had in the garret of Obed Swikes. There were
six beds in the room; and, as it was only half-past seven, he had the
choice of them.
“My money is almost gone in one day; but it is just my luck,” said
he to himself as he got into the bed. “It will cost me fifty or sixty
cents a day to live, the best way I can fix it; and it will only
last me a couple of days more. What shall I do then, if I don’t get
something to do?”
It was a hard question to answer; and, while he was thinking about it,
he went to sleep. He did not wake till daylight in the morning. He saw
that all the other beds were occupied; but he did not care to get up
at that early hour, for he had not to go out to the barn and take care
of the cattle. But he was fully rested, and he could not go to sleep
again. He lay as long as he could; and then got up and dressed himself,
being the first to leave the room.
The place where he had lodged was a cheap hotel; and he looked at the
bill of fare in the restaurant. He found the prices were about the
same as at the place where he had taken his meals the day before; and
he called for fish-balls,--the cheapest dish on the bill. He got more
of them than at the other place, and he was well satisfied with the
establishment. He even informed the proprietor, who was on duty behind
the counter, that he should patronize his house while he staid in New
York. He thought this announcement, with a compliment which he prefixed
to it, would please the man, as doubtless it did, till a circumstance
appeared which spoiled its effect.
Wade’s bill was ten cents,--he had paid for his lodging the night
before, as the rule of such places requires,--and he put his hand into
his pocket to take out his wallet. He did take it out; but, to his
intense astonishment, he found there was not a single cent in it: all
the rest of his money was gone. It had evidently been stolen from him
while he was asleep. He had hung his trousers over the head of the bed,
and in the pocket of this garment was his earthly treasure. It was only
one dollar and thirty-five cents, but it was all he had.
“My money is all gone,” said Wade mournfully.
“Gone! You mean that you haven’t got any,” said the landlord.
“But I had a dollar and thirty-five cents when I went to bed in your
house last night, and now I haven’t a single cent.”
“That has been played on me so many times, that I know all about it. I
should say a hundred such fellows have been robbed in my house within a
year. I don’t believe you had any money,” said the landlord coldly.
“How could I pay for my lodging if I had not?” asked Wade meekly.
“You had no business to order breakfast, if you hadn’t the money to pay
for it,” growled the man.
“I thought I had money, or I should not.”
“That won’t go down,” added the landlord.
“It is the truth; but I will come and pay you just as soon as I get
some money.”
“I guess not,” added the proprietor of the hotel, reaching over the
counter, and snatching Wade’s cap from his head. “When you pay the
bill, you shall have your cap again. You can go now.”
“I can’t go out without any cap,” protested Wade.
“You try it, and see if you can’t. I’ll bet a dollar you can; and, if
you don’t do it in half a minute, my right boot will help you on your
way.”
It was of no use to argue the case with such a man as that; and the
poor boy left the little hotel sadder than he had ever been before in
his life. He had no cap on his head; but no one seemed to notice the
fact. He was near the steamboat-landings; and presently he saw a ragged
boy get a job to carry a bag belonging to a traveller. He took the
suggestion, and, going nearer to the pier, he appealed to every man and
woman he met for a job to carry baggage, and at last he was so lucky as
to get one. He left the bag at a hotel near Broadway; and the traveller
gave him ten cents, with which he considered himself richly paid.
With the money in his hand,--for he dared not trust it in his
pocket,--he hastened back to the cheap hotel. The landlord gave him his
cap when he handed him his money.
“I thought you would find some money if I kept your cap,” said he. “I
have half a mind to keep it to punish you for lying to me, and saying
you had no money.”
“I made the ten cents carrying a bag for a passenger,” pleaded Wade, as
he left the place.
He went back to the steamboat-landing to see if he could not get
another job.