A VICTORY FOR RANDY
One day Randy was out in Albany buying a new pair of shoes when he met
Rose Clare, who was also doing some shopping for her mother.
"Oh, Randy, how do you do!" cried the girl, running up and shaking
hands.
"Very well, Rose," he answered. "You look well."
"Oh, I am feeling splendid."
"It did you good to get out of New York."
"Indeed it did, and mamma is ever so much better too."
"I am glad to hear that. Do you like it at Captain Hadley's home?"
"Yes, mamma and Mrs. Hadley have become great friends."
"Do you go to school?"
"Yes. And, oh, I 'most forgot to tell you. I got a letter from New York
to-day. It was from another girl, one who lived in the house with us.
She says Bill Hosker has come back to that neighborhood."
"To stay?"
"She says he is around every night."
"Then I am going to hunt him up."
"Oh, Randy, please don't get into any more trouble," pleaded Rose.
"He has got to give back my money, or take the consequences."
"You know what a ruffian he is!"
"I will be on my guard this time, Rose, and maybe I'll take a friend
along," added our hero.
When he returned to the steamboat he told Jones about what he had
heard. Jones was now feeling very well once again, and he readily
volunteered to go with Randy and hunt up Hosker as soon as the boat got
to the metropolis. Then Pat Malloy got wind of what was up and said he
would go too.
"It's no use of going to the police wid such a mather," said the head
deckhand. "We'll bring the rascal to terms ourselves."
It was a clear, cool night when the landing was made at New York. The
deckhands hurried through their labors and then made off for the
neighborhood where Randy had been attacked.
"Here is the spot where I was first robbed," said our hero, and pointed
it out.
They walked around the neighborhood for nearly an hour, and were
growing somewhat disheartened when Randy gave a cry:
"There he is!"
"You are sure?" asked Jones.
"Yes."
"Let me speak to him first. Then we'll know there ain't no mistake,"
went on Jones.
Randy was willing and he and Malloy dropped behind.
Bill Hosker had just come out of a saloon and was wiping off his mouth
with the back of his hand. He turned down a side street.
"Hullo there, Bill Hosker!" cried Jones, pleasantly.
The bully and thief swung around on his heel and looked at the deckhand
in perplexity.
"Who are you?" he asked, roughly.
"Am I right? Is this Bill Hosker?"
"Dat's my handle."
"Then you are the man I want to see," said Jones and beckoned for the
others to come up.
When the street ruffian saw Randy his face changed color and he wanted
to run away, but Jones grabbed him and so did Malloy. As both were
powerful men, Hosker was as a kitten in their grasp.
"Youse fellers let me go!"
"I want you to give up the money you took from me," said Randy.
"I don't know you, young feller!"
"Yes, you do. Will you give up the money or not?"
"I ain't got no cash."
"Then you'll come to the station house with me."
"I bet yer I won't!" cried Bill Hosker.
He started to struggle when Jones hauled off and slapped him hard on
the right ear.
"Now be good, or I'll shove a few of your teeth down your throat," said
the deckhand. "This ain't no foolin' affair. Give up the boy's money
and be quick about it. If you don't give up I'll maul you so your own
mother won't know you!"
Bill Hosker was thoroughly alarmed. He did not mind going to the
station house but he did mind a good drubbing, and he saw that those
who held him were in no mood to be trifled with.
"Say, let us straighten dis t'ing out," said he at length.
"I want my money," answered Randy.
"Will yer drop de matter if I cough up de cash?"
"Yes."
"All right den. How much was it?"
"Four dollars and eighty cents."
The street ruffian pulled a small roll of bills from his pocket.
"Dare you are," he said, as he passed over five dollars. "Youse kin
keep de change."
Randy took the bills and stowed them away in his pocket.
"I'll give the change to some poor person," he said. "I want only what
is coming to me."
"Are ye done wid de rascal?" asked Malloy.
"Yes."
"Well, I'm not," answered the head deckhand.
"And neither am I," added Jones.
And then both hauled off and let Bill Hosker have it, right and left.
The street ruffian had one eye blackened and a tooth knocked out, and
went down in a heap more than dazed.
"Let that teach you a lesson," said Jones.
"It's better nor a month in jug," was Pat Malloy's comment. "The state
won't have to feed the blackguard."
Randy had already walked on and his friends joined him, and all hurried
back to the steamboat.
It was several minutes before Bill Hosker got up. "I'd like ter kill
dem fellers!" he muttered.
He hurried for the nearest saloon, where he tried to drown his troubles
in drink. In the saloon were several who knew him, and one man jeered
him because of the black eye. This brought on another quarrel, and as a
consequence both men were pushed out of the drinking resort. They
continued to fight on the sidewalk, until a policeman came along and
tried to stop them. Then Hosker attacked the officer, and as a
consequence was placed under arrest. The next day he was brought up in
court and sentenced to a year in prison for his misdeeds.
"I don't think he'll forget us," said Jones, as the steamboat was
reached.
"Maybe he will lay for us," said Randy.
"Well, we can kape our eyes open," put in Pat Malloy.
"I shall not visit that neighborhood again," said our hero. "Now I have
my money back I am satisfied."
"New York has altogether too many such toughs," put in Jones. "The
police ought to clean them all out. When I first came here I was
attacked in my boarding place on the Bowery."
"Were you robbed?"
"The fellow tried to rob me, but he didn't succeed. I played a neat
trick on him."
"What did you do?"
"I had a roll of bills and these I placed in an inside pocket. I also
had an imitation bank-bill--one of these advertisements you often see.
Well, I took a small roll of paper and put the imitation bill around
it, and put the roll in my vest pocket. The would-be thief got the roll
and ran off with it."
"He must have been angry when he saw how he had been duped," laughed
Randy.
"I didn't see that fellow again for nearly six months. Then I met him
on the steamboat where I was working. When he saw me he sneaked out of
sight in a hurry, I can tell you."
"Did you follow him up?"
"I tried to, but I didn't see him again until we were making a landing.
Then I tried to grab him, but he slipped me in a crowd and went ashore
as fast as his legs could carry him," concluded the deckhand.