Just out.Just out.
Just out.Just out.
"It's all right, Mrs. Murdoch," said Jack, at supper. "Bones says he has sold more than two hundred extra copies."
"I'm glad of that," she said, "and I'll tell Mr. Murdoch; but he mustn't read it."
When she did so, he smiled faintly and with an effort feebly responded:
"Thank Mary for me. I suppose they wanted to read about the flood."
Mr. Bones had not seen fit to report to Mary that a baker's dozen of old subscribers had ordered their paper stopped; nor that one angry man with a big club in his hand had inquired for the editor; nor that Deacon Abrams, and the Town Constable, and three other men, and a lawyer had called to see the editor about the robbery at Mrs. McNamara's; nor that the same worthy woman, with her arms akimbo and her bonnet falling back, had fiercely demanded of him:
"Fwhat for did yez print all that about me howlin'? Wudn't ony woman spake, was she bein' robbed and murdhered?"
Bones had pacified Mrs. McNamara only by sitting still and hearing her out, and he would not for anything have mentioned it to Miss Ogden. She therefore had only good news to tell at the house, and Mrs. Murdoch's replies related chiefly to the Union Church Sociable at Judge Edwards's.
"Mr. Murdoch is quiet," she said, "and he may sleep all the time we're gone."
"I'll be on hand to look out for him," said Jack, "I'm not going anywhere."
That reassured them as to leaving home, and Mrs. Murdoch and Mary departed without anxiety; but they had hardly entered the Edwards's house before they found that many other people were very much less placid.
The first person to come forward, after Mrs. Edwards had welcomed them, was Miss Glidden.
"Oh, Mary Ogden!" she exclaimed, very sweetly and benevolently. "My dear! Why did you say so much about me in theEagle?"
"That was Mr. Murdoch's work," said Mary. "I had nothing to do with it."
"And that robbery and escape was really shocking."
"Exactly!" They heard a sharp, decided voice near them, and it came from a thin little man in a white cravat. "You are right, Elder Holloway! When a leading journal like theEaglefinds it needful to denounce so sternly the state of the public streets in Mertonville, it is time for the people to act. We ministers must hold a council right away."
Mary remembered a political editorial she had taken from a New York paper, and had cut down to fit theEagle; but its effect was something unexpected.
A deeper voice on her left spoke next.
"There was serious talk among the hotel-men and innkeepers of mobbing theEagleoffice to-day!"
"That," thought Mary, "must be the high-license editorial from that Philadelphia weekly."
"We mustact, Judge Edwards!" exclaimed another voice. "Nobody knows Murdoch's politics, but his denunciation of the prevailing corruption is terrible. There's a storm rising. The Republican Committee has called a special meeting to consider the matter, and we Democrats must do the same. TheEagleis right about it, too; but it was a daring step for him to take."
"That's the editorial from the Chicago daily," thought Mary; "the last part was from that Boston paper! Oh, dear me! What have I done?"
She had to ask herself that question a dozen times that evening, and she wished Jack had been there to hear what was said.
The sociable went gayly on, nevertheless, and all the while Jack sat in Mrs. Murdoch's dining-room, his face fairly glowing red with the interest he took in something spread out upon the table before him. It was a large map of New York city that he had found in theEagleoffice and brought to the house.
Mary Ogden would have withdrawn into some quiet corner, at the sociable, if it had not been for Elder Holloway and Miss Glidden, who seemed determined to prevent her from being overlooked. All those who had called upon Mrs. Murdoch knew that Mary had had something to do with that extraordinary number of theEagle, and they told others, but Mrs. Murdoch escaped all discussion about theEagleby saying she had not read it, and referring every one to Miss Ogden.
Mary was glad when the evening was over. After hearing the comments of the public, there was something about their way of editing the paper that seemed almost dishonest.
Jack was still up when she came home.
"I've used my time better than if I'd gone to the party," he said. "I've studied the map of New York. I'd know just how to go around, if I was there. I am going to study it all the time I'm here."
Mr. Murdoch was better. He had had a comfortable night, and felt able to think of business again.
"Now, my dear," he said to his wife, "I'm ready to take a look at theEagle. I am glad it was a good number."
"They talked about it all last evening at the sociable," she answered, as she handed him a copy.
He was even cheerful, when he began; and he studied the paper as Jack had studied the map. It was a long time before he said a word.
"My account of the flood is really capital," he said, at last, "and all that about Crofield matters. The report of things in Mertonville is good; that about the logs, the dam, the burglary—a very extraordinary occurrence, by the way—it's a blessing they didn't kill Mrs. McNamara. The story is good; funny-column good. But—oh, gracious! Oh, Mary Ogden! Oh my stars! What's this?"
He had begun on the editorials, and he groaned and rolled about while he was reading them.
"They'll mob theEagle!" he said at last. "I must get up! Oh, but this is dreadful! She's pitched into everything there is! I must get up at once!"
Those editorials were a strong tonic, or else Mr. Murdoch's illness was over. He dressed himself, and walked out into the kitchen. His wife had not heard him say he would get up, but she seemed almost to have expected it.
"It's the way you always do," she said. "I'm never much scared about you. You'll never die till your time comes. I think Mary is over at the office."
"I'm going there, now," he said, excitedly. "If this work goes on, I shall have the whole town about my ears."
He was right. Mary had been at her table promptly that morning to make a beginning on the next number; Jack was down in the engine-room; Mr. Black was busy, and Mr. Bones was out, when a party of very red-faced men filed in, went through the front office, and climbed the stairs.
"We'll show him!" said one.
"It'll be a lesson he won't forget!" remarked another, fiercely.
"He'll take it back, or there will be broken bones!" added another; and these spoke for the rest. They had sticks, and they tramped heavily as they marched to the "sanctum." The foremost opened the door, without knocking, and his voice was deep, threatening, and husky as he began:
"Now, Mr. Editor—"
"I'm the editor, sir. What do you wish of me?"
"I'm the Editor, sir.""I'm the Editor, sir."
"I'm the Editor, sir.""I'm the Editor, sir."
Mary Ogden stood before him, looking him straight in the face without a quiver.
He was a big man; but, oddly enough, it occurred to him that Mary seemed larger than he was.
"Bob!" exclaimed a harsh whisper behind him, "howld yer tongue! it's only a gir-rl! Don't ye say a har-rd word to the loikes o' her!"
Other whispers and growls came from the hall, but the big man stood like a stone post for several seconds.
"You're the editor?" he gasped. "Is old Murdoch dead,—or has he run away?"
"He's at home, and ill," said Mary. "What is your errand?"
"I keep a decent hotel, sir,—ma'am—madam—I do,—we all do,—it's theEagle, you know,—and there's no kind of disorder,—and there was never any complaint in Mertonville—"
"Howld on, Bob!" exclaimed the prompter behind him. "You're no good at all; coom along, b'ys. Be civil,—Mike Flaherty will never have it said he brought a shillalah to argy wid a colleen. I'm aff!"
Away he went, stick and all, and the other five followed promptly, leaving Mary Ogden standing still in amazement. She was trying to collect her thoughts when Mr. Black marched in from the other room, followed by the two typesetters; and Mr. Bones tumbled up-stairs, out of breath.
Mary had hardly any explanation to make about what Mr. Bones frantically described as "the riot," and she was inclined to laugh at it. Just then Mr. Murdoch himself came to the door.
Jack stopped the engine, exclaiming, "Mr. Murdoch! you here?"
"What is it? What is it?" he exclaimed. "I saw them go out. Did they break anything?"
"Miss Ogden scared 'em off in no time," said Mr. Black.
Mary resigned the editorial chair to Mr. Murdoch. Bones brought in two office chairs; Mr. Black appeared with a very high stool that usually stood before one of his typecases; Mary preferred one of the office chairs, and there she sat a long time, replying to Mr. Murdoch's questions and remarks. She had plenty to tell, after all she had heard at the sociable, and Mr. Murdoch groaned at times, but still he thanked her for her efforts. Meanwhile Mr. Black went to the engine-room with an errand for Jack that sent him over to the other side of the village. Jack looked in the little cracked mirror in the front room as he went out.
"Ink enough; they'll never know me," said Jack. "I'm safe enough. Besides, Mrs. McNamara wasn't robbed at all. She was yelling because she thought robbers were coming."
He loitered along on his way back, with his eyes open and his ears ready to catch any bit of stray news, and paused a moment to peer into a small shoe-shop.
It was only a momentary glance, but a hammer ceased tapping upon a lapstone, and a tall man straightened up suddenly and very straight, as he untied his leather apron.
"That's the fellow!" he exclaimed under his breath, but Jack heard him.
"He knew me! He knew me! I can't stay in Mertonville!" thought Jack. "There'll be trouble now."
He started at a run, but it was so early that he attracted little attention.
His return to theEagleoffice was so quick that Mr. Black opened his eyes in surprise.
"I've got to see Mr. Murdoch," Jack said hurriedly, and up-stairs he darted, to break right in upon the conference between the editors.
Jack told his story, and Mr. Murdoch felt it was only another blow added to the many already fallen upon him and hisEagle. "Perhaps you will be better satisfied to leave town," said Mr. Murdoch, uneasily.
"I've enough money to take me to the city, and I'll go. I'm off for New York!" said Jack, eagerly.
"New York?" exclaimed Mr. Murdoch. "That's the thing! Go to the house and get ready. I'll buy you a ticket to Albany, and you can go down on the night boat. They're taking passengers for half a dollar. You mustn't be caught! No doubt they are hunting for you now."
Mr. Murdoch was right. At that very moment the cobbler was in the grocery kept by Deacon Abrams, shouting, "We've got him again, Deacon! He's in town. He works in a paint shop—had paint on his face. Or else he's a blacksmith, or he works in coal, or something black—or dusty. We can run him down now."
While they went for the two others who knew Jack's face, he was putting on his Sunday clothes and packing up. When he came down, there was no ink upon his face, his collar was clean, his hair was brushed, and he was a complete surprise to Mr. Black and the rest.
"I can get a new boy," said Mr. Murdoch, as if he were beginning to recover his spirits; "and I can run the engine myself now I'm well. I can say in the nextEaglethat you are gone to the city, and that will help me out of my troubles."
Neither Jack nor Mary quite understood what he meant, and, in fact, they were not thinking about him just then. Mr. Murdoch had said that there was only time to catch the express-train, and they were saying good-by. Mary was crying for the moment, and Jack was telling her what to write to his mother and father and those at home in Crofield.
"It's so sudden, Jack!" said Mary. "But I'm glad you're going. I wish I could go, too."
"I wish you could," said Jack, heartily; "but I'll write. I'll tell you everything. Good-by, Mr. Murdoch's waiting. Good-by!"
TheEagleeditor was indeed waiting, and he was very uneasy. "What a calamity it would be," he thought, "to have my own 'devil' arrested for burglary. TheInquirerwould enjoy that! It isn't Jack's fault, but I can't bear everything!"
Meanwhile Mary sat at the table and pretended to look among the papers for a new story, but really she was trying to keep from crying over Jack's departure. Mr. Murdoch and Jack had gone to the station.
There was cunning in the plans of the pursuers of Mrs. McNamara's burglar this time. Three of them, each aided by several eager volunteers, dashed around Mertonville, searching every shop in which any sort of face-blacking might be used, and Deacon Abrams himself went to the station with a justice of the peace, a notary-public, a constable, and the man that kept the village pound.
"He won't get byme," said the deacon wisely, as Mr. Murdoch and a neatly dressed young gentleman passed him, arm in arm.
"Good morning, Mr. Murdoch. TheEagle'simproving. You did me justice. We're after that same villain now. We'll get him this time, too."
"Deacon," said the editor, gripping Jack's arm hard, "I'll mention your courage and public spirit again. Tie him tighter next time."
"We will," said the deacon; "and I've got some new subscribers for you, and a column advertisement."
Mr. Murdoch hurried to the ticket-window, and Jack patiently looked away from Deacon Abrams all the while.
"There," said Mr. Murdoch, "jump right in. Keep your satchel with you. I'm going back to the office."
"There," said Mr. Murdoch, "jump right in.""There," said Mr. Murdoch, "jump right in."
"There," said Mr. Murdoch, "jump right in.""There," said Mr. Murdoch, "jump right in."
"Good-by," said Jack, pocketing his ticket and entering the car.
He took a seat by the open window, just as the train started.
"Jack's gone, Mary," exclaimed Mr. Murdoch, under his breath, as he re-entered theEagleoffice. "Have those men been here again?"
"No," said Mary. "But the chairmen of the two central committees have both been here. Elder Holloway said they would. They will call again."
"What did you say?" the editor asked.
"Why," replied Mary, "I told them you were just getting well."
"So I am," said Mr. Murdoch. "There's a great demand for that number of theEagle. Forty-six old subscribers have stopped their papers, but a hundred and twenty-seven new ones have come in. I can't guess where this will end. Are you going to the house?"
"I think I'd better," said Mary. "If there's anything more I can do—"
"No, no, no! Don't spoil your visit," said he, hastily. "You've had work enough. Now you must be free to rest a little, and meet your friends."
He would not say he was afraid to have her in theEagleoffice, to stir up storms for him. But Mary made no objection—she was very willing to give up the work.
Mr. Murdoch came home in a more hopeful state of mind, but soon went to his room and lay down.
"My dear," he said to his wife, "the paper's going right along; but I'm too much exhausted to see anybody. Tell 'em all I'm not well."
Mary was uneasy about Jack, but she need not have worried. The moment the train was in motion, he forgot even Deacon Abrams and Mrs. McNamara in the grand thought that he was actually on his way to the city.
"This train's an express train," he said to himself. "Doesn't she go! I said I'd get there some day, and now I'm really going! Hurrah for New York! It's good I learned something about the streets—I'll know what to do when I get there."
He had nine dollars in his pocket for capital, but he knew more or less of several businesses and trades.
In the seat in front of him were two gentlemen, who must have been railway men, he thought, from what they said, and it occurred to Jack that he would like to learn how to build a railway.
The train stopped at last, after a long journey, and a well-dressed man got in, came straight to Jack's seat, took the hitherto empty half of it, and began to talk with the men in front as if he had come on board for the purpose. At first Jack paid little attention, but soon they began to mention places he knew.
"So far, so good," remarked the man at his side; "but we're going to have trouble in getting the right of way through Crofield. We'll have to pay a big price for that hotel if we can't use the street."
"I think not," said Jack, with a smile. "There isn't much hotel left in Crofield, now. It was burned down last Sunday."
"What?" exclaimed one of the gentlemen in front. "Are you from Crofield?"
"I live there," said Jack. "Your engineer was there about the time of the fire. The old bridge is down. I heard him say that your line would cross just below it."
The three gentlemen were all attention, and the one who had not before spoken said:
"I know. Through the old Hammond property."
"It used to belong to Mr. Hammond," replied Jack, "but it belongs to my father now."
"Can you give me a list of the other owners of property?" asked the railway man with some interest.
"I can tell you who owns every acre around Crofield, boundary lines and all," answered Jack. "I was born there. You don't know about the people, though. They'll do almost anything to have the road there. My father will help all he can. He says the place is dead now."
"What's his name?" asked the first speaker, with a notebook and a pencil in his hand.
"His is John Ogden. Mine's Jack Ogden. My father knows every man in the county," replied Jack.
"Ogden," said the gentleman in the forward seat, next the window. "My name's Magruder; we three are directors in the new road. I'm a director in this road. Are you to stay in Albany?"
"I go by the night boat to New York," said Jack, almost proudly.
"Can you stay over a day? We'll entertain you at the Delavan House if you'll give us some information."
"Certainly; I'll be glad to," said Jack; and so when the train stopped at Albany, Jack was talking familiarly enough with the three railway directors.
Mary Ogden had a very clear idea that Mr. Murdoch preferred to make up the next paper without any help from her, and even Mrs. Murdoch was almost glad to know that her young friend was to spend the next week with Mrs. Edwards.
One peculiar occurrence of that day had not been reported at theEagleoffice, and it had consequences. The Committee of Six, who had visited the sanctum so threateningly, went away beaten, but recounted their experience. They did so in the office of the Mertonville Hotel, and Mike Flaherty had more than a little to say about "that gurril," and about "the black eyes of her," and the plucky way in which she had faced them.
One little old gentleman whose eyes were still bright, in spite of his gray hair, stood in the door and listened, with his hand behind his ear.
"Gentlemen," exclaimed this little old man, turning to the men behind him. "Did you hear 'em? I guess I know what we ought to do. Come on into Crozier's with me—all of you. We must give her a testimonial for her pluck."
"Crozier's?" asked a portly, well-dressed man. "Nothing there but dry-goods."
"Come, Jeroliman. You're a banker and you're needed. I dare you to come!" said the little old man, jokingly, leading the way.
Seven of them reached the dress-goods counter of the largest store in Mertonville, and here the little old gentleman bought black silk for a dress.
"You brought your friends, I see, General Smith," said the merchant, laughing. "One of your jokes, eh?"
"No joke at all, Crozier; a testimonial of esteem,"—and three gentlemen helped one another to tell the story.
"I'll make a good reduction, for my share," exclaimed the merchant, as he added up the figures of the bill. "Will that do, General?"
"I'll join in," promptly interposed Mr. Jeroliman, the banker, laughing. "I won't take a dare from General Smith. Come, boys."
They were old enough boys, but they all "chipped in," and General Smith's dare did not cost him much, after all.
Mary Ogden had the map of New York out upon the table that evening, and was examining it, when there came a ring at the door-bell.
"It's a boy from Crozier's with a package," said Mrs. Murdoch; "and Mary, it's for you!"
"For me?" said Mary, in blank astonishment.
It was indeed addressed to her, and contained a short note:
"The girl who was not afraid of six angry men is requested to accept this silk dress, with the compliments of her admiring friends,
"SEVEN OLD MEN OF MERTONVILLE."
"Oh, but, Mrs. Murdoch," said Mary, in confusion, "I don't know what to say or do. It's very kind of them!—but ought I to take it?"
This testimonial pleased Mr. Murdoch even more than it pleased Mary. He insisted Mary should keep it, and she at last consented.
But not even the new dress made Mary forget to wonder how Jack was faring.
The lightning express made short work of the trip to Albany, and Jack was glad of it, for he had not had any dinner. His new acquaintances invited him to accompany them to the Delavan House.
As they left the station, Mr. Magruder took from his pocket a small pamphlet.
"Humph!" he said. "Guide-book to the New York City and Hudson River. I had forgotten that I had it. Don't you want it, Ogden? It'll be something to read on the boat."
"Won't you keep it?" asked Jack, hesitating.
"Oh, no," said Mr. Magruder. "I was going to throw it away."
So Jack put the book into his pocket. It was a short walk to the Delavan House, but it was through more bustle and business, considering how quiet everybody was, Jack thought, than he ever saw before. He went with the rest to the hotel office, and heard Mr. Magruder give directions about Jack's room and bill.
"He's going to pay for me for one day," Jack said to himself, "and until the evening boat goes to-morrow."
"Ogden," said Mr. Magruder, "I can't ask you to dine with us. It's a private party—have your dinner, and then wait for me here."
"All right," said Jack, and then he stood still and tried to think what to do.
"I must go to my room, now, and leave my satchel there," he said to himself. "I don't want anybody to know I never was in a big hotel before."
He managed to get to his room without making a single blunder, but the moment he closed the door he felt awed and put down.
"It's the finest room I was ever in in all my life!" he exclaimed. "They must have made a mistake. Perhaps I'll have a bedroom like this in my own house some day."
Jack made himself look as neat as if he had come out of a bandbox, before he went down-stairs.
The dining-room was easily found, and he was shown to a seat at one of the tables, and a bill of fare was handed him; but that was only one more puzzle.
"I don't know what some of these are," he said to himself. "I'll try things I couldn't get in Crofield. I'll begin on those clams with little necks."
So the waiter set before him a plate of six raw clams.
That was a good beginning; for every one of them seemed to speak to him of the salt ocean.
After that he went farther down the bill of fare and selected such dishes as, he said, "nobody ever saw in Crofield."
It was a grand dinner, and Jack was almost afraid he had been too long over it.
He went out to the office and looked around, and asked the clerk if Mr. Magruder had been inquiring for him.
"Not yet, Mr. Ogden," said the clerk. "He is not yet through dinner. Did you find your room all right?"
"All right," said Jack. "I'll sit down and wait for Mr. Magruder."
It was an hour before the railway gentlemen returned. There were twice as many of them now, however, and Mr. Magruder remarked:
"Come, Ogden, we won't detain you long. After that you can do what you like. Thank you very much, too."
Jack followed them into a private sitting-room, which seemed to him so richly furnished that he really wished it had been plainer; but he found the men very straightforward about their business.
They all sat down around the table in the middle of the room.
"We'll finish Ogden first, and let him go," said Mr. Magruder, laughing. "Ogden, here's a map of Crofield and all the country from there to Mertonville. I want to ask some questions."
He knew what to ask, too; but Jack's first remark was not an answer.
"Your map's all wrong," said he. "There isn't sand and gravel in that hill across the Cocahutchie, beyond the bridge."
"Your map's all wrong," said Jack."Your map's all wrong," said Jack.
"Your map's all wrong," said Jack."Your map's all wrong," said Jack.
"What is there, then?" asked a gentleman, who seemed to be one of the civil engineers, pettishly. "I say it's earth and gravel, mainly."
"Clear granite," said Jack. "Go down stream a little and you'll see."
"All right," exclaimed Mr. Magruder; "it will be costly cutting it, but we shall want the stone. Go ahead now. You're just the man we needed."
Jack thought so before they got through, for he had to tell all there was to tell about the country, away down to Link's bridge.
"Look here," said one of them, quizzically. "Ogden, have you lived all your life in every house in Crofield and in Mertonville and everywhere? You know even the melon-patches and hen-roosts!"
"Well, I know some of 'em," said Jack, coloring and trying to join in the general laugh. "I wouldn't talk so much, but Mr. Magruder asked me to stay over and tell what you didn't know."
Then the laughter broke out again, and it was not at Jack's expense.
They had learned all they expected from him, however, and Mr. Magruder thanked him very heartily.
"I hope you'll have a good time to-morrow," he said. "Look at the city. I'll see that you have a ticket ready for the boat."
"I didn't expect—" began Jack.
"Nonsense, Ogden," said Mr. Magruder. "We owe you a great deal, my boy. I wouldn't have missed knowing about that granite ledge. It's worth something to us. The ticket will be handed you by the clerk. Good-evening, Jack Ogden. I hope I'll see you again, some day."
"I hope so," said Jack. "Good-evening, sir. Good-evening, gentlemen."
Out he walked, and as the door closed behind him the engineer remarked:
"He ought to be a railway contractor. Brightest young fellow I've seen in a long time."
Jack felt strange. The old, grown-up feeling seemed to have been questioned out of him, by those keen, peremptory, clear-headed business men, and he appeared to himself to be a very small, green, poor, uneducated boy, who hardly knew where he was going next, or what he was going to do when he got there. "I don't know about that either," he said to himself, when he reached the office. "I know I'm going to bed, next, and I believe that I'll go to sleep when I get there!"
Weary, very weary, and almost blue, in spite of everything, was Jack Ogden that night, when he crept into bed.
"'Tisn't like that old cot in theEagleoffice," he thought. "I'm glad it isn't to be paid for out of my nine dollars."
Jack was tired all over, and in a few minutes he was sound asleep.
He had gone to bed quite early, and he awoke with the first sunshine that came pouring into his room.
"It isn't time to get up," he said. "It'll be ever so long before breakfast, but I can't stay here in bed."
As he put on his coat something swung against his side, and he said:
"There! I'd forgotten that pamphlet. I'll see what's in it."
The excitement of getting to the Delavan House, and the dinner and the talk afterward, had driven the pamphlet out of his mind until then, but he opened it eagerly.
"Good!" he said, as he turned the leaves. "Maps and pictures, all the way down. Everything about the Hudson. Pictures of all the places worth seeing in New York. Tells all about them. Where to go when you get there. Just what I wanted!"
Down he sat, and he came near forgetting his breakfast, so intensely was he absorbed by that guide-book. He shut it up, at last, however, remarking: "I'll have breakfast, and then I'll go out and see Albany. It's all I've got to do till the boat leaves this evening. First city I ever saw." He ate with all the more satisfaction because he knew that he was not eating up any part of his nine dollars, and it did not seem like so much money as it would have seemed in Crofield. He was in no haste, for he had no idea where to go, and did not mean to tell anybody how ignorant he was. He walked out of the Delavan House, and strolled away to the right. Even the poorer buildings were far better than anything in Crofield or Mertonville, and he soon had a bit of a surprise. He reached a corner where a very broad street opened, at the right, and went up a steep hill. It was not a very long street, and it ended at the crest of the hill, where there were some trees, and above them towered what seemed to be a magnificent palace of a building.
"I'll go and see that," said Jack. "I'll know what it is when I see the sign,—or I'll ask somebody."
His interest in that piece of architecture grew as he walked on up the hill; and he was a little warm and out of breath when he reached the street corner, at the top. Upon the corner, with his hands folded behind him and his hat pushed back on his head, stood a well-dressed man, somewhat above middle height, heavily built and portly, who seemed to be gazing at the same object.
"Mister," said Jack, "will you please tell me what that building is?"
"Certainly," replied the gentleman, turning to him with a bow and a smile. "That's the New York State Miracle; one of the wonders of the world."
"The State Miracle?" said Jack.
"What's your name?" asked the gentleman, with another bow and smile.
"Ogden—Jack Ogden."
"Yes, Jack Ogden; thank you. My name's 'Guvner.' That's a miracle. It can never be finished. There's magic in it. Do you know what that is?"
"That's one of the things I don't know, Mr. Guvner," said Jack.
"I don't know what it is either," smiled Mr. Guvner. "When they built it they put in twenty tons of pure, solid gold, my lad. Didn't you ever hear of it? Where do you live when you're at home?"
"My home's in Crofield," said Jack, not aware of a group of gentlemen and ladies who were standing still, a few yards away, looking at them. "I'm on my way to New York, but I wanted to see Albany."
Mr. Guvner put a large hand on his shoulder, and smiled in his face.
"Jack, my son," he said, "go up and look all over the State Miracle. Many other States have other similar miracles. Don't stay in it too long, though."
"Is it unhealthy?" asked Jack, with a smile.
The portly gentleman was smiling also.
"No, no; not unhealthy, my boy; but they persuade some men to stay there a long time, and they're never the same men again. Come out as soon as you've had a good view of it."
"I'll take a look at it any way," said Jack, turning away. "Thank you, Mr. Guvner. I'll see the Miracle."
He had gone but a few paces, and the others were stepping forward, when he was called by Mr. Guvner.
"Jack, come back a moment!"
"What is it, Mr. Guvner?" asked Jack.
"I'm almost sorry you're going to the city. It's as bad as the Capitol itself. You'll never be the same man again. Don't get to be the wrong kind of man."
"I'll remember, Mr. Guvner," said Jack, and he walked away again; but as he did so he heard a lady laughing, and a solemn-faced gentlemen saying:
"Good morning, Gov-er-nor. A very fine morning?"
"I declare!" exclaimed Jack, with almost a shiver. "I've been talking with the Governor of the State himself, and I'm going to see the Capitol. I couldn't have done that in Crofield. And I'll be in New York City to-morrow!"
Mary Ogden had three dresses, one quite pretty, but none were of silk. Aunt Melinda was always telling Mary what she ought not to wear at her age, and with hair and eyes as dark as hers. Mary felt very proud, therefore, when she saw on the table in her room the parcel containing the black silk and trimmings.
"It must have been expensive," she said, and she unfolded it as if afraid it would break.
"What will mother say?" she thought. "And Aunt Melinda! I'm too young for it—I know I am!"
The whole Murdoch family arose early, and the editor, after looking at the black silk, said that he felt pretty well.
"So you ought," said his wife. "You had more new subscribers yesterday than you ever had before in your life in any one day."
"That makes me think," said Mr. Murdoch. "I owe Mary Ogden five dollars—there it is—for getting out that number of theEagle."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Mary. "I did that, and Jack did it, only because—"
He put the bank-note into her hand.
"I'd rather you'd take it," he said. "You'll never be a good editor till you learn to work on a business basis."
As he insisted, she put the bill into her pocket-book, thanking him gratefully.
"I had two dollars when I came," she thought, "and I haven't spent a cent; but I may need something. Besides, I'll have to pay for making up my new dress."
But she was wrong. Mrs. Murdoch went out to see a neighbor after breakfast, and before noon it was certain that if seven old men of Mertonville had paid for the silk, at least seven elderly women could be found who were very willing to make it up.
About that time Jack was walking up to the door of the Senate Chamber, in the Capitol, at Albany, after having astonished himself by long walks and gazings through the halls and side passages.
"It's true enough," he said to himself. "The Governor's right. No fellow could go through this and come out just as he came in."
He understood about the "twenty tons of pure gold" in the building, but nevertheless he could not keep from looking all around after signs of it.
"There's plenty of gilding," he said, "but it's very thin. It's all finished, too. I don't see what more they could do, now the roof's on and it's all painted. He must have been joking when he said that."
Jack roamed all over the Capitol, for the Legislature was not in session, and the building was open to sight-seers. There were many of them, and from visitors, workmen, and some boys whom he met, Jack managed to find out many interesting things.
The Assembly Chamber seemed to him a truly wonderful room, and upon the floor were several groups of people admiring it.
He saw one visitor seat himself in the Speaker's chair. "There's room in that chair for two or three small men," said Jack; "I'll try it by and by."
So he did.
"The Speaker was a boy once, too, and so was the Governor," he said to himself aloud.
"Yes, my boy," said a lady, who was near enough to hear him; "so they were. So were all the presidents, and some went barefoot and lived in log-cabins."
"Well, I've often gone barefoot," said Jack, laughing.
"Many boys go barefoot, but they can't all become governors," she said, pleasantly.
She looked at Jack for a moment, and then said with a smile, "You look like a bright young man, though. Do you suppose you could ever be Governor?"
"Perhaps I could," he said. "It can't be harder to learn than any other business."
The lady laughed, and her friends laughed, and Jack arose from the Speaker's chair and walked away.
He had seen enough of that vast State House. It wearied him, there was so much of it, and it was so fine.
"To build this house cost twenty tons of gold!" he said, as he went out through the lofty doorway. "I wish I had some of it. I've kept my nine dollars yet, anyway. The Governor's right. I don't know what he meant, but I'll never be just the same fellow again."
It was so. But it was not merely seeing the Capitol that had changed him. He was changing from a boy who had never seen anything outside of Crofield and Mertonville, into a boy who was walking right out into the world to learn what is in it.
"I'll go to the hotel and write to father and mother," he said; "and I have something to tell them."
It was the first real letter he had ever written, and it seemed a great thing to do—ten times more important than writing a composition, and almost equal to editing theEagle.
"I'll just put in everything," he thought, "just as it came along, and they'll know what I've been doing."
It took a long time to write the letter, but it was done at last, and when he put down his pen he exclaimed:
"Hard work always makes me hungry! I wonder if it isn't dinner-time? They said it was always dinner-time here after twelve o'clock. I'll go see." It was long after twelve when he went down to the office to stamp and mail his letter.
"Mr. Ogden," said the clerk, giving Jack an envelope, "here's a note from Mr. Magruder. He left—"
"Ogden," said a deep, full voice just behind him, "didn't you stay there too long? I am told you sat in the Speaker's chair."
Jack wheeled about, blushing crimson. The Governor was not standing still, but was walking steadily through the office, surrounded by a group of dignified men. It was necessary to walk with them in order to reply to the question, and Jack did so.
"I sat there half a minute," he answered. "I hope it didn't hurt me."
"I'm glad you got out so soon, Jack," replied the Governor approvingly.
"But I heard also that you think of learning the Governor business," went on the great man. "Now, don't you do it. It is not large pay, and you'd be out of work most of the time. Be a blacksmith, or a carpenter, or a tailor, or a printer."
"Well, Governor," said Jack, "I was brought up a blacksmith; and I've worked at carpentering, and printing too; and I've edited a newspaper; but—"
There he was cut short by the laughter from those dignified men.
"Good-bye, Jack," said the Governor, shaking hands with him. "I hope you'll have a good time in the city. You'll be sent back to the Capitol some day, perhaps."
Jack returned to the clerk's counter to mail his letter, and found that gentleman looking at him as if he wondered what sort of a boy he might be.