The Young Oarsmen of Lakeview
TextCHAPTER XXIV.
THE WORK OF A REAL HERO
Jerry’s heart was in his throat when he sprang to the rescue of the little child in the street. He saw that the horse attached to the ice-wagon could not be stopped and realized only too well what it meant should he be struck down.
Yet the sight of that innocent face nerved him on, and in less time than it takes to write it he had the child in his arms. Clinging to the little one, he flung himself backward, and like a flash the horse sprang past, dragging the ice-wagon so close that the wheels scraped his leg.
A shout went up from the crowd, but Jerry did not hear what was said. Staggering up, he ran back to the sidewalk, leaving the baby-carriage a wreck behind him.
In another moment the girl who had given the first cry of alarm was at Jerry’s side.
“Is he hurt? Is little Tommy hurt?” she cried, as she snatched the youngster from Jerry’s arms.
“Me fell in the dirt,” lisped the little one. “Me ain’t hurt, but me awful dirty.”
“Never mind the dirt, dear,” cried the girl. “I am thankful you escaped. Mary, why didn’t you take better care of him?”
The last words were addressed to an Irish girl who had just sauntered up.
“I went to get a hoky-poky at the corner,” replied the girl. “I don’t care to mind yer brother any more anyway,” she added, and darted out of sight into the crowd.
Seeing the little boy was uninjured, the crowd moved on, and presently the young oarsman found himself alone with the girl, who appeared to be several years older than himself.
“You are a brave boy,” she said, warmly. “I would like to reward you, but I am poor.”
“I don’t want any reward,” replied Jerry, stoutly. “It was a close shave, though.”
“You look like a stranger around here.”
“I am – I just arrived in New York and I am looking for a boarding-house. Can you tell me where this one is?” and Jerry showed her the card the lady had given him.
“Oh, yes; it is one block over to your left – a real nice house, too. May I ask your name?”
“Jerry Upton.”
“Mine is Nellie Ardell, and this is my brother Tommy. We are alone here.”
“Haven’t you any folks?”
“No. Mother was with us up to last winter, but she had consumption and died.”
The tears stood in Nellie Ardell’s eyes as she spoke. Jerry saw at once that she had had a hard struggle of it.
“What do you do for a living?” he ventured to ask.
“I do sewing and mending for my neighbors – principally mending for the girls who work in the stores.”
“And can you make much that way?”
“Not a great deal. But I try to make enough to pay the rent and store bills. May I ask what you are going to do in New York?”
“I came to find a real estate dealer named Alexander Slocum. I want to see him about some property left by my uncle to my father. Have you ever heard of him?”
“Heard of him?” she cried in surprise. “He is my landlord.”
Jerry was dumfounded by this unexpected bit of information.
“You are certain?”
“Why, of course I am. He was around to see me only day before yesterday about the rent. I am a bit behind, and I had to put him off.”
“And what kind of a man is he?”
“I think he is very hard-hearted. But then, that may be because I am behind in my payment. He threatened to put me out of my rooms if I didn’t pay when he called again.”
“How many rooms have you?”
“Only two, and I pay six dollars a month for them.”
“And how far behind are you?”
“I only owe for the month.”
“And he won’t trust you even that long? He certainly must be mean,” Jerry rejoined warmly.
“You said something about property belonging to your father,” said Nellie Ardell. “Has Mr. Slocum an interest in it?”
“He has and he hasn’t,” the boy replied, and he told his story in a few words as they walked along to the entrance of the house in which she lived.
“Well, I trust you get your right, Jerry Upton,” said the girl. “Come and see me some time.”
“I will,” and after Jerry had procured Alexander Slocum’s office address from her, the pair separated.
Jerry was very thoughtful as he proceeded on his way. By a turn of fortune he had gotten on Slocum’s track much quicker than expected. The question was, how should he best approach the man?
“I’ll settle that after I have procured a boarding place,” he thought, and hurried to the address given him.
Mrs. Price, the landlady, was a very nice old person. She had a top room in the back she said she would let with board, for five dollars a week, and Jerry closed with her without delay, paying for one week in advance.
This finished, our hero found he was hungry, and after a washing-up, ate supper with a relish. He could not help but notice that the vegetables and milk served were not as fresh as those at home, but remembered he was now in the city and not on a farm, and did not complain.
Mrs. Price had taken in another new boarder that day, a tall, slim man, possibly thirty years of age. He was introduced as Mr. Wakefield Smith, and he did all he could to make himself popular. Jerry felt that a good bit of his pleasantry was forced, but as there was no use in finding fault, he became quite friendly with the man.
“Supposing we take a walk out together this evening?” Wakefield Smith suggested. “No doubt you would like to see the sights.”
“I’ll go out for an hour or so,” answered the young oarsman, and they started while it was yet light.
Mr. Wakefield Smith knew the metropolis from end to end, and as the pair covered block after block, he pointed out various buildings. He smoked constantly, and several times invited Jerry to have a cigar, but the youth declined.
“Supposing we have a drink, then?” he urged.
Again Jerry declined, which made the man frown. He insisted Jerry should at least have some soda water with him, and at last the boy accepted, and they entered rather a modest looking drug store on a side street.
“Hullo! what’s that crowd on the street?” exclaimed Mr. Wakefield Smith, as the glasses were set out, and as Jerry looked out of the doorway he fancied the man shoved up close to where his glass was standing and made a movement as if to throw something into it.
Jerry saw nothing unusual in the street, and the man’s manner made him suspicious, so that he hesitated about drinking the soda. He swallowed a small portion of it and threw the remainder in a corner.
“What’s the matter, don’t you like it?” demanded Wakefield Smith, almost roughly.
“No, it’s bitter.”
“Humph!” He growled something under his breath. “I’ll not treat you again,” he went on, as they came out on the street.
What Jerry had taken of the soda had made his head ache, and this caused the young oarsman to grow more suspicious than ever. He had read in a daily paper about folks being drugged by friendly strangers, and resolved to be on guard.
The pair passed on the distance of a block, and then Jerry announced his intention of returning home to the boarding-house.
“Oh, don’t go yet,” urged Mr. Wakefield Smith. “Come on across the way. There are some beautiful pictures in an art store window I want to show you. One of the pictures is worth ten thousand dollars.”
He caught our hero by the arm and hurried him over the way and into the crowd. Jerry was jostled to the right and left, and it was fully a minute before he squeezed himself out to a clear spot. Then he looked around for Mr. Wakefield Smith, but the man was gone.
Like a flash Jerry felt something had gone wrong. He put his hand in his pocket. His money was missing!
CHAPTER XXV.
A FRUITLESS SEARCH
“Less than half a day in New York and robbed! Oh, what a greeny I have been!”
Thus Jerry groaned to himself as he searched first one pocket and then another. It was all to no purpose, the money was gone and he was left absolutely penniless.
The young oarsman was certain that Mr. Wakefield Smith had robbed him. He had been wary of the man from the start, and now blamed himself greatly for having given the rascal the chance to take the pocket-book.
Without loss of time Jerry darted into the crowd again, looking in every direction for the thief. He was so eager, he ran plump into an old gentleman, knocking his silk hat to the pavement.
“Hi! hi! stop, you young rascal!” puffed the man, as Jerry stooped and restored the tile to him. “What do you mean by running into me in this fashion?”
“Excuse me, but I have been robbed! I want to catch the thief.”
“Robbed?”
“Yes, sir.”
The gentleman nervously felt to see if his money and watch were safe. Several others heard the words, and they gathered around Jerry.
“Who robbed you?”
“How much did you have?”
“Why didn’t you hold the thief?”
Before Jerry could answer any of the questions a policeman came forward and touched him on the shoulder.
“Are you the boy said he was robbed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What were you robbed of?”
“A pocket-book containing nearly thirty dollars.”
“Did you see the thief?”
“I believe it was a man I was walking with. He called himself Wakefield Smith.”
The policeman questioned Jerry closely, and then took a good look around for the individual. Later on, boy and officer walked to Mrs. Price’s boarding-house.
Here it was learned that Mr. Wakefield Smith had not paid any board money, giving as an excuse that he had nothing less than a one-hundred-dollar bill and that he would pay in the morning. It also came to light that he had walked out with Mrs. Price’s silver-handled umbrella, worth eight dollars.
“The villain!” she cried. “I hope the police catch him!”
“You don’t wish it more than I do,” returned the young oarsman, dolefully. “He took my last dollar.”
Acting on the policeman’s advice, Jerry walked around to the nearest precinct station and made a complaint, giving the best description of Mr. Wakefield Smith he could.
“We will do our best to capture him,” said the captain in charge, and with this promise the youth had to be content.
My readers can imagine our hero did not spend a restful night. He lay awake for several hours speculating on the turn affairs had taken. His board was paid for a week, but that was all. He did not even have money to pay car fare back to Lakeview.
“I wonder what mother and father would say if they knew?” he thought. “I won’t let them know until there’s nothing else to do.”
Jerry arose early the next day and got breakfast before any of the other boarders.
“I must find something to do without delay,” he explained to Mrs Price. “A fellow without a dollar in his pocket can’t afford to remain idle.”
“You have a week’s board coming to you,” she said, with a faint smile.
“Yes, but I haven’t even the price of a car fare in my pocket.”
“Well, Mr. Upton, I like your looks, and if you’ll accept it I’ll loan you a couple of dollars. I suppose it was partly my fault that Smith robbed you. But don’t blame me, I’ve suffered, too.”
“I will accept the loan gladly, Mrs. Price. I don’t like to go around without a cent. I will pay you back as soon as I can.”
“I know you will. I may have been deceived in that Smith, but I am certain I am not in you,” added the landlady.
With the two dollars tucked away in a safe place, Jerry left the house. He knew it would be useless to go to Alexander Slocum’s office at such an early hour, and determined to look around in the hope of striking something whereby he might earn at least enough money to last him while stopping in New York.
“I won’t write home unless I have to,” he muttered to himself. “My time is my own and I’ll make the most of it while I’m here.”
Getting one of the dollar bills changed, Jerry bought a morning paper and looked over the Help Wanted – Males – column, and noted several addresses.
“I’ll try them and lose no time,” he thought, and hurried to the nearest store where a boy was wanted.
He was surprised to find a dozen applicants ahead of him. Worse than that, a boy had already been hired; so all of the others were forced to leave.
Jerry next tried a florist’s establishment. But here a boy was wanted who understood the city thoroughly, and he was quickly told he would not do.
Jerry walked from one place to another for three hours without success. Somewhat disheartened, he strolled into a park close to Broadway and sat down.
The situation was certainly a serious one, and the young oarsman was decidedly sober in mind as he sat there, staring vacantly at the hurrying throng.
“Well, young man, how did you make out last night?”
The question came from a bench just behind Jerry. Looking around, he saw sitting there the gentleman he had run into while trying to find Wakefield Smith.
“I didn’t make out at all, sir.”
“Couldn’t find him, eh?”
“No, sir.”
“Those pickpockets are slick chaps, and no mistake,” went on the gentleman.
“Did you lose much?”
“All I had – nearly thirty dollars.”
“Phew! that is too bad. Well, I wouldn’t sit down to mope about it. You might as well get to work and earn the amount over again.”
“The trouble is, I can’t find any work,” answered the boy, earnestly. “I would work fast enough if I could only find it to do.”
“You are out of a situation?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Since when?”
“Since I came to New York,” answered Jerry.
“You are about as bad off as I was some forty years ago,” said the man, with a broad smile. “At that time I found myself in this city, with just twenty-five cents in my pocket. But I struck employment, and rose from one place to another until now I am my own master, with a bookbinding-shop where I employ nearly fifty hands.”
As he spoke he gazed at Jerry curiously.
“You were going to ask me for a job, weren’t you?” he went on, and Jerry nodded. “What can you do?”
“I’m not used to any such work, sir. But you’ll find me willing and strong – and honest. I would like to earn a little before I went back to my home.”
“Well, those three qualities you mention are sure to win, my boy. Perhaps I can find an opening for you. Here comes a friend I have been waiting for. I am going out of town with him. Call at my shop to-morrow morning, if you don’t strike anything in the meantime.”
And, handing out his card, Mr. Islen walked rapidly away.
Fifteen minutes later found Jerry on the way to Alexander Slocum’s office. In an inner pocket he carried the papers his father had unearthed from the trunk in the garret at home.
CHAPTER XXVI.
ALEXANDER SLOCUM IS ASTONISHED
Jerry felt that his mission to the real estate man was a delicate one. What would he have to say when he learned who the youth was and what he had come for?
The boy resolved to be on guard. He might be from the country and green, but no one should catch him napping, as had Mr. Wakefield Smith.
The distance to the address furnished by Nellie Ardell was nearly a dozen blocks, but Jerry was used to walking and made the journey on foot.
The young oarsman found Alexander Slocum’s set of offices located on the top floor of an old-fashioned four-story office building. There was an elevator, however, and this Jerry used and soon found himself in front of a ground-glass door, which bore the sign:
Alexander Slocum,
Real Estate and Fire Insurance
Loans Negotiated
There was a hum of voices from within, but the hum ceased as Jerry knocked.
“Come in,” was the short invitation, and the boy entered, to find a large apartment, comfortably furnished with desks, stuffed chairs and other things which went to show that the man he had come to interview was doing well.
Near an open window sat two gentlemen dressed in black. One was much older than the other, and Jerry rightfully guessed that he was an office assistant.
The other man was well preserved, with a waxed mustache and piercing black eyes. He held a silk hat in his hand, as if he had been on the point of leaving.
“Well, young man, what can I do for you?” questioned the office assistant, as he regarded Jerry indifferently.
“I came to see Mr. Alexander Slocum,” replied our hero.
“I am Mr. Slocum,” put in the other man. “What is it you want?”
“I came to see you on a bit of private business, sir.”
“Yes. Well, Mr. Casey here knows all about my affairs; so you need have no hesitation in speaking in front of him,” laughed the real estate man somewhat harshly.
“I am Jerry Upton, and I came from Lakeview. My uncle, Charles Upton, who is now dead, was once interested in a colonization land scheme that you started.”
Jerry watch Mr. Slocum narrowly as he spoke, and saw that the man was greatly astonished. He started back, and for an instant the assuring look his face wore faded.
“Jerry Upton from Lakeview,” he murmured slowly. Then he cleared his throat. “I – I did not expect to see you.”
“I suppose not, sir.”
“What is it you want?”
“I want to find out how matters stand in regard to the land in California. My father heard you had gone to Europe.”
“I did go to Europe, but not to escape inquiry,” added Slocum, hastily. “You see, that scheme failed utterly,” he went on slowly. “Why, I lost nearly every dollar I possessed in it. What your uncle lost was nothing in comparison.”
“It was to him, Mr. Slocum. To whom does the land belong?”
“Why, it – er – it reverted to its original owners, some mine speculators of Denver.”
“Where is the land located?”
“Not far from the city of Sacramento.”
“Can’t you give me the precise location?”
At this Alexander Slocum glared at our hero savagely.
“It would do you no good to spend money on hunting the matter up,” he answered. “That affair was settled long ago. The money was lost, and that is all there is to it.”
“Not if I know it, Mr. Slocum. I intend to sift the matter to the bottom. I am convinced that all was not carried out as it should have been.”
“You appear to be a very foolish boy.”
“That may be your opinion, but it won’t alter my intention. I have my uncle’s papers with me, and, unless you will give me some particulars of how the scheme fell through, I shall place the matter in the hands of a lawyer.”
Alexander Slocum winced at this, and Jerry fancied he was hard struck. He made a movement as if to clutch the youth by the arm, then drew back.
“You have your uncle’s papers?” he asked cautiously.
“Yes. My father is his sole heir.”
“I should like to see them. Perhaps I spoke hastily; but really you are mistaken in thinking it can be of any use to bring that old deal up again. The money was lost, and there is no chance of getting it back again.”
“But, either you are responsible for the amount, or else my uncle’s interest in the land still holds good,” said Jerry.
“Let me see the papers.”
Mr. Slocum made a movement as if to take them. But Jerry drew back and shook his head.
“I prefer not to let them go out of my possession.”
“Do you mean to say you won’t trust me?”
“You can put it that way, if you wish, Mr. Slocum.”
The real estate man bit his lip. Then he made a movement to his assistant, who at once slid behind Jerry, towards the door.
“What are you going to do?” the young oarsman asked, in alarm.
Without replying, the assistant locked the door and slipped the key into his pocket.
“Don’t grow excited,” said Alexander Slocum, coldly. “I want to see those papers, that’s all. Show them to me at once!”
Like a flash Jerry realized he was trapped by the enemy.
CHAPTER XXVII.
JERRY’S CLEVER ESCAPE
Jerry saw at once that things were growing warm. From the look on his face it was plain to see that Alexander Slocum was in deadly earnest when he said he wanted to see those papers.
His manner made our hero feel that the papers would not be safe in his hands. If he gave them up he might never see them again, and without the documents the claim on the land in California would fall flat.
“Did you hear what I said, Upton? I want you to let me see those papers,” Slocum went on, after a second of intense silence.
“What do you mean by locking that door?” Jerry demanded of the elderly assistant, without paying any attention to the real estate dealer’s words.
Casey made no response. Instead, he took his stand by his employer’s side, as if awaiting further orders.
“You act as if you were afraid of me,” sneered Slocum. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You won’t – not if I can help it,” answered Jerry. “But I want you to unlock that door. I am not to be treated as a prisoner.”
“I only wanted to secure us against interruption. So many agents come up here, and they are a regular nuisance.”
Slocum advanced and held out his hand, as if expecting Jerry would drop the precious papers into it. Instead, the boy retreated and took up a position behind a flat-top desk in the centre of the office.
At this the real estate dealer grew furious behind his well-waxed mustache. He had expected to intimidate our hero easily, and now he was nonplused.
“Are you going to let me see those papers?” he fumed.
“No; at least not now.”
“Why not?”
“I prefer not to answer that question.”
“You think you have a case against me – that you can place me in a tight hole.”
“Well, if all is straight you have nothing to fear.”
“Don’t preach to me, boy. All is straight. I lost my money as well as the others did.”
“This doesn’t look as if you had lost much,” ventured Jerry, as he glanced about the elegant apartment.
“Oh, I have made money since, in a lucky real estate deal in Brooklyn. I won’t keep your papers.”
“I want that door unlocked.”
Slocum muttered something under his breath, and his face grew suddenly red. Like a flash he placed his hands on the flat desk and leaped over it.
“I’ll bring you to terms, you young country fool!” he cried, and made a clutch for Jerry’s collar.
Had our hero not turned like a flash he would have had the lad. But Jerry was on guard and fled to the office door. Raising his foot he gave the barrier a kick that caused it to crack heavily.
“Stop that!”
“I won’t. Let me out, or I’ll kick the door down.”
“Casey, catch the young rascal!” cried Slocum. “I’m going to teach him a thing or two.”
Anxious to obey the command of the man who held him completely under his thumb, Casey ran forward. Seeing him coming, Jerry fled behind a large screen. Here rested a heavy cane, and he picked it up and brandished it over his head.
“Keep back! Advance at your peril.”
“I’m afraid to go near the young fool,” said Casey.
“I’ll fix him. Stand aside. I never yet saw the boy that could get the best of me,” muttered Alexander Slocum.
“He may kill you, Mr. Slocum.”
“I’ll risk it.”
Running around the desk, the real estate dealer came for the young oarsman. As he approached, the boy pushed the screen against him and he went down, with the heavy object on top of him.
“You – you villain!” he spluttered.
To this Jerry made no answer. Taking advantage of the time afforded him, he looked around for some means of escaping his enemies. To remain a moment longer in the office he felt would be perilous in the extreme.
Near the corner to which Jerry had retreated was an open window. Glancing out of it he saw that the roof of the next building was but six or eight feet below the window sill.
Without stopping to think twice, our hero leaped out of the window and on to the roof below.
“Stop! stop!”
Both Slocum and his assistant called after Jerry, but he paid no attention. Leaving the vicinity of the window, he ran along the roof to the rear. Here there was an addition to a tin-shop underneath, and he dropped down and found himself within twelve feet of a narrow alleyway.
“Are you coming back?” bawled Alexander Slocum; and then, as Jerry let himself down over the edge of the roof, he suddenly disappeared from the window.
Guessing he was coming down to head him off, the youth lost no time in dropping to the ground.
Once down, it was an easy matter to gain the street. As he came out on the pavement, Slocum came running up all out of breath.
“You’re a fine boy!” he cried. “Come back to the office, and let us talk matters over.”
“Not to-day,” answered Jerry. “I’ve had enough of a dose for the present.”
“You are making a mistake.”
“I don’t intend to put my head into the lion’s mouth.”
While the two were speaking Casey came up, and, as the two appeared as if they wanted to drag Jerry back into the building just left, the youth retreated.
Alexander Slocum followed for a block, and then gave up the chase. Seeing this, Jerry walked on more leisurely.
Our hero’s visit to the real estate dealer had set him to thinking deeply. The man’s anxiety concerning the papers made the boy feel sure there was more at the bottom of the land speculation than either his parents or he had suspected.
Perhaps the land was still held by this man and was of great value. If this was so how was he to go to work to establish his father’s claim?
Pondering over the affair, the young oarsman thought of Mr. Randolph Islen and of his kindness. He resolved to tell that gentleman his story and see what he would have to say.
This conclusion reached, Jerry felt in his inner pocket to see if the precious papers were still safe. To his horror they were gone.