"It's a fine day for sport," remarked Ralph to his two new passengers, as the sloop skimmed along up Keniscot Lake.
"Yes," returned the elder of the two men, whose name was Martin. "It couldn't be better."
"You don't want to try fishing?" suggested the boy, for he knew that a good catch could be had with but little trouble.
"No," put in the younger man, called Toglet. "We want to get up among the islands."
"Very well, sir, I'll have you up there just as fast as the breeze will take us."
There was a slight pause after this, during which both of the men examined their shotguns and other things which they carried.
"You live around here, I suppose?" remarked Martin, at length, looking at Ralph sharply with his coal-black eyes.
"Yes, sir, I live at Westville."
"Lived there long?"
"All my life."
"Then you must know the folks there pretty well?"
"I know nearly everybody, sir."
"Any rich folks live in the town?"
"I don't know what you would call rich," laughed the young boatman. "There are no millionaires, but there are several people quite well-to-do."
"Who are they?"
"There is Mr. Carrington, and the Widow Pennover for two, and then Squire Paget is pretty well fixed, I imagine."
"Squire Paget, eh? Is he the squire of the place?"
"Yes, sir."
"Rules it pretty well, I suppose, if he's rich," and Martin laughed in a style that had little of reality in it.
"I don't know what you mean by that," returned Ralph, in perplexity. "He is squire, that is all. He owns quite a deal of property and he lives on the rent money."
"Pretty nice town," put in Toglet. "I wouldn't mind owning a place there myself. Do you own a place?" he went on, with assumed indifference, while he listened eagerly for the reply.
"Yes, we own a small place close to the Eastport bridge."
"Oh, yes. That's a valuable spot."
"We own more of the land, from the bridge up, but we can't prove our right to it," added Ralph.
"That's too bad." Toglet and Martin exchanged glances. "What seems to be the trouble?" went on the former.
"The papers my father had are missing, and we can do nothing without them."
"You do not know what has become of the papers?"
"No, sir. We are advertising for them, but so far we have not received any information concerning them."
"But can't you get duplicates from the former owners of the ground?"
"No, sir. The former owners are all dead, and the property fell into my father's hands in a roundabout way. You see, when he got it the land was worth but very little, and no great care was taken of the papers in consequence."
Toglet nodded, as though to indicate he understood. Then, while Ralph was busy starting the sloop on another tack, Toglet leaned over and whispered to his companion:
"That's the bottom of it, Sam."
"I shouldn't wonder," returned Martin, in an equally low tone.
Ralph heard the whisper, but paid no attention to it, thinking the men were discussing something not meant for his ears. He turned over on the new tack, and once more the sloop went along on her course, throwing up the fine spray over the bow.
"We'll be able to get home faster than we are now sailing," remarked Ralph. "We'll have a good wind all the way."
"Unless it dies out," returned Martin, and there was just a trace of nervousness in his tone.
"It won't die out," replied the young boatman, confidently, as he cast his eyes about the sky. "This breeze is good until some time after dark."
"When will we be able to reach the islands?" asked Toglet.
Ralph looked at watch.
"It is now quarter to ten. We'll reach the lowest of them by eleven o'clock, and the big ones quarter of an hour or so later."
On and on up the lake sped the sloop. The villages on the shores had been left far behind, and now nothing but trees and bushes appeared upon either bank.
"Rather lonely," observed Martin, as he gazed eagerly about. "Not a house in sight."
"No, sir; there is no settlement within a mile and a half of here," returned Ralph.
"Are there any settlements near the islands?"
"No, sir."
"I understand there are a number of great cliffs and ravines about the islands," observed Martin. "I would like to see them."
"I will show you all there are," said Ralph.
At the time he had named they reached several small islands and passed them. Then two of larger proportions appeared in sight.
One of the latter was quite flat, while the other was rocky and mountainous.
"There is the best island for hunting," said Ralph. "We call it Three Top Island, because there are three tops to the mountain on it. Shall we land now?"
"Yes," replied Toglet, after an exchange of glances with Martin.
Ralph at once lowered the jib and took a reef in the mainsail. Then the tiller was thrown over, and in two minutes more they ran into a tiny cove and came to anchor close beside a grassy bank, fringed with meadow brush.
"Of course you will go with us," said Martin, as he sprang out.
"If you wish," replied Ralph. "Otherwise, I can remain here until your return."
"No; come along, by all means," put in Toglet. "We want you to show us the points of interest, you know—those high cliffs and the big ravines."
"All right, sir. Just wait till I make everything secure."
Ralph at once set to work, and inside of five minutes he was ready to accompany the two men. He had found them quite agreeable on the trip and never for an instant did he dream of the foul plot that they were expecting to carry out.
Ralph offered to carry the game-bags, but this offer was declined. So, with nothing in his hands but a thin stick he had picked up on the bank, he led the way away from the sloop and up among the rocks that formed the base of the mountain of which the island was composed.
"It's the best kind of a place for the work," whispered Martin to Toglet, as they trudged on behind Ralph. "Not a soul will guess the truth after the deed is done."
"Don't let the boy suspect, or he will be on his guard," was the low reply. "He looks as if he could show fight if he wished."
"We'll take him unawares, and then——"
"There's a good shot!" cried Ralph, pointing to a number of wild water fowls, which just then arose from a hollow close by.
He fully expected one or the other of the men to take hasty aim and fire, but neither did so.
"We'll wait for something better," said Martin.
"We'll take a look around before we begin to waste our powder," put in Toglet.
In truth, neither of them had come to do any shooting. They were afraid that a shot might attract attention should other sportsmen be in the vicinity.
Ralph was rather disappointed. Had he had a gun he could easily have brought down one or more of the fowls. He considered it a most excellent chance lost—a chance that might not occur again that day.
Still it was not his place to pass any remark concerning the decision of his two passengers, so he remained silent, and plodded along over the rocks and through the brush, until, half an hour later, he came out on a grassy plateau overlooking a magnificent stretch of water.
"Here we are at the top of one end of the mountain," he said. "You can see a good many miles from here."
"That's so," said Martin. "What is below at the base of this cliff?"
"Rocks and water," returned Toglet, as he peered over. "It must be a hundred feet to the bottom."
"It is more than that," replied Ralph.
Martin and Toglet exchanged glances, and both nodded. This was as good a place as any for the accomplishment of their purpose.
"Hallo! what's that?" suddenly cried Martin, pointing across the lake.
Ralph looked in the direction, stepping close to the edge of the cliff as he did so.
"I don't see anything unusual——" he began.
He got no further. The two men pushed up against him roughly, and before he could save himself he was hurled into space. A second later he disappeared from the sight of the two men.
"He's gone!" cried Martin. "Easily done, eh, Tom?"
"It was, Sam. Let us look to make sure he went down."
They peered over the edge of the cliff. Nothing was to be seen of Ralph.
"There's his cap down on the rocks by the water," said Toglet. "He has gone clean out of sight. Come on away; the job is finished."
And without another word, these two villains in crime hurried from the spot down to the other side of the island, where the sloop had been left.
Martin and Toglet were very white when they reached the sloop, and the younger man trembled from head to foot.
"What's the matter with you?" asked Martin, with a forced laugh, as they got on board.
"No—nothing," stammered Toglet.
"You've got a bad case of the shakes."
"Well, to tell the truth, that's the worst job I ever tackled, although I've accomplished many that were tough enough."
"Humph! you'll get over that feeling when you are as old as I am," replied Martin, heartlessly. "What's the boy to us?"
"Oh, I ain't squealing. Only he looked so innocent——"
"Bah! don't give me any more of that stuff. Here, have something to brace you up."
Martin pulled a black flask from his pocket and thrust it forward. Toglet drank copiously, as if to drown out the memory of what had occurred. Martin followed with an equally liberal dose.
"It was done easier than I at first imagined it would be," said the latter. "Had he suspected the least thing we would have had a nasty struggle with him."
The anchor was hoisted and the sails set, and in a few minutes the sloop had left the island and was on her way down the lake.
"We won't go near Glen Arbor," said Martin. "Let them find out about the affair in the natural way. If we report it we may get ourselves into trouble."
"But the squire——" began Toglet.
"That's none of our affair. We'll land near Westville, and watch our chance to report."
It was about four o'clock when the two rascals beached the sloop in an out-of-the-way spot just north of the village in which Ralph lived. No one had seen their coming, and as quickly as they could they left the craft and then sent her adrift.
Both of the men had worn wigs, and these they now cast aside, altering their appearance slightly. Their guns and game-bags were hidden behind a pile of decayed logs and then they sneaked through the woods toward the hill at the extremity of Westville.
They waited about Squire Paget's house for nearly an hour and at last saw that gentleman come out and start up the country road which led away from the village center.
Presently the squire came to an old, disused cottage, which years previous had been used as a road tavern. Here he halted, and the two men at once joined him.
"It's done, squire," said Martin.
"Hush! not here," cried Paget, in a scared voice. "Come inside."
He took from his pocket a key and with it unlocked thecottage door. The two men passed inside, and the squire of Westville immediately followed.
"Take a look about before you say anything," he said. "We must not be overheard."
Martin's lip curled, but he did as requested, and Toglet did the same. Not a soul but themselves was anywhere in sight.
"We're all right, squire," said Martin. "So we'll get to business without delay."
"Exactly, exactly! And did you—is he—is he gone?" asked Squire Paget, breathing hard.
"Yes, he's gone," returned Martin, boldly. "He went over the top of the big cliff, and that is the end of him."
"You are sure it was the right boy?"
"Yes, he said his name was Ralph Nelson," put in Toglet.
"You saw him go—go down all right?" asked the squire, hesitatingly. "There was no failure——"
"Not a bit of it," said Martin. "He went over into the rocks below and into the water. He gave one scream, and that was all," he added, dramatically.
The squire shuddered. It must really be true. Ralph Nelson was dead!
"Very good," he said, in a hoarse voice. "Here is the hundred dollars each I promised you. You shall have the other five hundred when—the body is found."
"All right, but you'll have to do the finding," said Martin. "It's at the bottom of the big cliff on the west side of Three Top Island. His cap is among the rocks close by."
"And his boat——"
"We sent that adrift. If we are traced up we want to shield ourselves by saying we went off hunting and when we got back could find nothing of him and the boat, and had to get a stranger to take us ashore."
"Ah, I see. Very good."
"Now we want to be going. We'll look for you in Chambersburgh inside of a week. Don't fail us if you value your secret."
"I will be on hand."
"You ought to pay us more than five hundred," put in Toglet. "You are going to make a pile out of this."
"How do you know anything about what I am going to make?" asked the squire, in great surprise.
"The boy told us about his property and the papers that were missing."
"I know nothing of that."
"Humph! We can put two and two together. You'll make a fortune out of that land, no doubt."
"I know nothing of that land you mention."
"Maybe you don't."
"And I haven't his missing papers," went on Squire Paget, and for once he spoke the truth.
"Then what's your aim in getting him out of the way?"
"That is my affair."
"Of course it is," broke in Martin. "But you might make it a bit more than five hundred."
"I am poor, gentlemen. I had to do what has been done to keep me from ruin."
Both of the rascals laughed at his words, but theycould get nothing more out of the squire, and a few minutes later, after a little more conversation concerning poor Ralph, they separated. The two villains who had pushed the boy over the cliff went back for their guns and game-bags, and then set out for a town at the north of the lake.
Squire Paget watched them out of sight, and then hurried back to his mansion. Somehow, he did not feel safe until he had locked himself in his library.
"At last the boy is out of the way," he murmured, to himself, as he sank into an easy-chair. "It was accomplished much easier than I imagined it would be, thanks to my intimate knowledge of the character of that rascal Martin, and Toglet, his tool. Now what is to be done next? It will not do to get the widow out of the way—that would excite suspicion. I had better wait and watch her closely. Maybe she'll be unable to hold her cottage with her son no longer at hand to earn enough to keep them, and she'll be forced to sell out at a low figure, and then—by Jove!" he exclaimed, suddenly. "That's a grand idea! It's a wonder I didn't think of it before!"
The new idea made the squire walk up and down the library rapidly. He was a great schemer and could evolve a whole transaction, no matter how intricate, much more rapidly than most men.
"I'll do it!" he said, to himself. "I'll offer her a good price for the cottage and the land, and when the papers are drawn up for her signature, I'll take good care that all the other land is included in the plot mentioned. I can make the papers so confusing that she won't knowthe difference, and she'll sign them without knowing their real contents. Glorious!"
Then came a knock on the door.
"Dinner is ready, sir," said the housekeeper.
"Very well; I will be there in a few minutes," he returned.
Then he gazed out of the window thoughtfully.
"But what if those papers should turn up? I must watch out for them, and get the land in my name before that occurs—if it ever does occur. What a fool I was to trust them in the mails to have them certified to by that old woman in New York!"
Meanwhile, what of poor Ralph? Was it true that he had been dashed to his death over the high cliff?
Happily, it was not true. Yet, for a long while after he was pushed over, the boy knew nothing of what had happened.
He went down and down, clutching vainly at rocks and bushes as he passed. Then his head struck a stone and he was knocked senseless.
How long he remained in this state he did not know. When he came to all was dark around him and silent.
Putting his hand to his face he found it covered with blood. There was a large bruise on his left temple, and his head ached as it never had before.
"Where am I?" was his first thought. "What has hap—— Oh!"
With something akin to a shock he remembered the truth—how he had stood on the edge of the cliff, and how Martin and Toglet had bumped up against him and shoved him over.
"I believe they did it on purpose," he thought. "The villains! What was their object?"
By the darkness Ralph knew it was night, but what time of night he could not tell. Luckily, he had notworn his new watch. The old one was battered, and had stopped.
Presently the bruised and bewildered boy was able to take note of his surroundings, and then he shuddered to think how narrowly he had escaped death.
He had caught in a small tree which grew half way down the side of the cliff, and his head struck on a stone resting between two of the limbs of the tree. Below him was a dark space many feet in depth, above him was a projecting wall of the cliff which hid the top from view.
What to do he did not know. He wished to get either to the top or the bottom of the wall as soon as possible, but he did not dare make the effort in his feeble condition and without the aid of daylight.
"I must remain here until dawn," he concluded. "I can do nothing until I can see my way."
To prevent himself from falling should he grow faint or doze off, he tied himself to the limbs of the tree with several bits of cord he happened to have in his pocket.
Hour after hour went by, and he sat there, alternately nursing his wounds and clutching his aching head, and wondering why the two men had treated him so cruelly. Never once did he suspect that they were the hirelings of Squire Paget.
"They did not rob me," he said to himself, after he had searched his pockets and found his money and other valuables safe. "And yet I am positive that it was not an accident."
At last the morning dawned. With the first rays oflight Ralph looked about for some manner of releasing himself from his perilous position.
To climb up to the top of the cliff was impossible. There was nothing but the bare rocks to clutch, and they would afford no hold worth considering.
Therefore, he must go down; but such a course was nearly as hazardous.
With great care he lowered himself to the cleft from which the tree that had saved his life sprung. Having gained this, he scrambled down along a fringe of brush. Then it was necessary to drop a distance of ten feet, and crawl on hands and knees around a sharp corner to where a slope of dirt led to the bottom. On the dirt he slipped, and he could not stop himself until he had rolled into a clump of bushes directly at the base of the cliff.
"It was necessary to drop a distance of ten feet." See page 168."It was necessary to drop a distance of ten feet." Seepage 168.
Still more bruised, he picked himself up with a thankful feeling. At last he was free from the danger which had hung over him so grimly. He breathed a long sigh of relief.
Water was at his feet and his first task was to bathe his face and hands. Then he bound his handkerchief over his bruised temple. He looked about for his cap, and was not long in finding it.
"I suppose those fellows have left the island, and if so they have doubtless taken the sloop," he thought, dismally. "I'll make certain, though, and be on my guard while I am doing it."
He walked slowly and painfully to the cove where the boat had been left, but, as we already know, it was gone.
"They have taken themselves off and left me behindfor dead," Ralph said to himself. "Well, thank fortune, I am alive!"
The boy was in a sad situation. He was without food and with no means of communication with the mainland on either side of the lake.
"I must see if I can't signal some passing boat," he thought. "It is impossible to swim to the shore, especially now when I feel as weak as a rag."
Ralph had just struck out for the opposite side of the island, that upon which all of the regular lake boats passed, when the report of a gun reached his ears.
It came from some distance to the north, and was soon followed by several other shots.
He wondered if it could be Martin and Toglet, or some sportsmen. Determined to find out, he set out as rapidly as he could in the direction of the sound.
After passing through a patch of woods and over a hill of rough stones, he came to a thicket of blueberry bushes. As he entered it there came another shot, not a hundred feet away.
In a moment more the boy espied a sportsman, dressed in a regular hunting garb.
"Hallo, there!" he called out.
"Hallo, boy!" returned the man, cheerily. "Out hunting, like myself?"
"No, sir," replied Ralph. "Yes, I am, too," he added, with a faint smile—"I am hunting for help."
"Help?" The sportsman put down his gun. "Why, what's the matter with your head?"
"I've had a bad tumble. Two men pushed me over the cliff on the other side of the island."
"The dickens you say! Pushed you over?"
"Yes, sir."
"What for? Did they rob you?"
"No, sir."
"Oh, then it was an accident, perhaps?"
"I don't think so. I don't see how it could have been accidental."
"Well, you arouse my curiosity. Tell me your story—or, you said you wanted help. What can I do for you?"
"If you have a boat you can put me ashore. The two men took my boat."
"Then they robbed you after all."
"But they didn't go through my pockets," returned Ralph.
Sitting down on a soft knoll of grass, the boy told his story to Carter Franklin, for such was the sportsman's name. The latter listened with interest.
"Certainly an odd occurrence, to say the least, my young friend. What could have been the object of the two villains?"
"I cannot say, sir."
"It is impossible to imagine they wished to murder you merely for your boat."
"That is true, sir."
"Depend upon it, they were up to something more. It may be that they were hired to do the deed."
Ralph started.
"That may be!" he cried.
"Have you any great enemies?"
"I have enemies, but none so bad as to wish to take my life," returned Ralph, and he thought he told the truth.
"Humph! Well, it's strange. I suppose you would like to be set ashore as soon as possible?"
"Yes, sir."
"You say you came from Glen Arbor? I have only a rowboat at hand——"
"You can land me anywhere," interrupted Ralph. "I can easily tramp it or catch a ride back to where I belong."
"Very well; follow me."
The boy followed the sportsman down the hill to the shore. Here lay a trim-looking boat with a pair of oars on the seats. Both at once sprang in. Ralph was about to take up the blades, but the man stopped him.
"You are too broke up to row," he said. "Sit down and take it easy."
"You are very kind, sir."
"Don't mention it. I only trust you are able to catch those rascals and bring them to justice."
The main shore was soon gained, at a point about six miles above Glen Arbor, and Ralph sprang out. He thanked Carter Franklin again for his kindness, and then started off for home, thinking soon to be able to tell his mother and his friends his strange tale and start out a party to search for his assailants. He did not know that he was destined to have many strange adventures ere he should reach Westville again.
Ralph was so sore and stiff from his fall that he walked very slowly toward Westville. It seemed to him that he ached in every joint, and it was not long before he sought a soft grassy bank upon which to rest.
"If only somebody would come along with a wagon," he thought, as he gazed up and down the rather rough woodland road. "I would willingly pay a half-dollar for a lift, as much as I need my money."
The boy was much exercised over his mother. He knew that she would be greatly worried over his prolonged absence. Never before had he remained away from home over night.
No wagon or any other vehicle appeared, and Ralph was forced to resume his journey on foot, dragging his tired and bruised body along as best he could.
Presently he came to a tiny stream that flowed into Big Silver Lake. Here he stopped again, not only to rest, but also to bathe his temples and obtain a drink, for the water was both pure and cold.
He could not help but think of the strange manner in which he had been attacked. What had been the purpose of Martin and Toglet?
"If I did not know better, I would be almost forced tobelieve it was accidental," he thought. "But in that case they would have come to my assistance, instead of taking the sloop and hurrying off with her."
It was so comfortable a spot at the brook that Ralph rested there longer than he had originally intended. But at last he arose and moved on, thankful that he had accomplished at least one-third of the distance home.
The road now left the vicinity of the lake and led up into the woods and across several deep ravines. It also crossed the railroad track, for there was a spur of the main line which came down to Glen Arbor—this spur being the only railroad in the vicinity.
Ralph had just crossed the tracks, when happening to glance toward an old shed in the vicinity, he saw something which filled him with astonishment. Emerging from the place were two men, and they were Martin and Toglet!
At first the boy could scarcely credit his senses. But a second look convinced him that he was not mistaken. They were his two assailants, true enough.
Ralph stood still, not knowing whether to advance or retreat. Before he could decide the point, Martin and Toglet, who had spent the night in the shanty after leaving Squire Paget, discovered him.
Toglet gave a cry of terror, thinking he was looking upon a ghost. Martin also uttered a yell, but it was more of astonishment than aught else.
"Look! look!" shrieked Toglet.
And he pointed with his long finger.
"It's the boy, as I'm a sinner!" burst out Martin.
"It's his ghost! Oh, why did I——"
"Shut up! It's the boy, I tell you! He must have escaped in some miraculous manner. See, his forehead is bound up," went on Martin.
"But how could he escape?" asked Toglet, faintly.
"That is more than I can answer. But there he is, and all our work was for nothing," growled Martin.
"Never mind; we've got the two hundred," began his younger companion.
"But we haven't the five hundred additional," grumbled Martin. "Let us go after him."
Martin strode forward, and shaking in every limb, Toglet followed.
Each of the rascals carried his gun, and as they advanced upon him, Ralph thought it best to retreat. There was no telling what they would do. For all he knew, they might try to finish their dastardly work.
"Hi! hi! stop!" called out Martin, as he began to run.
"What do you want?" called back Ralph.
"I want to talk to you. What are you afraid of?"
"You know perfectly well," returned Ralph.
"Ain't you going to stop?"
"Not just now. Come up to the railroad station and do the talking."
"Don't you do it," put in Toglet, in alarm. "He'll have us arrested."
"Stop where you are, or it will be the worse for you," went on Martin.
He raised his gun and pointed it at Ralph's head.
Fearful that the villain would shoot him, Ralph left the road and dodged behind a clump of trees.
There was no longer the slightest doubt in the boy's mind concerning the two men. They had meant to take his life, and they were still disposed to carry out their intention.
"He has gone into the woods," cried Toglet. "Why not let him go?"
"You fool! If he gets away he'll have the officers of the law on our track in no time!" ejaculated Martin. "We must catch him by all means!"
He sprang on ahead, and was soon making after the boy as rapidly as his long legs would carry him.
Ralph heard him coming, and once more he moved away. He left the patch of wood, and a second later came out on the railroad tracks.
As he did so, he heard a locomotive whistle, and a locomotive rolled past, followed by a long line of empty freight cars.
"Now I'll catch him!" cried Martin to Toglet. "He can't cross the tracks while the cars are passing."
He rushed toward Ralph, who did not know which way to turn. Up the track a big cut in the rocks blocked his way, and down was a deep ravine.
Just then, for some reason apparent to the engineer, the long train slackened its speed for a moment. A freight car came to a halt directly in front of Ralph, the big side doors wide open.
Hardly giving the matter a second thought, the boysprang up into the car, intending to let himself out on the other side.
But before he could accomplish his purpose the train gave a jerk, and in a second more was on its way on a down grade at such a rate of speed that to leap off would have been highly dangerous.
Ralph was exhausted by his run, and when the car started off he could hardly stand. He clutched at the side and staggered to one end, and then sank down in a heap in the corner. The excitement had been too much for him in his weak state, and he had fainted.
When he came to his senses all was dark around him. A strange whirr sounded in his ears, coming from the car wheels, and telling him that the car was still in motion.
He arose to his feet, and then made the discovery that although it was dark in the car, it was daylight outside. The reason was plain—both of the doors on either side had been closed during the time that he had been lying in the corner.
Feeling his way along the side of the empty car he at length reached one of the doors only to find it locked. He crossed over to the other side to find a similar condition of affairs. He was a prisoner in the freight car and riding he knew not where.
"Well, this is too bad!" he murmured to himself, as, too weak to stand longer, he sank down on the floor. "I wonder how long I have been riding?"
This was a question just then impossible to answer,but he made up his mind that he had been riding for some little time, possibly half an hour or more.
There was satisfaction, however, in the thought that he had escaped from Martin and Toglet. It was not likely that they had been able to board the train, even if inclined to do so, which was decidedly doubtful.
A half-hour went by, and still the car rattled on, up grade and down, without once slacking its speed.
"I'd like to know if we're not going to stop pretty soon," Ralph murmured to himself.
He was getting thirsty, and knew it would not be long before he would need both food and drink.
Getting up once more he began to kick upon one of the doors with the heel of his shoe. He kicked as loudly and as long as he could, but no one came to answer his summons.
At the end of another hour Ralph began to grow alarmed. The train had stopped once, but kicking on the door and shouting had brought no one to his aid. It looked as if he must remain in the car until the journey's end.
"We must be miles away from Westville by this time," he thought. "I would like to know where we are going, east, west, north, or south? Perhaps they'll land me in some out-of-the-way place that I never even heard of before."
Another hour passed, and Ralph began to grow sleepy. He laid down, and, making a pillow of some loose hay in the bottom of the car, began to take it easy. In ten minutes more he was sound asleep.
His awakening was a rude one. Somebody touched him in the side with the toe of a boot, and the light of a smoky lantern was flashed into his face.
"Get out of here, you tramp!" cried a rough voice. "Get out of here at once, before I turn you over to the police!"
"Who—what——" stammered Ralph, rising to his feet.
But before he could say more he was jerked backward and sent flying out-of the car into the darkness.
"Now get out of the freight yard," said the man who had ejected him so forcibly. "Skip, do you hear?"
And he raised a stick he carried so threateningly that Ralph was glad to retreat.
Hardly knowing what to make of such rough and unexpected treatment, Ralph staggered toward a large gateway close at hand. He passed through and found himself on a narrow and dirty street, at the upper end of which were a number of tenement houses and saloons.
"Where in the world am I?" he murmured to himself, as he passed his hand over his forehead, from which the bandage had slipped. "What place can this be?"
The cool night air braced the boy up, and soon he felt stronger. But he was very thirsty, and was willing enough to stop at a nearby street fountain for a drink.
He heard a distant bell strike twice, and he knew it must be two o'clock in the morning. His involuntary ride had lasted over ten or twelve hours at least—the length depending upon the time spent in the freight yard before disturbed by the night watchman.
The street was practically deserted, saving for several men who were staggering along under the influence of liquor. All the stores were closed.
"I must find some place to stay for the rest of the night, no matter what place I am in," thought Ralph, and hewalked on for a dozen blocks or more, looking for a hotel or lodging-house.
At last he came to a place that was still partly open. Over the doorway was the sign in gold letters:
ROYAL CROWN HOTEL,Beds, 25 Cents per Night.
"Certainly not a very expensive place," thought Ralph, and he peered inside to where a sleepy clerk sat dozing in a chair beside the desk.
Entering, he aroused the clerk, and asked if he could obtain accommodations.
"Certainly," was the prompt reply. "Single room, one dollar; two beds, seventy-five cents; six beds, a quarter. Which will you have?"
"Any place will do for me, so long as it's clean," returned the boy, who was not inclined to be wasteful of his limited capital. The total amount in his pockets was not over six dollars, part of which belonged to the boatman for whom he worked.
"All our beds are clean," said the clerk, sharply. "Pay in advance, please."
Ralph brought out a quarter and passed it over.
"Can I get a bite to eat anywhere before I go to bed?" he asked.
"There's an all-night lunchroom on the corner above."
"Thank you. I'll get something, for I have had no supper. I came in on a train and went to sleep. I don't even know what place this is," Ralph went on.
"Don't, eh? This is Jersey City."
Jersey City! Could it be possible! Then he had indeed taken a long trip.
Ralph knew that Jersey City lay just across the river from New York. A short ride would take him into the great metropolis. Despite the fact that he wished himself safe at home, the thought of seeing New York filled him with pleasure.
"I must send word to mother that I am safe and tell her all of what has happened, and then spend a day or two in New York before I go back," he said to himself. "I may not get the chance of seeing the city again for a long time."
Ralph found the all-night lunchroom without much trouble, and entering, he sat down at one of the numerous tables. He was a well-read boy, and therefore did not appear as "green" as he might otherwise have done.
A waiter soon came to serve him.
"What will you have?" he asked.
"What have you got?"
"All kinds of dairy dishes, tea, coffee, and oysters."
"I'll take an oyster stew."
"Anything else?"
"I guess not."
The stew was soon brought. It was a fairly good one, and the hungry boy ate it with a great relish, consuming all of the crackers that went with it.
While he was eating, a short, stout man, with his arm done up in a sling, entered the place, and after gazing around sharply, came and sat down close to Ralph.
"How is the stew, pretty good?" he asked.
"I think so," returned the boy.
"All right, then. Waiter, an oyster stew."
While he was eating his stew the man began to converse with Ralph. He said his name was Jackson Walters, and that he had just come into the city from Toledo, Ohio.
"And I feel mighty strange," he added. "Do you know the city pretty well?"
"Not at all. I just got in myself," said Ralph.
"Indeed! Then we are in the same boat. Stopping with friends or at a hotel?"
"I am going to stop at a hotel over night."
This reply seemed to please Jackson Walters, and he drew up closer, hurrying to finish his stew at the same time.
"Good enough. Perhaps we can stop together. I feel rather lonely here," he said.
"I am afraid my hotel wouldn't be good enough for you," replied Ralph, honestly. "I didn't want to waste my money, and so chose a cheap place."
"Well, I want something cheap, too," said Jackson Walters. He was more pleased than ever over the idea that Ralph had money even if he did not care to spend it.
"Where is the hotel?"
"Just down the street a step. I will show you if you wish it."
"Let us take a room together," suggested Jackson Walters, as they left the restaurant. "I hate to go in among perfect strangers, don't you?"
"Yes, but it couldn't be helped. I took a quarter bed, and there are six in a room."
"Humph! six! That's too many. How much do they want for a room for two?"
"Seventy-five cents each."
"Then I'll tell you what I'll do—I'll pay the dollar if you'll pay the fifty cents. Those rooms with six beds in are vile."
Ralph hesitated a moment, and then said he was agreeable. He, too, did not imagine, after some reflection, that the bed for a quarter of a dollar could be very good.
They soon reached the hotel, and Jackson Walters explained the new arrangement to the clerk. Ralph paid over another twenty-five cents, and his new friend the dollar, and then a boy was called to conduct them to room No. 96, on the third floor.
"Call me at half-past seven," said Jackson Walters. "I don't know when you want to get up," he said to Ralph.
"That will suit me, sir," was the boy's reply.
He usually arose at an earlier hour, but thought he deserved a longer rest, considering what he had passed through.
The boy led them up two flights of narrow stairs, and showed them the room, at the same time lighting the gas. He had brought a pitcher of water with him, and placing this on the washstand, he left, closing the door behind him.
The room was plainly but neatly furnished, and although the bed was scratched and old-fashioned, it wasclean. It did not take Ralph long to undress and get under the covers.
"Do you sleep with a light?" asked Jackson Walters. "I never do."
"Nor I."
So the gas was put out, and a moment later Ralph's companion retired also. In a few minutes he began to breathe heavily, as though in the soundest of slumbers.
But this was all sham. He was far from being asleep, as the sequel soon showed.
Ten minutes later Ralph fell asleep, to dream of home and all that had been left behind.
In a few minutes after this, Jackson Walters crawled from the bed, and began to don his clothing silently, but in great haste. He put on his stockings, but he placed his shoes in his coat pockets.
This done, he took up Ralph's clothing from where it lay on a chair. With a dexterity worthy of a better cause, he went through the pockets, searching for everything of value.
His nefarious task was soon accomplished. Ralph slept on unconscious, and did not awaken when Jackson Walters opened the door and glided out.
The thief was soon below. The clerk dozed away in the office, and in his stocking feet the man had no difficulty in passing out of the building without being noticed.
Once on the pavement he slipped on his shoes.
"Not much of a haul, but a good deal better than nothing," he chuckled to himself, and disappeared down the street which led toward the ferries.
It was daylight when Ralph awakened from what had been an unusually sound sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, wondering for the moment where he was. Then the recollection of what had occurred flashed over his mind. He looked beside him, and saw that Jackson Walters had gone.
"He must have dressed and left me to sleep it out," he thought. "I wonder what time—hallo! what does that mean?"
Ralph had espied his clothing in a heap on the floor, most of the pockets inside out. With a strange fear he leaped from the bed and made a hasty examination. It was only too true—he had been robbed.
"That fellow was nothing but a sharper!" he ejaculated to himself. "What a fool I was to be taken in by his smooth tongue! He took me for a greeny from the country, and he was right."
Ralph did not know enough to ring for the proprietor of the hotel and acquaint him with the facts in the case. He scrambled into his clothing as best he could, and washed and brushed up all in a minute.
When he reached the office he found a new man at the desk.
"I have been robbed," he said.
"Robbed!" cried the clerk. "By whom?"
"A man who occupied the same room that I did," replied the boy.
He told what he knew, to which the clerk listened with interest. But the hotel clerk saw that Ralph was green, so he took no responsibility upon his own shoulders. He said he would notify the police, but it was likely nothing would be heard of Jackson Walters.
The matter was talked over for half an hour, and then Ralph left the place to see if he could trace up the thief. He walked around until noon, without any success.
"This is the worst yet," he muttered to himself, as he at last came to a halt down near one of the ferries. "Here I am in the city without a cent in my pocket. What in the world shall I do?"
Had Ralph been in New York he would have made an effort to hunt up Horace Kelsey, the gentleman he had assisted while he was acting as bridge tender. The gentleman had told him to call whenever he was in the city, and he had no doubt but what he could raise a loan when he stated how he was situated.
At length he decided to go back to the hotel and see if anything had been heard of Jackson Walters. He went back, only to be disappointed.
But the visit was productive of some good. Hearing that he had a friend in New York, the hotel keeper gave him a quarter of a dollar with which to get over the ferry and pay other expenses while hunting him up.
Ralph was soon back to the river, and in company with a great stream of people, he purchased a ferry ticket and went aboard one of the boats.
The trip on such a craft was a novelty, and he was sorry it did not last longer. Yet when the boat touched on the other side he was one of the first ashore.
Ralph was now in the great city of New York, and the country boy could not help but stare about him at the bustle and apparent confusion on all sides. By a miracle he managed to cross Wall street in safety, and then, learning that Broadway lay several blocks beyond, he followed the crowd in that direction.
"It's a big place, and no mistake," he said to himself. "My gracious, what tall buildings, and how they are crowded together!"
At last Broadway was reached, that greatest of all metropolitan thoroughfares. It was the most wonderful of all sights to Ralph, so many cars, and wagons, and trucks, not to mention people. He stood on the corner so long that at last a policeman came up and told him to move on.
Ralph was sorry he could not remember Horace Kelsey's number. The insurance agent's card was at home, and the boy had not troubled himself to commit the address to memory. He knew it was on Broadway, and that was all.
"I suppose I might inquire at some of the insurance offices," he thought, at length. "I'll step into the next one I run across."
It was not long before he came to such a place as hewas looking for. He entered and made known his wants to the clerk, who advanced to ascertain his wishes.
"Horace Kelsey?" said the clerk. "Don't know the man."
"He is an insurance agent," went on Ralph.
"Good many insurance agents in New York. You might look in the directory. There is one on that stand over by the window."
"Thank you, I'll try it," replied the boy.
He soon found the list of men in the insurance business. Running down the column of K's, he came across the name Kelsey, Horace, insurance broker, with his office address and also his home address, up-town.
Making a mental note of both, Ralph hurried out. A policeman directed him to the tall office building in which his friend had rooms, and he was soon on his way thither.
Arriving at the building, the boy took his first ride in an elevator. It must be confessed that the lift moved so fast and the sensation was so unusual that it made him somewhat sick. When he got out at the right floor he felt as if he was walking on air for a few seconds.
He found Horace Kelsey's office handsomely fitted up. There were several young gentlemen clerks and two young lady typewriters. Evidently business was in a prosperous condition.
Ralph was disappointed to find that the gentleman himself was not visible.
"I came to see Mr. Kelsey," he said, to the clerk who greeted him.
"Mr. Kelsey is out, sir. What can we do for you?"
"I will wait until Mr. Kelsey comes in, please. My business is with him personally."
"I'm afraid you'll have to wait a long time," smiled the clerk. "Mr. Kelsey is out of the city."
Ralph's heart sank at this announcement. He had felt sure that assistance was close at hand.
"When do you expect him to return?"
"I can hardly say, perhaps to-day, perhaps to-morrow or the day after. It depends on when he finishes up the business on hand."
Ralph heaved a sigh. The clerk saw that he was greatly disappointed.
"Can't you come in to-morrow and see if he has returned?" he asked.
"I guess so," faltered the boy. "But I expected sure to meet him to-day," he went on.
"Very sorry."
"I will come in again before you close, if you don't mind."
"Not at all; come whenever you please. We are open until five o'clock here."
Ralph left his name and then quitted the offices. He did not bother taking the elevator down, but used the winding stairs instead.
He had reached the second floor, and was about to start down for the street when he caught sight of a man standing on the stone steps below. The man was Jackson Walters.
"The rascal!" muttered Ralph, to himself. "How fortunate to catch sight of him!"
He sprang down the steps two at a time. Walters heard him coming, and looked around. But before he could attempt to move away, Ralph had him tightly by the arm.
"So I've caught you, have I?" he said, bluntly. "Why—er—really—you have the advantage of me," stammered Jackson Walters, coldly.
"I guess I have, and it's a good thing, too," returned Ralph.
"I—er—don't know you."
"What!" ejaculated the boy, in amazement.
"I say I don't know you. Isn't that plain enough?"
"Well, I know you plain enough. You are the man who roomed with me last night and robbed me."
"'Pon my word, I never saw you before. This is some extraordinary mistake."
"No mistake about it," returned Ralph, doggedly. He was not to be buncombed by the oily manner of the thief.
"Let go of my arm, boy!"
"I will not. You are the thief, and you must return what you stole from me," said Ralph.
He spoke rather loudly, and a crowd began to collect about the two. In a few seconds a policeman hurried up to ascertain the cause of the trouble.
"What's the matter here?" exclaimed the policeman, as he pushed his way forward.
"This man is a thief," replied Ralph.
"The boy is mistaken," burst out Jackson Walters, in assumed indignation.
"No, I am not mistaken," said Ralph. "He slept in the same room with me in a hotel in Jersey City last night, and he went through my pockets and got out before I woke up."
"A likely story!" ejaculated the sharper. "I live in Englewood, New Jersey, and I was home last night, as usual."
The policeman looked perplexed. Ralph's earnest manner had impressed him, and yet Jackson Walters looked honest enough.
"You are sure that you are not mistaken in your man?" he asked, of Ralph.
"I am positive, sir."
"He is mistaken," blustered the sharper. "I am an honest man. My name is William G. Harrow, and I am in the crockery business over in Park Place."
"Well, the best you two can do is to come with me," said the policeman.
"Where to?"
"To the police station. You can tell your story there."
"I am willing," returned Ralph, promptly.
"It is an outrage," cried Jackson Walters. "A respectable citizen like myself to be dragged to the station house——"
"You won't be dragged, you can walk," interrupted the policeman, with fine sarcasm.
The fact that Ralph was willing to go while the other was not, had impressed him greatly in the lad's favor.
"It's all the same. This boy is a young gamester. He wanted to frighten me into paying him money. It's a pure case of blackmail."
"If it is, the boy will be sent up for it," replied the policeman, sharply. "Just come with me, both of you."
"I won't go!" cried Jackson Walters, and before he could be stopped he sprang away, and started to cross Broadway.
Like a flash Ralph was after him. The boy was fearful the sharper would get away and the money be lost once more. Before Jackson Walters reached the car tracks Ralph had him by the arm.
"Let go of me!" howled the sharper.
"Not much! I want my money!" replied the boy, stubbornly.
"There, take your confounded money, then!" cried the sharper, and snatching several dollar bills from his vest pocket he flung them in the street.
The sight of the bills relieved Ralph greatly. Hestooped to pick them up, and as he did so, Jackson Walters darted across the street, the policeman at his heels.
With the bills in his hand, Ralph got out of the way of the trucks and wagons as soon as he could. He ran to the sidewalk, and counted the money. There were eleven dollars. In his haste, Jackson Walters had thrown him five dollars more than the amount originally taken.
Ralph now found himself in a new crowd of people. The policeman and the sharper had entirely disappeared.
Thinking to find the pair, the boy crossed Broadway and hunted around, up and down and into several of the side streets. But it was useless, the two had disappeared.
"Well, I am not the loser," thought Ralph, with considerable satisfaction. "I'm the gainer, and if Jackson Walters wants his money let him apply to me for it."
The fact that he now had his money safe once more gave Ralph not a little satisfaction. He was no longer worried over the fact that he might not see Horace Kelsey before nightfall.
It was now noon, and Ralph felt hungry. He walked along until he came to a clean-looking restaurant, which he entered, and called for the regular dinner, at thirty cents. He ate all that was placed before him, with keen relish.
While at the table he reflected upon his situation, and came to the conclusion that his duty was to write to his mother, telling her of all that had happened. He would also ask her to see Bill Franchard and pay him the money due for boat hire, and tell him all, so that he might start on a search for his missing boat.
"Then I'll wait till I see Mr. Kelsey and get his advice as to what to do next," he thought. "Perhaps he'll see through his mystery, even if I do not."
Close to the restaurant Ralph found a stationery store, at which he purchased a sheet of paper and an envelope.
"Will you kindly allow me to write a letter here?" he asked.
"Certainly," replied the clerk. "You will find pen and ink at the desk in the rear."
It took Ralph some little time to compose his letter—he had so much to say—and when he had finished, the sheet was crowded from the first page to the last. He sent his love to his mother, and told her to address him at the general post office.
Ralph's next move was to take his letter to the post office and stamp and mail it. This took nearly half an hour, but the boy enjoyed the trip to the big Government building, and was astonished to note on what a large scale the metropolitan post-office business was conducted.
"This beats the Westville post office all to bits," he murmured to himself. "Mr. Hooker would cut a mighty small figure here, no matter how important he is at home."
The letter mailed, Ralph felt better. It would relieve his mother of much anxiety, and clear up the mystery concerning his strange disappearance.
"Shine yer shoes, boss?"
It was the inquiry of a ragged bootblack standing just outside of the post office building.
"What's that?" asked Ralph.
"Shine yer shoes? Make 'em look like a lookin'-glass, boss."
Ralph glanced down at his shoes, and saw that they were decidedly in need of brushing up.
"What do you charge?" he asked.
"Five fer a regular, an' ten fer an oil finish."
"I cannot afford more than five. Go ahead and do the best you can for that."
"All right, boss, I'll give yer a good one."
The boy dropped on his knees in an angle of the building, and put out his little box before him. In a second he was hard at work with a well-worn whiskbroom, brushing the dirt from the bottom of Ralph's trousers.
"How do you like shining shoes?" questioned Ralph, curiously.
"Don't like it, boss," was the truthful reply. "No, sir. But a feller has got ter do somethin' fer a livin'—or starve."
"And you can't get anything else to do?"
"Nixy. I've tried a hundred times, but it wasn't no go—all the stores and shops is so crowded."
"That is too bad."
"Maybe you kin give me a job?" went on the bootblack, suddenly, and he turned his blue eyes up in expectancy.
"Hardly," laughed Ralph. "I am looking for work myself."
"Dat's too bad. Do yer belong in New York?"
"No; I just arrived this morning."
"Ain't yer got no pull?"
"Pull? What do you mean?"
"No friend ter give yer a lift?"
"I have a friend, yes."
"Is he rich?"
"Yes."
"Den it's all right. But if yer didn't have no pull I would advise yer to go back home. A feller widout a pull in New York can't do nuthin' nohow," and the bootblack gave an extra dash with his brush to emphasize his remarks.
"I haven't been able to see my friend yet. He is out of town."
"Say, maybe yer kin put in a word fer me."
"What is your name?"
"Mickety."
"Mickety? Mickety what?"
"Me udder name is Powers, but da all calls me just Mickety."
"And where do you live, Mickety?"
"Over in Cherry street, wid me old gran'mudder. She can't work, an' I have ter keep t'ings goin'."
"You have to support her, you mean?"
"Dat's it. She's most blind, Gran'ma Sal is."
"It's a good deal on your shoulders," said Ralph, and his respect for the dirty little chap before him increased.
"Dat's why I want ter strike anudder job."
"Well, if I hear of any opening, I'll let you know. Where can I see you?"