Transcriber's Notes: 1) Table of Contents added. 2) A 'TN' is noted within the text where Mortimer was incorrectly referred to as Randolph. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration]

 THE BOY BROKER

 or

 Among the Kings of Wall Street

 By FRANK A MUNSEY

 Illustrated

[Illustration: HERBERT RANDOLPH EMERGES FROM THE CELLAR IN WHICH HE HASBEEN KEPT A PRISONER. ]

 THE BOY BROKER;

 OR, AMONG THE KINGS OF WALL STREET. 

 BY

 FRANK A. MUNSEY. 

 NEW YORK: FRANK A. MUNSEY & CO. , PUBLISHERS, 81 WARREN STREET. 1888. 

 COPYRIGHT, 1888, BY FRANK A. MUNSEY. 

 [_All rights reserved. _]

 PRESS OF FERRIS BROTHERS. 420 Pearl Street, N. Y. 

 TO MY DEAR FATHER, WHOSE RIGID NEW ENGLAND DISCIPLINE SEEMED TO ME AS A BOY SEVERE AND UNNECESSARY, THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED WITH THE GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT THAT HE WAS RIGHT AND THAT I WAS WRONG. FOR THIS TRAINING AND FOR ALL ELSE I OWE HIM I CAN PAY THE DEBT BEST BY LIVING THE LIFE THAT WILL PLEASE HIM MOST. 

PREFACE. 

The best story for boys is the one that will help them most and givethem the greatest pleasure--the story that will make them more manly, more self reliant, more generous, more noble and sweeter in disposition. Such a story I have aimed to make THE BOY BROKER. The moral or lesson itcontains could be put into a very short lecture, but as a lecture I amconfident that it would prove valueless. Boys are benefited little byadvice. They seldom listen to it and less frequently make any practicalapplication of it. Imitative by nature, they are easily influenced bythose with whom they associate, and no associate, in my opinion, hasso strong a grasp upon them as the hero of some much prized book. Hebecomes a real being to their young, healthy imagination--their idealof manliness, bravery, generosity, and nobility. He enters into theirlives, their sports, their adventures, their kind acts, a companion, amodel so much idealized and admired that unconsciously they grow to belike him in so far as their surroundings will permit. In a good storyplot and action are but the setting to the gem--the means of conveying alesson in disguise in such a way that the reader will not suspect he isbeing taught. Let it once occur to him that he is reading a lecture andthe book will at once be quietly but most effectually packed away. Manyauthors, it seems to me, fail in their purpose by devoting too muchtime to the gem and too little to the setting. Others go too far theother way and write stories that give young readers a wrong idea oflife--stories whose heroes do improbable and unnatural acts. While mypurpose has been to make THE BOY BROKER interesting I have aimed to givea true idea of life in a great city. So much nonsense of a misleadingcharacter has been written about benevolent old gentlemen who help poorboys from the country that I have sought to turn the light of fact onthe subject and picture a little real life--about such life as a boy mayexpect to find if he comes to New York friendless and alone. He mightfind it much worse; he could not wisely hope to find it better. 

 FRANK A. MUNSEY. NEW YORK, _September, 1888_. 

CONTENTS

 PAGE I An Introduction to the Great City 11 II An Effort to Obtain Employment 20 III An Evening with Bob Hunter 26 IV At Mr. Goldwin's Office 34 V The Contest Between Herbert and Felix 41 VI A Ray of Sunshine 50 VII Bob Hunter Thoroughly Aroused 57 VIII Felix Mortimer at the Bank 65 IX Bob Assumes a Disguise 75 X Something About Herbert Randolph 83 XI Imprisoned at the Fence 87 XII Bob's Brilliant Move 94 XIII A Terrible Fear 102 XIV Bob Outwits the Old Fence 108 XV Bob and Herbert Meet 113 XVI The Old Fence in a Trap 120 XVII Bob Goes for an Officer 126 XVIII Tom Flannery is Hungry 133 XIX The Rivals at the Bank 138 XX Felix Mortimer Discomfited 142 XXI Two Young Capitalists 154 XXII The Great Banquet 161 XXIII Bob Hunter's Ambition 178 XXIV A Visit to the Banker's House 182 XXV Tom Flannery's Sickness 191 XXVI A Crash in Wall Street 196 XXVII Dark Days 201 XXVIII In Business for Himself 210 XXIX Tom Flannery's Funeral 218 XXX In a New Home 224 XXXI The Boy Broker 228 XXXII The Conspirators' Fate 233 XXXIII A Glimpse at the Future 236

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

 _Herbert Randolph emerges from the cellar in which he has been kept a prisoner_, _Frontispiece_. 

 _The Great City_, _Page_ 10

 _"You evidently know all about propriety, so here is my hand, " said Herbert_, " 13

 _Herbert Randolph in the Post Office_, " 17

 _Memories of country life--The greeting by the way_, " 23

 _The benevolent old gentleman presses money on the country boy_, " 27

 _The country boy finds a well filled pocket book_, " 29

 _The country boy to the rescue_, " 31

 _At the Boss Tweed Restaurant_, " 33

 _A Glimpse of Wall Street_, " 35

 _Herbert Randolph finds himself among a mob of rival applicants_, " 37

 _Gunwagner and Felix agree upon a plan_, " 48

 _Young Randolph handed Ray into the carriage with just enough embarrassment in his manner to interest her_, " 51

 _Bob Hunter, alone in his room, wonders what has become of his new friend_, " 59

 _Tom Flannery_, " 64

 _Bob Hunter speaks up for Herbert_, " 71

 _Bob Hunter plays the detective_, " 77

 _A surprise for Felix Mortimer_, " 85

 _Young Randolph at last falls asleep exhausted_, " 92

 _Suddenly realizing his horrible situation, Herbert sprang upon the bench with a pitiful cry of terror_, " 105

 _Gunwagner pursuing the boys_, " 111

 _Gunwagner bursts into the room in a furious mood_, " 121

 _Gunwagner in the hands of the police_, " 130

 _Young Randolph and Bob Hunter confront Felix Mortimer and charge him with his villainy_, " 147

 _"Tom, " said Bob, "here's a five for you. "_ " 155

 _The great banquet_, " 163

 _Bob and Tom coming out of the bank_, " 179

 _Herbert's first visit to the banker's house_, " 185

 _"You embarrass me, " said Herbert, blushing_, " 187

 _Tom Flannery in delirium_, " 194

 _Young Randolph again in the ranks of the unemployed_, " 200

 _Herbert Randolph shoveling snow_, " 203

 _Herbert Randolph working on the hoist_, " 206

 _Tom Flannery's deathbed_, " 216

 _Tom Flannery's funeral_, " 221

 _Ray reading to Mrs. Flannery_, " 222

 _Mrs. Flannery and the two boys in their new home_, " 225

 _Gunwagner in prison_, " 234

 _Bob Hunter, the student and young business man_, " 239

 * * * * *

[Illustration: THE GREAT CITY. ]

THE BOY BROKER. 

CHAPTER I. 

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE GREAT CITY. 

"Give me the best morning paper you have, please. "

"The _Tribune_ costs the most, if that is the one you want. "

"The price will be no objection providing the paper contains what Iwish to find. "

"You want work, I s'pose. "

"Yes, I am looking for employment. "

"I knew it--just in from the country too, " said the newsboy, comically. "Well, what you want is the _Herald_ or _World_. They are just loadedwith wants. "

"Thank you, you may give me both. "

"Both! Whew, you must be well fixed!" replied the young metropolitan, handing over the papers, as he regarded his new customer curiously. 

"What does that mean?" asked the latter, seriously. 

"You don't know what well fixed means? You must have come from way back!Why it means--it means that you're solid, that you've got the stuff, don't you see?"

"I'm solid enough for a boy of my age, if that is the idea, " repliedthe lad from the country, rather sharply, as a tinge of color rose tohis cheeks. 

"Shucks! That ain't the idea at all, " said the street boy, in a tonethat seemed apologetic. "What I mean is that you're a kind of boodlealderman--you're rich. Do you see now?"

"Oh! That's it. Well, you see, I didn't know what you meant. I neverheard those terms up in Vermont. No; I'm not rich, but on the contraryhave so little money that I must commence work at once. "

"And that is why you bought two papers, so you can take in the wholebusiness. You've got a big head, Vermont, any way, and would do stunnin'on mornin' papers. "

"Thank you. Do you mean at selling them?"

"Yes, of course. You wouldn't give 'em away, would you?"

"Well, no, I should not be inclined to do so. "

"That sounds more like it. Perhaps I'll give you a job, if you can'tfind anything else. "

"Thank you, I may be very glad to get a chance to sell papers even. "

"'Tain't a bad business anyhow. Me and lots of fellers makes plenty ofmoney at it. But I s'pose you're hungry, hain't you? If you be I'll takeyou round to a boss place and it won't cost nothin' hardly. "

"I am very much obliged to you, but I had my breakfast soon afterleaving the boat. "

"And I bet they done you up on the price. I tell you what it is, ittakes a fellow a good while to learn to live in this city. You don'tknow nothin' about what it costs. Why I know a plenty of boys that spendmore--yes, I'd say so, twice as much as what I do, and they don't throwno style into their livin' either. You see they don't know how andhain't got no taste, any way. But I like your looks, Vermont, and ef youwant any points--and you're liable to want 'em in this city, I'll betyou--why you just call on me and I'll fix you out in big shape. "

[Illustration: "YOU EVIDENTLY KNOW ALL ABOUT PROPRIETY, SO HERE IS MYHAND, " SAID HERBERT. ]

"Thank you, sincerely, " said the Green Mountain lad, a broad smileplaying over his fine face, as he regarded the drollery of his newacquaintance. "I shall need many suggestions, no doubt, for I feelalmost lost in this great city. I had no idea it was so large. I wasnever here before, and do not know where to go for a room or meals. "

"So I thought, and that's why I offered to put you into the right track. My name is Bob Hunter--I hain't got no business cards yet, but all theboys knows me, and my place of business is right round here in City HallPark. You'll find me here 'most any time durin' business hours. "

"Bob Hunter! Well, you may be sure I shall remember your name and placeof business, for I want to see you again. But what are your businesshours?"

"Oh, yes; I forgot that. Everybody must have business hours, of course. Well, say from five to ten in the mornin', and three to eight in theafternoon, you can find me in. "

"In! You mean _out_, don't you--out here?"

"Shucks! don't be so schoolmastery. Everybody in business says _in_. Iguess I know what's proper!"

"All right, Bob Hunter, I'll give it up. You know all about propriety inNew York, and I know nothing of it, so here is my hand. I'll say good bytill tonight, when I will call upon you again. I must look over thesepapers now, and hunt for a situation. "

"I hope you'll have luck, and get a bang up place. I'll be _in_ when youcall tonight; and if you hain't no objections, I'd like to know yourname. It would be more handy to do business, you see. How could myclerks announce you so I'd know you, if I don't know your name? You see, I might think it was some one that wanted to collect a bill, " continuedBob, dryly, "and I'd be _out_. Don't you see how it's done? I'd justtell my clerks to say 'Mr. Hunter is not in;' so, you see, you would getleft. Why, business men do it every day!"

"My name is Herbert Randolph, " replied the other, laughing heartily athis comical friend--I say friend, for he already felt convinced that hehad found one in Bob Hunter. 

"Herbert Randolph! that's a tony name--some old fellow I read about inschool was called Randolph; most likely he was some of your relations. "

The day was too cold for him to remain out in the park and read; soHerbert, acting on the advice of Bob Hunter, hurried to the greatgranite post office, and there, in the rotunda, ran his eye over the"wants" in his two papers. 

Many columns of closely printed matter in each paper offering everyconceivable position were spread out before him--a bewildering displayof flattering prospects. 

Young Randolph soon learned that if he stopped to read everyadvertisement in both journals it would be very late in the day beforehe could apply for any position. But should he only read a few of thewants he might fail to notice the best openings. This was a misfortune, for he was ambitious to get the right position--the position that wouldenable him to advance the fastest; and like all inexperienced boys, hehoped and even expected he might get it the very first time trying. 

He had already marked a dozen or two advertised situations which, itseemed to him, would do very well, in fact were quite desirable, but ofcourse they were the high priced positions which would naturally be mostsought after by thousands of other applicants--rivals whom the youngVermonter did not take into consideration. He saw before him a demandfor four or five thousand people to help move the wheels of commerce. He knew of course that he could only _accept_ one position, so he wasdesirous that that one should be the best. 

Any smart boy would feel as he did in this respect. 

Some boys would even be so thoughtful of the interest of others as tofeel sad that the four thousand nine hundred and ninety nine employersshould be deprived of their services. 

But young Randolph was more selfish. He had come here from the countrywith buoyant hopes and splendid courage. He proposed to make his way inNew York--to become what is known as a successful man, to make a namefor himself--a name that would extend to his native State and make hisparents proud of their brilliant son. 

Feeling thus, how natural it was that he should linger over theattractive columns much longer than was wise. Yet he did not thinkof this, or at least he did not give it any serious consideration, forwere there not a vast number of positions to be filled? The questionthen was not whether he could get anything to do, but rather which onehe should accept. When talking with young Bob Hunter, the newsboy, hehad intimated that he might be glad even to get a chance to sell papers;but it must be remembered that he had not at that time seen a New Yorkpaper, and knew nothing of the tremendous demand for help. 

Such a proposition from Bob now, however, would doubtless have beenscorned, notwithstanding Herbert's usual good sense. And such scornwould have been very natural under the circumstances. Selling papers isan employment vastly inferior to clerking, to book keeping, to banking, to writing insurance policies, all of which positions were now open tohim, as he supposed, else why should they be advertised? And why couldnot he fill them--any one of them? He was honest, ambitious, willing towork hard, wrote a splendid hand, had had some experience in clerking ina country store, and, best of all, he knew he would be faithful to hisemployer--all excellent qualifications in a general way--qualificationsthat probably seemed to him irresistible. Then, too, might he not lenda degree of intelligence, of thought to the business that would behelpful? This was a point that did not occur to him at first--not tillhis mind became inspired with the subject; but now the idea seemed tohim a good one, and he wondered that he had not thought of it before. Atany rate, he decided not to lose sight of it again, for he knew--hiscommon sense told him, and he had read also, that the men who movethings in this world are men of brains--men who _think_, who lend ideasto business, to inventions, to anything and everything with which theyhave to deal. 

[Illustration: HERBERT RANDOLPH IN THE POST OFFICE. ]

Thus another complication was added, for now he must consider indetermining if the position he accepted would give him the widest scopefor thought, and the broadest play for genius, ideas, originality andenterprise. His imagination ran fast. He was dead to the busy scenesabout him. Great questions pressed home upon him for decision, and hedid not decide quickly and without thought, as a light headed boy wouldhave done. No, he pondered long and hard over the subject which meantso much to him, and perhaps to the entire commerce of the city and eventhe finances of the nation. What might not grow out of his start inlife--the start of a thoughtful, industrious, original man? Howimportant, then, that it should be a right start! What might not come ofa false venture? How the possibilities of the future might be dwarfed bysuch a move!

These were momentous questions for this young ambitious boy to solve. Hegrappled with them bravely, and with flushed cheeks and dilated eyesknitted his brows and thought. He thought hard, thought as one with theresponsibilities of a nation resting upon him--this young untried, untrained boy from old Vermont. 

"No, I will not take it, " he broke out suddenly and with strikingdetermination in his face. "Simply because I write a good hand theywould keep me writing policies all the time, and then I believe theinsurance business is run like a big machine. No, I do not want it andwill not take it, for I am not going to make a mistake this time. I wantto show the folks down home who said I would make a failure here thatthey didn't _know me_--they counted on the wrong man. No, insurance isgood enough for any one without ambition or ideas, who always wants tobe a clerk, but I'm not that kind of a man. "

He was actually calling himself a man now. 

"But I think mercantile business or manufacturing or banking would dofor me and would be suited to me. I wonder which is the best! Mercantilebusiness gives one a good chance to show what he is made of. A man withideas ought to succeed in it; that is, if he is pushing and has plentyof originality. A. T. Stewart, what a fortune he made! He was original, he did things in a new way, advertised differently, got up new ideas, and pushed his business with close attention. He started without anymoney. I have no money. He was a hard worker, a thinker, an originator, a pusher. Why shouldn't I be a hard worker, a thinker, an originator anda pusher? I think I will. But these qualifications will win just as wellin the manufacturing and banking business as in mercantile pursuits, andif I have them I shall succeed anywhere. I wonder why those people inVermont thought I would not succeed here. I wish they could see thechances I have. 

"Well, I do not think I'll take to manufacturing, though here are adozen or so first class situations in that line. I might like it wellenough, but I believe banking would suit me better--that is, banking orthe mercantile business, and I don't care much which. Of course bankingwill be easier at first than clerking, so I should have more timefor thought and study--time to get right down to the science of thebusiness. Yes, I believe I'll try banking. Here are four banks that wanta young man. I'll take a look at each, for I want the best one. "

Thus young Randolph reasoned, feeling no uneasiness about procuringa situation, though he had wasted in building foolish air castles somuch valuable time that he had really almost no chance of obtaining asituation of any kind that day. This he learned to his sorrow a littlelater, when he commenced in earnest the very difficult undertaking ofgetting employment in a great city. 

CHAPTER II. 

AN EFFORT TO OBTAIN EMPLOYMENT. 

What a common occurrence it is for people to do foolish things. Howoften we see a man of education and broad influence--a hard headed manof sense, who has made his own way against stubborn opposition, andaccumulated great wealth--how often, I say, we see such a man exhibita degree of simplicity in money making or some other matter that wouldseem weak in an untutored boy. When he already has more money than heknows what to do with, he will perhaps hazard all on some wild catspeculation, and in a very little while find himself penniless andunable to furnish support for his family. Again he becomes the victim ofa confidence game, and only learns how he has been played with when hehas lost perhaps fifty thousand dollars by the unscrupulous sharperswith whom he has been dealing. 

Such exhibitions of weakness in men to whom the community looks for anexample are always surprising, always painful; but they teach us theimportant fact that human nature is easily influenced, easily molded, easily led this way or that when the proper influences are brought tobear upon it. 

It is not so strange, then, that young Herbert Randolph, fresh fromthe country and as ignorant of the city as a native African, shouldhave become dazzled by the flattering prospects spread out before him. What a busy city New York seemed to him when he landed from the boatin the early morning! Everything was bustle and activity. People werehurrying along the streets as he had never seen them move in his quietcountry town. No idlers were about. Men and boys alike were full ofbusiness--they showed it in their faces, their every movement. Thesefacts impressed the young country lad far more than the tall buildingsand fine streets. His own active nature bounded with admirationat the life and dash on every hand. He had been reared among sleepypeople--people in a rut, whose blood flowed as slowly as the sluggishcurrent upon which they floated towards their final destiny. 

But young Randolph was not of their class. He had inherited anactive mind, and an ambition that made him chafe at his inharmonioussurroundings at home. The very atmosphere, therefore, of this greatcity, laden with the hum of activity, was stimulating and evenintoxicating to his boundless ambition. He had been a great reader. Biography had been his favorite pastime. He knew the struggles andtriumphs of many of our most conspicuous merchant princes. Not a fewfamiliar names, displayed on great buildings which towered over the topsof their smaller neighbors, greeted his eyes as he approached the cityby boat, and passed through the streets after landing. These sights werefood for his imagination. He compared himself, his qualifications, hispoverty, and his opportunities for advancement in this world of activitywith the advent into New York of the men he had taken as models for hisown career. There was in a general way a striking likeness between thetwo pictures as he viewed them. Their struggles had been so long andfierce that it seemed to him they must have been made of iron to finallywin the fight. 

Yet these very difficulties lent attractiveness to the picture. Theymade heroes of his models, whose example he burned with enthusiasm tofollow. Thus it will be seen that in the early morning he expected tomeet bitter discouragements, to encounter poverty in its most depressingform, and to meet rebuffs on the right hand and on the left. He expectedall this. He rather craved it from the sentimental, heroic standpoint, because the men he had chosen to follow had been compelled to forcetheir way through a similar opposition. 

From this view of the boy it is plain that he was sincere in thankingyoung Bob Hunter, a little later, for the newsboy's generous offer totake him into the paper trade. But a little later still, when he entersthe post office and becomes intoxicated with the sudden, the unexpected, the overwhelming opportunities displayed before him--the urgent demands, even, for his services in helping to push forward the commerce of thisvast city, he presents himself in an entirely new light. His head hasbeen turned. He has lost sight of the early struggles of his heroes, and now revels in the brilliant pictures drawn by his imagination. Howflattering to himself are these airy, short lived fabrics, and how sweetto his young ambition!

Had young Randolph been an ordinary boy of slow intellect, he wouldnever have indulged in these beautiful dreams, which to the stupid mindwould seem silly and absurd, but to him were living realities--creationsto beckon him on, to encourage him in the hours of danger and to sustainhim in the stern battle before him. 

Did he then waste his time in what would seem wild imagination, whena more practically minded boy would have been applying for work? Yes, in the smaller sense, he idled his time away; but in the broader, hebuilded better than he knew. To be sure, he had lost the opportunity ofsecuring a situation on that day--and he needed work urgently--but hehad fixed upon _an ideal_--a standard of his own, to be the goal of allhis efforts and struggles. And such an ideal was priceless to him. Itwould prove priceless to any boy, for without lofty aims no young mancan ever hope to occupy a high position in life. 

[Illustration: MEMORIES OF COUNTRY LIFE--THE GREETING BY THE WAY. ]

Of course he appears foolish in forgetting what he had anticipated, namely the difficulties he would in all probability experience infinding a situation, but the fact that five thousand positions wereoffered to him who knew nothing of the tremendous demand for suchsituations entirely deluded him. Once forgetting this important point, his mind ran on and on, growing bolder and bolder as thought spedforward unrestrained in wild, hilarious delight. 

What pleasure in that half hour's thought--sweet, pure, intoxicatingpleasure, finer and more delicate than any real scene in life can everafford. 

But everything has a price, and that price must many times be paid inadvance. Those delightful moments passed in thinking out for himself agrand career cost young Randolph far more than he felt he could affordto pay. They cost him the opportunity of securing a position on thatday, and made him sick at his own ignorance and folly. He felt ashamedof himself and disgusted at his stupidity, as he walked block afterblock with tired feet and heavy heart, after being coldly turned awayfrom dozens of business houses with no encouragement whatever. Hewent from banking to mercantile pursuits, then to insurance, tomanufacturing, and so on down, grade after grade, till he would havebeen glad to get any sort of position at honest labor. But none wasoffered to him and he found no opening of any sort. 

Night was coming on. He was tired and hungry. His spirits ran low. Inthe post office in the early part of the day they soared to unusualheight, and now they were correspondingly depressed. What should he donext? Where should he spend the night? These questions pressed him foran answer. He thought of Bob Hunter, and his cheeks flushed with shame. He would not have the newsboy know how foolish he had been to waste histime in silly speculation. He knew the young New Yorker would questionhim, and he would have to hide the real cause of his failure, should hejoin his friend. He was fast nearing Bob's place of business, and hedecided to stop for a few moments' reflection, and to rest his wearylimbs as well. Accordingly he stepped to the inner side of the flaggingand rested against the massive stone base of the Astor House. 

Looking to his right Broadway extended down to the Battery, and to hisleft it stretched far away northward. Up this famous thoroughfare amighty stream of humanity flowed homeward. Young Randolph watched thescene with much interest, forgetting for a time his own heavy heart. Soon, however, the question what to do with himself pressed him againfor an answer. How entirely alone he felt! Of all the thousands ofpeople passing by him, not one with a familiar face. Every one seemedabsorbed in himself, and took no more notice of our country lad than ifhe had been a portion of the cold inanimate granite against which hestood. Herbert felt this keenly, for in the country it was so different. There every one had a kind look or a pleasant word for a fellow man tocheer him on his way. 

CHAPTER III. 

AN EVENING WITH BOB HUNTER. 

Chilly from approaching night and strengthening wind, and depressed by adisheartening sense of loneliness and a keen realization of failure onthe first day of his new career, Herbert felt homesick and almostdiscouraged. 

At length he joined the passers by, and walked quickly until oppositeCity Hall Park. He crossed Broadway and soon found himself at young BobHunter's "place of business. " The latter was "in, " and very glad heseemed to see his new friend again. His kindly grasp of the handand hearty welcome acted like magic upon Herbert Randolph; but hiswretchedly disheartened look did not change in time to escape the keenyoung newsboy's notice. 

"Didn't strike it rich today, did you?" said he, with a smile. 

"No, " replied Herbert sadly. 

"Didn't find no benevolent old gentleman--them as is always looking forpoor boys to help along and give 'em money and a bang up time?"

"I did not see any such philanthropist looking for me, " answeredHerbert, slightly puzzled, for the newsboy's face was seriousnessitself. 

"Well, that is all fired strange. I don't see how he missed you, forthey takes right to country boys. "

"I did not start out very early, " remarked Herbert doubtfully, and withheightened color. 

"Then that's how it happened, I guess, " said Bob, with a very thoughtfulair. "But you must have found somebody's pocket book----"

"What do you mean?" interrupted Herbert suspiciously. 

"Mean--why what could I mean? Wasn't it plain what I said? Wasn't Ispeaking good English, I'd like to know?" said Bob, apparently injured. 

"Your language was plain, to be sure, and your English was good enough, "apologized Herbert; "but I can't see why I should find anybody's pocketbook. "

[Illustration: THE BENEVOLENT OLD GENTLEMAN PRESSES MONEY ON THE COUNTRYBOY. ]

"Jest what I thought, but you see you don't know the ways of New York. You will learn, though, and you will be surprised to see how easy it isto pick up a pocket book full of greenbacks and bonds--perhaps a hundredthousand dollars in any one of 'em--and then you will take it to the manwhat lost it, and he will give you a lots of money, maby a thousanddollars or so--'twouldn't be much of a man as would do less than athousand. What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think. I cannot understand you, Bob Hunter. "

"That's 'cause you don't know me, and ain't posted on what I'm saying. Maby I am springin' it on you kinder fresh for the first day, though Iguess you will stand it. But tell me, Vermont, about the runaway horsethat you stopped. "

"The runaway horse that I stopped!" exclaimed Herbert. "You must be madto talk in this way. "

"Mad! Well, that's good; that's the best thing I've heard of yet! Do Ilook like a fellow that's mad?" and he laughed convulsively, much to thecountry lad's annoyance. 

"No, you do not look as if you were mad, but you certainly act as if youwere, " replied the latter sharply. 

"Now look a here, Vermont, this won't do, " said Bob, very serious again. "You are jest tryin' to fool me, but you can't do it, Vermont, I'll tellyou that straight. Of course I don't blame you for wantin' to be kindermodest about it, for I s'pose it seems to you like puttin' on airs toadmit you saved their lives. But then 'tain't puttin' on no airs at all. Ef I was you I'd be proud to own it; other boys always owns it, and theydon't show no modesty about it the same as what you do, either. And Idon't know why they should, for it's something to be proud of; and youknow, Vermont, the funniest thing about it is that them runaways isalways stopped by boys from the country jest like you. Don't ask me whyit happens so, for I don't know myself; but all the books will tell youthat it is so. And jest think, Vermont, how many lives they save! Youknow the coachman gets paralyzed, and the horses runs away and hetumbles off his box, and a rich lady and her daughter--they are alwaysrich, and the daughter is always in the carriage, too--funny, ain't it, but it's as true as I'm alive; and the boy rushes at the horses whenthey are going like a cyclone, and stops 'em jest as the carriage isgoing to be dashed to pieces. And then the lady cries and throws herarms round the boy, and kisses him, and puts a hundred dollars in hishands, and he refuses it. Then the lady and her daughter ask him to comeup to their house, and the next day her husband gets a bang up positionfor him, where he can make any amount of money. 

"Now I call that somethin' to be proud of, as I said before, and I don'tsee no sense in your tryin' to seem ignorant about it. Why, I wouldn'tbe surprised a bit ef you would try to make out that you wasn't anearany fire today. But that wouldn't do, Vermont--I'll give you a pointeron that now, so you won't attempt no such tomfoolery with me, for no boylike you ever comes into a town like New York is and don't save somebodyfrom burning up--rescue 'em from a tall building when nobody else canget to 'em. And of course for doing this they get pushed right aheadinto something fine, while us city fellows have to shin around livelyfor a livin'. 

[Illustration: THE COUNTRY BOY FINDS A WELL FILLED POCKET BOOK. ]

"I don't know ef you saved anybody from drowning or not; I won't saythat you did, but ef you didn't you ain't in luck, that's all I've gotto say about it. So you see 'tain't much use for you to try to deceiveme, Vermont, for I know jest what's a fair day's work for a boy from thecountry--jest what's expected of him on his first day here. Why, ef youdon't believe me (and I know you don't by the way you look), jest getall the books that tells about country boys coming to New York, and readwhat they say, that's all I ask of you, Vermont. Now come, own up andtell it straight. "

"Bob, you are altogether too funny, " laughed Herbert, now that the driftof his friend's seemingly crazy remarks was plain to him. "How can youmanage to joke so seriously, and why do you make fun of me? Because I amfrom the country, I suppose. "

"I hope I didn't hurt your feelings, Vermont, " replied Bob, enjoyinggreatly his own good natured satire. 

"No, not at all, Bob Hunter, but until I saw your joke I thought surelyyou were insane. "

"Well, you see, I thought you needed something to kinder knock the bluesthat you brought back with you tonight--'tain't much fun to have 'em, isit? Sometimes I get 'em myself, so I know what they're like. But now tobe honest, and not fool no more, didn't you get no show today?"

"No, not the least bit of encouragement, " replied Herbert. 

"And you kept up the hunt all day?"

"Yes. "

"I ought ter told you that that warn't no use. "

"How is that?"

"Why, don't you see, it's the first fellers what gets the jobs--them asgets round early. "

"And are there so many applicants for every position?"

"Are there? Well, you jest bet there are. I've seen more'n two hundredboys after a place, and 'twan't nothin' extra of a place, either. "

"But then there are thousands of places to be filled. Why, the paperswere full of them. "

"Yes, and there is a good many more thousands what wants them same jobs. You never thought of that, I guess. "

Herbert admitted with flushed cheeks that he had not given that factproper consideration. 

"Well, you done well, any way, to hang on so long, " said Bob, in his offhand, comical manner. "I expected you'd get sick before this time, andsteer straight for Vermont. "

"Why did you think that?"

[Illustration: THE COUNTRY BOY TO THE RESCUE. ]

"Well, most of the country boys think they can pick up money on thestreets in New York; but when they get here, and begin to hunt for it, they tumble rather spry--I mean they find they've been took in, and thata fellow has got to work harder, yes, I'd say so, ten times harder, here'n he does on a farm. There he can just sleep and laze round in thesun, and go in swimmin', and all the time the stuff is just growin' andwhoopin' her right along, like as if I was boss of a dozen boys, andthey was all sellin' papers and I was makin' a profit on 'em all, andwasn't doin' nothin' myself. So when these fellers find out they've gotto knuckle down and shine shoes, why they just light out kinder lively, and make up their minds that New York ain't much of a town no how. "

"And so you thought I would 'light out' too, " laughed Herbert. 

"Well, I didn't know. I told you I liked your looks, but I hain't muchfaith in nobody till I know what kind of stuff a feller is made of. Butif he's got any sand in him, then I'll bet on his winning right herein New York, and he won't have to go back home for his bread. Well, speakin' of bread reminds me that it's about time to eat something andI'm all fired hungry, and you look es ef 'twould do you good to get alittle somethin' warm in your stomach. Funny, ain't it, we can't donothin' without eatin'? But we can't, so let's eat. Business is aboutover, and I don't mind leavin' a little early, any way. "

Herbert assented gladly to this proposition, and presently Bob tookhim up Chatham Street to an eating house known as the "Boss TweedRestaurant"--a restaurant the cheapness of which recommended it, fivecents being the established price for a meal. 

"I s'pose you hain't made no plans for a place to sleep yet?" said thenewsboy, while eating their frugal fare. 

"No, " replied Herbert. "I thought I would wait and see you before makingany move in that direction. You are the only one I know in the city. "

"And 'tain't much you know about me. "

"Very true; but from your appearance I'm satisfied to trust myself withyou. "

"You're takin' big chances ef you do, " replied Bob, happily; "but ef youwant to take the resk, why we will jest look up a room and occupy ittogether. I kinder think I'd like the scheme. I've been sleepin' at theNewsboys' Lodging House, but I'm tired of it. What do you say?"

"I say yes, " replied Herbert. He was only too glad of the chance, andliked the idea of having Bob Hunter for a room mate. He thought therewould be something fascinating about living with a newsboy, and learningthis phase of life in a great city, especially when the newsboy was sodroll as Bob Hunter had already shown himself to be. 

[Illustration: AT THE BOSS TWEED RESTAURANT. ]

"All right, then, it's a go, " replied Bob, greatly pleased. 

When the meal had been finished they continued up Chatham Street intothe Bowery, and then turned into a side street where inexpensive roomswere offered for rent. After a little hunting they found one at a costof one dollar a week which proved satisfactory. They immediately tookpossession, and went to bed very early, as Herbert was practically wornout. 

CHAPTER IV. 

AT MR. GOLDWIN'S OFFICE. 

On the following morning both boys rose early and breakfasted together. Then Bob hurried away to his paper trade, and Herbert applied himselfdiligently to reading the "wants. " The following advertisementespecially attracted his attention:

 WANTED, a bright, smart American boy of about sixteen years of age; must have good education, good character, and be willing to work. Salary small, but faithful services will be rewarded with advancement. RICHARD GOLDWIN, Banker and Broker, Wall Street. 

"I think I can fill those requirements, " said young Randolph to himself, thoughtfully. "For all I can see, I am as likely to be accepted by abanker as a baker or any one else in want of help. There will doubtlessbe a lot of applicants for the position, and so there would if thedemand was for street cleaning, therefore I think I may as well take mychances with the bank as at anything else. "

Having come to this conclusion, he talked the matter over with BobHunter, upon whose practical sense Herbert was beginning to place a highvalue. The shrewd young newsboy approved of the plan, so our country ladstarted early for Wall Street, where the great money kings are popularlysupposed to hold high carnival, and do all sorts of extraordinarythings. When he arrived, however, at Richard Goldwin's banking house, his hopes sank very low, for before him was a long line of perhaps fortyor fifty boys, each of whom had come there hoping to secure theadvertised position. 

This crowd of young Americans comprised various grades of boys. Somewere stupid, others intelligent; a few were quiet and orderly, but themajority were boisterous and rough. Squabbling was active, and tauntsand jeers were so numerous, that a strange boy from a quiet country homewould have hardly dared to join this motley crowd, unless he waspossessed of rare courage and determination. 

[Illustration: A GLIMPSE OF WALL STREET. ]

Herbert Randolph paused for a moment when he had passed through theouter door, and beheld the spectacle before him. He wondered if he hadmade a mistake and entered the wrong place; but before he had time tosettle this question in his own mind, one of the boys before him, whowas taller and more uncivil than those about him, and seemed to be aleader among them, shouted, derisively:

"Here's a new candidate--right from the barnyard too!"

All turned their attention at once to the object of the speaker'sridicule, and joined him in such remarks as "potato bug, " "country, ""corn fed, " "greeny, " "boots, " and all the time they howled and jeeredat the boy from the farm most unmercifully. 

"You think you'll carry off this position, maybe, " said the leader, sarcastically. "You'd better go home and raise cabbage or punkins!"

Again the crowd exploded with laughter, and as many mean things as couldbe thought of were said. Herbert made no reply, but instead of turningback and running away from such a crowd, as most boys would have done, he stepped forward boldly, and took his place in the line with others toawait the arrival of the banker. 

His face was flushed, and he showed plainly his indignation at theinsolent remarks made to him. Nevertheless, this very abuse stimulatedhis determination to such a degree, that he was now the last boy in theworld to be driven away by the insults and bullying of those about him. 

His defiance was so bold, and his manner was so firm and independent, that he at once commanded the respect of the majority of the long lineof applicants, though all wished he were out of the way; for they saw inhim a dangerous rival for the position they sought. 

A notable exception, however, to those who shared this better feeling, was the boy whom I have spoken of as the "leader, " for such he seemed tobe. He was no ordinary boy, this bright, keen, New York lad, with a formof rare build, tall and straight as a young Indian. He showed in everymovement, and in the manner of his speech, that his character was apositive one, and that nature had endowed him with the qualities of aleader. 

[Illustration: HERBERT RANDOLPH FINDS HIMSELF AMONG A MOB OF RIVALAPPLICANTS. ]

These gifts he now exercised with remarkable effect upon the rawmaterial about him, if by such a term I may characterize the peculiarlymixed crowd of boys in line. 

When, however, Herbert Randolph advanced to his position with suchunmistakable determination in his manner, and with firmness sodistinctly showing in every muscle of his face, our young leadertrembled visibly for an instant, and then the hot blood mantling hischeeks betrayed his anger. 

He had endeavored to drive away the young Vermonter by jeers andbullying, but he failed in this attempt. In him he found his match--aboy quite equal to himself in determination, in the elegance of hisfigure and the superiority of his intellect. 

The country boy lacked, however, the polish and grace of the city, andthat ease and assurance that comes from association with people in largetowns. But the purity of his character, a character as solid as thegranite hills of his native State, was of infinitely more value to himthan was all the freedom of city manner to the New York lad. 

These two boys were no ordinary youths. Each of them possessed apositive and determined character. The one was bold as the other, and inintellect and the commanding qualities of their minds they were giantsamong boys. 

The others felt this now in the case of both, as they had but a fewmoments before felt it regarding the one. They realized their owninferiority. The jeering and bullying ceased, and all was quiet, savethe slam of the door, as new applicants now and then dropped in andjoined the line. The silence became painful as the two prominent figureseyed each other. Herbert knew better than to make the first move. Hewaited the action of his rival, ready to defend his position. 

The strange and sudden quiet of all the boys, who had but a few momentsbefore been so noisy and insulting, gave him renewed courage. He saw, to his great relief, that he had but one mind to contend with--but oneenemy to overcome. In this one's face, however, was pictured a degree ofcunning and anger that he had never seen before in all his simple life. 

The evil designs in the face of the city boy momentarily became morenoticeable. Why had he so suddenly stopped his derisive remarks? And whyshould he show his evident hatred toward our hero? Is it possible thathe dare not attack him, and that he is afraid to continue the bullyingfurther? That he feels that Herbert is his equal, and perhaps more thana match for him, seems evident; and yet he will not acknowledge himselfinferior to any one, much less to this country lad. 

"No, he _shall not_ get this situation away from me, " he saiddeterminedly to himself; and then his mind seemed bent upon some deepplot or wicked scheme. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE CONTEST BETWEEN HERBERT AND FELIX. 

Presently the inner doors of the banking house were thrown open, and agentleman of perhaps a little more than middle age stepped lightly intothe corridor, where the boys awaited his arrival. He had a kindly face, and a sharp but pleasant blue eye. 

All seemed to know intuitively that he was Richard Goldwin, the banker, and consequently each one made a dashing, but somewhat comical effort toappear to good advantage. 

"Good morning, boys, " said the banker, pleasantly, "I am glad to seeso many of you here, and I wish I was able to give each one of you aposition. I see, however, that many of you are too young for my purpose;therefore it would be useless to waste your time and mine by furtherexamination. "

In a little time the contest had narrowed down to but two, and they wereHerbert Randolph, and the boy who had so ineffectually attempted todrive him away. 

"What is your name?" asked the banker of the city lad. 

"My name is Felix Mortimer. "

"Felix Mortimer?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Mortimer, Mortimer, " repeated Mr. Goldwin. "The name sounds familiar, but I can't place it. Do you live in New York?"

"Yes, sir. "

"In what part of the city?"

"In Eleventh Street, sir--on the East Side. "

"Well, you appear like a bright boy. Are you ambitious to work your wayup in a solid, reliable business?"

"Yes, sir, I am; and banking is just what I would like. "

"And you are willing to work hard?"

"Yes, sir, I think I could satisfy you that I am. "

"What is your age?"

"I am seventeen years old. "

"Have you ever worked in any business house?"

"Yes, I have had two years' experience in business. "

"You commenced rather young--so young that I am afraid your educationwas neglected. "

"Well, I was a good scholar in school; here is a recommendation from myteacher. "

Richard Goldwin read the letter, which purported to be signed by theprincipal of a well known school. 

"This speaks well of you, " said the banker. 

Felix looked pleased, and cast a triumphant glance at Herbert, who satat a little distance off, anxiously awaiting his turn to be examined. Hewas afraid the banker might settle upon young Mortimer without eveninvestigating his own fitness for the position. 

"For what firm did you work?" asked Richard Goldwin. 

"For Wormley & Jollup, " replied Felix, firmly. 

"The large trunk manufacturers up Broadway?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Why didn't you remain with them?"

This question would have confused some boys, had they been in the placeof Felix; but it did not affect him in the slightest degree, though thekeen and practiced eye of the banker watched him closely. 

"Why, don't you remember that Wormley & Jollup had a big strike in theirfactory?"

"Yes, the papers printed a great deal about it. "

"Well, you see, they couldn't get any trunks made; so business got dullin the store. "

"They wouldn't give in to the strikers, I believe?"

"No; and the result was they had to let a lot of us go. "

"It was an unfortunate affair. But I suppose you got a recommendationfrom Wormley & Jollup?"

"Yes, sir, " said Felix, with all the assurance of one who was tellingthe truth; "there it is--signed by Mr. Jollup himself. "

The letter was highly complimentary to Felix Mortimer. 

"No one could ask for a better recommendation than this, " said thebanker, looking as if he thought he had found a prize in the boy beforehim. 

Had he suspected that this very recommendation was forged, he would havebeen angry. Now, however, he felt quite the reverse; and decided to giveHerbert a hearing more as a matter of courtesy than otherwise, for hehad practically settled upon young Mortimer for the position in hisbanking house. 

Felix saw this and could hardly restrain his happiness, as he sawpictured on the young Vermonter's face unmistakable discomfiture. 

"Well, you may be seated, " said Mr. Goldwin; "I wish to see what thisyoung man has to say for himself before engaging any one. "

"So you came from Vermont, right from the farm?" said the banker toHerbert, after a few minutes' conversation. 

"Yes, sir, " returned young Randolph. 

"And I suppose you expect to make your fortune in this city?"

"I have not got so far along as that yet, sir. I hope, however, that Ishall do well here. "

"You look like a plucky lad, and those red cheeks of yours are worth afortune. I remember well when mine were as full of rich young blood asyours are now. I was a country lad myself. "

"Then your career shows that a boy from the country may make a success. "

"Yes, that is very true. Many of our most successful men came from thefarm; but I assure you, my boy, that success is not an easy thing topick up in a big city. The chances are a hundred to one against any boywho comes here from the country. If, however, he does not succumb totemptation, and has sufficient pluck and perseverance, he can do well inthis city. "

"I am quite ready to take that hundredth chance, " said Herbert, in a waythat pleased the banker. 

"Well, I admire your courage, young man, but now to return to business. Suppose I were to give you a situation, how could you live on threedollars a week? You say you have no means, and must earn your ownliving. I cannot pay a larger salary at first. "

"I am sure I can manage that all right, sir; one can do what he mustdo. "

"That is true; your ideas are sound there, surely. What is your age?"

"I am nearly seventeen, sir. "

"You are so strongly built, perhaps you could get a place where moremoney could be paid for your services; some place where heavy work is tobe done. "

"I am not afraid of hard work, for I have always been accustomed to it;but I would much rather have a chance where there are good prospectsahead. "

"Again you are right, " said the banker, now becoming interested in theyoung Vermonter. "What is your education?"

"I passed through our district school, and went for several terms to theGreen Mountain Academy. I have taught three terms of school. "

"Three terms! You certainly must have commenced young. "

"Yes; I was not very old. I got my first school when I was fifteen. "

"Do you write a good hand? Please come to this desk, and show me whatyou can do. "

Herbert complied readily with the request, and was most happy to do so, for he had spent many hours in practicing penmanship, and now wrote abeautiful hand. 

Richard Goldwin was surprised when he took up the sheet of paper and ranhis eye over the well formed letters. 

"Mr. Mortimer, will you please show me what you can do with the pen?"said the banker. 

Felix rose to his feet, and the color rose to his face. He wasn't verypowerful with the pen, and he knew it; but another matter disconcertedhim. He feared, and well he might, that his writing would resemble, only too closely, that in the recommendation which he had shown to Mr. Goldwin. But he was equal to the emergency, and, to make the disguiseperfect, he gave to his writing the left hand or backhand stroke. Thiswas done at the expense of his penmanship, which, however, would nothave been considered absolutely bad, had it not been compared with thegracefully and perfectly cut letters of Herbert Randolph. 

The banker looked at both critically for a moment, and then, after apause, said:

"Mr. Mortimer, I would like to speak with you alone. "

The latter followed him to the outer office. 

"Your manner pleases me, young man, " said Mr. Goldwin, pleasantly, "andwith one exception I see but little choice between you two boys, butthat little is in your competitor's favor. "

The color left Felix Mortimer's face. 

"I refer, " continued the banker, "to his penmanship, which you mustacknowledge is far superior to your own; and a good handwritingadds much to one's value in an office of this sort. I see you aredisappointed, and I knew you would be. Do not, however, feeldiscouraged, as it is possible I may do something for you yet. If Mr. Randolph should prove unsatisfactory in any respect, he will not beretained permanently. You may, therefore, if you choose, run in hereagain in a day or two. "

Young Mortimer was greatly disappointed and even deeply chagrined, forhe had supposed himself more than capable of holding his own againstthis unsophisticated country lad. Had he not attempted to bully himwhile waiting for the banker and failed, thus arousing a spirit ofrivalry and hostility between young Randolph and himself, he would ofcourse have felt differently, but now an intense hatred was kindledwithin him, and with burning passion he determined upon revenge. 

Felix Mortimer went direct from Richard Goldwin's banking house tothe Bowery, and from there he soon found his way to a side street, which contained many old buildings of unattractive appearance. Theneighborhood was a disreputable one. Squalor was on every hand, andmany individuals of unsavory reputations made this locality theirheadquarters. One of these was Christopher Gunwagner, a repulsivespecimen of humanity, who had been in business here for several yearsas a "fence, " or receiver of stolen goods. 

To this fence Felix directed his steps. 

"Good morning, Mr. Gunwagner, " said young Mortimer, briskly. 

The former eyed him sharply for a moment. 

"What do you want now?" growled the fence by way of reply. "Why don'tyou bring me something, as you ought to?"

Felix cut him short, and at once proceeded to business. 

"I came, " said he, "to get you to help me and thereby help yourself. I've got a chance to get into a bank----"

"Into a bank?" interrupted Gunwagner, now interested. 

"Yes. "

"Where?"

"On Wall Street, in Richard Goldwin's banking house. "

"If you don't take it, you're a fool. Goldwin's, hey?" he went on; "wecan make it pay us; yes, yes, we are in luck. " And he rubbed his thinhands together greedily. 

"I expect to take it as soon as I can get it, " said Felix; and then hedescribed the competitive examination between himself and the youngVermonter. 

"So you want to get him out of the way, eh?"

"You have struck it right this time. That's just what I want, andpropose to do. "

"And you expect me to help you?"

"Certainly I do. To whom else should I go?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I haven't quite got the plan yet, and want your advice. You see if Ican get him out of the way for a few days, so he won't show up, why oldGoldwin will take me in his place. If I can once get in there, andremain till I get the run of things, we can have it our own way. "

[Illustration: GUNWAGNER AND FELIX AGREE UPON A PLAN. ]

Gunwagner's face grew more and more avaricious. The plan looked well tohim, and he felt it would be a great thing to have Mortimer in a richbanking house. The possibilities of bold pilferings from the heaps ofgold were most tempting to him, and he was now quite ready to commithimself to any feasible scheme to carry out Mortimer's evil design. Theold fence was an unscrupulous man, and he was ready to go to almost anylength in crime to avail himself of an opportunity so tempting to hisgreed of gain. 

The two confederates discussed the matter for some time, and at lengththey agreed upon a plan of action, which boded ill for our hero. 

CHAPTER VI. 

A RAY OF SUNSHINE. 

Young Randolph entered upon his duties at once, but of course did littlemore during the day than familiarize himself with the work that had beenassigned to him. Toward evening a ray of sunshine burst joyously intothe bank, and threw a bright cheerful glow over the office. 

Ray Goldwin, the light hearted, merry daughter of the senior partner, with her sunny face and winning manners, was like a clear June morning. 

Little acts go far, many times, to make one happy or quite miserable. Itso happened that our hero had been doing some writing for Mr. Goldwin'sown personal use. It lay upon his desk and was admirably done. It was, in fact, like copper plate. The whole arrangement of the work wasartistic and in the best of taste. 

"Oh, papa, who did this beautiful writing for you?" said Ray, enthusiastically. 

"Our new clerk, Mr. Randolph, " responded her father, nodding his head inthe direction of Herbert. The latter felt his cheeks grow rosy at thiscompliment. 

"Mr. Randolph, " continued the banker, "will you kindly help me takethese parcels out to my carriage?"

"Certainly, sir, with pleasure, " replied Herbert, politely. 

[Illustration: YOUNG RANDOLPH HANDED RAY INTO THE CARRIAGE WITH JUSTENOUGH EMBARRASSMENT IN HIS MANNER TO INTEREST HER. ]

Ray Goldwin looked at him with surprise; and his handsome face and fineform attracted even more than a passing glance from her. 

"I want to run up to the corner of Broadway, " said Mr. Goldwin, whenthey had reached the door. "John, you may call for me, " he continued, addressing the coachman; "I will be ready by the time you get there. "

Young Randolph handed Ray into the carriage, with just enoughembarrassment in his manner to interest her. Then he placed the parcelson the seat beside her, receiving meanwhile a smile and a look thatfully rewarded him. Raising his hat, he turned away, and as the coachmandrove off he made a hasty retreat for the bank, from which the sunshinenow seemed to have departed. 

When he started for home at the close of business hours, two figuresstood on the opposite side of the street, a little nearer Broadway. 

As Herbert opened the outer door, preparatory to passing out, he tooka position that brought his eyes directly upon them. One of them, uneasily, but perhaps quite naturally, placed a hand on the shoulderof his companion, while with the other he pointed directly at Herbert. Then, as if realizing that possibly he had been detected in this act, he nervously pointed to something on the top of the building, and allthe while talked rapidly. This was sufficient to arrest our hero'sattention. He watched the two sharply for a few minutes while standingupon the steps of the banking house. 

Under his direct gaze they appeared somewhat nervous, and finally movedoff in the direction of Broadway. Herbert followed them, or ratherfollowed out his purpose to go up to City Hall Park, and find, ifpossible, Bob Hunter. Before reaching Broadway, however, the two youngfellows who had pointed at him stopped and peered into a show window, thus bringing their backs full upon Herbert as he passed them. 

He knew so little of city life that he was slow to form an opinion, thinking that what seemed odd and suspicious to him would perhaps be allright in New York. He therefore dismissed the matter from his mind, andwatched with amazement the crowds of men who at that hour of the daywere pouring up Broadway, on their way home from business. 

"What a great city this is!" he thought; "and it is American, too. Iwonder if any of the cities of the Old World can turn out such a lot ofbusiness men as these!"

The boy was right in asking himself this question. The wonder he feltwas natural, for a finer body of men can rarely be found than thebusiness men of New York. And now he joined the stream that flowednorthward. The massive buildings, tall and stately, on either side ofBroadway, captured his admiration, and he gazed upon them with openmouthed amazement. 

Stone buildings with gigantic pillars and massive walls; buildings tenor a dozen stories high, and mighty spires raising their tops afar up inmid air--all these added to the country lad's wonder and astonishment. He passed by the Western Union building, the Evening Post building, andnow paused in front of the Herald office to read the "headings" on thebulletin board. 

After being thus engaged for a few moments, he turned suddenly around, and, to his surprise, saw the two young fellows who had attracted hisattention on Wall Street. One of them had a look about him that seemedfamiliar, and yet he could not tell where he had seen him. His figure, his eyes, and the shape of his face were not unlike Felix Mortimer; andyet he looked older than the latter by two or three years, for he wore asmall mustache and tiny side whiskers. Seeing these same fellows thesecond time, and noticing that they were apparently watching him, madeHerbert feel a trifle uneasy. But he was not easily worried orfrightened. 

Bob Hunter was in, as on the previous night, and very glad he seemedat his friend's good success in getting so desirable a position. Helistened to Herbert's story of the contest with much interest, and thenadded thoughtfully:

"It might be a good idea to look out for that feller that seemed to getdown on you so. He probably knows you are a stranger in the city, and----"

"Do you think there is any danger?" interrupted Herbert. 

"No, I can't say as there is; but he might think, if he could get youout of the way, he would get the place with the banker. You said he wasdisappointed. "

"Yes, he showed his disappointment very much. "

"Well, nothing may come of it. You keep your eye on me, and I'll steeryou through all right, I reckon. "

Herbert was upon the point of telling Bob his suspicions about the twofellows that seemed to be shadowing him, and then it occurred to himthat he might magnify the matter, and work himself into a state ofuneasiness when it would be better to give it no thought whatever. Therefore he said nothing to the newsboy about them. 

When they had finished dinner a little later, Bob asked him if he couldmanage to pass away an hour or so alone. 

"Certainly, if you have an engagement, " replied Herbert. 

"I go to an evening school; but if you'll be lonesome alone, why, I'llstay with you till you learn a thing or two about the city. "

"Oh, I shall be all right, " said our hero, confidently. "Don't think ofremaining away from school on my account. I can enjoy looking at thesights here in the Bowery for a while; then I will go to the room, andread till you come. "

"All right. I'll do as you say; but now you look out, Vermont, and don'tget lost. "

Bob seemed to have a fondness for calling his friend by this name, andthe latter indulged him in the peculiarity without objection. 

After a while, young Randolph drifted up to one of the Bowery dimemuseums, and stood there for some time reading the announcements, looking at the pictures, and watching the crowd that ebbed and flowed upand down that thoroughfare. 

Presently a young fellow of about his own age, who had for some timebeen standing near him, made a casual remark about a comical lookingperson who had just passed by. Our hero looked up, and seeing that theremark had been addressed to him, he replied promptly. A conversationbetween him and the stranger followed. Herein Herbert showed thetrustfulness characteristic of a country boy. He knew he was honesthimself, and did not once suspect that the agreeable young man wasplaying the confidence game upon him. 

CHAPTER VII. 

BOB HUNTER THOROUGHLY AROUSED. 

When Bob Hunter returned from the evening school to his room, heexpected to find young Randolph there. 

"He promised to be here, " said Bob to himself; "I hope nothing hashappened to him. "

The newsboy's manner showed some alarm. He felt anxious about hisfriend. 

"Something has gone wrong, I believe, or he would surely come, "continued Bob, after waiting for a full half hour; "but I can't imaginewhat has steered him on to the wrong track. "

Another half hour went by, and Herbert did not put in an appearance. 

"I might's well stay here, I s'pose, as to go 'n' prowl round this townhuntin' for Vermont, " said Bob, thoughtfully. "But I guess I'll see if Ican strike his trail. Any way I'll feel better, 'cause I'll know I'vedone something. It's no use to let a feller like him be run into thesedens, if the game can be stopped. "

An hour's fruitless hunt, in and about the Bowery, failed to revealHerbert's whereabouts to the anxious searcher. He was unable to find anyone who remembered to have seen him. 

After giving up all hope of learning what he wished to find out, Bobhurried back to his room, with a feeling of anxiety quite new to him. Hehad taken a great liking to our hero, and now felt thoroughly alarmed, fearing that foul play had been brought to bear upon him. 

The next morning he was up bright and early, looking sharply after hispaper business, but he was not the Bob Hunter of the past. From thedrollest and funniest boy in the trade he had suddenly become the mostserious and thoughtful. 

"What's hit you this mornin', Bob?" said Tom Flannery, a companionnewsboy. 

"Why do you ask that?" returned Bob. 

"Why, you look like you'd had a fit o' sickness. "

"You're 'bout right, for I don't feel much like myself, no how. I didn'tget no sleep hardly at all, and I've worried myself thin--just seehere, " and he pulled the waistband of his trousers out till there wasnearly enough unoccupied space in the body of them to put in another boyof his size. 

He couldn't resist the opportunity for a joke, this comical lad, noteven now. The trousers had been given to him by one of his customers, aman of good size. Bob had simply shortened up the legs, so naturallythere was quite a quantity of superfluous cloth about his slim body. 

"Gewhittaker!" exclaimed Tom, "I should think you have fell off! Butsay, Bob, what's gone bad? What's done it?" continued Tom, disposed tobe serious. 

"Well, you know the boy I told you about, what's chummin' with me?"

"Yes, the one I saw you with last night, I s'pose?"

"Yes, the same one. Well, he is lost. "

"Lost!" repeated Tom, incredulously. 

[Illustration: BOB HUNTER, ALONE IN HIS ROOM, WONDERS WHAT HAS BECOME OFHIS NEW FRIEND. ]

"Yes;" and Bob acquainted him with the facts of Herbert's disappearance. "Now, what do you think of it?" he asked. 

"Looks bad, " said young Flannery, gravely. 

"So it does to me. "

"Foul play, " suggested Tom. 

"That's what I think. "

"Perhaps he has got tired of New York and has lit out. "

"No, not much. Vermont ain't no such boy. "

"Well, you know him best. Did he have any grip or anything?"

"Yes, he had a good suit and lots of other truck. "

"And they're in the room now?"

"Yes. "

"You're in luck, Bob. I'd like a chum as would slope and leave me a goodsuit. "

"Well, I wouldn't. No more would you, Tom Flannery, " said Bob, slightlyindignant. 

"I didn't mean nothin', " said Tom, apologizing for the offense which hesaw he had given. "Of course, I wouldn't want nobody to slope and leavehis truck with me. "

"That's all right then, Tom, " said Bob, forgivingly. "But now, what doyou s'pose has become of him?"

"Well, it looks like he didn't go of his own free will, when he lefteverything behind him. "

"Of course it does, and I know he didn't. "

Bob related the story of Herbert's experience at the bank, on themorning when he secured the position. 

"I don't like that duffer--what d'ye call him?"

"Felix Mortimer, " repeated Bob. "I'm sure that's the name Herbert giveme. "

"Well, I'll bet that he's put up the job. "

"I think so myself. You see he knew Randolph wasn't no city chap. "

"That's so, and he knew he'd have the drop on him. But I don't just see, after all, how he could get away with him. "

"Well, he might have run him into some den or other. "

"And drugged him?"

"Well, perhaps so. There are piles of ways them fellers have of doin'such jobs. "

"I know they're kinder slick about it sometimes. But, say, Bob, "continued Tom, earnestly, "what do you propose to do about it? He may bea prisoner. "

"So he may, and probably is, if he is alive. "

"Why, Bob, they wouldn't kill him, would they?"

"No, I don't suppose so, not if they didn't have to. "

"Why would they have to do that?" asked Tom, with his eyes bulging outwith excitement. 

"Well, sometimes folks has to do so--them hard tickets will do 'mostanything. You see, if they start in to make way with a feller, and theyare 'fraid he'll blow on 'em, and they can't make no other arrangement, why then they just fix him so he won't never blow on nobody. "

"Bob, it's awful, ain't it?" said Tom, with a shudder. 

"Yes, it is. There are a pile of tough gangs in this city that don'tcare what they do to a feller. "

"What do you s'pose they've done with your chum?" asked young Flannery, returning to the subject. 

"Well, that's just what I want to know, " said Bob, seriously. "I amgoing to try to find out, too. There are tough dens in them crossstreets running out of the Bowery. "

"They won't do worse nor keep him a prisoner, will they, Bob?"

"Probably they won't, not 'less they think he will blow on 'em. You seethey've got to look out for themselves. "

"That's so, Bob, but why couldn't they send him off somewhere so hecouldn't blow on 'em?"

"They might do that, too. "

"But they would get him so far away he couldn't get back to New Yorknever, I suppose?"

"Yes, that's the idea. They might run him off to sea, and put him on anisland, or somethin' like that. I can't say just what they might do ifthey have their own way. But the idea is this, Tom Flannery, _we muststop 'em_, " said Bob, emphatically, "you and me. We've got to find outwhere he is, and rescue him. "

"That's the boss idea, Bob, " replied Tom, with emphasis. "But I don'tsee just how we're goin' to do it, do you?"

"Well, no, I can't see the whole game, not now. But we must commence, and when we get a few points, we can slide ahead faster. "

"I wouldn't know how to commence. "

"Well, I do; I thought that all out last night, and I'm only waitingtill ten o'clock. Then I'll steer for the bank where Herbert worked. "

"Bob, you beat all the boys I know of, " said Tom, eying him withadmiration. "None of 'em would ever think of doin' the things you do, and they couldn't do 'em if they did, that's all. And now you're goin'to do the detective act!"

Tom stopped short here with a jerk, as if he had got to the end of hisrope, and took a long breath. To "do the detective act" seemed to himthe greatest possible triumph for a boy like himself. He looked upon hiscompanion, therefore, with wonder and admiration. 

Bob's plans for penetrating the mystery had, indeed, been carefullyformed. He fearlessly undertook an enterprise from which most boyswould have shrunk. This keen, bright street lad, however, was not of theshrinking kind. He did not turn away from encountering dangers, even thedangers of some dreadful den in which he feared our hero was now aprisoner. 

[Illustration: TOM FLANNERY. ]

During the forenoon he visited the banking house of Richard Goldwin andthere found Felix Mortimer already installed in Herbert's place. Thisdiscovery confirmed his worst fears and intensified his alarm for thesafety of his friend. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

FELIX MORTIMER AT THE BANK. 

"Can I see the proprietor?" said a boy addressing a clerk at the counterof Richard Goldwin's bank. It was the morning after Herbert's mysteriousdisappearance. 

"What is your name?" asked the clerk. 

"Felix Mortimer, " answered the boy. 

"Mr. Goldwin is very busy, " replied the man at the counter. 

"Very well, I will wait, " said Felix; and he seated himself in a chairin the outer office. 

In a little while Mr. Goldwin came out of his private room, and, seeingyoung Mortimer there, recognized him. 

"Good morning, young man, " said he, kindly. 

"Good morning, " returned Felix, deferentially. 

"Have you come to tell us what has become of young Randolph?" asked thebanker. 

"I don't understand you, " said Felix, innocently. "I came because youasked me to do so. "

"Yes, yes, I remember; but I referred to the disappearance of the boy Iengaged at the time you applied for the position. "

"Why, isn't he here?" asked Mortimer, feigning surprise. 

"No, he hasn't been here today. "

"What do you imagine is the trouble?"

"I do not know, unless, like so many other boys, he has got tired of thework, and has left it for some other position. "

"That may be, and now you speak of it, I remember he said, the morningwe were all waiting to see you, that if he failed to get this place hehad another position in view that he could get, and that it would payhim five dollars a week. "

Young Mortimer told this falsehood with the ease of a veteran. Hismanner could not have been more impressive had he been telling thetruth. 

"Five dollars a week!" exclaimed Mr. Goldwin. "And he came here forthree. I don't see what his motive was. "

"Perhaps he had a motive, " suggested Mortimer. 

"I don't understand you, " replied the banker. 

Felix shrugged his shoulders. 

"What do you mean? Do you know anything about him?" pursued Mr. Goldwin, his suspicions aroused. 

"No, sir--er--not much. "

"Speak up, young man. Tell me what you know about this young Vermonter. "

"Vermonter?" repeated Felix, with a rising inflection; and he smiledsuggestively. 

"Yes, Vermonter. Do you know anything to the contrary?"

"You know I was an applicant for this position, Mr. Goldwin, so I do notlike to answer your question. I hope you will excuse me. "

"I appreciate your sense of honor, young man, " said Mr. Goldwin; "but itis to my interest to know the facts. If there is anything against him, Ishould be informed of it. Tell me what you know, and you will losenothing by doing so. "

With apparent reluctance, Felix yielded to the persuasion, and said:

"I was on Broadway with a friend of mine, at the close of businesshours, the day that you hired this young fellow. We were walking alongby the Herald building when he came up Broadway and stopped to readthe news on the _Telegram_ bulletin board. I said to my friend, withsurprise, 'There is the fellow I told you about--the one that beat methis morning in getting the position at Goldwin's. ' He looked at meincredulously and said: 'Why, you told me he was a country boy--fromVermont. '

"'So he is, ' I replied. 'Stuff, ' said he. 'I know him well. That was aclever dodge to play the country act. ' I protested, but he convinced methat he was right. He is in a lawyer's office, so he has to be in courtmore or less, and he said he saw him up before Judge Duffy only a fewdays ago, charged with stealing a pocket book. The suspicion was strongagainst him, but there wasn't proof enough to fix the theft upon him. The Court came near sending him to the Island, though, for he had beenarrested twice before, so my friend said. "

"The young villain!" said the banker, when Felix had finished this blackfalsehood, which he told so glibly, and with such seeming reluctance, that Mr. Goldwin accepted it as all truth. "I am sorry I ever took himinto my office, " he continued. "I must have the bank carefully lookedover, to see if he misappropriated anything, as he very likely did. "

Felix said nothing, but seemed to look sorry for Herbert. 

"Well, " said Mr. Goldwin, after a pause, "is it too late to get you?"

"I don't know, " answered Mortimer, hesitatingly. "I would like to workfor you, but would not feel right to take the position away from thisVermonter. "

Felix laid a special stress upon the word "Vermonter. "

"Take it away from him!" replied the banker, scornfully. "He cannotenter this bank again. "

"But you see I would feel that I am the means of keeping him out of theposition. You wouldn't have known about his deception if I hadn't toldyou. "

Felix now used the word "deception" flippantly, and with no furtherapparent apology for applying it to our hero. 

"That is all right, " replied Mr. Goldwin; "I am glad to see yousensitive about injuring another. It is much to your credit that youfeel as you do about it. "

"Thank you, " was the modest reply. "Then if you think it would lookright, and you really want me, I will take the position. "

"Of course we can get hundreds and thousands of boys, but I have taken aliking to you. When can you commence?"

"I can commence this morning, if you wish me to, " said Felix. 

"Very well, I wish you would--er, that is if you feel able. I noticeyour face is swollen, and perhaps you are not feeling well. "

"Oh, that will not bother me, " replied Mortimer, coolly. "I had a toothfilled yesterday, and have got cold in my jaw. "

"You must suffer with it. It is swollen badly and looks red and angry, "said the banker sympathetically. 

"It does hurt a good deal, but will not trouble me about my work. "

"It looks as if the skin had been injured--more like a bruise, as ifyou had received a heavy blow on your jaw, " said Mr. Goldwin, examiningthe swelling more closely. 

Felix colored perceptibly, but immediately rallied, and said thepoulticing had given it that appearance. 

Could Mr. Goldwin have known the truth about this injured jaw, he wouldhave been paralyzed at the bold falsehood of the young villain beforehim. 

He had succeeded admirably in blackening our young hero's reputation. Mr. Goldwin now looked upon Herbert with ill favor, and even disgust. And this change was all caused by the cunning and falsehoods of youngMortimer. He had poisoned Mr. Goldwin's mind, and thus succeeded inestablishing himself in the banker's good opinion and securing thecoveted position. 

"Another boy wants to see you, Mr. Goldwin, " said the clerk, shortlyafter the man of finance had engaged young Mortimer. 

"You may show him in, " said the banker. 

The door opened, and Bob Hunter stepped into Mr. Goldwin's presence. Ifhe had only had a bundle of newspapers under his arm, he would have feltquite at home; but, as he had nothing of the kind, he was a trifleembarrassed. 

"What do you want here?" asked Mr. Goldwin, more sharply than was hiswont. 

"I come down, sir, to see if you can tell me anything about HerbertRandolph. "

"What do you want to know about him?"

"I want to know where he is. He hain't shown up not sence last night. "

"Was he a friend of yours?"

"Yes, sir, me and him roomed together. "

"You and he roomed together?" repeated the banker, as if he doubtedBob's word. 

"That's what I said, sir, " answered the newsboy, showing his dislike ofthe insinuation against his truthfulness. 

"I am afraid you are inclined to be stuffy, young man, " replied Mr. Goldwin. "I am unable, however, to give you the information you seek. "

"You don't know where he is, then?"

"No, I have not seen him since he left here last night. "

"Do you know why he is stayin' away?"

"Certainly I do not. "

"Done nothin' wrong. I s'pose?" queried Bob. 

"I have not fixed any wrong upon him yet. "

"Then, if he hain't done no wrong, somethin's keepin' him. "

"He may have a motive in staying away, " said the banker, becominginterested in Bob's keen manner. 

"What do you s'pose his motive is?"

"That I cannot tell. "

"Foul play, that's what I think. "

"Nonsense, boy. "

"I don't think there's no nonsense about it. I know he wouldn't lightout jest for fun, not much. Herbert Randolph wasn't no such a feller. Hedidn't have no money, n' he had to work. Me an' him had a room together, as I said, an' his things are in the room now. "

"When did you see him last?" said Mr. Goldwin. 

Bob explained all about Herbert's disappearance, but was careful to saynothing about his suspicions pointing to Felix Mortimer. He saw thelatter in the outer office as he entered, and he thought policy bade himkeep his suspicions to himself for the present. 

"You tell a straightforward story, my boy, " said Mr. Goldwin, "butI cannot think there has been any foul play. In fact, I have heardsomething against this young Randolph that makes me distrust him. Wereit not for this, I should feel more interest in your story, and would doall in my power to try and find him. "

"I don't believe there's nothing against him. He's an honest boy, if Iknow one when I see him. He liked you and his work, and them that speaksagainst him is dishonest themselves. That's what I think about it. "

[Illustration: BOB HUNTER SPEAKS UP FOR HERBERT. ]

"But that is only your opinion. Certainly he does not appear in afavorable light at the present time. "

Presently Bob departed from the bank. He had learned all he expected, and even more. He knew now that Felix Mortimer was in Herbert's place, that Mr. Goldwin had been influenced against his friend by what hebelieved to be falsehoods, and that Herbert's whereabouts was as mucha mystery at the bank as to himself. 

These facts pointed suspiciously to Felix Mortimer. Who else could wantto get Herbert out of the way? Bob argued. Having thus settled thematter in his own mind, he was ready to commence testing his theories. 

"Tom Flannery, " said Bob, when he had returned from Wall Street, "I'vestruck the trail. "

"No, you hain't, Bob, not so quick as this?" said Tom, with surprise. 

Bob explained what he had learned at the bank. 

"Now, " said he, "I want you, Tom, to look out for my business tonight. Get some kid to help you, and mind you see he does his work right. "

"What you goin' to do, Bob?"

"I'm going to lay round Wall Street till that Mortimer feller comesouter the bank. "

"What do you mean? You hain't goin' to knock him out, are you, Bob?"

"Shucks, Tom, you wouldn't make no kind of a detective. Of course Iwouldn't do that. Why, that would spoil the whole game. "

"Well, then, what are you goin' to do?"

"Why, I'll do just as any detective would--follow him, of course. "

"Is that the way they do it, Bob?"

"Some of 'em do, when they have a case like this one. "

"This is a gosh fired hard one, ain't it, Bob?"

"Well, 'tain't no boy's play--not a case like this one. "

"So you're goin' to foller him? I wish I could go with you, Bob. "

"But, you see, you must sell papers. I'll want you to help me later, when I get the case well worked up. "

"It'll be too big for one detective then, I s'pose?"

"That's the idea, Tom. Then I'll call you in, " said Bob, with the swellof a professional. 

"I wish 'twas all worked up, Bob, so you'd want to call me in now, asyou call it. It'll be exciting, won't it?"

"Well, I should think it would, before we get through with it. "

"Say, Bob, will there be any fightin'?" asked Tom, eagerly. He wasalready excited over the prospects. 

"Can't say that now--hain't got the case worked up enough to tell. 'Tain't professional to say too much about a case. None of thedetectives does it, and why should I? That's what I want to know, TomFlannery. "

"Well, you shouldn't, Bob, if the rest doesn't do it. "

"Of course not. It's no use to be a detective, unless the job is doneright and professional. I believe in throwin' some style into anythinglike this. 'Tain't often, you know, Tom, when a feller gets a realgenuine case like this one. Why, plenty er boys might make believe theyhad cases, but they'd be baby cases--only baby cases, Tom Flannery, whenyou'd compare 'em with this one--a real professional case. "

"I don't blame you for bein' proud, Bob, " said Tom, admiringly. "I onlywish I had such a case. "

"Why, you've got it now; you're on it with me, hain't you? Don't you besilly now, Tom. You'll get all you want before you get through with thiscase; an', when it's all published in the papers, your name will beprinted with mine. "

"Gewhittaker!" exclaimed Tom; "I didn't think of that before. Will ournames really be printed, Bob?"

"Why, of course they will. Detectives' names are always printed, hain't they? You make me tired, Tom Flannery. I should think you'd knowbetter. Don't make yourself so redickerlous by askin' any more questionslike that. But just you tend to business, and you'll get all the gloryyou want--professional glory, too. "

"It'll beat jumpin' off the Brooklyn Bridge, won't it?" said Tom. 

"Well, if you ain't an idiot, Tom Flannery, I never saw one. To think ofcomparin' a detective with some fool that wants cheap notoriety likethat! You just wait till you see your name in big letters in the papersalong with mine. It'll be Bob Hunter and Tom Flannery. "

Tom's eyes bulged out with pride at the prospect. He had never beforerealized so fully his own importance. 

CHAPTER IX. 

BOB ASSUMES A DISGUISE. 

At the close of business hours, Felix Mortimer sauntered up Broadwaywith something of an air of triumph about him. His jaw was stillswollen, and doubtless pained him not a little. 

Another boy passed up Broadway at the same time, and only a little waybehind Mortimer. 

It was Bob Hunter, and he managed to keep the same distance betweenhimself and young Mortimer, whom, in fact, he was "shadowing. " Ofcourse, Mortimer knew nothing of this. In fact, he did not know such aboy as Bob Hunter existed. 

At the post office Felix Mortimer turned into Park Row. He stopped andread the bulletins at the _Mail and Express_ office. Then he bought anevening paper, and, standing on the steps of the _World_ office, lookedit over hastily. 

Now he moved on up Publishers' Row, passing the _Times_, the _Tribune_, and the _Sun_ buildings, and walked along Chatham Street. Presently heemerged into the Bowery. Now he walked more rapidly than he had beendoing, so that Bob had to quicken his pace to keep him in sight. 

At the corner of Pell Street and the Bowery he met a young man whoseemed to be waiting for him. 

"I've been hanging round here for 'most half an hour, " said he, as ifdispleased. 

"I'm here on time, " replied Felix; "just half past five. Come, let'shave a glass of beer. "

Peter Smartweed was the name of this young fellow, as Bob afterwardsfound out. 

When Felix and his friend passed into the drinking saloon, Bob followedthem as far as the door; then he turned back, and sought the disguise ofa bootblack. 

A young knight of the brush stood near by, with his blacking box slungover his shoulder. Bob arranged with him for the use of it for a fewmoments, promising to pay over to him all the proceeds he made thereby. He also exchanged his own hat for the cap the boy had on, and, with thishead gear pulled down over the left side of his face, the appearanceof Bob Hunter was much changed. His accustomed step, quick, firm, andexpressive, was changed to that of the nerveless, aimless boy--a sort ofshuffle. 

Thus disguised, he approached Felix Mortimer and his companion, who weresitting at a table with a partially filled schooner of beer before eachof them. 

"Shine? shine, boss?" said Bob, in a strange voice. 

No response was made by the convivial youths. 

"Two for five!" continued Bob, persistently. "Two reg'lar patentleathers for only five cents!"

Peter looked at his boots. They were muddy. Then he argued with himselfthat Felix had paid for the beer, so it seemed to him that he could noteven up the score in any less expensive way than by paying for theshines. 

"Do you mean you will give us both a shine for five cents?" said Peter. 

"Yes, " drawled Bob, lazily. 

"Well, see that they are good ones, now, or I'll not pay you a cent. "

Bob commenced work on the shoes very leisurely. He seemed the embodimentof stupidity, and blundered along in every way possible to prolong thetime. 

"How would you like to climb down, Mort, and shine shoes for a living?"said Peter Smartweed, jokingly. 

"Perhaps I wouldn't mind it if I was stupid as the kid fumbling aroundyour shoes seems to be, " replied Felix, in a more serious mood than hiscompanion. 

[Illustration: BOB HUNTER PLAYS THE DETECTIVE. ]

"Well, I think you looked even more stupid than this young Arab lastnight, when you lay upon the floor. "

"Well, I guess you would have felt stupid, too, if you had got such aclip as I did, " retorted Felix, as he nursed his swollen jaw with hishand. 

"It was a stunning blow, for a fact. John L. Sullivan couldn't have doneit neater. I didn't think, Mort, that that young countryman could hitsuch a clip, did you?"

"No, I didn't; and I'm mighty sure you don't realize now what a stingingblow he hit me. You talk about it as if it didn't amount to much. Well, all I've got to say is, I don't want to see you mauled so, but I wishyou knew how good it felt to be floored the way I was. "

"No, thank you, " said Peter; "I don't want any of it. But you looked socomical, as you fell sprawling, that I couldn't help laughing. I believeI would have laughed if you had been killed. "

Bob Hunter's ears were now wide open. 

"I couldn't see anything to laugh about, " said Felix, bitterly. 

"That isn't very strange, either. You naturally wouldn't, under thecircumstances, " laughed young Smartweed. 

"Come, now, let up, " said Felix. "Your turn may come. "

"I expect it will, if this young farmer ever gets after me. "

"But you don't expect him to get out, do you?"

"I hadn't thought much about it. My part of the programme was to get himinto old Gunwagner's den, and I did it without any accident. "

Felix looked hard at his companion. He knew the last part of thissentence was a sarcastic thrust at him. 

Bob grew excited, and found it difficult to restrain himself. He feltcertain now that these two young villains were talking about his friendHerbert Randolph. 

"No accident would have happened to me, either, if he hadn't hit meunawares, " protested young Mortimer, with a bit of sourness about hismanner. "I allow I could get away with him in a fair fight. "

"Oh, no, you couldn't, Mort; he is too much for you. I could see that ina minute, by the way he handled himself. "

Young Mortimer's face flushed. He didn't like the comparison. 

"Well, he won't bother me again very soon, " said he, vindictively. 

"Didn't they tumble to anything crooked at the bank?" asked Peter, aftera few moments' serious thought. 

"No. "

"I don't see why. The circumstances look suspicious. "

"Well, they didn't suspect the truth. "

"You're in luck, then, that is all I have to say. "

"I shall be, you mean, when we get him out of the way. "

"He seems to be pretty well out of your way now. "

"But that won't last forever. He must be got out of New York, that'sall. Old Gunwagner will not keep him round very long, you may be sure ofthat. "

"You don't know how to shine a shoe, " growled Smartweed to our youngdetective. "See the blacking you have put on the upper! Wipe it off, Isay; at once, too. "

Bob's blood boiled with indignation, and he was about to reply sharply, when he remembered that he was now acting the detective, and so he said:

"All right, boss; I'll fix it fer yer;" and he removed the superfluousblacking with great care. There was no longer any doubt in his mindabout Herbert being a prisoner. He was satisfied that his friend was inthe clutches of old Gunwagner, and he knew from the conversation that hewas in danger of being lost forever to New York and to his friends. 

The situation was an alarming one. Bob pictured vividly the worstpossibilities of our hero's fate. 

Presently, after young Smartweed had lighted a cigarette and taken a fewpuffs, he said, absentmindedly:

"So you are going to send him away from New York?"

"Of course, you don't s'pose we would be very safe with him here, doyou?" replied Mortimer. 

"Safe enough, so long as he is in old Gunwagner's cell. But what is tobe done with him? Send him back to Vermont?"

"Not much; he won't go there unless he escapes. "

"It's rough on the fellow, Mort, to run him off to sea, or to make him aprisoner in the bottom of a coal barge or canal boat. But that is whathe is likely to get from that old shark, " said Peter Smartweed, meaningGunwagner. 

"Don't you get soft hearted now, " replied Felix, in a hard voice. 

"I'm not soft hearted, Mort, and you know it, but I don't like thisbusiness, any way. "

"What did you go into it for, then?"

"What do we do anything for? I thought, from what you said, that he wasa coarse young countryman. But he don't seem like it. In fact I believehe is too nice a fellow to be ruined for life. "

"Perhaps you'd better get him out then, " said Mortimer, sarcastically. 

"You talk like a fool, " replied Smartweed, testily. 

"So do you, " retorted his companion, firing up; and he nursed his achingjaw as if to lend emphasis to his remarks. These explosions suddenlyended the discussion, and as soon as their shoes were polished, the twoyoung villains left the saloon. Mortimer turned up the Bowery, andSmartweed passed into a side street leading towards Broadway. 

Bob readily dropped his assumed character of bootblack, and quicklystarted in pursuit of Felix Mortimer. 

The latter went directly home, where he remained for nearly an hour. Atthe end of this time, he emerged from the house, much to the youngdetective's relief. He had waited outside all this time, patientlywatching for Felix's reappearance. 

Though cold and hungry, Bob could not afford to give up the chase longenough even to get a bit of lunch. He had made wonderful progress so farin his detective work, and he felt, as he had a right to feel, highlyelated over his discoveries. 

Now he was shadowing young Mortimer again. Down the Bowery they wenttill they came to a side street in a disreputable locality. Here theyturned towards the East River, and presently Felix Mortimer left thesidewalk and disappeared within the door of an old building. 

"So this is Gunwagner's, is it?" said Bob to himself. "At least I s'pose'tis, from what them fellers said--Gunwagner--yes, that's the name. Well, this may not be it, but I'm pretty sure it is, " he continued, reasoning over the problem. 

After fixing the house and its locality securely in his mind, and afterhaving waited till he satisfied himself that Mortimer intended remainingthere for a time, he made a lively trip to City Hall Park, where hejoined young Flannery. 

"Well, Bob, have you struck anything?" said Tom, instantly, and withmuch more than a passing interest. 

"Yes; I've struck it rich--reg'lar detective style, I tell you, Tom, "said Bob, with pride and enthusiasm. And then he briefly related all hisdiscoveries. 

"Nobody could er worked the business like you, Bob, " said Tom, admiringly. 

"Well, I did throw a little style into it, I think myself, " repliedBob. "But, " he continued, "there's no time now for talking the matterover. We've got some work to do. I've got the place located, and I wantyou to go with me now, and see what we can do. "

Within five minutes the two boys were on their way to ChristopherGunwagner's, and as they passed hurriedly along the streets they formeda hasty plan for immediate action--a plan cunningly devised foroutwitting this miserable old fence and his villainous companions. 

CHAPTER X. 

SOMETHING ABOUT HERBERT RANDOLPH. 

Had our young hero been more wary, he would not have so easily fallen avictim to the deceit of the genial stranger whom he met on the Bowery. He should have been more cautious, and less ready to assume friendlyrelations with a stranger. His lack of prudence in this respect wasalmost inexcusable, inasmuch as he had been warned by Bob Hunter to lookout for himself. Moreover, his suspicions should have been excited bythe two young fellows he saw on Wall Street, who appeared to beshadowing him. 

But none of these prudential thoughts seemed to occur to young Randolph. In Vermont, he spoke to every one with a frank, open confidence. He hadalways done so from his earliest recollections. Others in his localitydid the same. Unrestrained social intercourse was the universal customof the people. Habit is a great power in one's life. It guided our heroon this fatal night, and he talked freely and confidentially with hisnew acquaintance. 

"Have you ever been in one of these Bowery museums?" asked the genialyoung man, after they had chatted for a little time. 

"No, I have not, " replied Herbert, in a hesitating manner that impliedhis desire to enter. 

This young man was the same one whose boots Bob Hunter blackened when hewas acting the detective, otherwise Peter Smartweed. 

The latter smiled at the readiness with which young Randolph caught atthe bait. 

"Well, you have missed a treat, " said he, with assumed surprise. 

"I suppose so, " replied Herbert, feeling that his education had beenneglected. 

"They have some wonderful curiosities in some of these museums, "continued the young confidence scamp. 

"So I should think, from the looks of these pictures. "

"But this is the poorest museum on the Bowery. There are some greatcuriosities in some of them, and a regular show. "

"Have you been in all of them?" asked Herbert. 

"Oh, yes, dozens of times. Why, I can go into one of the museumswhenever I like, without paying a cent, and it is the best one in NewYork. "

"Can you?" said Herbert, with surprise. "I wish I could go in free. "

"I can fix that for you all right, " said Peter, magnanimously. "I oftentake a friend in with me. "

"And it doesn't cost you anything?"

"No, not a cent. If you like, we will stroll down the Bowery, and dropin for a little while. By the way, I remember now that a new curiosity, a three headed woman, is on exhibition there. "

"A three headed woman!" exclaimed Herbert; "she must be a wonderfulsight!"

"So she is. Come on, let's go and see her. It is not down very far. Youhave nothing to do, I suppose?"

"No, only to pass the time away for an hour or so. "

"Very well, then, you can't pass it in any more agreeable way than this, I am sure. "

"You are very kind, " replied Herbert, as they moved off in the directionof the supposed museum. He had no thought of danger, as he walked alongwith his new friend, happy in anticipation of the pleasure before him. Could he, however, have realized that he was the victim of a shrewdconfidence game, that every step he now took was bringing him nearerto the trap that had been set for him by cruel, unscrupulous villains, how his whole being would have revolted against the presence of theunprincipled fellow beside him, who was now coolly leading him on to hisruin. 

Presently they turned up a side street, and soon stopped before a low, ugly building. 

[Illustration: A SURPRISE FOR FELIX MORTIMER. ]

"The museum is on the next street, " remarked young Smartweed, as he rangthe bell three times. "We have to walk through this court, to reach itby the back passage. "

Still Herbert's suspicions slumbered. 

And now the catch to the door was pulled back, and our unfortunate heroand his companion passed in. The hallway was ominously dark. They gropedtheir way forward till a second door was reached, and here the leaderknocked three times, then paused for a moment and knocked once more. After a brief interval three more knocks precisely like the first weregiven, and then the door opened. 

The two stepped quickly into the room, and Herbert's arms were instantlyseized by some one from behind the door, and drawn backward by an effortto fasten the wrists together behind him. Quicker than thought, youngRandolph wrested his arms from the grip that was upon them, and, turninglike a flash, planted a solid blow upon the jaw of his assailant--a blowwhich sent him, with a terrified yell, sprawling to the floor. 

Then it was that he recognized, in the prostrate figure, Felix Mortimer, and a sickening sense of the awful truth dawned upon him. He wastrapped!

The genial friend whom he had met on the Bowery now showed his realcharacter, and before Herbert could further defend himself, he waspounced upon by him and a villainous looking man with a scraggy redbeard and most repulsive features. They threw a thick black cloth overhis head, and, after binding his hands firmly together, thrust him intoa dark vault, or pen, in the cellar. 

Our hero realized now most fully his helpless and defenselessposition--a position that placed him entirely at the mercy of hisenemies; if mercy in any degree dwelt in the breasts of the cruel bandof outlaws in whose den he was now a prisoner. 

CHAPTER XI. 

IMPRISONED AT THE FENCE. 

"This is a fine beginning to a city career--short but brilliant, " saidyoung Randolph to himself, bitterly, as he mused upon his deplorablesituation. 

"Fool that I was! It's all plain enough to me now, " he continued, aftera half hour's deep thought, in which he traced back, step by step, hisexperiences since landing in the big city. "I ought to have recognizedhim at once--the villain! He is the very fellow I saw across the streetwith his pal, as I left the bank. I thought he looked familiar, butI've seen so many people in this great town that I'm not surprised at mymiss. Mighty bad miss, though; one that has placed me in a box trap, andunder ground at that. "

Herbert was right in his conclusions. The fellow who had so cleverlyplayed the confidence game upon him was the same one who awaited hisappearance in Wall Street, and afterwards shadowed him up Broadway. 

"This must all be the work of that young villain Mortimer, " continuedHerbert, still reasoning on the subject. "I ought to have been sharper;Bob told me to look out for him. If I had had any sense, I could haveseen that he meant to be revenged upon me. I knew it, and yet I didn'twant to admit, even to myself, that I was at all uneasy. He must havebeen the same one that pointed me out to this confidence fellow on WallStreet. He was probably made up with false side whiskers and mustache, so that I wouldn't recognize him. 

"Well, " said he, starting up suddenly from his reverie, "how is all thisreasoning about how I came to get into this trap going to help me to getout of it? That is what I want to know;" and he commenced exploring hisdark, damp cell, in search of some clew that would aid him in solvingthe problem. 

He was not alarmed about his personal safety. Up to this time, happily, no such thought had entered his mind. He sanguinely looked upon hisimprisonment as merely temporary. 

In this opinion, however, he erred greatly. The same rural credulitythat made him the victim of Peter Smartweed, now led him to supposethat the unscrupulous rascals who held him a prisoner would soon releasehim. He looked upon the matter as simply one of revenge on the part ofMortimer. He little realized his true situation, and did not even dreamof the actual significance of his imprisonment. He therefore felt asense of genuine consolation when he thought of the well deserved blowhe had delivered upon his enemy's jaw; and several times, as he prowledaround the cell, he laughed heartily, thinking of Mortimer's ridiculousappearance as he lay stretched upon the floor. 

Herbert Randolph was full of human nature, and human nature of the bestsort--warm blooded, natural, sensible. There was nothing pale andattenuated about him. He was full of spirits, was manly, kind andgenerous, and yet he could appreciate heartily a point honorably gainedon the enemy. Thus instead of giving himself up to despair and grief, hetried to derive all the comfort possible out of his situation. 

His cell was dark as night. He could not see his own hands, and thedampness and musty odor, often noticeable in old cellars, added much tohis discomfort. He found that the cell was made of strong three inchslats, securely bolted to thick timbers. These strips, or slats, wereabout three inches apart. The door was made in the same manner, and wasfastened with a padlock. Altogether his cell was more like a cage thananything else; however, it seemed designed to hold him securely againstall efforts to escape from his captors. 

The door, as previously stated, was fastened by a padlock. Herbertlearned this by putting his hands through the slats, and carefully goingover every part of the fastening arrangement. 

This discovery gave him slight hopes. The lock he judged to be one ofthe ordinary cheap ones such as his father always used on his cornhouseand barn doors. Now he had on several occasions opened these locks bymeans of a stiff wire, properly bent. Therefore, should this lock proveto be one of the same kind, and should fortune place within his reach asuitable piece of wire, or even a nail of the right sort, he felt thathe could make good his escape from this cell. 

"But should I succeed in this, " he very prudently reasoned, "would I beany better off? That heavy trap door is undoubtedly fastened down, and, so far as I know, that is the only means of exit; but---- What is that?"he suddenly said to himself, as he felt the cold shivers creep over him. 

The sound continues. It seems like rasping or grating. Louder and moredistinct it grows, as Herbert's imagination becomes more active. 

Every sound to one in his situation, in that dark, lonesome cellar, could easily be interpreted to mean many forms of danger to him. But atlength he reasons, from the irregular rasping, and from other slightevidences, that this noise is the gnawing of hungry rats. 

What a frightful and alarming discovery this is to him! It strikesterror to his brave young heart, and makes cold beads of perspirationstand out upon his brow. And as these silent drops--the evidence ofsuffering--trickle down his face one by one, chilly and dispiriting, hegrows sick to the very core. 

Alone in a dark, damp cellar, with no means of defense--not even astick, a knife, or any sort of implement to protect himself from thehordes of rats that now surround him. 

This indeed is a night of terror to our young hero. He does not dare tothrow himself upon the bench, lest he should sleep, and, sleeping, beattacked by these dreadful rats. 

Accordingly, he commenced walking back and forth in his cell, as a cagedtiger walks hour after hour from one end to the other of his narrowconfines. 

"This will keep me awake, " said he to himself, with an attempt to rousehis spirits; "and it will also keep the rats away. "

After he had paced thus for a time, he heard steps above him, andinstantly he called out for aid. He called again and again, but theinhuman ear of old Gunwagner was deaf to his imploring cries. 

The sound of footsteps was soon lost, and all was still save the gnawingof the rats. Herbert listened quietly for a time, to study theirmovements. Soon he heard them scampering about in all parts of thecellar. From the noise they made he judged them to be very large;and they were certainly bold, for now they were running about incontemptuous disregard of young Randolph's presence. Occasionally hewould yell at them, and kick vigorously upon the framework of his cell. By this means he kept them at a somewhat respectful distance. 

And now his mind reverted again to the cause of his imprisonment. As thelong, weary hours dragged by, he studied the matter with the utmostcare, giving painstaking thought to the slightest details and the mosttrivial acts. His points were, consequently, well made. They werereasonable, logical, probable. The scheme broadened as he progressed. What he had supposed to be a mere matter of revenge now loomed upclearly and distinctly before him as a bold plot against himself--apiece of outrageous villainy that fairly appalled him. 

He saw Felix Mortimer in his place in the bank; saw himself looked uponby Mr. Goldwin with suspicion and disgust. And this feeling, he knew, would extend to his daughter--bright, winsome Ray. 

It was odd that Herbert should think of her in this connection, whilein such mental agony. He had seen her but once, and then only for aminute. True, she was wonderfully pretty, and her manner was irresistiblyattractive, but young Randolph was of a serious turn of mind. No, he wasnot one to become infatuated with any girl, however charming; he neverhad been, and, to use his own language, he did not propose to become so. But he could not help thinking of Ray in connection with this matter. Herecalled how her sunny presence lighted up the bank that very afternoon, and in imagination he saw her bright, mischievous blue eyes, brimful offun and merriment, as he handed her into her carriage. 

"She did look sweet, confounded if she didn't, " said Herbert to himself, forgetting for the time his sorrow; "sweet and pretty as a peach, andher cheeks had the same rich, delicate tint. Her hair---- Great Scott!"ejaculated young Randolph, suddenly awaking to what he had been saying. "Another evidence of my being a fool. I'd better have stayed on thefarm, " he continued, more or less severely. 

[Illustration: YOUNG RANDOLPH AT LAST FALLS ASLEEP EXHAUSTED. ]

"Well, I'm a prisoner, " he said, sadly, after a thoughtful pause. "Itdoesn't matter much what I think or say. But, somehow or other, I wish Ihad never seen her, " he continued, meditatively. "Now she will think ofme only with contempt, just as her father will. Of course she will; itwould be only natural. "

Exhausted, weary, and even overburdened with oppressive thought, hesat down on the wooden bench in his cell. The rats still gnawed andfrolicked, and prowled at will. Herbert listened to them for a moment;then he thought of his dear mother and father, of his home, his owncomfortable bed. 

A stray tear now stole down his cheeks, and then another. The poor boywas overcome, and he gave way to a sudden outburst of grief. Then herested his head in his hand, and tried to think again. But his mind waswearied to exhaustion. 

"My mother, my mother and father! Oh, how I wish I could see them! Whatwould they do if they only knew where I am?"

He paused after this utterance; and now his thoughts suddenly ceasedtheir weary wanderings. All was quiet, and the long measured breathinggave evidence that our young hero slept. 

CHAPTER XII. 

BOB'S BRILLIANT MOVE. 

"But I say, Bob, I don't jest see how we are goin' to get into thatden, " said Tom Flannery, thoughtfully, as he and his companion hurriedalong towards old Gunwagner's. 

"Don't you?" replied Bob, carelessly, as if the matter was of trivialimportance. 

"No, I don't. Do you, Bob?"

"Do you think, Tom Flannery, that a detective is goin' to tell all heknows--is goin' to give away the game before it's played?" said Bob, with feigned displeasure. 

He asked this question to evade the one put to him. 

"I thought they always told them as was in the secret, don't they?"

"Well, I must say you have some of the ignorantest ideas of any boy Iever see, " said Bob, with assumed surprise. 

Young Flannery looked sad, and made no reply. 

"The trouble with you, Tom, is that you worry too much, " continued thejuvenile detective. 

"I ain't worryin', Bob. What made you think that? I only wanted to knowwhat's the racket, an' what I've got to do. "

"Well, you s'pose I bro't you up here to do somethin', don't you?"

"Of course you did, Bob. But what is it? That's what I want to know. "

"You ask more questions than any feller I ever see, Tom Flannery. Nowyou jest tell me what any detective would do, on a case like this oneis, and tell me what he'd want you to do, an' then I'll tell you what Iwant you to do. "

Tom looked grave, and tried hard to think. 

The fact of the matter is that Bob himself hardly knew what step to takenext, in order to carry out the plan he had formed. But his reputationwas at stake. He thought he must make a good showing before Tom, thoughthe matter of gaining an entrance to Gunwagner's was far from clear tohim. He therefore wanted Tom's opinion, but it would not do to ask himfor it, so he adopted this rather sharp device. 

"Blamed if I can tell, Bob, what a detective would do, " replied Tom. "You see I ain't no natural detective like you. But I should think he'dswoop down on the den and scoop it. "

"And that's what you think a reg'lar detective would do?"

"Yes. I don't see nothin' else for him to do. "

"Well, how would he do it?"

"I ain't no detective, Bob, so I don't know. "

"I didn't s'pose you did know, Tom Flannery, so now I'll tell you, "said Bob, who had seized upon his companion's suggestion. "A regulardetective, if he was in my place, and had you to help him, would do jestwhat I'm going to do, and that is to send you into the den first, to seewhat you can find out. "

"Send me in?" exclaimed Tom, incredulously. 

"Yes, that's what I said, wasn't it?"

"And that's what a reg'lar detective would do?"

"Yes. "

"And that's what you're goin' to do?"

"Yes, of course it is. Why wouldn't I do the same as any otherdetective? That's what I want to know. "

"Of course you would, Bob, but I couldn't do nothin' if I should go in, "said Tom, gently protesting against the proposed plan of action. 

"You can do what I tell you to, can't you?"

"I don't know nothin' about it, any way, I tell you, " replied Tom, showing more plainly his disinclination to obedience. 

"Tom Flannery, I wouldn't er believed that you would back out this way, "said Bob, with surprise. 

"Well, I don't want to be a detective no way. I don't care nothin' aboutmy name bein' in the paper. "

"You hain't got no ambition. If you had, you'd show some spunk now. 'Tain't often a feller has a chance to get into a case like this oneis. "

"Well, I don't care if it ain't, that's what I say. "

"I thought you wanted to be a detective, and couldn't wait, hardly, forme to work up the case. "

"Well, I didn't think I'd have to climb into places like this oldGunwagner's. 'Tain't what I call bein' a detective no way. "

"You make me tired, Tom Flannery. You get the foolishest notions intoyour head of any boy I ever see. "

"Well, I don't care if I do. I know plenty detectives don't do nothin'like this. They jest dress up and play the gentleman, that's what theydo. "

"And that's the kind of a detective you want to be, is it?"

"Yes, it is; there ain't no danger about that kind of bein' adetective. "

"Tom, you'd look great tryin' to be a gentleman, wouldn't you? I'd liketo see you, Tom Flannery, a gentleman!" said Bob, derisively. "It makesme sick, such talk. "

Tom was silent for a time. Evidently he thought there was some groundfor Bob's remarks. 

But an idea occurred to him now. 

"Bob, " said he, "if you like bein' this kind of a detective, why don'tyou go in yourself, instead of sendin' me? Now, answer me that, willyou?"

"It wouldn't be reg'lar professional like, and then there wouldn't be nostyle about it. "

Tom made no reply. In fact there seemed nothing further for him to say;Bob's answer left no chance for argument. 

The two boys now stood opposite Gunwagner's. Presently a boy with apackage in his hand approached the house, and, looking nervously abouthim, as if he feared he was watched, walked up the stoop and rang thebell three times. He did not see the two young detectives, as they werepartially hidden by a big telegraph pole. 

After a time the door opened, and he passed in. Bob noticed that it wasvery dark inside, and wondered why no light shone. 

"I couldn't get in, nohow, if I wanted to, " said Tom, trying to justifyhimself for his seeming cowardice. 

"Does look so, " assented Bob, absentmindedly. 

"I wouldn't like to be a prisoner in there; would you, Bob?"

"No, of course I wouldn't. "

"I wish we could get your chum out. "

"I wish so, too; but you don't s'pose we can do it by standing here, doyou?"

"No, but I don't know nothin' to do; do you, Bob?"

"If I told you what to do, you wouldn't do it. "

"Well, I didn't see no sense in my goin' in there alone, nohow. "

"I did, if you didn't. I wanted you to look round and see what you couldfind out, and post me, so when I went in I could do the grand act. "

"I wouldn't a' got out to post you, Bob. They'd a' kept me--that's whatthey'd done. "

The door now opened, and out came the same boy who but a few minutesbefore had entered the Gunwagner den. He looked cautiously about him, and then started down the street toward the East River. He was a smallboy, of about twelve years of age, while our two detectives were severalyears his senior. From remarks dropped by Felix Mortimer and PeterSmartweed, Bob surmised that Gunwagner might keep a fence, and thesuspicious manner of this small boy confirmed his belief. 

"Here's our chance, " whispered Bob, nervously. "You follow this boy up, and don't let him get away from you. I'll rush ahead and cut him off. Keep close to him, so we can corner him when I whistle three times. "

"All right, " said Tom, with his old show of enthusiasm, and eachcommenced the pursuit. 

Between Allen and Orchard Streets the detectives closed in on the smallboy. Bob had put himself fairly in front of him, and Tom followed closebehind. The chief detective slackened his pace very perceptibly, andseemed to be trying to make out the number on the house before which henow halted. 

"Can you tell me where old Gunwagner lives?" said he, addressing thesmall boy, who was now about to pass by. 

The boy stopped suddenly, and the color as suddenly left his face. 

Bob had purposely chosen this locality, close to a gaslight, so that hemight note the effect of his question upon the boy. Now he gave thesignal as agreed upon, and Tom instantly came up and took a positionthat made retreat for the lad impossible. The latter saw this, and burstinto tears. Conscious of his own guilt, he needed no further accuser tocondemn him. 

"Don't take it so hard, " said Bob; "you do the square thing, and wewon't blow on you--will we, Tom?"

"No, we won't, " replied the latter. 

"We saw you when you went into Gunwagner's--saw the package in yourhand, and know the whole game, " continued Bob. "Now, if you will helpus put up a job, why, we will let you off; but if you don't come downsquare and do the right thing, why, we will jest run you in, and you'llget a couple of years or more on the Island. Now what do you say?"

"What do you want me to do?" sobbed the small boy, trembling with fear. 

"I want you to go back with us, and take me into Gunwagner's. "

Tom was an interested listener, for he knew nothing about Bob's plans orpurposes. 

From further questionings, and many threats, our detectives found thata number of boys were in the habit of taking stolen goods to thismiserable old fence. The number mixed up in the affair Bob did notlearn, but he ascertained the fact that Felix Mortimer had often beenseen there by this lad. 

"Now me and Tom are doin' the detective business, " said the chief; "andif you want to be a detective with us, you can join right in. "

"I want to go home, " sobbed the boy. 

"Well, you can't, not now, " said Bob, emphatically. "We hain't got notime for nonsense. You've either got to go along with me and Tom, andhelp us, or we will run you in. Now which will you do?"

The boy yielded to the eloquence of the chief detective, and accompaniedhim and Tom back to old Gunwagner's. The boldness of this move capturedyoung Flannery's admiration. 

"Now this is what I call bein' detectives, Bob, " whispered he. "Gewhittaker, I didn't think, though, you could do it so grand. I don'tbelieve nobody could beat you. "

Bob nodded his approval of the compliment, and then addressed himself tothe young lad. 

"I want you, " said he, "to take me in and say I'm a friend of yours whowants to sell somethin'. You needn't do nothin' more. Every detectiveputs up jobs like this, so 'tain't tellin' nothin' wrong. "

Then, turning to his companion, he added:

"Now, Tom, if this boy ain't square, and he does anything so I get intoGunwagner's clutches, and can't get out, why I want you to go for anofficer, and come and arrest this boy and the whole gang. "

The lad trembled. "I won't do nothin', " he protested. "I'll do just whatyou want me to. "

"All right; you do so, and you'll save yourself a visit to the Island. Now, when I am talking with old Gunwagner, if I tell you to come outsideand get the package I left at the door, why, you come jest as if I didhave it there, and you come right straight for Tom, and he will tell youwhat to do. And mind you be sure and don't close the outside door, for Iwant you to leave it so you and Tom can get in without ringing thebell, for that's the secret of the whole job. "

The boy readily assented to Bob's conditions and commands, and then thechief gave his companion secret instructions, to be acted upon after hehimself had gone into the very den of the old fence. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A TERRIBLE FEAR. 

It was towards morning when Herbert Randolph fell asleep on the night ofhis imprisonment. He had fought manfully to keep awake, dreading theconsequences of slumber, but tired nature gave way at last, and ouryoung hero slept, unconscious now of danger. 

The rats that he so much feared still frolicked, and prowled, andgnawed, as they had done for hours. They climbed upon boxes and barrels, and made their way into every corner and crevice. Everything wasinspected by them. 

More inquisitive rats than these never infested the metropolis. Nowthey went in droves, and scampered from place to place like a flock offrightened sheep. Then they strayed apart and prowled for a time alone. An occasional fight came off by way of variety, and in these battles thevanquished, and perhaps their supporters, often squealed like so manyyoung pigs. 

Thus the carousal continued hour after hour, and that old Gunwagnercellar was for the time a diminutive bedlam. Our young hero, nevertheless, slept on and on, unconscious of this racket. 

After a while the rats grew bolder. Their curiosity became greater, and then they began to investigate more carefully the state of thingswithin the prison cell, and at length their attention was turned to thequiet sleeper. 

Well bred rats are always cautious, and therefore are somewhatrespectful, but the drove at old Gunwagner's did not show this desirabletrait. In fact they were not unlike the old fence himself--daring, avaricious and discourteous. No better proof of this could be instancedthan their disreputable treatment of our young hero. 

Rats, as a rule, show a special fondness for leather. Undoubtedly it ispalatable to them. But this fact would not justify them in the attemptthey made to appropriate to themselves Herbert's boots. The propriety ofsuch an act was most questionable, and no well mannered rats would haveallowed themselves to become a party to such a raid. But as a matter offact, and as Herbert learned to his sorrow, there were no well manneredrats at old Gunwagner's--none but a thieving, quarrelsome lot. 

After a council of war had been held, and a great amount ofreconnoitering had been done, it was decided that these rural bootscould not be removed from their rightful owner in their present shape;therefore they fell vigorously to work to reduce them to a more movablecondition. 

When Herbert fell asleep, he was sitting on a bench with his feet uponthe floor. He was still in this position, with his head resting in hishand, and his elbow supported by the side of his prison cell, when therats made war on his boots. They gnawed and chipped away at them at alively rate, and in a little time the uppers were entirely destroyed. The cotton linings, to be sure, were still intact, as these they did nottrouble. Evidently cotton cloth was not a tempting diet for them. 

Up to this time Herbert had not moved a muscle since he fell asleep, but now a troubled dream or something else, I know not what, disturbedhim. Possibly it was the continued gnawing on his already shatteredboots. It might, however, have been the fear of these dreadful rats, orthe repulsive image of old Gunwagner, that haunted him and broke thesoundness of his slumbers. 

Presently he opened his eyes, drowsily, and his first half wakingimpression was the peculiar sensation at his feet. In another instant afull realization of the cause of this feeling darted into his mind, andwith a pitiful cry of terror he bounded into the air like a frighteneddeer. And to add to the horror of his situation, in descending his rightfoot came down squarely upon one of the rats, which emitted a strangecry, a sort of squeal, that sent a thrill throughout every nerve of ourhero's body. 

A second leap brought him standing upon the bench upon which he had beensitting. 

If ever a boy had good reason to be frightened, it was Herbert Randolph. His situation was one to drive men mad--in that dark, damp cellar, thus surrounded and beset by this countless horde of rats. The coldperspiration stood out upon him, and he trembled with an uncontrollablefear. 

Something was wrong with his feet. He knew that, for his shoes nowbarely hung upon them. To what extent the rats had gone he dreadedto know. Already he could feel his feet smart and burn in a peculiarmanner. Had they received poisonous bites, he asked himself? The meresuggestion of such a condition to one in his frightened state of mindwas quite as bad, for the time, as actual wounds would have been. 

A rat isn't very good company at any time. Under the most favorableconditions his presence has a tendency to send people upon chairs orthe nearest table, and not infrequently they do this little act witha whoop that would do credit to a genuine frontier Indian. When, therefore, we consider this fact, it is not difficult to realize thealarming situation in which our young hero was, and but for the timelysound of footsteps overhead it is impossible to predict what might havebeen the result of this terrible mental strain on him. 

[Illustration: SUDDENLY REALIZING HIS HORRIBLE SITUATION, HERBERT SPRANGUPON THE BENCH WITH A PITIFUL CRY OF TERROR. ]

The night had worn away, the old fence was again on the move, andHerbert's piercing cry brought him to the room over the cell. No soonerhad our young friend heard this sound above his head than he appealedfor help. So alarming were his cries that even old Gunwagner was atlength moved to go to his assistance. He retraced his steps to the frontof the house, and, taking a lighted lamp with him, passed down throughthe trap door, and then made his way into the rear cellar to Herbert'scell. 

Never before in his life had the presence of a human being been sowelcome as was that of Gunwagner to our frightened hero. What a reliefto this oppressive darkness was that small lamp light, and how quicklyit drove all the rats into their hiding places. 

"What's all this row about?" growled the old fence. 

"These rats, " gasped Herbert, with a strange, wild look; "see, they havebitten me, " pointing to his boots, or what remained of them. 

Gunwagner's heart softened a trifle as he beheld the boy's sufferings, and saw how he had been assailed. 

"Are you sure they have bit you?" said he, uneasily. 

"Look! see!" replied Herbert, holding out the worst mutilated boot. Hefully believed he had been bitten, though, as a matter of fact, he hadnot. 

The old fence became alarmed, fearing the annoyance and possible dangerthat might follow; but when he had satisfied himself by a carefulexamination that young Randolph had sustained no injuries, he speedilychanged back to his old hard manner again--a cold, cruel manner thatshowed no mercy. 

Herbert begged to be released from his prison pen, but his pleadingswere of no avail. 

"Why are you treating me in this inhuman way?" asked he. "What have Idone that I should be shut up here by you?"

Old Gunwagner looked hard at him, but made no reply. 

"I know why it is, " continued our hero, growing bold and defiant when hesaw it was useless to plead for kindness; "I can see through the wholescheme now; but you mark my words, old man, you will suffer for thiscruelty, and so will your friend Felix Mortimer. "

These words came from the lips of the young prisoner with such terribleemphasis that old Gunwagner, hardened as he was in sin, grew pale, andtrembled visibly for his own safety. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

BOB OUTWITS THE OLD FENCE. 

Bob easily gained admittance to the den by the aid of his confederate. He found there old Gunwagner, Felix Mortimer, and another boy, whopassed out just after the young detective entered. The old fence eyedBob sharply, and perhaps somewhat suspiciously. The manner of the smallboy was excited. He did not appear natural, and this alone wassufficient to attract the old man's attention. 

It was a critical moment for Bob. He did not know that the boy would notturn against him. In fact, he half suspected he would, but neverthelesshe was willing to take the chance in the interest of Herbert, and thathe might do a skillful piece of detective work. Moreover, there was thedanger of being recognized by Felix Mortimer, who had seen him twicethat very day; once at the bank in the morning, and again in theafternoon when Bob played the role of bootblack. 

Old Gunwagner questioned him sharply. The small boy, however, toldthe story precisely in accordance with Bob's instructions. The youngdetective meanwhile hastily surveyed the room and its furnishings, andwhen he had discovered what he thought would serve his purpose, heturned to his confederate, and said:

"Well, I believe I'll let this man have the things I brought with me. You may go out and get them, and bring them in here. "

"Why didn't you bring them in with you?" asked the fence, suavely. 

"I didn't know as we could trade, so I thought I'd better leave 'emoutside, " answered Bob, carelessly. 

When Tom saw the boy come out alone, he knew the part he was to act, andfollowing out the directions of his chief, he and the confederate rushedinto the dark passageway leading to the fence, and yelled "Fire" withall the power they could command. Before giving the alarm, however, theylighted a newspaper, and placed it near the outer door. 

Bob had purposely made his way to a far corner of the room, so that, asa matter of fact, he was farther from the place of exit than eitherMortimer or Gunwagner. This was part of his scheme. 

When the cry of fire reached the old fence, he bounded to the door likea frightened deer. Throwing it open, his eyes instantly fell upon thegreat flames that shot up from the burning paper. The sight struckterror to him, and, with an agonized cry, he rushed down the hallway tothe immediate scene of the conflagration, with Felix Mortimer not farbehind him. 

A gust of wind now blew in through the partially open door, andscattered the charred remains of the newspaper all about the feet of thefence. In a few seconds all traces of the fire were lost, and then thetrick dawned upon the old man. He was furious with rage, and ran outinto the street, to try and discover the perpetrators of the deed. 

Tom and the confederate remained on the opposite side of the street tillGunwagner and Mortimer appeared at the door. Bob had instructed Tom todo this. 

Both Gunwagner and Felix tumbled into this trap, which, by the way, wasa skillful one for our detective to set. As soon as they caught sight ofthe two boys, they started after them in hot pursuit, but Tom and theyoung lad were excellent runners, and, having a good start of theirpursuers, they kept well ahead of them. 

Seeing, therefore, that the chase was a hopeless one, the old fence andMortimer returned to the den. The former was almost desperately ugly. Hegrowled and raved in a frightful manner, that quite alarmed our youngdetective. 

"What has become of that new boy?" asked Felix, who was the first tothink about him. 

Gunwagner was so thoroughly agitated that up to this time he had notthought about Bob. At young Mortimer's reminder, however, he stoppedsuddenly in his ravings, and the color as quickly left his face. Then hehurried to where a box containing silver and other valuables were kept. 

"It's here, " he gasped, almost paralyzed with the fear that it had beenstolen by the strange boy. 

"Is anything else missing?" asked Felix. 

Our young detective was at this minute doubled up in a large box thatwas stowed away under a sort of makeshift counter. He had hurriedlyconcealed himself in this manner during the absence of the fence andFelix. 

"I'll look things over and see, " said old Gunwagner, replying toMortimer's question. 

Bob thought the game was all up with him now. He felt much as TomFlannery did. He, too, "didn't want to be a detective, no how. "

"There's no show for me if this old tyrant gets his hands on to me, "said Bob to himself, as he lay cramped up in that dirty box, hardlydaring to breathe. "I didn't think about it comin' out this way; if Ihad, I would a' fixed things with Tom different. Now I suppose he's gonehome, as I told him to, and I can't look for no help from him or nobodyelse. "

The situation was a depressing one, and it grew more so as the mousingold fence came nearer and nearer to where our young detective lay. Hesearched high and low for traces of theft, and examined everything withcareful scrutiny. 

He was now close to Bob's hiding place. 

"He must be hid away here somewhere, " said Felix, with a very anxiouslook upon his face. 

"What makes you think so?" asked the old man, as he noticed youngMortimer's anxiety. 

[Illustration: GUNWAGNER PURSUING THE BOYS. ]

No boy ever tried harder to suppress his breath than Bob Hunter did atthis instant. "It's all up with me now, " said he to himself. "They'llget me sure; but I'll die game. "

"It looks suspicious to me, and that's why I think so, " replied Felix, showing no little alarm. 

"I don't see nothing suspicious about it, as long as nothing ismissing. "

"To be sure, but I believe he is the same boy that was in the bank todaylooking for this Randolph. "

"And he is the boy that the old banker told you about?"

"Yes; the newsboy who said some foul play had overtaken Randolph. "

The old fence looked exceedingly troubled. 

"We must capture this young Arab, " said he, emphatically, after a fewmoments' careful thought. 

Bob's ears missed nothing. This conversation interested him through andthrough. 

"Arab!" said he to himself. "If I don't get caught I'll show you whetherI'm an Arab or not. "

"Perhaps he is already in there, " suggested Mortimer again. 

"We will go down cellar and see, " said the old man. "He might have gonedown through that trap door while we was out. "

"That's what I thought; and he and Randolph may already be hatching upsome plan for escaping, " said Felix. 

Why old Gunwagner neglected to search the big box under the counter isinexplicable. Possibly the hand of destiny shielded the young detective, for he was on an errand of mercy. 

The old man and Felix now descended the stairs into the cellar, andcommenced their search for the strange boy who had so thoroughly alarmedthem. 

CHAPTER XV. 

BOB AND HERBERT MEET. 

"Well, I can't understand it, " said Felix, as he and the old fence cameup from the cellar. "He certainly isn't down there. "

"No, he ain't here, that's sure, " replied Gunwagner; "but if it was thenewsboy, you can be sure he will show up again in a way not very goodfor us. "

"So I think, " assented Mortimer. 

"Then we must capture him, that's all. "

"I wish we could. You see he might go to old Goldwin again, and tell himhe saw me here. "

"Yes, or go to the police headquarters and raise a row, " suggestedGunwagner, gloomily. 

"I didn't think of that. Well, as you say, the only thing for us to dois to capture him and get him where he won't make trouble for us. "

"The whole game will be lost, and we will be pulled by the police unlesswe do so. "

"You might's well count your game lost, then, " said Bob to himself, for he had now renewed hope of carrying through his scheme. But he wasnearly paralyzed with pain, from the cramped and uncomfortable positionin which he had remained so long. He felt, however, that he was doing agreat detective act, so he bore up under his sufferings with heroicfortitude. 

"Suppose the police should drop on us, and find Randolph in the cellar?"suggested young Mortimer. 

The thought evidently alarmed old Gunwagner. His face and whole mannershowed that it did. 

"If they should do that, we would go to Sing Sing, " returned he, grimly. 

Felix Mortimer possessed an extremely cool nerve, but the words "SingSing" did not fall upon his ears like sweet music. 

"I wish we could get him out of the way, " said he, with manifestanxiety. "It must be done tomorrow. "

"There's no time to lose, I feel sure. But what shall be done with him?"

"He must be put where he will never blow on us. "

"Of course he must. "

"It's a bad job--a dirty, bad job--that's what I call it. I only wishyou'd kept away from me with your devilish scheme, " said the oldvillain, petulantly. 

"It's no time to talk about that now, " returned Mortimer, coolly. "Youare in for it as well as I, so we must work together. "

"We must, must we?" hissed the old man, wickedly. 

"Yes, " said Mortimer, with a determined manner, that made the old outlawcower and cringe. Felix Mortimer possessed the stronger character of thetwo, and, now he was aroused, Gunwagner was subservient to his will. 

"Unless you show yourself a man now, I will leave you to fight it outalone, " continued Felix. "I can take care of myself. Randolph is on yourhands, and here the police will find him. "

Low, profane mutterings from the old culprit's mouth now filled the air. He was cornered, and Mortimer had him at his mercy. Gunwagner saw thisnow, and commenced planning to get our young hero out of the way. 

An exceedingly interesting conversation this proved to the youngdetective, who carefully gathered in every word. 

"Something is liable to drop with you fellers before long, " said he tohimself. "This detective business is mighty excitin', if it's all likethis is. I wonder what Tom Flannery would say now, if he could take thisall in the same way I'm doin' it!"

"I s'pose we can run him off to sea, " said Gunwagner, at length. "That'sthe only way I know of to get him out of the way. "

"Then why not do that?" replied Mortimer. 

"It will cost a lot of money. "

"Better pay out the money than go to Sing Sing. "

The old fence looked daggers at the author of this remark, but evidentlythought it best to make no direct reply. 

"I wish we could get him away tonight, " continued young Mortimer, in away that exasperated Gunwagner. 

"Well, you're mighty liable to be accommodated, " thought Bob, as a broadgrin played over his face, despite the suffering he was enduring. "I'mgoin' to take a hand in this business myself, and I'll try my best tohelp you fellers through with this job. "

"No, it can't be done tonight, " said the old fence, gruffly; "but I'llsee what can be done tomorrow. "

"Fix it so he will never get back here to New York again, " saidMortimer, heartlessly. 

"Of course; that's the only thing to do. "

"Remember, there is no time to lose, for if we get tripped up here, thewhole game will be up at the bank, and all our trouble will come tonothing. "

"I understand that; but you have said nothing about the outlook at thebank. "

"I have had no chance. Some one has been here all the evening. "

"You have the chance now. "

"So I have; but there is nothing to say yet. You don't expect me to roba bank in one day, do you?"

"No, of course not; but what are the chances for carrying out thescheme?"

"Ah, ha!" said the young detective to himself; "bank robbing, is it?That's the scheme. Well, this detective business beats me. I guessnobody don't often get a more excitin' case than this one is--that'swhat I think. "

After a little further discussion between the two crooks, Mortimer leftthe den and started for home. Bob suspected that he felt very happy toget away from there; and Bob was quite right, for, as a matter of fact, the young scoundrel had become so alarmed over the prospect, that hefelt very uneasy about remaining a minute longer than was absolutelynecessary. When he had gone, the old fence closed and bolted the doors, and then passed into a rear room, where he retired to his bed. 

When all had been quiet for perhaps the space of fifteen or twentyminutes, the young detective crawled out of his box and straightenedhimself out. He had, however, been cramped up so long that this was notso easily done. But matters of so great moment were before him now, thathe could not think of aches and pains. He learned about the location ofthe trap door, when the old fence and young Mortimer went into thecellar to look for him. 

On his hands and knees Bob cautiously proceeded, searching on eitherside of him for the door. It was so dark that he could see nothing, andas the room was filled with chairs, old boxes, and so on, he found it noeasy matter to navigate under such circumstances, especially as he knewthat the slightest noise would prove fatal to his scheme. 

At length his hand rested upon the fastening of the trap door, and tohis horror he found it locked. If the room had seemed dark before to theyoung detective, it was now most oppressively black. What to do, whichway to turn, he did not know. The doors leading to the street werelocked, he had no keys about him, and no means of producing a light. 

"This is the worst go I've struck yet, " said Bob to himself, as hemeditated over his situation. "Jest as I thought everything was allfixed, this blamed old lock knocks me out. Well, I've pulled throughpretty good so far, and I won't give it up yet. I may strike an idea, "he continued, undismayed, and then commenced prowling stealthily aboutthe room, in search of something--anything that would serve his purpose. 

He thought if he could find the key to the hall door he would try tomake his escape from the building; and, once out, he could get matches, and whatever else he needed to aid him in carrying out his scheme to agrand success. But he was no more fortunate in this effort than he hadbeen in hunting for the key to the trap door. 

He searched, too, every nook and corner for a match, but failed utterlyto find one, or anything to keep his courage good. The situation beganto look alarming to him. He was now as much a prisoner as HerbertRandolph. 

"I wonder what Tom Flannery would do if he was in my place?" musedthe young detective, as he sat upon the floor, somewhat depressed inspirits. "I think he'd just lay down and bawl and throw up the wholegame, that's what Tom Flannery would do. But I ain't goin' to throw upno game till it's lost, not ef Bob Hunter knows himself. There ain't butone thing to do now, and that's to go into old Gunwagner's bedroom, andtake them keys outer his pocket, that's what I think. Ef he was towake up, tho', and catch me at it--well, I guess I wouldn't be in thedetective business no more. But--what's that noise?" said he to himself, suddenly becoming aware of a strange sound. 

Our young detective felt a cold chill creep over him. His first thoughtwas that the old fence was coming into his presence, and would of coursecapture him and punish him most inhumanly. But as the slight noisecontinued, and Gunwagner did not appear, Bob took courage, and listenedkeenly for developments. Presently the sound came nearer, and now agleam of light shone up through a crack in the floor. 

"Can it be Vermont?" said Bob to himself, hardly believing his own eyes. 

Still nearer came the light. 

"He is climbing the stairs, as sure's I'm alive, " said Bob, almostovercome with joy. 

In the trap door was a small knot hole, about an inch and a half indiameter. Through this opening the light now shone distinctly, and itwas most welcome to the eyes of our young detective. A pressure was nowbrought to bear upon the door from the under side, but it only yieldedso far as the fastening would allow. 

"Is that you, Vermont?" whispered Bob through the knot hole. 

No answer was given. 

Herbert Randolph had never considered himself in any degreesuperstitious. But what could this be but Bob Hunter's spirit?

"Don't be afraid, " said the young detective, who imagined Herbert wouldfind it difficult to realize that he was there. "It's Bob Hunter. Iain't got no card with me, or I'd send it down to you. "

This remark sounded so much like Bob that young Randolph no longerdoubted his own senses. 

"Bob Hunter!" exclaimed he. "How in the world came you here, and whatare you doing?"

"Yes, it's me, Vermont. But don't stop to ask no questions now. I'm hereto help you get out, but this blamed old door is locked, and I hain'tgot no key, nor no light, nor nothin'. "

After exchanging a few words, Herbert took from his pocket a piece ofpaper. This he made into a taper, which he lighted and passed up throughthe knot hole to Bob. With this the latter lighted the gas; and now hefelt that he was in a position to be of some service to his friend. 

A careful search failed to reveal any keys. Then the two boys discussedthe situation, and presently Herbert passed a bent nail to the youngdetective, and instructed him how to operate on the lock, which speedilyyielded to the boy's efforts. In another instant the trap door wasthrown up, and, by a most unfortunate blunder, it fell back with atremendous crash. 

Herbert, however, emerged quickly from his cold, damp prison, with alook of consternation pictured upon his face. Both he and Bob knew thatold Gunwagner would be upon them in less than a minute, and they hastilyprepared to defend themselves. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE OLD FENCE IN A TRAP. 

"What shall we do?" said Bob, with no little alarm, as Herbert Randolphclimbed up through the old trap door. 

"We must defend ourselves, " replied the young Vermonter, withcharacteristic firmness. 

"There ain't no way to escape, is there?"

"No, I suppose not, if the hall door is locked. "

"It is, and I can't find no key. "

"Have you looked since the gas was lighted?"

"Yes, and 'tain't there nowhere. "

"Where do you imagine it is?"

"I guess the old duffer has it in his pocket, the same as he has the keyto the trap door. "

"Well, there is no time to lose. Old Gunwagner will be down upon us inan instant. "

"Do you think he will bring a revolver with him?" asked Bob, somewhatnervously. 

"Very likely he will. "

"I guess we'd better climb down cellar, then, and pretty lively, too. "

"No, we won't, " replied Herbert, decidedly. "I have had all of thatprison I want. We will fight it out here. "

"All right, then, I'll shut this door down, or we might get thrown downcellar in the fight. "

"So we might, and---- Ah, here he comes!" said young Randolph, detectingthe sound of footsteps, as old Gunwagner approached. 

[Illustration: GUNWAGNER BURSTS INTO THE ROOM IN A FURIOUS MOOD. ]

"Stand in front of the counter, so that he will see you when he opensthe door, and----"

"But the revolver!" interrupted Bob. 

He had now entirely relinquished the leadership, for in Herbert Randolphhe recognized his superior. 

"I was going to tell you about that, " replied our hero. "If you see arevolver in his hand, you must drop behind the counter as quickly aspossible. "

"Yes, and I won't waste no time about it, either. "

"No, you'd better not, " said the young Vermonter; and he had barely timeto dart behind the door, when old Gunwagner placed his hand upon thelatch, and burst into the room. His eye fell upon Bob Hunter, who stooddirectly in front of him, but about two thirds of the way across theroom. 

The old fence recognized him instantly, and with a fiendish shout madefor the lad, as if he meant annihilation. He had not proceeded far, however, when young Randolph bounded from behind the door, and fell uponhis shoulders, bearing him to the floor. 

A yell of terror escaped from the old villain, that told clearly of hisalarm. He had not thought of Herbert until now. He was at a loss to knowwhat caused the noise, when the trap door slipped back with such aresounding crash. 

But when his eyes fell upon Bob Hunter, he readily jumped at theconclusion that he alone had caused the rumpus. Now, however, he wasstunned at this unexpected assault from the rear. When Herbert and theold man fell to the floor, Bob Hunter was quickly at his friend's side, ready to take a hand in the struggle, if needed. 

While old Gunwagner was a cruel, heartless man, he nevertheless lackedgenuine courage. Like the majority of men of his class, he was a cowardat heart. He therefore readily gave up the struggle, when surprised byHerbert Randolph. 

"It's your turn now, old man, " said our young hero, triumphantly. "Lastnight you pounced upon me, and seemed to like it. Now perhaps you willenjoy this!"

A coarse oath, characteristic of the old villain, was the reply. 

"You may as well submit decently. You are in our power now, and if youbehave yourself, you will save us the necessity of compelling you toobey. "

The old fence grated his teeth, and looked the very incarnation of allthat was evil. The wicked spirit that shone in his face would haveafforded a rare study for a painter. He made a movement of his righthand, as if to reach back to his hip pocket. A movement of this sort, under such circumstances, is considered suggestive of firearms. 

Bob did not wait to see whether he was reaching for a revolver or someother ugly weapon, but instantly fell upon this hand, and secured it. The other hand was in Herbert's firm grasp, so it was useless for theold fence to struggle further. 

"My turn has come now to get square with you, you cruel old sinner, "said Herbert. "I begged of you to take me out of that foul cellar andaway from those dreadful rats, but you showed no mercy. "

Gunwagner made no reply. 

"Yes, and he was goin' to send you off on some kind of a ship tomorrow, so you would never get back to New York no more, " said Bob. 

"Send me off on a ship!" exclaimed our hero, with a shudder. He had notuntil now even imagined the full purpose of his enemies. 

"Yes, that's what they said tonight, him and that Mortimer feller. "

"And you heard this?"

"Yes, when I was in that box under the counter there, " replied Bob, withenthusiasm; "and they talked about bank robbin', too. "

At this revelation old Gunwagner seemed to give up all hope. Thehardness of his face melted into an expression of pain, and he trembledwith fear, like the frightened thing that he was. He had been outwittedby the young detective. 

"Richard Goldwin's bank, I suppose, " replied young Randolph, almostdazed at the audacity of the villains. 

"Yes, that was their game in getting you out of the way. "

"I didn't think of that before. "

"Well, you hain't been in New York very long, and so you don't know theway they do things here--them that is bad, like this gang. "

"How did you find out where I was, and how in the world did you manageto get in here without being seen?"

"Well, you see, I was a detective, " said Bob, with a show of pride. 

"A detective!" exclaimed the young Vermonter, looking at his friend withthe innocent wonder of a country boy. 

"Yes, but I hain't got no time to tell you about it now. We must bemovin', you see. "

"So we must, " replied Herbert. 

Doubtless old Gunwagner, too, would have liked much to hear Bob relatehow he discovered his friend's prison. But even this small satisfactionwas denied him. 

"What's the first move?" said Bob. 

"I have been thinking about that, " replied our hero. 

"Of course, we must have him arrested. "

"Certainly we must. "

"Oh, no, don't, don't!" pleaded the old man, speaking for the firsttime. 

"It is too late to plead now, " said young Randolph. "You should havethought of this before committing the evil that you have done. "

"But I am an old man, and he led me into it. "

"Who?"

"Mortimer, Felix Mortimer. If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't er doneit. "

"Oh, that don't go with us, " said Bob. "I heard the whole story tonight. You was into the game with him, and now you're trapped you wantersqueal, that's what you do. But it won't do you no good. You are a badlot from way back--gettin' boys to steal things for you!"

This was a revelation to young Randolph, as he did not know until nowthat old Gunwagner kept a fence. 

"Don't have me arrested, boys, " whined the old villain, now trying towork on their sympathy. "It would kill me. I am so old. "

"Do you expect sympathy from me, after your heartless treatment?" saidHerbert. 

"He made me do it, " was the reply, referring to Mortimer. 

"Nonsense, you could have taken me out of that old cellar if you hadwanted to do so. "

"Yes, and do you think you would er showed me any sympathy, if you'd gotme into your clutches alone?" put in Bob. 

"I wouldn't have been hard on you. "

"No, you wouldn't, " said the young detective, sarcastically. "Your talktonight, when I was hid away, sounded as if you wouldn't er been hard onme--oh, no, you wouldn't. I could tell that from the way you plunged atme just now, when you came through that door with your war paint on. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

BOB GOES FOR AN OFFICER. 

Old Gunwagner saw quite clearly that any further effort to play upon theboys' sympathy was useless. 

The first shock of his surprise was over, and now the subtle cunning ofhis nature began to reassert itself. 

"Boys, you have the advantage of me at present, " said he, softly. "But Ican't see how it will pay you to act foolish. "

"What do you mean?" asked Herbert. 

"I mean that it will pay you a good deal better to make terms with me. "

"How so?"

"Would you like to be rich?" was the reply. 

"I suppose every American wants to be rich, and I guess we are noexception, are we, Bob?"

"I should think we ain't, " replied the latter. 

"So I thought, " said the old fence, "and it's in my power to make yourich. "

The boys were listening to subtle, dangerous words. 

"How can you do that?" said Bob, growing interested. 

"There are a number of ways that I might do it. In the first place, Icould give both of you all the money you will ever need, and still berich myself. "

"But a man isn't likely to give away so much, " said Herbert. 

"You must have a payin' business, " observed the young detective. 

"Of course I must, and that is the point I am coming at. You boys haveshown yourselves keen lads, and I always like to help such boys along, for I was poor once myself. Now my proposition is this: I'll give youboth a show in the business here with me. "

"No, sir, thank you, we do not care to go into a dishonest business likethis, " said Herbert, emphatically, speaking for both Bob and himself. 

"Not if you could each make ten thousand a year, clean money?"

"No; not if we could make ten times that, " replied our hero. 

"You could have a good time on ten thousand a year--boys of your age. "

"Not on stolen money. "

"It wouldn't be on stolen money. "

"It looks very much like it, when you buy stolen goods. "

"Yes, and fix up a job for bank robbin', " added Bob. 

"Well, suppose it does look so, why couldn't you enjoy the money just asmuch?"

"Because it wouldn't be right for us to have it, " returned our hero. 

"Boys, you are not so old as I am. I've seen a good deal of life. Moneyis money, and it don't matter where it comes from, it will buy just asmuch. "

"It will not always buy one his liberty, " replied young Randolph, coolly. 

This remark came close home to the old fence, and disconcerted him for aminute. Presently, however, he rallied, and said:

"Do you think one has his liberty, as you call it, when he is poor--sopoor that he can have no luxuries?"

"To be sure he does. Why not?"

"You will change your mind some day, and perhaps it will be too late. "

"I hope I shall never change my mind in favor of dishonesty and crime. "

"Do you know that a boy's chance to get rich hardly ever comes to himbut once in his life?" continued old Gunwagner, undaunted. 

"No, and I don't believe it is so, either. "

"Another evidence of your inexperience. When you get older, you willlook back and see what I tell you is true; and if you miss this chanceyou will never get another one like it. "

"We don't want another one like it, so it's no use to talk about it anymore. "

"That's so, " said Bob; "he hain't got no interest in us; I can seethrough his trick. "

"You are mistaken, young man. If you don't want to go into the businesshere yourselves, I'll give you an interest in it, if you will do nothingto injure it. You see, you know about the business here now, and if youshould give it away to the police, why it would hurt it, don't youunderstand?"

"Yes, we understand it too well, but do not want an interest in it, "said Herbert. 

"It would pay you well, " persisted the old fence; "say about seven toten thousand dollars each every year, and you needn't come anearit--just take your dividends every week, and that's all. "

"Well, we don't want no such dividends, " said Bob; "nor we couldn't get'em if we did want 'em, that's all. "

"You are mistaken again, for if you think the business don't pay as wellas I say, why I can show you the money. "

"Got it with you?" said Bob. 

This question pleased the old fence, and gave him renewed courage. Hethought now that perhaps there was yet hope for him. 

"I have it in the house, " said he. 

"In cash?"

"Yes, and I can get it if you want to see it. "

"Don't see how you're goin' to get it, the way you are fixed now, "continued Bob. 

"Well, if you will not let me go for it, I can tell you where to findit. "

"Can you? Well, where is it?"

"It is in my bedroom, in the further end of the house. You will find itin the thick wallet, under my pillow. "

"Well, we will take your word for it, seein' we don't need the money foranything, and wouldn't take it nohow, " said the young detective, whodivined the purpose of the old fence. 

"But if you don't get it, how can I make you boys a present? You willnot allow me to go for it, " said the fence, fearing his scheme hadfailed him. 

"We don't want no present, so don't worry yourself about that. "

"We prefer taking you with us, rather than the present, " said Herbert. 

"Old man, " continued Bob, "your game didn't work. All you wanted was toget me out of the way so you could er layed Vermont out. But it warn'tno go. You was too anxious to give away money. I could see all the timewhat you was aimin' at. "

The old fence protested against this interpretation of his motives, butthe boys were too keen for him. Young Bob Hunter had been knocking aboutthe streets of New York too long to be very easily taken in by this oldGunwagner. His wits had been sharpened to a high degree in his longstruggle for bread, and his knowledge of human nature was as superior tothat of Herbert Randolph as the latter's general education was superiorto Bob's. 

[Illustration: GUNWAGNER IN THE HANDS OF THE POLICE. ]

Finding it impossible to work upon the sympathy of the boys, that buyingthem off was out of the question, and that the scheme to outwit them hadproved a flat failure, Gunwagner now turned to the last weapon which hecould hope to use with any possible effect. 

"So you have made up your mind to take me with you?" said he, lookinghard at Herbert. 

"Yes, " replied the latter, firmly. 

"You will make the biggest mistake of your life, if you attempt such anoutrage. "

"An outrage! Is that what you call it, when a detective takes a birdlike you in?" said Bob Hunter, in his characteristic manner. 

The old fence looked fiercely at him. 

"My friends are all around here, and I can raise a dozen of them beforeyou could get me half a block away. "

"We do not feel uneasy about your so called friends, " said youngRandolph. "But if you prefer it, we will send for an officer, and lethim take you. "

"If your friends go back on you the way Mortimer done tonight, when hetold you he would look out for himself, and let you fight it out alone, why, then I guess me and Vermont needn't bother much about your gang. "

Further intimidation was tried by Gunwagner, but all to no purpose, fornow the boys were in the act of fastening together the wrists of the oldfence, and binding them securely to a chair. When this had been done, sothat they no longer felt any insecurity, they took from his pocket thekeys to both doors leading to the street, and Bob Hunter started foran officer. Young Randolph remained with the prisoner, because he wasstronger than Bob, and therefore would be the better able to handle him, should he by any means get his hands loose. 

Now every hope had failed the old man. He saw nothing but Sing Singbefore him. His evil purpose had at last recoiled upon him, and he was aprisoner in the hands of one who but a few hours before had begged ofhim for mercy. 

While waiting for the return of Bob with the officer, Herbert askedGunwagner if the money he had made in crooked and unlawful ways hadbrought him happiness. He made no audible reply, but sat with his headbent low. An answer, however, was conveyed to our young hero by a silenttear that made its way slowly down the wrinkled and aged face of the oldman, whose life had been worse than wasted, for it had been an evilone. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

TOM FLANNERY IS HUNGRY. 

It was past midnight when Herbert Randolph and Bob Hunter reached theirroom. The old fence had meanwhile been taken to the station house byan officer. Both boys were sleepy and well nigh exhausted, so theyimmediately sought rest. 

Bob, however, was up at his usual hour in the morning, and off tolook after his paper trade. Business proved good with him on thisoccasion--unusually good--so that his profits amounted to quite a nicelittle sum. He therefore planned to give Herbert a good warm breakfast, something better than it had been their custom to eat. 

Presently Tom Flannery appeared. 

"You here, Bob?" said the latter, with surprise. "I thought you was donefor, sure. "

"What made you think that, Tom?"

"Why, because you didn't show up. "

"You didn't wait for me, did you?"

"Didn't I? Well, I should think I did, till near twelve o'clock, too, when I was so near froze I couldn't stay no longer; and Bob, I thoughtit was all up with you. "

"Why, Tom, you hadn't oughter staid. I told you to go home after you litthe fire. "

"I know you did, Bob, but I didn't feel like goin' home and leavin' youalone in that den. You see I thought you might need me. "

"Tom, you've got more sand than I thought you had. I wish I coulderfixed it so you coulder been on the inside too. "

"I wish you could, Bob. Was it excitin'?"

"Excitin'! Well, wasn't it, though! I never saw anything like it. But Isay, Tom, that was a great go. You done it splendid. "

"What's that, Bob?"

"Why, the fire act. I don't believe nobody could beat that. "

Tom enjoyed this praise hugely. 

"I wouldn't like to a' been in your place, Bob, " said he, "when you wasin that dark room, nor when old Gunwagner and that other feller washuntin' for you. "

"No, I thought you wouldn't, Tom, and I didn't want to be thereneither. "

"'Twas a big detective job, wasn't it, Bob?"

"Well, 'twas a pretty fair one, I guess. "

"And you got it all up yourself, " continued Tom, admiringly. "I wish Icould do things the way you do, Bob. "

"Well, you see, Tom, you hain't had so much experience as what I have, but you'll come out all right, and make a big detective, I know youwill. "

Bob stopped talking to sell a paper, and after making change andpocketing his profit, he continued:

"Now, Tom, I tell you what 'tis: you and me and Herbert will eatbreakfast together, when he comes down. "

"When will he be down?" asked Tom, his hand dropping instinctively uponhis empty stomach. 

Tom Flannery was known among his crowd of street lads as the hungry boy. He was always ready to eat, and never seemed to get enough food tosatisfy the cravings of his appetite. This invitation, therefore, wasvery welcome to him. 

"It's 'bout time for him now, " replied Bob, in answer to Tom's question. 

"I wish he would come, " said Tom, looking hungrier than usual. 

"He is probably making up sleep, " said the young detective. 

"How much sleep has he got to make up, Bob?" asked Tom, seriously. 

"I don't know exactly, but I guess pretty near a whole night. "

"A whole night!" exclaimed Tom, dubiously. "He ain't goin' to make itall up this morning, is he, Bob?"

Tom's hand rested suggestively upon his stomach again. 

"Shucks! Tom Flannery, if you ain't a idiot, I never saw one! To thinkHerbert Randolph would sleep all day! Didn't I tell you he would beright down?"

"So you did, Bob. I forgot that; but you see I wanted to be sure, causeI haven't had nothin' to eat yet today. "

Bob looked at his companion with an air of disdain, and made no reply. 

Tom, however, was not over sensitive, so he kept on talking aboutBob's adventure at the fence. In the course of half an hour he got thewhole story from the young detective. Bob not only told him his ownadventures, but gave him all of Herbert's experience, which he hadhimself learned from our hero. 

It was now about a quarter to nine. Tom looked suggestively at the bighands on the City Hall clock, but said nothing about young Randolph'snon-appearance. 

"I don't see what keeps him, " said Bob, knowing full well what Tom wasthinking about. 

"Nor I don't either, Bob. I guess he won't be down very early. "

"Well, there wasn't nothin' to bring him down early. "

"But you expected him, didn't you, Bob?"

"Of course I did, Tom Flannery. Didn't I ask you to eat breakfast withme and him?"

"Yes, you did, Bob, and that was what I was thinking about. "

"Well, what did you think about it?"

"I was wonderin' if you meant this mornin', or some other mornin'. "

Tom had hardly finished this remark, when Herbert Randolph approachedfrom the Broadway entrance and spoke to Bob. 

"This is Tom Flannery, what helped me do the detective act, " said thelatter, by way of introduction. "You know I told you about him. "

"Oh, yes, I remember, and I am glad to meet you, Tom Flannery, " repliedyoung Randolph, extending his hand to Tom. 

"So am I glad to see you, " said young Flannery; "me and Bob here havebeen waitin' for you more'n two hours. "

"Oh, Tom Flannery!" exclaimed Bob. "What are you talkin' that way for?'Tain't a quarter so much that we've been waitin', and you know it. "

"Seems like 'twas a half a day to me, any way, " protested Tom, with hishand again moving towards the seat of his digestion. 

"The trouble is with Tom Flannery that he is always starvin'. I neversee such a hungry boy, " explained the young detective. 

"I can't help it, " answered Tom; "I like to eat. "

Bob explained to Herbert that they had been waiting for him to join themfor breakfast. 

"I am sorry, " said young Randolph, "but I ate my breakfast on the waydown. "

Tom Flannery was disheartened. 

"Never mind, Tom, " said Bob; "we will have the breakfast some othermornin'--you and me and Vermont. "

When it was time for Mr. Goldwin to get down to business, our hero andthe young detective started for the banking house. 

A surprise awaited Felix Mortimer. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE RIVALS AT THE BANK. 

"Do you s'pose we will find that Mortimer feller at the bank?" askedBob, as he and young Randolph passed down Broadway towards Wall Street. 

"Very likely we shall, " responded our hero, absentmindedly. 

"If he has heard of old Gunwagner's arrest, you bet he won't be there. "

"The papers contained nothing about the arrest, did they?"

"No, not as I seen. "

"Then the chances are that he is there. "

"So I think. But what will you do, Vermont, if he is?"

"I don't know yet. "

"You won't lick him, will you?"

"Oh, no, that wouldn't be a wise policy to pursue. "

"But he deserves it. "

"So he does, but I can't afford to lower myself by fighting. "

"That's so, Vermont; but, all the same, I'd like to see you lay him outonce--the way you did at Gunwagner's--he deserves it. "

"He deserves to be punished, but I think the law will do that. "

"'Tain't quick enough, " said Bob, petulantly. "A feller gets all overhis mad before he gets any satisfaction out of law. "

"You are a comical chap, Bob, " said Herbert; "but you have been one ofthe best friends I ever knew. If you had not come to my rescue, I shouldprobably never have walked down this street again. "

"Oh, that's all right, " replied the young detective. "Don't say nothingabout it. "

The two boys had now reached the banking house of Richard Goldwin. Theirconversation, therefore, terminated as they entered the bank. 

Just as the door was opened to them, Mr. Goldwin came out of his privateoffice, and his eyes fell upon Herbert and Bob. 

"What do you mean, sir, by appearing in this bank again?" he asked, witha stern glance at young Randolph. 

It must be remembered that he believed the story told to him by FelixMortimer, and therefore looked upon Herbert with grave suspicions, oreven contempt. 

The banker's manner and implied insinuation wounded young Randolph'spride, and his cheeks became crimson. 

"If you are not already prejudiced, I think, sir, I can explain to yourentire satisfaction, " said our young hero, with a native dignity wellbecoming his manliness. 

"It's jest what I told you yesterday mornin', " put in Bob. "Foulplay--that's what it was. "

"I think I am not prejudiced to such an extent that I am incapable ofdealing justly with you, " replied Mr. Goldwin, giving no heed to Bob'sremark. 

"Thank you, " said Herbert. "I am sure you are not, and if you willlisten to me, I will explain everything. "

"A mere explanation from you, however, will not convince me. "

"It should do so, " replied Herbert, still further wounded by this coldremark. 

"Not at all, since you have deceived me once. "

"I have never deceived you, sir, " answered young Randolph, with spirit. 

"Of course you would say so, " returned the banker, coolly. 

"Most certainly I would, sir, when I am telling you the truth. "

"Have you any evidence to sustain your position?" asked Mr. Goldwin. 

"Yes, sir, " replied Herbert; "my friend here can testify that I have notdeceived you. He knows the whole story--the plot from first to last. "

Herbert Randolph's bold, straightforward manner impressed the bankerfavorably, and he now became less frigid towards him. 

"There has evidently been deception somewhere, " said Mr. Goldwin. "Whyany one should plot against you, with a view to getting you out of thisbank, I cannot understand. "

"I think Bob Hunter here can make it plain to you. He knows the wholescheme. "

"And it warn't no small scheme, neither, " responded Bob. "It's lucky foryou that we got on to it before it was too late. "

"What do you mean by this insinuation, young man?"

"Well, if you want to know, I'll tell you. Perhaps you remember I wasdown here yesterday to see you, and I told you somethin' was wrongthen--didn't I?"

"Yes. "

"And you didn't believe it, but just talked against Herbert Randolphhere. "

"But I had good cause for doing so. "

"Yes, if you think that stuff that Felix Mortimer give you was anycause, then you did have some; but he was jest lyin' to you, that's whathe was doin', and I know it; and what's more, I can prove it, " said Bob, boldly and bluntly. 

"You are making a strong statement, " replied the banker, somewhatbewildered. 

"I know I am, but I couldn't say nothin' too strong about that Mortimerfeller. "

"Felix Mortimer is in my private office. Dare you come in and face himwith these remarks?"

"You bet I dare--that's jest what I want to do. "

"You shall do so, then, " said the banker. 

Herbert Randolph and Bob Hunter followed him, at his invitation, intohis private room. 

CHAPTER XX. 

FELIX MORTIMER DISCOMFITED. 

Felix Mortimer sat at a desk facing the door, and was writing whenthe banker and the two boys entered the room. He did not look up tillHerbert and Bob had advanced several steps toward him, and stopped. Buthis eyes now met theirs, and he sprang to his feet like one suddenlysurprised by a lurking enemy. Herbert and Bob stood there for a moment, boldly facing him. Not a word was spoken on either side. 

The banker took a position where he could watch the effect of thisstrange meeting upon both parties. He saw the color fade from youngMortimer's face, and a look of unmistakable fear spread over it. Infact, his whole manner betrayed the alarm that now possessed him. 

In strong contrast to the appearance of this young villain was HerbertRandolph's frank, truthful look. He had no cause for fear. The peculiarfire that shone in his eyes revealed a meaning that was at onceimpressive and determined. Before him stood one who had wronged himoutrageously, stolen his position away from him, and blackened hischaracter with ingenious falsehood. 

Our hero thought of all this, and his blood boiled with manlyindignation. Had he been alone with Mortimer, I fear the latterwould have suffered then and there the penalty for his villainy. Butdiscretion was now the sensible course for Herbert, and he wiselyrestrained himself from an unbecoming demonstration of hostility. 

"Do you know these young men?" asked the banker, sharply, addressingyoung Mortimer. 

"I know one of them, sir--that is, I saw him here the morning youadvertised for a boy, " replied Felix, commencing to rally. 

"I recollect the fact. You refer to Herbert Randolph, I presume?"

"Yes, sir. "

"I think you told me something about his getting another position, andthis, you said, was probably the reason why he failed to continueworking at this bank. "

"Yes, sir, " replied Mortimer, with bold effrontery. 

"What have you to say to this young man's statement, Mr. Randolph?" saidthe banker. 

Felix Mortimer's manner had already raised Mr. Goldwin's suspicions, buthe wished to be doubly sure, and thus he proceeded carefully with theinvestigation. 

"His statement is wholly false, " was our hero's reply. "It was hismiserable villainy that deprived me of my liberty, and kept me away frommy work. "

Mr. Goldwin looked puzzled. 

"The plot thickens, " said he. "Give me your story. "

Herbert related how he had been victimized, telling the facts much as Ihave given them in the preceding chapters of this narrative. 

"Tell him about the knock out, " put in Bob, who evidently thought thisone of the best parts of the story. 

"What was that?" asked the banker. 

Herbert explained. 

"So that was what gave you the swollen jaw, was it?" said Mr. Goldwin, addressing Felix Mortimer in a severe tone. 

"No, it was not, " said he. "I told you what did it, and I don't proposeto hear any more lies from street fellows like these, " added Mortimer, contemptuously, and at the same time moving towards the door. 

"Stop!" said the banker, firmly. "You will not leave this room till thismatter is cleared up. "

Young Mortimer winced, and Bob Hunter looked up at Herbert, and smiledsuggestively. 

"Mr. Randolph, this fellow stated to me yesterday that you were not fromVermont, that you are an impostor. What have you to say to this?"

"I can only say that I told you the truth. "

"Have you any way of proving your statement?"

"Here is a letter that I received this morning from my mother, " saidHerbert, handing it to the banker. "This, I think, will sustain myword. "

"The envelope is postmarked Fairbury, Vermont, " replied Mr. Goldwin, scrutinizing it closely. 

"You may read the letter, " said our hero. "It will doubtless convinceyou of my truthfulness. "

It ran as follows:

 FAIRBURY, Vt. , Thursday, November 12th. 

 MY DEAR SON:

 Your letter reached us this evening, and it lifted a great load of anxiety from our hearts, for we could not help fearing some ill luck might have overtaken you--a stranger and an inexperienced boy in so great a city as New York. 

 Your father and I rejoice at your good fortune, and feel proud that our boy should be chosen by the banker from among so large a number of applicants for the same position. Your excellent start gives us fresh courage to fight the battle of life over again, and to try and regain our property, or so much of it as will be necessary to support us comfortably in our old age. 

 Your father's eyes filled with tears of joy when I read your letter to him, and he said I might tell you that he feels rich in the possession of a son who has health, energy, and good principles, and who has shown himself able to make his way in the world unaided. He thinks you now have an excellent opportunity for commencing a prosperous career. From what you wrote of Mr. Goldwin, the banker, we think he must be a very nice man, and we are heartily glad that you can have his influence thrown about you to strengthen you against the evils you should shun. 

 We were greatly amused at the picture you gave of Bob Hunter the newsboy. You must find him very entertaining. Write us some more about him. His droll talk reads like a novel. Your father laughed heartily at it. 

 Be sure and write us two or three times a week, for you know we are entirely alone now you are away. With love from your father and myself, I will say good by for today. 

 YOUR MOTHER. 

Mr. Goldwin commenced to read this letter aloud, but before he hadfinished it his voice choked, and he reached for his handkerchief withwhich to dry his moist eyes. 

The picture it presented of the Vermont father and mother, so deeplyinterested in their only boy, brought fresh to the banker's mind hisown parental home, and he saw himself once more bidding good by to hisfather and mother, as he left them and the old farm, a mere boy, to seeka livelihood in the great metropolis. 

Presently he overcame this emotion, and turning to young Randolph[TN:should be Mortimer], said, sternly:

"This letter, which I hold in my hand, not only proves Mr. Randolph'struthfulness, but it convicts you of a base falsehood. You deceived meby your artful lying, and now you have the effrontery to stand up beforeme and before this young man, whom you have so cruelly wronged, andboldly deny everything. You are the most polished young villain I everknew. 

"Young man, " continued the banker, addressing Bob, and without waitingfor Mortimer to reply, "what do you know about this matter?"

"I guess I know 'bout everything, " said the young detective, glad of achance to have his say. 

"You remarked that it was lucky that you found out something before itwas too late for us here at the bank, I believe?"

"Yes, sir, you are right. "

"Will you please tell us the facts?"

Bob related the conversation he had heard between old Gunwagner andFelix Mortimer, relative to bank robbing. 

"So that was your scheme in getting in here, was it? you young villain!"said Mr. Goldwin, angrily addressing Felix Mortimer. 

"I refuse to answer the charges made by these confederates. They aretelling what has no truth in it, and are deceiving you, as you willlearn to your sorrow, " replied Felix, still maintaining a good degree ofboldness. 

Richard Goldwin, however, was too good a judge of human nature to befurther imposed upon by the tricks of young Mortimer. 

"But you will be forced to answer to the charges sooner or later, sir, "said the banker. "The court will compel you to do so. "

The court!

These words made young Mortimer wince, and his nerve palpably weakened. He muttered some unintelligible reply--whether a threat or not nonepresent knew. 

"How came you to overhear this conversation between the old fence andthis fellow?" asked Mr. Goldwin of Bob Hunter. 

[Illustration: YOUNG RANDOLPH AND BOB HUNTER CONFRONT FELIX MORTIMER ANDCHARGE HIM WITH HIS VILLAINY. ]

The young detective here related the whole story, telling why hesuspected Mortimer, how he saw him at the bank in Herbert's place, howhe shadowed him up Broadway--told of the bootblacking scene, in whichhe got the essential facts from Peter Smartweed and Mortimer; relatedhis manner of gaining admittance to the fence, and told of the trick heplayed upon the old man and Felix--the trick that enabled him to carryout to success his scheme for liberating Herbert Randolph. 

"And you did all of this alone?" asked the banker, with genuineastonishment. 

"Yes, sir, " replied Bob, carelessly, as if it didn't amount to much. 

"I cannot realize it, " said Mr. Goldwin, admiringly. "A professionaldetective could not have done better, and probably would have fallen farshort of doing as well. "

"I didn't think nothin' of it, " returned Bob. "'Twas easy enough, and'twas kinder of excitin', too. "

"And you liked the excitement?"

Bob admitted that he did, but was very modest about his triumph, and wasnot disposed to look upon it as any great feat now it was all over. ButMr. Goldwin assured him, in most complimentary terms, that great creditwas due to him for the skill and bravery he had displayed. 

Meanwhile Felix Mortimer had been slyly inching towards a door that wasa little to his left; and now that Mr. Goldwin's attention was centeredupon young Bob Hunter, he seized the opportunity, and made a mad plungefor liberty. His movements, however, had been detected by HerbertRandolph, and he no sooner reached the door than the young Vermontergrasped him firmly by the collar, and jerked him back. 

Mortimer's effort to escape prompted Mr. Goldwin to sound the alarm fora policeman. An officer responded promptly, and immediately arrested theyoung criminal, and took him to the station house, where he was lockedinto a cell. 

"I was never so deceived in a boy in my life, " remarked the banker, witha troubled look, when the officer had gone with his prisoner. "He has aremarkably strong character, and had he taken the right course in life, would have made an able man. It always makes me sad to see a bright boy, just entering upon his career, start in a way that is sure to result indisgrace and ruin. "

"His associates have doubtless had a bad influence over him, " saidHerbert, as if trying to soften the boy's offense. 

"It is certainly praiseworthy in you, Mr. Randolph, to speak so kindlyof one who caused you so much suffering as that boy did, " returned Mr. Goldwin. 

"Well, since his evil purpose has recoiled upon himself, he is now thechief sufferer; and besides, I do not think he wanted to injure mefarther than to get me out of his way. And he knew no other plan, Isuppose, than to keep me a prisoner. "

"I am glad to see you view the matter so charitably, " said the banker, warmly, for he appreciated highly this glimpse of Herbert's character. 

"But what do you say to old Gunwagner?" put in Bob. 

"I think he is a heartless old wretch, " answered young Randolph, withfire in his eyes. "It is he who abused me so cruelly. "

"You say he, too, is locked up now?" asked Mr. Goldwin. 

"Yes. "

"Do you think he has any property?"

"I should judge so. In fact, he tried to buy us off when he found we hadhim cornered. "

"It is possible that you may be able to get damages for falseimprisonment, " said the banker, thoughtfully. 

"I had not thought of that, " returned Herbert. 

"Mind you, I said it was possible only, so do not have too great hopesof such a result. "

"No, I will not, and the damage was not much, unless I lost my situationwith you, " replied Herbert, somewhat anxiously. 

"No, you have not lost that, for I shall reinstate you at once. You haveproved yourself to be the sort of young man I desire in my business. "

"Thank you, sir, for your compliment, and especially for reinstating me. I should be very sorry to lose this position, and I know my father andmother would feel badly, too. "

"Do not worry about that, my boy. Employers are as anxious to getdesirable clerks as clerks are eager to be employed. But to return tothe matter of false imprisonment, I will state the case to my lawyer, and see what there is in it. Of course it would be no use to fight himif he is worth nothing. "

"He said he had plenty of money--enough to make us all rich, " put inBob, with some enthusiasm. "It would be a great act to make him comedown handsome. I'd like to see it done. "

"Those fellows usually have a lot of money, " said Mr. Goldwin, "and Iagree with Bob--I will call you by that name hereafter--that it would begratifying to recover damages. "

"That's right, I like to be called Bob--everybody calls me that. "

"Well, Bob, you are a character. I shall take a great interest in yourdevelopment, for I think you have done the smartest thing, in gettingyour friend out of old Gunwagner's clutches, that I ever knew a boy ofyour age to do. "

Bob's cheeks became highly colored. He had not been accustomed topraise, and such compliments as these from a rich banker were unwieldyfor him. 

"Tom Flannery helped me, " said the young detective, generously trying tothrow some of the glory upon Tom. 

"Tom Flannery! Who is he?"

"He is a fellow what sells papers too. Me and him worked this case uptogether. "

"What sort of a boy is he--sharp, like yourself, I suppose?"

"Well, he done some good work helpin' me, " replied Bob, evading thequestion as to Tom's keenness. 

The fact is that young Flannery was not wonderfully sharp; but Bob likedhim for his honest, good natured self, and, therefore, would only speakin praise of him. 

The banker drew Bob out, and learned of the fire act that Tom performedso satisfactorily. But his keen sense detected the truth of the matter, and he was satisfied as to where the real merit lay. 

"Bob, " said he, "your modesty and your efforts to throw much of thecredit on Tom Flannery are certainly becoming to you. I like you for thespirit you show in the matter. But, nevertheless, I recognize in you thechief of the undertaking--the one who planned and carried out the entirescheme. Now, here is a little present for you; I want you to take it andbuy you a good suit of clothes, so that you will be as well dressed asHerbert. I believe you room together?"

"Yes, we do, " said Bob. "But I don't want no present. I can earn somemoney to buy clothes with. "

"But I want you to take it, " replied Mr. Goldwin. "You have done a greatact of kindness to Herbert, and to me as well, for sooner or later wewould doubtless have suffered a loss by Felix Mortimer. "

Bob took the crisp new bills reluctantly--four of them, five dollarseach--twenty dollars--he had never held so much money in his hands atany one time before, and this was all his own. 

He felt bewildered. After a moment's pause, however, he said, "Mayn't Igive some of this to Tom Flannery?"

"I expected you would say that, " replied the banker, enjoying Bob'ssurprise, "so I retained a five dollar bill for Tom. Here it is; give itto him with my regards. He, too, did us a service in aiding you as hedid. "

Bob's joy was now beyond expression. He looked, however, thethankfulness that he could not find words to express. 

"You may go now, " said Mr. Goldwin, kindly. "I will keep you in mind, and see what I can do for you. Come and see me within a few days. "

Bob thanked Mr. Goldwin heartily, and left the bank, overflowing withhappiness. When the young detective had gone, Mr. Goldwin asked Herbertmany questions about him. 

"I think he is a promising lad, " said the banker. "I have taken a greatliking to him. He has a droll, comical way that is very pleasing. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

TWO YOUNG CAPITALISTS. 

"Is that you, Bob Hunter?" said Tom Flannery, his eyes opened wide withsurprise. 

"I should think it is, " laughed the young detective. 

"Say, Bob, where did you get 'em?" continued Tom, somewhat in doubt ofhis own senses. 

"Why, I bought 'em, of course. How does anybody get new clothes?"

"They are slick, though, ain't they, Bob?" said young Flannery, admiringly, "and they fit stunnin', too. You must er struck a snapsomewhere, Bob. "

"I should think I did, " replied the latter; "the best snap any er theboys ever struck. "

"Bob, you was always lucky. I wish I was as lucky as what you are. Inever strike no snaps, Bob. "

"Don't you?" said young Hunter, meditatively. 

"No, they don't never come my way, " responded Tom, dolefully. 

Bob turned the lapels of his coat back and threw out his chestponderously. 

"Tom, " said he, with the air of a Wall Street banker, "here's a five foryou, " taking a new, crisp bill from his vest pocket. 

"For me, Bob!" exclaimed Tom, incredulously. 

"Why, yes, of course it's for you. Why not?"

"I don't understand it, Bob, " said young Flannery, completely upset. 

"Why, it's one of them snaps. You said you never had any luck like me, so I thought I'd just give you some. "

"Bob, you're a dandy. I never see any feller do things the way you do. "

"Well, I do try to throw a little style into 'em, when it's handy to doit. "

"I should think you do. "

"You see, Tom, it don't cost no more to do things as they ought to be. Ibelieve in doing 'em right, that's what I say. "

[Illustration: "TOM, " SAID BOB, "HERE'S A FIVE FOR YOU. "]

"But, you see, Bob, believing in 'em and knowing how to do 'em is twodifferent things. Now I believe in 'em just the same as what you do, but I can't do 'em the same way. "

"Well, you ain't so old, Tom. "

"I know I ain't, but that don't make no difference, for when you was noolder than what I am, why you done things in a awful grand way. "

Bob here explained to Tom that the five dollar bill was a present to himfrom Richard Goldwin, the banker, and told him also about his own goodluck. 

"And he gave you all that money to buy these new clothes with! He is abully old fellow, ain't he, Bob?" said Tom Flannery, greatly astonished. 

"I should say so, " responded Bob. "But I didn't spend it all, though. "

"How much did you put up for 'em, Bob?"

"Fifteen dollars, that's all. "

"They are swell, though, I tell you, Bob, and you look like kind of amasher, " said Tom, criticising them carefully. 

"Well, I ain't no masher, but I think myself they do look kinder slick. "

"And you got five dollars left, too?"

"Yes, jest the same as what you have, Tom. "

"What you goin' to do with it, Bob?"

"I hain't thought about that yet. What you goin' to do with yourn?"

"I guess I'll keep it, Bob, till next summer, and put it up on theraces. "

"What do you want to do that for, Tom Flannery?" returned Bob, withdisgust. 

"Why, to make some money, of course. "

"Are you sure you will make it?"

"Of course I am, Bob. Nobody what knows anything at all can't lose whenhe has so much as five dollars to back him. It's them that don't havenothin' what gets broke on racin'. "

"You know all about it, I suppose?"

"Why, of course I do, Bob; I've made a stake lots of times. "

"And lost lots of times, too, I s'pose. "

"Well, that's because I didn't have enough capital. "

"But answer me this, Tom Flannery, " said Bob, pointedly: "You admit youdid get wiped out at bettin', do you?"

"Well, yes, I s'pose I did, Bob. "

"And you'll get broke again, if you go at it. I tell you, Tom, they allget left, them that bets on horse racing. "

"But don't some of them make slats of money? Answer me that. "

"They don't make no money what sticks to 'em. "

"What do you mean by that, Bob? I don't understand. "

"I mean that they lose it the same way they make it, so it don't stickto 'em. Do you see?"

"Yes, I see. But how's a feller like me goin' to make any money, Bob, ifhe don't bet any?"

"Now, Tom, you're gettin' to somethin' I've been thinkin' about, andI'll let you into the secret. You see, Tom, I don't believe in horsebettin' the way you do, but I ain't afraid to take chances all thesame. "

"What is it, Bob?" interrupted Tom, eager to get into the secret. 

"Wall Street, " replied Bob, striking the attitude of a money king. 

"Do you mean it, Bob?" asked young Flannery, incredulously. 

"Of course I mean it, Tom. There's piles of money down there. "

"I know there is, Bob, but how are fellers like you 'n' me going to getit?"

"Why, by speculatin', of course. How does any of 'em make it?"

"Them fellers are all rich, Bob. They didn't go down there the same aswhat we would go, with only five dollars, " replied Tom. 

"They didn't, did they? Well, tell me if Jay Gould, and the old manSage, and half a dozen more of them big fellers, didn't go into WallStreet without a cent?"

"I can't tell you, Bob; I never heard anybody say, " answered Tom, humbly. 

"Well, Tom Flannery, I should think you would find out such things. Don't you never want to know anything?"

"I ain't been thinkin' about Wall Street, and them fellers you speakabout, Bob, " apologized Tom. "But I wish you'd tell me about 'em, forI'd like to know how they made their money. "

"Well, I'll tell you some other time, " said Bob, with assumed ease. As amatter of fact, however, he did not know himself, but was not willing toadmit so much to Tom. He therefore decided to change the subject at oncebefore getting cornered. 

"Now, Tom, " he continued, "I'll tell you what it is. I've jest thoughtwhat we'll do, you 'n' me and Herbert. "

"What is it, Bob?"

"Well, you see we got knocked out of our breakfast this morning, Tom, soI think the best thing we can do is to have a big dinner tonight. "

"I think so too, Bob, " said Tom, eagerly. 

"You see, 'twould be a celebration of the way we worked the detectivebusiness. "

"So 'twould, Bob. That's a good idea, I think. "

"I think so, too, Tom, and we'll have a regular first class lay out. "

"It will be immense, Bob, I know 'twill, " said Tom, with enthusiasm. "Inever had a big dinner, Bob. "

"No, I should think you never did, but you won't be hungry, Tom, whenyou get done with the one we will have tonight. "

"I hope I won't, Bob. "

"So do I, " answered Bob, comically. 

"When will Herbert be here?" asked Tom, looking at the large _Tribune_clock. 

"It's time for him to show up now. "

"I should think so, too, " replied Tom, with an expression of doubt. 

He was thinking about that morning's experience when Herbert failed toappear till after he had breakfasted. 

In a little time young Randolph joined them. He was as much surprised asTom had been at the change made in Bob's personal appearance by hishandsome new suit. 

"You must go down and let Mr. Goldwin see you with it on, " said he. 

"When shall we start, Bob?" put in Tom Flannery, who couldn't see thepropriety in delaying dinner simply to discuss new clothes. 

"Are you so very hungry?" laughed Bob, good naturedly. 

"I should think I am, for I haven't had no dinner. "

"It don't make no difference, Tom, whether you did or not. You'd bestarvin' all the same. "

"Well, I can't help it; I think it's time to eat, don't you, Herbert?"

"Yes, it is about time for dinner, " replied our hero. "Are you ready togo, Bob?"

"Yes, but we won't go up to the Boss Tweed tonight, " replied the youngdetective, somewhat pompously. 

"Bob is goin' to ask us up town for a big lay out, " said Tom. 

Herbert looked doubtful. 

"That's so, " said Bob. "We will have kind of a blow out all byourselves. "

"And shall we do the town afterwards, as the bloods say?" asked Tom. 

"What does 'doing the town' mean?" asked Herbert. The expression was newto him. 

"It's goin' round and seeing the sights, " replied Bob. "But come, let'sbe movin'. We can talk about doin' the town while we are at dinner. "

"So I say, " said Tom, with characteristic hunger. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE GREAT BANQUET. 

"Gewhittaker! this is splendid, Bob. I didn't think we was coming to nosuch tony place as what this is, " said Tom Flannery. 

"Didn't I tell you it wa'n't no Jim Fisk or Boss Tweed ranch?" repliedBob. 

"So you did, Bob; but you see I didn't know about them big glass--whatdo you call 'em?"

"Chandeliers, " suggested Herbert. 

"Chandeliers, that's it; but ain't they stunnin', though?"

"Well, there ain't nothin' mean about 'em, I should think, " answeredBob. 

"No, nor 'bout anything here, " said Tom. "I never see so much styleslung round before, did you, Herbert?"

"I don't know, " answered young Randolph, carelessly. 

"Say, Tom, don't make so much fuss about this place. 'Tain't nothin';no, 'tain't nothin', Tom, beside some er the tony places further uptown. "

A waiter now came along and handed a bill of fare to Bob, and took awaythe glasses to fill them with ice. 

"Do them fellers always dress up so with a swallow tail on, Bob?" askedTom. 

"Yes, at a swell place, like this is, they do, " answered Bob. "Now thatwaiter he will be right back and want our orders. The first thing issoup, and there's three kinds--_potage Julienne_, _suprême_, and_consommé à la royale_. Which will you have, Herbert?"

"You may give me the _potage Julienne_, " replied the young Vermonter. 

"Say 'em again, Bob; I didn't quite catch 'em before, " said Tom. 

Bob smiled, and obeyed the request. 

"Why not have 'em all, Bob?" said Tom, eagerly. 

"'Cause 'tain't regular to do that way. "

"Well, they are all on there for us, ain't they?"

"They are on for us to take whichever one we want. "

"And I can't have but one?"

"No. "

"Well, I thought at these er--what do you call 'em?--dinners a fellerhad everything in the old bill, if he wanted it. "

"_Table d'hôte_, you mean, Tom Flannery, but you're way off, you are;nobody ever has everything. "

Tom looked disappointed, even sad. 

"Well, " continued Bob, "I'm waiting for your order. Which soup will youhave?"

"Which you goin' to have, Bob?"

"I'm goin' to have the _consommé_. "

"Then I'll take the other one, " said Tom. 

"The _suprême_?"

"That's him, " replied Tom. 

"Why do you prefer that?" laughed Herbert. 

"Well, you see, it sounds better. That one that Bob has took I can'tmake no sense out of it nohow, and I don't believe it's good to eat, either--anything with a name like that. "

[Illustration: THE GREAT BANQUET. ]

"But the name of your soup is not much better. "

"That's so, Herbert. Blamed if I know what they wants to put such stuffon fer a feller to eat fer, " said Tom, with an air of disgust. 

"Well, Tom, you may as well get used to these names, for you'll get alot of 'em before you get through this bill, " said Bob, laughing. 

"Them names don't go all the way through, do they, Bob?" asked Tom, alarmed. 

"Yes, plumb through to the end. "

"Well, that will spoil my dinner, then, for I don't know nothing aboutsuch words. "

"No, I guess it won't spoil your dinner, Tom; I'll bet you will eat likea hungry tramp before we get through. "

"Maybe I will, Bob Hunter, but I'd like to know what I'm eatin' all thesame, " replied Tom, somewhat indignant. He did not like to be comparedto a hungry tramp. 

"That's all right, Tom Flannery; now don't you get off your base sosudden like. You will think you never struck a lay out like this beforeyou get half way down the bill, " said Bob, trying to restore goodfeeling. 

"Well, I hope I will, that's what I say. A feller ought to get somethinggood when he has to wade through such blamed old names as these, thatdon't mean nothin'. "

"But they do mean somethin', jest as much as what our words mean to us. "

"Do you mean to tell me, Bob Hunter, that anybody uses these words?"

"Of course they do, Tom. They are French words, and French folks knowwhat they mean. "

Tom thought for a moment; then he said:

"I was way off, Bob. I thought it was some words jest made up for thisbill, 'cause you see I don't know nothin' about French. "

The waiter now reappeared, bringing with him two long rolls of Frenchbread, a supply of butter, and three glasses of ice water. 

Presently the soup was brought on. 

"Sail right in now, Herbert, you and Tom, " said Bob. "The next coursewill be right along. "

Tom took a few drops, timidly, then a larger portion--less timidly--andnow he put on a full head of steam and worked the spoon like a triphammer. 

When his plate was empty he said: "I think I struck it right, Bob; Iknew I hit the best name. "

"Why, was yours good, Tom?" replied Bob. 

"I should think it was, Bob. It was way up, that's what it was. You see'tain't always, Bob, that a feller can pick a winner the first time. "

"Now you're givin' us some more of your horse racin' expressions, Tom. Can't you never let 'em alone, 'specially at a tony dinner like thisis?" said Bob. 

"Well, I didn't think about that, Bob. I didn't mean to do nothin'wrong. But you see, Bob, I didn't know of no other way to get at it. This orderin' stuff by these blamed words is takin' chances--what I callbigger chances than bettin' on a horse race. "

Young Randolph and Bob laughed heartily at Tom's remarks. 

The next course was now put on the table. It came in a large platter. Three plates were placed before Bob, and he served the fish and potatoesin a very creditable manner. 

"Now comes the _entrées_, " said Bob. 

"What are them things, Bob?" said Tom, while ravenously devouring theportion before him. 

"Well, I was jest goin' to give 'em to you when you busted in on me, "replied Bob. "Here they are:

"_Fillet piqué. _

"_Fricandeau de Veau. _

"_Pâtés aux huitres. _"

"Can't a fellow get more'n one go at 'em, Bob?" said Tom, comically. 

"That's all, only one go, Tom; which will you have?"

"I'll take the first one, Bob. "

"The _fillet piqué_?"

"Yes, if that's the first one. "

"Well, 'tis; but, Tom, you're way off. You didn't pick no winner thistime, as you say, for that dish ain't no good. "

"Where did you get on to them blamed names, Bob? You're slingin' jest asmuch style here, too, as you did in the detective business. "

"Well, why wouldn't I know 'bout 'em, Tom? Didn't I work in one of theseplaces for a good while, and didn't I pay some attention to the waythings was done?"

"So you did, Bob; I didn't think about that. "

"I, too, have been surprised, Bob, to see how familiar you seemed withthe various dishes, " said Herbert. 

"Well, that's how it come. You see I picked it up. "

"But you are as much at ease serving the dinner as I am at eating it. "

"How much?" said Bob, feeling in his pocket for loose change. 

"What do you mean?" asked Herbert, seriously. 

Bob smiled, and Tom burst into a characteristic laugh. It was the firsttime since the dinner commenced that he had seen the funny side ofanything. Tom Flannery was not given to looking upon the comical side. He was too credulous for that; but when anything did strike him asfunny, and he made up his mind to treat it as such, the outburst oflaughter that followed--laughter that was rich and childlike--wassomething to do one good. 

Now, there was nothing especially bright or funny about Bob's remarkthat should have caused Tom to become so hilarious. In fact, it was moreHerbert's serious manner, than what Bob said, that set him off. 

"'Twas an old chestnut, any way, Bob, " as Tom said the next day; "butHerbert looked so honest about it, jest as if you wasn't talkin' jokes, that it jest made me lay myself out and shout. I couldn't er stopped, Bob, ef it had killed me. "

When the laughter had subsided, Bob explained his joke to Herbert, andthen said:

"You have not told me what you will have. Here comes the waiter for ourorders. "

"You order 'em, Bob, " said Tom. "You know what's good. "

"That is a good suggestion, Tom, and meets with my approval, " remarkedHerbert. 

Bob accordingly ordered for all three, and his selection gave excellentsatisfaction to his guests. 

The next course was simply maccaroni, cooked in the Italian style, withtomato dressing. 

"This is bang up, Bob, " said Tom Flannery, smacking his lips. "ThemEyetalians are some good after all, ain't they?"

Roast duck followed the maccaroni, with jelly, and fine cut celery withdressing. 

Then came ice cream, followed by cheese--_fromage de Brie_. 

"Bob, there's somethin' wrong about this, " said Tom, seriously, referring to the last course. "Jest get on to that piece, will you?" andTom passed his portion to Bob. 

"Don't be a fool, now, Tom Flannery, " said Bob, with assumeddispleasure, while he struggled hard to keep from giggling. 

"Well, I ain't no fool, Bob; I guess I know when I know a thing, " saidTom, indignantly. "I tell you that piece is all spoilt, " and, to makesure of his statement, he took it in his fingers, and without regard togood manners placed it close to his nose, and gave it a genuine test. 

Bob threw himself back in the chair, and exploded with laughter. Herbertdid likewise. But Tom was mad. He thought Bob had played a trick on him, and he said:

"I don't intend to be imposed upon in any such way as what this is, BobHunter. I'll show you that I can put up jobs, too, ef you think it is somuch fun. "

Now Brie cheese is somewhat soft, so much so that it many times adheresslightly to whatever it touches. Tom had rashly taken it up in hisfingers, and now, while breathing forth malice and threats against Bob, he chanced to put his fingers up to his mouth. This brought them againin close proximity to his nose. 

"Gewhopper!" yelled Tom, as he thrust his hand into his trousers pocketwith a view to better protecting his nose. "I wouldn't er thought thisof you, Bob Hunter!"

Both Bob and Herbert were convulsed with laughter, and were holdingtheir sides from pain. 

From the fact that they laughed so uncontrollably, and that they didnot deny his charge, Tom felt sure that he had been made the butt ofa foul joke, and he resented it spunkily. This of course only made thesituation more ridiculous, and the more Tom said, the harder Bob andHerbert laughed. At length, however, Bob quieted down sufficiently toremark:

"Tom, listen to me. You're the biggest fool I ever see. "

"Yes, you think you've made a fool of me, don't you, Bob Hunter? But youhain't, for I got on to your game before I got any er that durned stuffinto my mouth. "

"Oh, don't you be so ignorant, Tom Flannery. The trouble is with you, you're a chump, you don't know nothin' about livin' at high toned placeslike this is. "

"No, nor I don't want to nuther, Bob Hunter. Ef that stuff is what youcall high toned livin', why I don't want no more of it in mine. I'll----"

In the excitement of the conversation, Tom forgot to keep his handhoused up longer in his pocket, and now the tips of his fingersunconsciously found their way close to his nose again. 

This was what caused Tom to break off his sentence so abruptly. Hedidn't say anything for a minute, but he looked a whole volume ofepithets. 

Herbert and Bob started in on another round of laughter that stillfurther irritated Tom. 

"I'm goin', " said he, slinging his napkin savagely upon the table; "Iwon't stand this business no more, Bob Hunter. "

"Sit down, Tom, " commanded Bob; "there's more to come yet. You hain'thad no coffee yet, nor nuts and raisins. "

Tom immediately replaced the napkin in his lap, and pulled up to thetable again. Coffee, nuts and raisins! Oh, no, Tom Flannery couldn'tallow his grievance to deprive him of these luxuries!

"Now, Tom, " said Bob, "I jest want to show you that you've made afool of yourself, and that we hain't made no fool of you. Of course wecouldn't help laughin' to see you actin' so redickerlous, Tom, and allabout a little piece of cheese, too. A feller would er thought, Tom, that you'd been dumped in a sewer, to see you carry on; but when you getone er them crazy notions in your head, why, there's no doin' anythingwith you, but to let you sail in and enjoy yourself. "

Bob then ate his choice bit of Brie with a keen relish, much to thesurprise of Tom, and I may say Herbert as well, for the latter's tastehad not been educated up to the point where he could eat such food. 

At length reconciliation was reached, and Tom was once more happy. Whenthe coffee had been drunk, the three boys, while eating nuts andraisins, discussed the problem of money making. 

"How about the Wall Street racket?" remarked Tom. 

"You refer to speculating, I suppose?" replied Herbert. 

"Yes. You see my capital ain't earnin' me nothin'. "

"Well, I have had very little time to think about that since we firstspoke of it. In fact, I am not in favor of the idea. "

"What! not in favor of spekerlatin'?" said Bob, with astonishment. 

"Nuther am I, " put in Tom, wisely; "I don't think it's safe. "

"But you think it's safe to bet on horse racin', don't you, TomFlannery?"

"Well, it's safer'n what spekerlatin' is, that's what I think, BobHunter. "

"Humph! You know a lot, don't you, Tom Flannery?"

"No, I don't know a lot about them Wall Street schemes, ef that's whatyou mean; but I guess I can pick a winner at racin'. "

"Well, ef you don't know nothin' about spekerlatin', how are you goin'to use any judgment? Tell me that now, Tom Flannery. "

"You kinder want to bulldoze me, don't you, Bob Hunter? You've got yourhead sot on spekerlatin', and you want to make me think jest like youdo. "

"You tire me, Tom Flannery, " said Bob, with a great show of disgust. "I'd try and have some sense, ef I was you. "

"All right, Bob, then I'll try 'n' have some sense--I'll do jest as yousay, and spekerlate till my five dollars is all blowed in. Now, doesthat satisfy you, Bob?"

Tom Flannery had almost always yielded readily to Bob's judgment. Thissudden independence of opinion, therefore, was a surprise to youngHunter. 

"Why, that's all right, Tom, " said he, instantly changing his attitude. "I don't care nothin' about your spekerlatin' ef you don't want to; butI want to make some money, that's what I do, and I thought you did too, Tom. "

"So I do, Bob, so I do; but you see so many folks loses money down therein Wall Street, and some of them big fellers, too, with heaps of money, just dead loads of it, to back 'em. "

"Well, that's so, Tom, I know they loses sometimes, but don't lots of'em make money? Now answer me that. "

"Yes, you are right, Bob, they do some of 'em strike it rich, but as yousaid about the racin' I guess the money ain't good money, fer it don'tstick to 'em. "

"Well, I should think it stuck to Jay Gould, didn't it?"

"Yes, he is one of the few successful ones, " said Herbert, answering thequestion for Tom. 

"Yes, but there are lots and lots of them kings of Wall Street, "persisted Bob, who had a strong desire to become a speculator. 

"So there are, Bob, " replied Herbert, "but they do not hold their rankthroughout their lives. A man that is called a king in Wall Street oneday, may be a beggar the next day. "

"Think of that, Bob, " put in Tom Flannery, exultantly. 

"Well, I know, but then them kings don't all go up like that. "

"But the majority of them do. If you will get a book that gives thehistory of Wall Street, you will be surprised to see how thousands, hundreds of thousands, and even millions, are swept away almost withoutwarning. "

"Whew! just think of it! A whole million dollars!" exclaimed Tom. "Say, Herbert, how much is a million dollars? It must be a whoppin' big pile, that's what I think. "

"A million dollars--let me see, Tom, how I can explain it so that youwill comprehend its----"

"So I will what?" interrupted Tom, doubtful of the meaning of the word"comprehend. "

Herbert made this clear, and then said:

"Now, Tom, you have a five dollar bill, and----"

"Yes, and it's a new one, too, crisp as a ginger snap, " interruptedyoung Flannery. 

"All right, then, a new five dollar bill. Now, suppose you hadaltogether twenty bills just like this one, you would have how muchmoney?"

"Can you tell, Bob?" said Tom, grinning. 

"Why, of course I can!" replied Bob, throwing his head back, proudly. 

"Well, let's see ef you can. "

"One hundred dollars, " answered Bob. 

"I guess that's right, Herbert, a hundred dollars; but I never see somuch money all at one time, did you, Bob?"

Herbert proceeded with the illustration by saying:

"Then, Tom, you understand how many five dollar bills it takes to makeone hundred dollars. Now, it would require ten one hundred dollar billsto make one one thousand dollar bill. "

"Gewhopple! that's climbin' up, ain't it, Bob?" exclaimed Tom, incredulously. 

"Oh, but that's nothing, " said Herbert. "Just listen: It would take ahundred one thousand dollar bills to make one hundred thousand dollars, and it would require ten times one hundred thousand dollars to make onemillion. "

"Well, that's fur enough, " said Tom, scratching his head. "Don't give meno more tonight, for I can't take it in no way. A million dollars; andyou say some er them kings loses so much money as all this in almost notime?"

"Why, yes; perhaps in a single day, " answered Herbert. 

"And you think, Bob Hunter, that we could go down there with only fivedollars apiece and lay out them kings and scoop the boodle, do you? Now, answer me that. "

"Well, it does seem kinder like takin' chances, ef them fellers losesmoney like that. "

"Of course it does, Bob, fer you see we wouldn't have but one go at thegame with only five dollars; would we, Herbert?"

"Five dollars wouldn't go very far, for a fact, " replied Herbert, "andin my opinion it would be lost very quickly. "

"But I've heard of fellers that went down there without no money, andthey made loads of it. "

"Very true, " said Herbert; "but did you ever hear of the thousands thatwent down there and came away without a cent?"

"No, I never did, " admitted Bob, frankly. 

Tom smiled quietly, for he felt that Bob would have to acknowledgehimself mistaken, and at last come over to his side. 

"Well, now, there is the very point, " said Herbert, "and it is theone that nobody stops to think about. A report is circulated thatsome one makes a big haul in Wall Street, and, without thinking about thethousands of people that lose money there, a thousand or two more peopletry their luck at speculating, thinking, each one of them, to make agreat haul too. But the result is the same as it was with the otherthousand speculators--the money is swallowed up, and gone forever. "

"What becomes of it all?" asked Bob, much impressed by Herbert's wellfounded argument. 

"Well, the most of it goes into the pockets of the kings. "

"Then I shouldn't think them kings would get busted, as you say theydo, " said Bob, always keen at making a point. 

"They would not if they had to deal only with the small speculators, such as you would like to be. If that were the case they would winnearly every time. But kings are the ones who break kings. "

"Oh, I see now, " said Bob. "There are a lot of 'em, and they jest go foreach other. Is that it?"

"Yes, that is the way they do it. "

"Well, I guess you are right, then, Herbert--you and Tom. "

"I feel sure I am. Mr. Goldwin talked with me about it today, and toldme never to speculate. "

"But he speculates, " said Bob, "and he is worth a lot of money. "

"Oh, no, never. "

"What's he call himself a broker for, then?"

"Why, a broker is not necessarily a speculator. A broker is one who buysand sells stocks or bonds for some one else--for a speculator, and hegets his commission or pay for doing the business. "

"Well, I guess I was way off, Herbert. I thought all of them brokers wasspeculators, and I knew lots of 'em was solid with money. "

"Yes, that is the way of it, " replied Herbert. "The broker makes themoney and the speculator loses it, usually. "

"Don't brokers never lose nothin', Herbert?" asked Tom. 

"No, not unless they trust some one who fails to pay them. "

"Well, I thought you would get sick er spekerlatin', Bob, and I'm gladyou've done it before you're broke, " said Tom Flannery. "I don't want nospekerlatin' for me. "

"No, but you'd like a go at horse racin' all the same, Tom Flannery, "said Bob. 

"No, I wouldn't nuther, Bob, fer you talked me out er bettin' and intospekerlatin', and now Herbert here has jest upset the spekerlatin' idea, so I'm out of it all, Bob. "

"Good, " said Herbert; "I am glad you have come to so wise a decision. "

"So am I, " said Bob, heartily. 

"So am I, " echoed Tom, with equal fervor. 

"But now, " said Bob, "what are we goin' to do with our money? It ain'tearnin' us nothin', you see. "

"I think the best plan, Bob, " said Herbert, thoughtfully, "would befor you and Tom to put your money in the savings bank. There it will besafe, and will be earning a little interest all the time. Let it remainthere until we see a chance to invest it to good advantage, and in themeantime add as much to it as possible. "

"I never thought of that before, " said Bob. 

"Nuther did I, " added Tom. 

"Strikes me 'tain't a bad scheme, " continued Bob. "What do you say, Tom?"

"Well, I don't see no great money in it, anyhow, " answered youngFlannery. "But if Herbert says it's the best thing, why I s'pose 'tis. "

"It is the best plan, I am sure, " said young Randolph. "Very fewspeculators ever come out rich. The men who gain wealth are those whoinvest their money carefully, and put it where it will be safe. "

CHAPTER XXIII. 

BOB HUNTER'S AMBITION. 

On the following day, after the paper trade of the morning was over, Bob and Tom, acting upon young Randolph's advice, went to the Emigrants'Industrial Savings Bank, and deposited each five dollars. They felt veryproud as they came out into Chambers Street with their bank books. 

"It's a starter any way, " said Bob. 

"I've been thinking over what Herbert said, and I guess between you'nme, Tom, he is 'bout right. "

"That's what I think too, Bob, " replied young Flannery, for aside fromthe matter of betting on horse racing and speculating, he always agreedwith Bob. 

"I think we was in big luck, Tom, when we run on to Herbert Randolph. "

"I think so, too, Bob; but why do you think so?"

"Why do I think so! Well, ef that ain't a queer question, Tom Flannery. Would you a' had that bank book now, with your name, Thomas Flannery, inplain writin' writ across it, I'd like to know, ef it hadn't been forVermont?"

"No, I wouldn't. That's so, Bob, I wouldn't, fer to be honest with you, Bob, I think I'd put it on racin'. "

"So you would, Tom, ef you'd had it, but you wouldn't er had it. "

"Well, I never thought of that, Bob, but it's so, ain't it?"

"I should say it is, and I wouldn't er had my bank book or these newclothes either. "

"And the big supper, Bob?"

"That's so, Tom, and the big supper too. I tell you, Tom Flannery, 'twasgreat luck when we struck Vermont. "

[Illustration: BOB AND TOM COMING OUT OF THE BANK. ]

"That's so, Bob, so it was. But say, Bob, don't you think 'twas kinderlucky for Herbert when he fell in with you?"

"I don't know 'bout that, Tom. How do you figure it?"

"Why, I figures it in this way, Bob; ef it hadn't been fer you he wouldbe down in that old Gunwagner's cellar now. "

"Well, that's so, Tom, but he has more than paid me up, though. "

"How did he do it, Bob?" asked Tom eagerly. 

"Ain't he helping me right along, I'd like to know?"

"I hain't heard much about it, Bob. What has he done for you?"

"Yes, you have heard about it, too, Tom Flannery. Didn't I tell you howhe teaches me every night?"

"Oh, yes, you told me about that, Bob, but that ain't much--'tain't likedoin' the detective business, is it?"

"Well, no, of course it hain't, but it's just as good, Tom, and a gooddeal more so, I think. "

"Well, I don't think no such thing, Bob. "

"Well, ef I do, that's all right, ain't it? I tell you, Tom, 'tain'tevery feller that can do the teachin' act. "

"Nuther can every fellow do the detective business. Ef you want to knowwhat I think, Bob Hunter, I'll tell you. "

"All right, Tom, sail in. "

"Well, I think, ef I was you, I'd jest let this learnin' business go, and I'd make myself a detective. No feller could put more style into itthan what you could, Bob. "

"Tom, you're way off again. A feller can't make no kind of a detective, nor nothin' else, neither, unless he knows somethin'. I guess I know, and Herbert says so too. "

"Well, I hain't got no learnin', " replied Tom, somewhat pompously, as ifto prove by himself that Bob's statement was untrue. 

"I know it, " said Bob, and stopped short. 

Tom looked at him doubtfully. 

"Then you might's well say right out that I won't make nothin', BobHunter, " said he, his manner resembling that of one not a littleindignant. 

"Well, I said what I said, Tom, and if it fits you, why then am I toblame?"

Tom made no reply. 

"It's no use for you to get mad, Tom. Anybody would tell you jest thesame as what I did. Now, the thing for you to do, Tom, is ter get somelearnin'--you can do it. "

"Do you think I could, Bob?" replied Tom, coming round to Bob's views, as he almost always did. 

"Why, of course you could, Tom; ain't I doin' it?"

"Well, yes, I s'pose you are, Bob, but then you can do 'most anything. "

"That ain't so, Tom. You can do it jest as well as what I can, ef youonly try. "

"I never thought about that before, Bob, " said Tom, thoughtfully. "Whocould I get to learn me?"

"You mustn't say 'learn you, ' Tom. Herbert says that hain't right. "

"What is it, then, Bob?"

"He says I must say 'teach me, ' because I've got to do the learningmyself. "

"Well, that's too much for me, Bob; I want to start in on somethin'easier. "

At length this discussion ended by Tom falling in with Bob's opinion asusual, and by his agreeing to commence at once attending an eveningschool. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

A VISIT TO THE BANKER'S HOUSE. 

The disturbing elements that had produced the somewhat dramatic andextraordinary scenes of the last week were now apparently quiet. Butwere they actually so? This is the question that Herbert Randolph andBob Hunter asked themselves--a question that caused them much anxiety. 

Felix Mortimer, to be sure, was in the Tombs awaiting his trial. But thegranite wall and the great iron doors were alike powerless to imprisonhis mind. He was as free as ever to think and to plot. What schemes ofrevenge might not then be planned by this boy whose hatred for HerbertRandolph now undoubtedly burned more fiercely than ever? And Gunwagner, his companion in crime, was free to carry out any plan that might beagreed upon between them. He had given bonds to appear when wanted bythe court, something that Felix Mortimer was unable to do. This is whythe latter was still locked up, while the old fence was allowed histemporary freedom. 

Except for the constant anxiety that Herbert and Bob felt over thismatter, everything went smoothly with them. Papers sold briskly, workat the bank was congenial, and they had already become much interestedin each other. The days flew by quickly, and they looked forward tothe evenings, which they spent together as a time for enjoyment andimprovement. As often as Tom Flannery could leave his evening school hejoined them, and he was always welcome. No one could help liking him, hewas so simple and honest. How keenly he enjoyed an evening with Herbertand Bob in their room, or strolling about the great city, as theynot infrequently did! Their slender means would not warrant them inattending the theater often. Occasionally, however, they managed to getinexpensive admission tickets to a really good play. Bob Hunter usuallyprocured them as a reward for some service he had given during the day, when his paper trade did not demand his attention. Many very good freelectures, too, were open to them, and they seldom failed to improve thisopportunity. The Young Men's Christian Association building, with itsfine library and gymnasium, proved a very attractive resort to thesethree boys, whose happiness, though they lived in the most humble way, was doubtless equalled by few boys in the great metropolis, howeverluxurious their home and surroundings. 

One evening in particular young Randolph found especially enjoyable. Itcame about in this way. Mr. Goldwin had a slight attack of rheumatismthat caused him to remain at home. He sent a note to his office sayinghe should not be at the bank on that day, and requesting Herbert to cometo his house late in the afternoon, and to bring with him a report ofthe day's business, and whatever mail it would be desirable for thebanker to see. 

The young Vermonter read the note eagerly, and then immediately didthe same thing over again. A peculiar pleasure shone in his eyes as helooked doubtingly at the little piece of paper. And now he saw a veryattractive picture--a rich family carriage into which a charminglypretty girl was being helped by a blushing boy. He wondered why she hadnever been at the bank since that time, and speculated dreamily upon hischance of seeing her at her father's house. 

Thus the day wore away, and at the close of business hours youngRandolph hurried from the bank, taking with him what he had beenrequested to bring. 

At City Hall Park he stopped and informed Bob Hunter of his mission, andthen went quickly to his room to put himself into the most presentableappearance possible with the somewhat scanty resources of his wardrobe. 

His heart beat fast with expectations and fears as he ascended the brownstone steps of Mr. Goldwin's house. 

"Good evening, Mr. Randolph, " said the banker, greeting Herbert verycordially. "I hope you have a good report of today's transactions forme. "

"Yes, I think this statement of the transactions will please you, "replied young Randolph politely. 

"Excellent, " exclaimed the banker with a smile of satisfaction, ashe read the report. "You have done a splendid day's work. The marketmust have been unusually active. Why, here is a transaction of twentythousand shares by one house alone--great customers, Breakwell & Co. , great customers, bold men--not afraid of anything. "

"They certainly seem to be very enterprising, " remarked Herbert, feelingthe necessity of saying something, and that that something should concurwith his employer's views. 

"Most assuredly they are, " answered the banker, warming to the subject. "Why, if we had more houses like Breakwell & Co. , Wall Street would seeno dull days--no, sir, none at all. On the contrary, it would just humwith activity. "

"I suppose they are perfectly good, Mr. Goldwin, " remarked Herbert, notknowing what better reply to make. 

"Good? Why, they are rated A1, and are reported to be very rich, "replied the banker. 

"Did they make their money by speculating?"

"Yes, I understand so. "

"Are they sure of keeping it if they continue to speculate?"

"Well, now, you are asking me a difficult question. Nothing, you know, is certain in Wall Street. "

[Illustration: HERBERT'S FIRST VISIT TO THE BANKER'S HOUSE. ]

Before Herbert had time to reply, dinner was announced. The questiontouching the reliability of Breakwell & Co. Was immediately dropped, and in its place arose the unexpected problem whether or not he shouldaccept the banker's invitation to dine with him and his family. He wouldhave quite as soon thought of receiving an invitation to dinner from themayor himself. It was quite natural, therefore, that he should offersome ridiculous reason why he should be excused, when, as a matter offact, he would have much rather served another term of imprisonment atold Gunwagner's than lose this opportunity. 

"Come right along" commanded Mr. Goldwin, himself leading the way. 

Herbert followed the banker into the parlor, where he was introduced tohis employer's wife and daughter. 

He found himself blushing even more profusely than when he had handedRay Goldwin into her carriage, at the close of his first day's servicefor her father. This heightened color, too, seemed to be reflected uponher cheeks, and her manner indicated a slight but not unnaturalembarrassment. 

Herbert had thought that the dinner given by Bob Hunter was about asgood as could well be served, but this one proved in every respect muchthe better; and notwithstanding his nervousness and lack of ease, undercircumstances so unfamiliar, he enjoyed the meal greatly. 

While Herbert Randolph could laugh at the drollery and peculiar streetlanguage of Bob Hunter and Tom Flannery, he nevertheless found a higherdegree of pleasure in the conversation of this intelligent and refinedfamily. 

"Papa told us about your imprisonment, Mr. Randolph, " said Ray, lookingwonderfully pretty, as Herbert thought. "It must have been dreadful. "

"It was an unpleasant experience, " replied young Randolph, lightly; "butI came out all right. "

"Ah, that reminds me, " said Mr. Goldwin, "that one of the letters youbrought me was from my attorney. In it he expressed the opinion that youcan recover damages from the old fence for false imprisonment. I wouldtherefore advise you to place the matter in his hands at once, and havehim push it. "

"You mean put it into the hands of your lawyer?"

[Illustration: "YOU EMBARRASS ME, " SAID HERBERT, BLUSHING. ]

"Yes. "

"I appreciate very highly your interest in my behalf, Mr. Goldwin, and Iwill do as you say, " replied Herbert. 

"Wouldn't it be splendid if you could get damages from that dreadful oldman?" said Ray, with enthusiasm. 

Thus the conversation ran on, and before the dinner had been finished, Herbert felt himself quite well acquainted with both Mrs. Goldwin andRay. He had tried to convince himself that he did not care for girls, and he thought he had succeeded well in doing so. But for someinexplicable reason, his imaginary objections to the sex in generaldid not stand long against Ray Goldwin in particular. 

Her bright blue eyes, brimful of spirit and laughter, seemed to detecthis aversion, and she aimed, he thought, to show him that he haddeceived himself. 

After the meal had been finished all repaired to the library, where, after a half hour of social converse, Herbert wrote several letters forMr. Goldwin at his dictation. Ray sat opposite him with the purpose ofreading, but as a matter of fact she did not progress very fast with thestory. 

"Would you be willing to write in my autograph album, Mr. Randolph?"said she, somewhat timidly, when he had finished her father's letters. 

"Yes, I will do so with pleasure, " he answered. 

"I shall be proud of such pretty writing, " returned Ray, handing him thebook. 

"You embarrass me, " said he, blushing. 

"I don't see why, " laughed Ray, enjoying young Randolph's modesty. 

"Well, I am not accustomed to compliments, especially from--er----"

"From young girls, " suggested Mrs. Goldwin, smiling. 

"Thank you, " returned Herbert; "I was hesitating whether to say 'girls'or 'young ladies. '"

"Oh, say girls, by all means, " replied Mrs. Goldwin. "We don't want Rayto become a young lady too soon. "

"I don't blame you, " responded our hero, half seriously. 

"Why, Mr. Randolph, " said Ray, shaking her dainty finger at him, "Ibelieve I would not have asked you to write in my album if I hadsupposed you would say that. "

"Well, it is not too late yet, for you see I have not touched the bookwith the pen, " laughed Herbert. 

"Oh, but I would not want to disappoint you. You know you said it wouldgive you pleasure to do so. "

"So it would, but I would rather sacrifice this pleasure than feel thatyou would be sorry you had given me the invitation. "

Without further parley Herbert wrote in the album--wrote so prettilythat he was roundly complimented by all. 

Mrs. Goldwin and Ray were now summoned into the drawing room to receivea caller, and presently young Randolph took his leave, and started forhis room with a very light and happy heart. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

TOM FLANNERY'S SICKNESS. 

Bob Hunter was too much surprised by the fact that Herbert was going toMr. Goldwin's house to tell him of his own anxiety about Tom Flannery. The latter had not, as Bob learned, been seen for two days at hisaccustomed place. That he should be away one day was not particularlystrange, for he not infrequently got odd jobs to do that took him toanother part of the city, or possibly to some of the near by suburbs. Two days' absence, however, was so unusual for him that Bob Hunterbecame anxious, fearing that possibly the vengeance of old Gunwagner andhis companion in crime had fallen upon poor, unsuspecting Tom. Thisthought having suggested itself to him, his previous anxiety speedilyturned to a feeling of alarm. 

He therefore left his place of business as early as possible, and aftera hurried supper went quickly to Tom Flannery's home, which was in alarge office building on Broadway, very near Bowling Green. The latter'smother was janitress of the building. Her duties were to keep it clean, and to look after the interests of the owner. For these services shereceived a trifling money reward, and was allowed to occupy two smallrooms at the top of the building. Here Mrs. Flannery and Tom made theirhome, which, though humble, was very neat. 

Bob knocked softly at the door, out of breath from climbing so manyflights of stairs, and with sore misgivings for the safety of his youngcompanion. The door was opened presently by a woman of middle age, who, as Bob saw at a glance from her extraordinary resemblance to Tom, wasthe newsboy's mother. He had never seen her before, but the honest, trustful look so characteristic of his young friend shone prominentlyin Mrs. Flannery's face. 

"They have got him, poor Tom, " said Bob to himself with beating heart, as he saw Mrs. Flannery's grief. 

"Are you not Master Bob Hunter?" said the woman, speaking first--afteran awkward pause; for the visitor, who had been so bold a detective, wasnow so distressed that he knew not what to say. 

"Yes, I am Bob Hunter, " was the soft reply. 

"And you are come to see my boy--my poor Tom?" said the woman, pressingBob's hand warmly, and struggling vainly to keep back the tears. 

"Is he here?" asked Bob, dumfounded by the contradictory state ofthings; for it was apparent from the woman's question that Tom was athome, and, he being at home, why such grief?

"I'm so glad you came to see him, for he thought so much of you, MasterBob, " said Mrs. Flannery, now giving way entirely to her feelings. 

"I would have come before if I had known----"

"I know you would, I know you would, " interrupted the woman betweensobs, "and he asked so many times for you, and now to think that you arehere and he won't know you. Oh, my poor Tom!"

"I don't blame you for being proud, Bob. I wish I had such a case too, but then I couldn't handle it not the way you could, Bob. None of thefellers could, not one of 'em, Bob, for you do everything in such agrand way, you know. "

These words, so familiar yet so ominously strange, fell upon Bob Hunterlike a messenger of death. 

"Oh, what is it, Mrs. Flannery? What has happened to Tom?" cried he, pale with fright. 

"It's his head, Master Bob--gone since morning--rambling on just likethis--detectives, and I don't know what all. "

"Have you had a doctor to see him?" asked Bob, his mind turning quicklyto practical measures. 

"Yes, and he says it's pneumonia, and a very bad case, " answered themother, with almost a hopeless expression. 

Bob learned that Tom came home two days before thoroughly wet from acold northeast rain; that he had a chill soon after going to bed; thathe grew rapidly worse throughout the night, and that in the morning hehad a high fever. Mrs. Flannery called in a doctor, who, after a carefulexamination, pronounced the case pneumonia. He left medicine whichseemed to afford temporary relief. In the night, however, Tom grewworse, and during the following forenoon became delirious. 

"Don't you know me, Tom?" said Bob feelingly, as he stood by thebedside, and held the sufferer's hand in his own. 

"All the evening papers--_Sun_, _Mail and Express_, _Telegram_--bigaccident--tremendous loss of life! Which will you have, sir?"

And this was Tom's wild reply, poor boy. Now that his companion, whom hewanted to see so much, and for whom he had such admiration, had at lastcome to him, the sick boy did not know him; but supposing he had acustomer for his papers, he rattled on in true newsboy fashion. Bobtried again and again to rouse his mind by referring to HerbertRandolph, and to scenes familiar and interesting, but his efforts wereunsuccessful. At length his stout young heart gave way, and with anexpression of the keenest grief he dropped into a chair beside the bed, burying his face in the pure white spread that covered his youngcompanion, and wept tears of sincere sorrow. 

[Illustration: TOM FLANNERY IN DELIRIUM. ]

Presently he withdrew from the sick room, and after a brief discussionwith Mrs. Flannery hurried away to the doctor whom she had previouslycalled in to see Tom. The physician promised to visit the sick boy againwithin an hour. Having this assurance from the doctor, Bob then turnedhis steps towards his own room to acquaint Herbert Randolph with Tom'sillness. But to Bob's surprise he found on arriving there that the youngVermonter had not yet reached home. 

"'Twas nine o'clock when I passed the _Tribune_ building, " said Bob tohimself rather anxiously, "and he hain't come yet. I hope nothing'sgone bad with him, though, for we've got trouble enough on our handsalready, with Tom sick, and goin' to die, I'm afraid. I wish I could dosomething for him; he would do anything in the world for me, Tom would. "

But Bob's fears regarding Herbert proved groundless, for in a littletime the latter joined him with a light heart, made happy by the verykind reception given him at Mr. Goldwin's. 

On his way home his mind was filled with the vision of a sweet youngface, which to him was an inspiration. And as he hurried along theavenue, thinking faster and faster, what charming pictures hisimagination brought before him--pictures that for him possessed astrange and peculiar attraction. But these beautiful creations of hismind were quickly lost to him when he saw the troubled look on young BobHunter's face. 

"Why, Bob, " said he, "what makes you look so wretched? What hashappened?"

The latter quickly related the story of Tom's sickness, and stated hisown fears. 

"I cannot realize it, Bob, " said Herbert, deeply touched. "Poor Tom! letus go at once and do whatever we can for him. "

"That's right, Herbert; that's what I think we ought to do, and Ishouldn't come home at all only I knew you would not know what hadbecome of me, " replied Bob, as they put on their overcoats and startedfor Mrs. Flannery's humble home. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

A CRASH IN WALL STREET. 

At the end of two weeks Tom was again up and dressed. His struggle withthe pneumonia had been a frightful one. It was turned in his favorlargely by the aid of the best medical skill, and the untiring caregiven him by his mother and his two faithful friends, Herbert and Bob. The latter took turns in watching with him at night, while Mrs. Flanneryslept, that she might renew her strength for the day watch. 

But the disease, as is not infrequently the case, left Tom with a hard, dry cough, which threatened serious results. His lungs were weak, andhis body was much emaciated. He was not the Tom Flannery of old, the Tomso full of boyish spirits and desire to push his paper trade. Thischange in their young companion caused Herbert and Bob keen anxiety. They had watched beside his bed through delirium and helplessness, whenthere seemed no hope of his recovery. How glad their young hearts werewhen he began to rally, and they could see him in imagination back withthem again in their old pleasures and pastimes! His failure, therefore, to throw off the racking cough and regain his strength was a soredisappointment to them, but this was not their only source ofapprehension. 

How full these two weeks had been of bitter trouble--trouble that drewdeeply upon their sympathy; that destroyed splendid prospects and forcedone of them from a position of independence to one little better thanbeggary. 

Disturbing elements had been gathering for days in Wall Street, which toa few wise old heads seemed ominous. They predicted danger, but theirwarnings were laughed at by the less cautious speculators, who operatedwith a reckless daring. At length, however, the storm struck almostwithout a moment's notice. Wild reports filled the air, and men, strong, bold men, crushed by the tremendous force of the panic, fell prostratehere and there, and everywhere. Terror spread to all, and painted itssickly hue upon their faces. When the storm had subsided the street wasfull of wrecks. Among them was the daring firm of Breakwell & Co. , whohad failed for a million and a quarter of dollars. 

Young Randolph was stunned at the exhibition he witnessed on that fatalday. House after house with whom his firm had done business, and whowere supposed to be almost beyond the possibility of failure, had closedtheir doors. Breakwell & Co. Were among the last to go under. They hadbeen kept up by the splendid loyalty of Richard Goldwin, who put hisbank account at their command, relying upon their assurance that theywere all right, and would come out of the storm stronger than ever, ifthey could only receive temporary help. Mr. Goldwin, anxious to savethem, stood heroically by them, and went down with them--a victim ofnoble generosity, of misplaced confidence. Yes, he had failed--RichardGoldwin, the banker and broker, yesterday a millionaire, today perhaps apauper. 

Herbert Randolph could not at first realize the awful fact, but the painhe saw in Mr. Goldwin's face appealed so strongly to his sympathy thatthe tears forced themselves from his eyes, try however bravely he wouldto restrain them. The doors were closed, and all business with the houseof Richard Goldwin was at an end. 

Mr. Goldwin bore the misfortune like a hero. His face was white and firmas marble. Certain lines, however, told his distress, but never a wordof complaint at the miserable treachery of Breakwell & Co. Escaped hislips. 

Herbert could not help thinking how severe the shock would be to Mrs. Goldwin and Ray, who could not bridle their emotions with an iron willlike that of the ruined banker. The latter was accustomed, in his longcareer in Wall Street, to seeing others meet the disaster that had nowovertaken him; but his wife and daughter--ah, how little they wereprepared for such a shock. 

The panic that ruined so many men added quite largely to the fortunesof young Bob Hunter. He had never before had such a trade. Papers soldbeyond all imagination, and at double their usual price. The result wasa profit of seven dollars and forty seven cents for his day's work. Hefelt richer than ever before in his life, and so happy that he couldhardly wait till the usual time for Herbert to join him, he wanted somuch to make known his grand success. But when young Randolph came tohim with the sad story of that day in Wall Street, his happiness gaveplace to a feeling of unusual sadness, and the sadness deepened onlearning that his friend was now out of a position. 

"But you can get another place, Herbert, " said he, reassuringly;"perhaps a better one than you have lost. "

"I hope so, " was all the reply the young bank clerk made, but there wasa world of expression in the way he said it. His face, too, looked thedisappointment and sorrow he felt, and Bob rightly divined that thesorrow was more for Mr. Goldwin and his family than for himself. 

It is safe to presume that Herbert thought long and regretfully ofthe probability of Mr. Goldwin being reduced to a state of poverty--ofhis being turned out of his luxurious home--of Ray, his daughter, being obliged to work for her living--of her young, sweet life beingembittered by want and miserable surroundings, so out of keeping withher beauty and genial, sunny nature. And if he did think in this wise, what resolutions he formed for relieving her of such a life, and ofrestoring her to her proper place we can only imagine, for on thismatter he said never a word, not even to Bob Hunter. 

On the following morning, Bob Hunter handed Herbert a small roll ofbills. 

"What is this for?" said the latter. 

"It's for you, " replied Bob. "There's only eight dollars in it, butyou'll perhaps need it, and then you'll feel better with it in yourpocket while looking for work. "

"But I cannot accept your money, Bob, " protested Herbert, with feelingsof deep gratitude. 

"Yes, you must, for you are out in the cold, and my business is good;and then, you know, I made most all of it yesterday out of the failuresin Wall Street--out of your firm's failure as much as any, probably, andthat meant your failure to keep your place; so in a way I kinder made itout of you, and now I want you to have it again. "

Herbert's eyes were now moist. 

"Bob, you are very good and generous, " said he, rather huskily; "but youare not logical. I have no claim on your money, neither has any one. Youmade it in legitimate trade, and should not feel that it does not belongto you. "

"Well, I know I did; but I feel in a kind of way that it was made off ofthe misfortunes of others, you see. "

[Illustration: YOUNG RANDOLPH AGAIN IN THE RANKS OF THE UNEMPLOYED. ]

"But the misfortunes were not caused by you. They had occurred, andpeople wanted to know about them, and were willing and glad to pay fortheir information. This gave you an opportunity to make some money, andyou made it. "

"Well, of course you will beat me at arguing, Herbert, for you alwaysdo; but all the same I wish you would take the money, for I think youwill need it. "

"If I do need any money, when mine is gone, I will then borrow this ofyou, but until then you must keep it. "

After this discussion, and after a very frugal breakfast, Herbert oncemore joined the ranks of the vast army who go from place to place, hungry and thinly clothed many times, in search of employment--anythingto keep the wolf from the door. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

DARK DAYS. 

It was now midwinter. The streets were filled with snow and ice, and thecold, frost-laden air was chilling alike to the body and spirits of onein the unfortunate position in which young Randolph suddenly foundhimself. 

If one has never been out of a position in a great city at this seasonof the year, he can have but little conception of the almost utterlyhopeless prospects before him. After the holiday trade is over, a vastnumber of clerks are discharged from our stores, and thousands in themanufacturing line are thrown out of employment. These are added tothe very large number that at all seasons of the year are hunting forwork. Thousands, too, from the country, thinking to escape the drearyfrost-bound months of rural life, flock to the city and join theenormous army of the unemployed. All want work, and there is little orno work to be had. It is the season of the year when few changes aremade by employers other than to dispense with the services of those notactually needed. To be sure, a few employees die, and leave vacancies tobe filled. Others prove unfaithful, and are discharged. A new business, too, is started here and there, but all the available positions combinedare as nothing when compared to the tremendous demand for them by thethousands of applicants. 

When Herbert Randolph came to New York in the fall, he was fortunate inarriving at the time when employers usually carry a larger force of helpthan at any other season of the year. There was consequently less demandfor positions, and a greater demand for help. Thus he had a possiblechance of securing employment, and he happened to be fortunate enough todo so. I say he had a _possible chance_, for surely he had no more thanthat even at the most favorable season of the year. He was extremelyfortunate, coming from the country as he did, to find employment at all. 

In view of these facts it will not be surprising that young Randolph, brave boy as he was, looked upon the dreary prospect before him with aheavy heart. 

Bob Hunter realized fully the gravity of his friend's situation, andthis is why he urged the money upon him, wishing to keep up his courage, and delicately refraining from touching upon the dark outlook ahead. 

I wish I had the space to picture carefully all the rebuffs, the coldtreatment, and the discouragement that met our young hero on his dailywanderings, seeking for some honest labor--anything that would furnishhim with the means to buy bread. But as I should not feel justified inextending this story to such a length, I must content myself with a fewglimpses that will show the heroic struggle he made to sustain himselfduring these dark, chilly, and cheerless days of winter. 

"It's pretty tough, ain't it, Herbert?" said Bob, one night when theywere alone together in their room. He sought to lift the burden from hisfriend's mind by drawing him into conversation. 

"Yes, " answered Herbert, mechanically. 

This reply, so short, and given with so little expression, gave Bob afeeling of uneasiness. 

"I hope you ain't getting discouraged, " he ventured next. 

"No, nothing will discourage me now, " replied young Randolph doggedly. 

"But you hain't got no encouragement yet?"

"No, none whatever, " was the gloomy answer. 

"And you've been trying for three weeks to strike something?"

"Yes; it's nearer four weeks, and my shoes are worn out with walking. "

"But you know I have some money for you, and you better take it and buyyou a new pair. "

[Illustration: HERBERT RANDOLPH SHOVELING SNOW. ]

"No, Bob, I will never take that except as a last resort. While I havemy health I shall not allow myself to accept charity. I am not afraidto do any sort of work, and sooner or later I am confident that I shallfind employment. This morning I earned seventy five cents shoveling snowfrom the stoops of houses. This sort of employment, however, is veryuncertain, as so little snow falls here; but there are other odd jobs tobe done, and I shall try and get my share of them. "

"I didn't know you was doing that kind of work, Herbert, " said Bob, witha deep drawn sigh. "It ain't right for a boy with your learnin' to comedown to that. "

"It's right for me to do anything temporarily to earn an honest penny. One who is above work cannot hope to succeed. I am here, and I am goingto stay, and the best I can do is to do always the best I can, and thebest I can do just at present is to be a porter, an errand boy, a boy ofall work--ready for anything, and willing to do anything, always keepingmy eyes open for a chance to go a step higher. 

"The trouble with me now, Bob, is that I started in too elegantly atfirst. I commenced in a broker's office, when I should have started atthe bottom, in order to know anything about the first round of theladder. I'm at the bottom now, and it looks as if I would have to remainthere long enough to learn a good deal about that position. "

"I'm glad you feel that way, Herbert, for I thought you was gettingdiscouraged, " replied Bob, his face brightening up. 

"I did feel utterly discouraged for the first two or three weeks;but you know, Bob, one can get used to anything, and I have becomesufficiently accustomed to this miserable kind of work, and to thebeggarly pennies I earn from time to time, so that it is less cutting tome than at first. I try to content myself with the belief that it willbe better by and by, though I get heartsick sometimes. It seems almostuseless to try farther for work in any well established business. "

The foregoing will give a very slight idea of the struggle youngRandolph made to keep his head above water, and it presents a prettytrue picture of the difficulties a boy will ordinarily encounter inattempting to make his way unaided in a great city like New York. Ofcourse difficulties vary in character and severity; but it would notbe safe for the average boy to expect to find less than those thatsurrounded our hero. Some would be more fortunate, while others would beless favored. Herbert Randolph was especially fortunate in meeting BobHunter, whose friendship proved as true as steel. What would have becomeof him while in the hands of old Gunwagner, but for Bob's effort torescue him? And, again, how could he have fought away despondency duringhis enforced idleness had he lived by himself in a cold and cheerlessroom? Brave and manly as he was, he owed much to his warm heartedcompanion, whose presence and sympathy revived his drooping and almostcrushed spirits. 

As the days passed by, Herbert Randolph turned his attention to themost practical purposes. He almost entirely gave up looking for a steadysituation, and devoted his time to doing whatever odd jobs he could hitupon that would bring him in a little money. Among the many kinds ofhumble employment to which he bent his energies was that of workingthe hoist. In New York the tall warehouses, those not supplied with anelevator, have a windlass at the top, to which is attached a heavy rope, that passes down through a wide opening to the ground floor. This rope, with a large iron hook at the end, is attached to heavy cases, orwhatever is to be taken to any of the upper lofts. Another rope, passingover a big wheel, when pulled turns the windlass. This winds the mainrope around it, and thus draws it up, taking with it its load, whateverthat may be. Perhaps no harder or less poetic work to an educated boycould be found than this; yet Herbert Randolph did not hesitate to throwoff his coat, and work with an aching back and smarting hands as fewporters would do. 

He worked faithfully and honestly, with no hope of reward other than themoney he would earn by his labor. And yet this very employment--thishumble porter work--opened up to him an opportunity of which he hadnever dreamed--suggested to him an idea that he never before thought of. 

It came about in this way. One day, after he had toiled for two hours orso on the hoist, and had finished his work, he went up to the cashier toget his money, as he had done many times before. A man with a satchelstrapped to his shoulder was just ahead of him. 

"Good morning, Mr. Smith, " said the man with the satchel, addressing thecashier. 

[Illustration: HERBERT RANDOLPH WORKING ON THE HOIST. ]

"Good morning, " responded the latter. "I am glad you came today, Mr. Woodman, for we have an unusually large supply of stamps on hand. "

"The market is very much overstocked at present, " replied Woodman, unslinging his satchel, and resting it on the desk. "I bought a thousanddollars' worth of stamps yesterday from one party at five per cent off. "

"Five per cent, " repeated the cashier, arching his eyebrows. 

"Yes, five per cent. "

"And you expect to buy from us at that rate?"

"I wish I could pay you more, but my money is all tied up now--themarket is glutted, fairly glutted. "

"I should think it would be, when you buy them in thousand dollar lots. "

"Well, that does seem like a large amount of stamps, but I know of onelot--a ten thousand dollar lot--that I could buy within an hour, if Ihad the money to put into them. "

"You could never get rid of so many, Woodman, " said the cashier, surprised at the broker's statement. 

"Oh, yes, I could work them off sooner or later, and would get par formost of them too. "

"How do you do it?"

"I put them up in small lots of fifty cents and a dollar, and upwards, and sell them to my customers. Of course, when I buy big lots I do alittle wholesaling, but I put away all I cannot sell at the time. "

"They are sure to go sooner or later, I suppose, " said the cashier. 

"Oh, yes, sure to sell. During the summer months very few stamps comeinto the market. "

"And this gives you an opportunity to work off your surplus stock?"

"Yes. "

"I presume you sell as a rule to stores and business offices. "

"Yes; I have a regular line of customers who buy all of their stamps offme--customers that I worked up myself. "

"And they prefer buying of you to going to the post office for theirsupply?"

"Certainly; for I give them just as good stamps, and by buying of methey save themselves the trouble of going to the post office for them. "

Herbert Randolph was waiting for his money, and overheard thisconversation between the cashier and the stamp broker. He made no effortto hear it, for it did not relate to him. They spoke so loud, however, that he caught every word distinctly, and before they had finishedtalking the idea flashed across his mind that he would try his handat that business. Mr. Woodman, as good fortune willed it for youngRandolph, could take only a portion of the stamps the cashier wished todispose of. When the broker had completed his purchase and gone, Herbertstepped up to the cashier for the money due him for working on thehoist. Mr. Smith handed it to him cheerfully, with a pleasant remark, which gave young Randolph an opportunity to talk with him about thestamp brokerage idea that had set his brain on fire. 

"How much capital have you?" asked the cashier, with growing interest. 

"With the money you just paid me I have three dollars and seventy fivecents, " answered Herbert, his face coloring. 

The cashier smiled. 

"And you think you could become a broker on that capital?" said he, withmingled surprise and amusement. 

"I think I could try it on that capital if you would sell me thestamps, " replied Herbert, with such intelligent assurance that heinterested the cashier. 

"You can certainly have the stamps, " answered the latter, "and I willaid you in every way possible, but----" and there was an ominous pause, as if thinking how he could best discourage the boy from such anundertaking. 

Herbert divined his thoughts, and said, "I know such an idea must seemfoolish to you, who handle so much money; but to me----"

"Yes, you may be right, young man, " interrupted the cashier. "Youcertainly interest me. I like ambition and pluck, and you evidently haveboth. When would you like the stamps?"

"Thank you, " said Herbert, in a tone that lent strength to his words. "You may give them to me now, if you please--three dollars' worth. I mayneed the seventy five cents before I succeed in selling any stamps. "

"It is a wise precaution to avoid tying up all your capital in onething, " laughed the cashier, while counting out the stamps. "They willcost you two dollars and eighty five cents, at five per cent discount, the same as I gave Mr. Woodman. "

When the transaction had been completed, young Randolph left the officehurriedly, anxious to learn what the possibilities of his newundertaking were. 

Ten times during that first day did he return to Mr. Smith for stamps, and ten times was his supply exhausted by customers to whom he sold atpar--resulting in a profit of a dollar and fifty cents--an income thatto him was a small fortune. 

That night Herbert Randolph joined Bob Hunter with brighter eyes andmore buoyant spirits than he had known since Mr. Goldwin's failure, nownearly three months ago. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

IN BUSINESS FOR HIMSELF. 

Only strong characters are able to lift themselves out of poverty andadversity by sheer force of will, unaided by any one. Such a characterHerbert Randolph proved himself to be. For nearly three months he hadfaced the most discouraging prospects. With education, with a knowledgeof accounts, with splendid intelligence, with manly pride and nobleambition, he went from luxurious banking apartments to the cold wintrystreets, down, down the cheerless and grim descent, till he reachedthe bottom, where he found himself in competition with the dregs ofhumanity--one of them, as far as his employment went. Imagine this proudspirited boy humbled to the degree of bidding side by side for work witha ragged Italian, a broken down and blear eyed drunkard, a cruel facedrefugee from the penitentiary, or a wretched, unkempt tramp. How hisyoung, brave heart must have ached as he found himself working onthe hoist or in the street with loathsome characters of thissort--characters that purity and self respect could only shun asa pestilence. 

But this he was forced to do--either this, or to acknowledge his citycareer a failure, and return home with crushed spirits and shatteredpride, a disappointment to his father and mother and the butt of ruderural jokes for his more or less envious neighbors. 

The latter is just what most boys would have done, but not so youngRandolph. His eyes were closed to any such escape from his presentwretched condition. Herein he showed his superior strength. But howlittle he realized, as he worked with dogged determination at thesecheerless tasks, that this very employment would lead him into thelight, as it ultimately did. Boys see nothing but drudgery in suchemployment, or in any humble position. They want to commence work atsomething genteel. An easy clerical position like the one young Randolphhad with Mr. Goldwin appeals strongly to their taste. Fine clothes, white hands, little work and short hours--these are in great demandamong boys. Young Randolph, indeed, was no exception to the rule. Hesought a position in a bank and got it. Fortunately for him, however, the bank failed, and he was thrown into the streets. But for this hewould have been a clerk still--a little three dollar machine, whichbears no patent, and possesses no especial value over the ten thousandother machines capable of performing similar work. His dream of wealthand position would in all probability never have materialized. He woulddoubtless have in time become a head clerk at a respectable salary. Buthow little this would have satisfied his ambition! His desire to be atthe head of the firm could never have been realized, for he would nothave had the money to place himself there. The result would have beenclerking, clerking, miserable, aimless clerking, and nothing more. But now, through what seemed to him his misfortune had come goodfortune--through the drudgery of the hoist had come a business of hisown--a growing, paying, business--_a business of great possibilities_. The suffering he had undergone did him no permanent harm. On thecontrary it enabled him to appreciate more keenly the opportunity henow had for making money and supplying himself with the necessaries, andsome of the luxuries, of life. 

Young Randolph's brokerage business grew day by day as he added newcustomers and learned how to manage it more successfully. In a littletime he saw the necessity of having a place where his customers couldreach him by mail or messenger. He therefore arranged with a party onNassau Street to allow him desk room. Then followed this card:

 +------------------------------------------------+ | HERBERT RANDOLPH, | | | | 111 NASSAU STREET, | | | | BUYS AND SELLS NEW YORK. | | ALL KINDS OF FOREIGN COIN AND PAPER. | | | | United States Silver and Postage | | Stamps a Specialty. | +------------------------------------------------+

It was with much pleasure that he studied these neatly printed cards. The first thing he did after receiving them from the printer was toinclose one in a letter to his mother. He had already written herglowing accounts of his growing business, and he felt that this cardwould give a realism to his pen pictures that he had been unable toimpart. He thought long and with pride how sacredly that little bit ofpasteboard would be treasured by his parents--how proudly they wouldshow it to their neighbors, and the comments that it would bring forth. 

Then he took one over to Bob Hunter, who exhibited no little surprise ashe read it admiringly. 

Later in the evening he and the newsboy went as usual to visit TomFlannery, who now, poor boy, seemed to be yielding to that dreaddisease--consumption. How his face brightened up as he looked at thecard with scarcely less pride than if it had been his own!

"I wish I could get into that business, Herbert, when I get well, " saidhe, turning the card languidly in his thin, emaciated fingers; "you'n'me'n' Bob. Yes, I would like that, for we always had such good timestogether, didn't we, Bob?"

"Yes, we did, Tom, " answered Bob, tenderly. "I guess as good times asanybody ever had, even if we didn't have much money. "

"So I think, Bob. I've thought of it a good many times while I've beensick here--of the detective business and all, and how grand you managedthe whole thing. But then you always done everything grand, Bob. None erthe boys could do it like you. "

"You do some things much better than I could, Tom, " said Bob. 

"No, Bob. I never could do nothing like you. "

"You bear your sickness more patiently than I could, and that is harderto do than anything I ever did, " replied Bob. 

"Well, I have to do it, you know, Bob. There ain't no other way, isthere, Herb----"

The last part of the word was lost in violent coughing that racked theboy's feeble frame terribly. 

"I am afraid you are talking too much, Tom, " said Herbert. "We must notallow you to say any more at present. "

Ten days later, and Tom had grown too weak to be dressed. Part of thetime he lay bolstered up in bed, but even this taxed his strength tooheavily. He had become very much wasted, and was little more than askeleton. All hope of his recovery had been given up, and it was nowsimply a question of how long he could be kept alive. Bob and Herbertbrought him choice fruits, and drew liberally from their slender purses, to buy for him whatever would tend to make him more comfortable or wouldgratify his fancy. 

Poor Mrs. Flannery was almost overcome with sorrow as she saw her boywasting away and sinking lower and lower as each day passed by. He washer only child, and she loved him with all the force of her greatmother's heart. 

At length the end came. Bob and Herbert were present with thegrief-stricken mother, trying to comfort her and struggling to repressthe sorrow each felt at the close approach of death. 

For several hours the sick boy had been in a sort of stupor from whichit seemed probable that he would never rally. He lay like one dead, scarcely breathing. Towards midnight, however, he opened his eyes andlooked upon the three tear stained faces beside his bed. An expressionof deepest pity settled upon his countenance, and he spoke with mucheffort, saying:

"Don't cry, mother; don't feel so bad for me. You have Bob and Herbertleft. They will look out for you when I am gone, " whispered the dyingboy faintly, and he turned his eyes for confirmation to the friend whohad never failed him. 

"Yes, " answered Bob, pressing the sufferer's hand warmly. "We will doeverything you could wish us to for your mother--you would have done itfor either of us, Tom. "

The latter's eyes moistened and grew bright with a feeling of joy atthis assurance from Bob--this last proof of his true friendship. 

"I knew it before, mother, " he said, nerving himself for the effort, "but it makes me happy to hear him say it before you--to hear him say itbefore I go. "

"And you may rely upon me also, Tom, to join Bob in doing for yourmother whatever would please you most, " said Herbert, unable to keepback the hot tears. 

"Yes, I am sure of that, Herbert. You and Bob are just alike, and can domore than I could if I had lived. I am so glad I knew you, Herbert, "continued the dying boy, his face flushing with momentary animation ashe recalled the past. "What good times we have had, you and me and Bob!I thought they would last always, but--but--well I wish I might havelived to go into business with you. I would have tried my best to pleaseyou, and----"

"What is it?" asked Herbert, noticing the sufferer's hesitation. 

"I was going to ask you if the business, your new business, wouldn't getbig enough to take Bob in with you--to make him a partner, so he canmake a lot of money, too. I was almost afraid to ask you, but----"

"That is already fixed, " said Bob hoarsely, almost overcome by thesolicitude of his dying friend. "Herbert gave me an interest in thebusiness today, and I shall commence working with him as soon as I amneeded. "

"I am so glad, so glad, " responded the sufferer faintly, and with asmile that told plainly the joy this knowledge gave him. "It's all rightnow, " he continued slowly, and with greater effort, for the littlestrength he had left was fast leaving him. "You will be taken care of, mother, and Bob will be taken care of by Herbert, " he went on, sinkinginto a half unconscious state. "I know they will do well and will makerich men and have everything in the world that they want. I wish Icould see them then with a big banking house and clerks and privateoffices and errand boys and electric bells and fine carriages and horsesand a brown stone house in the avenue, may be. "

[Illustration: TOM FLANNERY'S DEATHBED. ]

In a little while he regained full consciousness as if by a powerfuleffort, and said in a faint whisper:

"There is one thing more, mother--my knife, my little brass knife. "

Mrs. Flannery brought it and placed it in his thin hands. 

He looked at it with such a strange expression of affection--a littlewell worn knife of inexpensive make. How long he had carried it in hispocket, how many times he had held it in his hand, and now--yes, now, heheld it for the last time--only this little knife, yet his all, his onlylegacy. 

"You won't want it, will you, mother?" said he, with moist eyes andstruggling with emotion. 

"No, no, Tommy, " sobbed the broken hearted mother. 

"I knew you wouldn't, " said he, "for I want to give it to Bob. It ain'tmuch, I know, Bob, " he continued, addressing the latter; "but it's all Ihave. You will keep it, won't you, to remember me by? When you get to bea man--a rich business man with fine offices and a house of your own, look at this knife sometimes--my knife, and think of me, and how we usedto work together. Yes, you will do so, won't you, Bob?"

"I will, Tom, I will, " answered Bob, as he took the little knife intohis own hands. "I will keep it always to remind me of you, " and he bowedhis head upon the bed beside his dying friend and cried with sinceregrief. 

"It's all right now, " responded the sufferer. "All right, " he repeated, as his mother pressed her lips to his forehead. 

"All right, " again, so feebly that the last word fainted half spoken byhis dying lips. 

In a few moments the last death struggle was over. He was gone, poor Tom, the honest, trustful boy with a pure heart and noblefriendship--cut off in the morning of his life by a sickness brought onby exposure, and an exposure made necessary that he might earn the meansto supply his humble wants. A cruel world this seems sometimes, when onereflects how unevenly the joys and sorrows, and luxuries and misery aredistributed among brothers and sisters, neighbors and countrymen. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

TOM FLANNERY'S FUNERAL. 

The grief of the broken hearted mother and the two faithful friends canbetter be imagined than described. Words, however ably chosen, failutterly to picture the sufferings of the human heart. In imaginationwe can see the three bending over the still form of him to whose hearteach was attached so firmly. One, a well aged woman, still clingingpassionately to the cold hands and moaning with almost frantic grief. Now she presses the lifeless figure to her breast, appealing wildly toit to speak to her, to call her "mother" just once more. Again she fallsupon her knees and prays as only one prays with bursting heart, that herboy, her Tom, her only child, her very life, may be restored to her. With her tears are mingled those of Herbert and Bob, whose young spiritsoverflow with sorrow, not alone for their own loss at the hands of deathbut at the wild, tumultuous grief of the bereaved mother. 

A little later we see the undertaker arrive with all his dreadparaphernalia, then the casket, a plain, neat one purchased by Herbertand Bob, in due time receives the dead body. 

The funeral follows speedily, and is held in Mrs. Flannery's rooms. In one of them she lies in bed helplessly ill from grief and utterprostration. All preparations for the burial have been made by Herbertand Bob. The minister arrives, and after a hurried talk with Herbertdevotes himself to Mrs. Flannery, trying to lessen her sorrow by suchwords of consolation and assurance as his calling enables him to speakwith something like holy authority. 

A tall, fine looking man with a young, sweet faced girl now knocks atthe door. They are Mr. Goldwin and his daughter, and the latter brings across of flowers for a burial offering. How strangely out of place theyseem in these small, barely furnished attic rooms, yet they have comewith honest purpose to pay honor to the humble dead. Mr. Goldwin hadknown of Tom's brave part in rescuing Herbert from the villains by whomhe had been imprisoned. He had at that time sent him a reward, and nowhe came sorrowfully to mingle his tears with those of the lowly friendsof the dead. Ray had begged to come with him, and he was glad to granther the request, for he felt that she would receive a lesson from thissimple funeral such as could not be learned elsewhere. 

A delegation of newsboys about the age of the dead now arrived. Theyhad known him well as a rival trader, as a true friend and agreeablecompanion. They had often asked after him during his illness, and nowthey came, their bright young faces heavy with sorrow, to follow hisremains to the tomb. They brought with them a handsome wreath of flowersbearing the simple word "Tom. "

The casket was carried into the sick room and placed on a table notfar from the bed on which Mrs. Flannery lay sobbing. When all hadbeen seated, the minister rose and prayed, such a prayer as is seldomoffered. The occasion was an inspiration to the holy man. In all hisyears of ministry he had never been called upon to attend such a funeralas this--so simple, so strange, and yet so genuinely sad. It was a boy'sfuneral, and the audience was composed almost wholly of boys. Thecasket had been bought by boys, the details of the funeral had beenarranged by boys, and boys--nearly a score of them--were there to mournthe loss of their friend. And they were no ordinary boys, with careless, thoughtless manners, but sturdy lads who were almost men in thought, forlong, long months had they, like the deceased, had to think and act forthemselves. 

Mr. Goldwin and Ray, aided to some extent by a few of the boys, sang ahymn, and then the minister, after reading the Bible, gave a feeling andimpressive talk that went home to the hearts of every one present. Boband Herbert could not have felt greater sorrow had the dead been theirown brother. They tried, however, to restrain their grief, as everythingdepended upon them, since Mrs. Flannery was now helpless. 

At the close of the service all except Mrs. Flannery passed by thecasket, looking for the last time upon the features of the dead boybefore the lid was closed. The mother was bolstered up in bed, and thecasket was lowered beside her, where she too could view the remains. Thepall bearers were selected from the delegation of newsboys, as I thinkTom would have wished had he expressed himself upon this point. 

In a little time the casket had been placed within the hearse, and thisstrange funeral party started on its solemn journey to the tomb. Mr. Goldwin and Ray and Herbert and Bob occupied the carriage of chiefmourners--not that the two former could strictly be called mourners, buttheir object in going to the tomb was to comfort the two boys, for whoseconduct Mr. Goldwin had the greatest admiration. 

The newsboys followed in other carriages, which had been secured by BobHunter without cost, when it was known for what purpose they werewanted. 

The remains of the dead boy were buried beside those of his father andsister in Greenwood Cemetery, where his mother had bought a plot at thedeath of her husband. 

[Illustration: TOM FLANNERY'S FUNERAL. ]

"We must buy a stone, Herbert, for Tom's grave when we can get themoney, " said Bob, as they came slowly away from the cemetery. 

"Yes, we will do that some time, Bob, " answered Herbert, with swolleneyes. "But our first duty is to take care of his mother. "

"Yes, we promised him that we would look after her, and we must doit--he would have done it for either of us, " answered Bob, choking withemotion as his mind went back to the death scene. 

"I wish I could help do something for Mrs. Flannery, poor woman, " saidRay, addressing her father. 

"I shall be very glad to have you do anything in reason, my dear, "replied Mr. Goldwin with pleasure. "Nothing would make me more proud ofmy daughter than to see her helping others who need encouragement andassistance. "

"You shall be proud of me then, father, " replied Ray with enthusiasm. "Iam so glad you took me with you today. It has given me a new idea oflife. Now I feel as if I could be of some use in the world. "

"You certainly can if you wish to do good, for the competition in thatline is not so great as it should be, " answered Mr. Goldwinthoughtfully. 

[Illustration: RAY READING TO MRS. FLANNERY. ]

"It looks so in Mrs. Flannery's case surely, " remarked Herbert; "therewere few to help her in her terrible trouble. "

"Did she have no friends but you and Mr. Hunter?" asked Ray. 

"No, I think not, " answered young Randolph, "at least none that I knowof. "

"What would she have done, poor woman, but for your kindness?"

"I do not like to think about it, " replied Herbert with a shudder. 

"I think I know of a good woman who would go down and take care of Mrs. Flannery while she is sick, " said Mr. Goldwin. "She certainly needs goodnursing for the present. "

"I wish such a woman could be had, " said Herbert, "for both Bob andmyself are anxious to get to work. "

CHAPTER XXX. 

IN A NEW HOME. 

Three weeks after the funeral Mrs. Flannery had sufficiently recoveredher strength so that she could safely be moved from the rooms she hadoccupied so long. Ray Goldwin had done much towards bringing about thissatisfactory result by her frequent visits and cheerful manner--alwayssaying and doing the right thing with admirable tact. She became muchinterested in the childless woman whose heart still bled unceasingly forher "poor Tom, poor Tom, " as she murmured often to herself. 

At the funeral Ray had contrasted her own life with that of Herbert andBob. As she pondered over what these two humble boys, with so slendermeans, had done for the dying lad and his grief-stricken mother, shefelt how much she suffered by the comparison. 

The solemnity of the occasion and the glowing words of praise forthe two friends of the dead, spoken with such peculiar force by theminister, led her, as was natural, to overestimate their worth andto undervalue her own. With the same spirit, therefore, with whichshe admired Herbert and Bob for their acts, she condemned her owninactivity, and there in that little room beside the remains of thehumble newsboy she resolved that she would be something more than asociety girl as her life had hitherto been tending. She had learned avaluable lesson and given place to a purpose as noble as it was humane. 

[Illustration: MRS. FLANNERY AND THE TWO BOYS IN THEIR NEW HOME. ]

That she was carrying out this purpose her kind acts and words ofcomfort to Mrs. Flannery amply attested. She, however, was not alonethe source of comfort while on these missions of noble charity, for thesick woman gave her, unconsciously, to be sure, as she talked of HerbertRandolph, a taste of happiness of a finer and sweeter character than sheherself, poor woman, could ever hope again to feel. It was born of heroworship--a worship ripening into simple, childlike sentiment. I say heroworship, for such her thoughts of young Randolph and Bob Hunter werewhen she first realized how kind and generous they had been to him whonow lay dead, and to his helpless and heart broken mother. 

Such thoughts, however, to a young girl just verging upon the age ofwoman, and when the hero is a noble, manly boy like Randolph, are butthe buds of the more beautiful and fragrant flower which time is sure tobring forth. 

And this is the way that Ray came to find such pleasure in the simpletalk of Mrs. Flannery--talk that but for this magnetic interest musthave been unbearably dull to her young ears. 

Herbert and Bob, feeling that it would be better for the bereaved motherto get away from her present rooms where she was constantly reminded ofthe dead, leased a neat little flat in Harlem, to which she was moved, together with her furniture. Here they designed making a home forthemselves, inaugurating Mrs. Flannery as housekeeper. It seemed to themthat they could in no other way carry out so fully the wishes of theirdead friend. The housework would occupy her mind and keep her busy, andby their living thus together she would have with her the two friends inwhose care the deceased had placed her. Moreover each desired a betterhome than their cheerless attic room had been to them, and they feltthat they could now afford to spend more upon themselves. 

Thus the flat was taken and with Mrs. Flannery's furniture, a few newthings from the store and little fancy articles made and contributed byRay and her mother, the boys found themselves very happily situated intheir new home. Mrs. Flannery, too, while at her new duties, recoveredmore quickly than would seem possible from the terrible shock she hadsustained. In young Randolph and Bob Hunter she found all she could havedesired in sons of her own--found, as her poor dying boy had said, thatthey would look out for her, and could do more for her than he. And sheproved a good mother to them, studying their every want with gratitudeand affection. 

To Bob especially the comforts of his present life gave great happiness, and as the weeks rolled by he became more and more attached to his newhome, and spent all the spare time possible in study, being taught byHerbert. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE BOY BROKER. 

While young Randolph was away from his business during the few days ofthe death and burial of his friend, the proprietor of a house from whomHerbert bought a great many stamps complained to his bookkeeper aboutthe large supply on hand. 

"But we cannot get rid of them if no one calls for them, " replied thelatter. 

"Hasn't Littlewood been in for any?"

"No, he has not been here for ten days. "

"Ten days, " repeated the merchant thoughtfully. "What has become of theboy broker? I have not seen him here lately. "

"The boy broker, " said the bookkeeper, taking Herbert's card from adrawer to find his address. "He is at 111 Nassau Street. Shall I sendfor him?"

"Yes, do so, " said the proprietor as he walked away. 

"The boy broker, " repeated the bookkeeper to himself, catching at hisemployer's words. "That has a good ring to it and would sound well onyoung Randolph's cards. "

Having a pen in his hand he dipped it in red ink and printed diagonallyacross Herbert's card the words THE BOY BROKER. "That looks well, " saidhe to himself, holding it off and eying it critically. "It is catchy. Iwill suggest to young Randolph that he adds it to his cards and printsit in red ink as I have done. There's nothing like advertising, " he wenton, talking to himself. "It pays, and this will pay Randolph--I know itwill. "

The suggestion was accordingly made to Herbert and he adopted it, havinghis cards printed precisely as the one the bookkeeper had shown him. 

And this is the way he became known as THE BOY BROKER. The name proved"catchy, " as the bookkeeper had predicted, and after adopting it Herbertfound his business growing more rapidly than ever. But just now a mostunexpected bit of good luck came to the young Vermonter and at a timetoo when he felt sorely the need of money. The cause brought by Mr. Goldwin's lawyer against Christopher Gunwagner for false imprisonment ofHerbert Randolph had come up for trial. Herbert and Bob were summoned tocourt to testify against the old fence. 

The trial was ably conducted on both sides, but the fact that youngRandolph had been restrained from his liberty by one ChristopherGunwagner, a notorious fence, was quickly established. It only remainedthen for the jury to find the damages. 

Herbert had sued for one thousand dollars, and his lawyer made an ableargument to recover the full amount. 

He dwelt at length upon our hero's sufferings in that damp, mustycellar, infested as it was by rats to such a degree as to threatenhis reason; all of which was only too true. Graphically did the lawyerpicture this scene, so graphically that the hearts of the jurymen werenoticeably touched. 

Then the lawyer argued that outside and beyond the actual injurysuffered, there should be an exemplary damage awarded. The worst traitsof the old fence were shown up, and contrasted with the spotlesscharacter of Herbert Randolph. 

The judge in his charge sustained the idea of exemplary damage, and thenthe case went to the jury. 

They had remained out about three quarters of an hour, when they came inand announced a verdict in favor of Herbert Randolph of _five hundredand seventy five dollars_!

Young Randolph was never more surprised in his life, or only once; andthat was when he found Bob Hunter at old Gunwagner's on the night of hisescape. 

"Five hundred and seventy five dollars!" said he to himself, unable torealize that he had been awarded such a sum of money. 

Bob Hunter congratulated him, his lawyer congratulated him, and thecourt even did likewise. 

But none were more hearty and genuine in their congratulations than Mr. Goldwin and his pretty daughter Ray. 

"I owe it all to you, Mr. Goldwin, " said Herbert, gratefully. "I shouldnever have thought to commence action against old Gunwagner but for youradvice. "

The odd seventy five dollars paid the lawyer and all the court expenses. This left a clear five hundred dollars for young Randolph--what a lot ofmoney, five hundred dollars in new, crisp bank notes!

"And it shall all go into our business, Bob, " said he, proudly, "and asyou are now an equal partner with me half of the money will be yours. "

"Oh, no, Herbert, that would not be right, " protested Bob. 

"Yes, I am sure it would, " replied The Boy Broker. "My being imprisonedwas due to no effort of my own, but rather to my simplicity, my lack ofkeenness. My release, on the other hand, was due to your brave effortsto rescue me. I walked into the trap unconsciously, you walked into itwith your eyes open, risking your very life to save me. To you thereforethe greater reward is due--you earned your portion, I helplessly enduredthe misery that has brought me mine. "

"But I did not suffer any and you did, " returned Bob, feeling keenly hishelplessness when in an argument with young Randolph. 

"You, however, took the chances of suffering, and those who take greatchances in business, in war and in dangerous enterprises, of whatevercharacter, if successful are well rewarded for the part they have borne. No, Bob, I would not think of keeping all this money, " continuedHerbert, impressively. "We are partners in business together. Let usstart with equal interest, then we should feel no jealousy toward eachother. This five hundred dollars will enable us to do five times thebusiness we are now doing, and if we save the profits we make we canstill further increase it month by month. "

"Do you remember, Herbert, " said Bob, with grateful expression, "thatwhen Mr. Goldwin failed and you were thrown out of work I urged you totake some money--only eight dollars--and you refused it?"

"Yes, I remember it well, Bob, " replied young Randolph. 

"And now you ask me to take two hundred and fifty dollars from you. Whyshould I not refuse your offer as you refused mine?"

"Bob, " said Herbert, taking him by the hand, "that eight dollars was areserve fund, it was all that stood between you and me and starvationor what is almost as bad--public charity. I appreciated as you littleknew your generous offer, and it cut me to see how hurt you felt at myrefusal to take the money. But I thought of the possibility of sicknessor accident, and realized how much help those few dollars would prove insuch a time. Again I felt that the money would do me no good. I know nowthat it would not have, for I should simply have used it up and wouldthen have been no nearer, if so near, solving the problem that pressedme for an answer--namely, how to earn sufficient means with which to buybread and procure a shelter for myself. "

"I think you were right, Herbert, " replied Bob, thoughtfully. "Icouldn't think so then, however, but it is plain to me now. "

"I know I was right. It was the suffering I went through in those drearywinter months and the miserable drudgery I was forced to perform that atlast gave me a knowledge of this business. It was an education to me, Bob, of a most practical character, and now that it is all over I canonly feel glad that I was forced out of my comfortable clerkship intothe cold wintry street that had so sunny an ending. "

CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE CONSPIRATORS' FATE. 

A few weeks after the trial of Gunwagner for false imprisonment he wasagain brought before the bar of justice to answer with Felix Mortimer tothe charge of conspiring to kidnap Herbert Randolph. Able counsel wereemployed by the old villain, and a hard fight was made for liberty. Butthe charges were so well sustained by the evidence of Herbert and Bob, and that of the small boy who aided the latter in gaining admittance tothe fence's den, that the jury brought in a verdict of guilty. 

Gunwagner was, accordingly, sentenced to serve a long term ofimprisonment at Sing Sing as a penalty for his villainous acts. He hadaccumulated much money by crooked means, and now towards the end of hislife his own freedom was the price paid for the gold which now wasvalueless to him. 

Then came Felix Mortimer's turn. But for him Herbert Randolph wouldnever have fallen into the trouble that seemed to await him on hisarrival in New York. Young Mortimer, however, overreached himself. Hewas not a match for Herbert Randolph and Bob Hunter together--neither henor all of his disreputable cronies. 

His plans miscarried wofully, and now, after many long weary days ofconfinement in the Tombs, he found himself sentenced to the House ofCorrection for nearly four years, or until he reached the age of hismajority. 

Felix Mortimer was splendidly endowed by nature for a brilliant man. Hehad great ability, and was unusually bright and prepossessing. Butunfortunately for him, and for the community in which he lived, hecommenced life in the wrong way. He failed to recognize the fact that notrue success can be attained except by operating on the solid principlesof truth and honesty. His envy of Herbert Randolph had at last broughthim disgrace and humiliation, while the young Vermonter now had a wellpaying and fast growing business of his own. How bitterly he must haveregretted his own foolish and evil acts, when he realized fully to whatthey had brought him!

[Illustration: GUNWAGNER IN PRISON. ]

He could look now upon Herbert Randolph and say to himself, truthfully, "I had the ability to succeed as well as you have and to be as muchrespected as you now are. My advantages, too, were superior to yours, and yet here am I a prisoner in the House of Correction, deprived of myliberty and in disgrace, while you have already entered upon a splendidbusiness career. And all this difference comes from my having made awrong start. "

Alas! how many human wrecks scattered all along the pathway of lifecould say the same thing, as they compare their present wretchedcondition with that of the prosperous and honored citizens--the solidmen of the community--who were once their schoolfellows, and whoseearly career was perhaps less promising than their own. And all thisdifference, or nearly all, has grown naturally out of the right or wrongstart they took in life. 

Peter Smartweed alone among the conspirators remains to be accountedfor, and this is something that the police could not do. They made acareful search throughout the city for him, but his presence could notbe discovered. It was believed that, fearing arrest, he had suddenlyleft his home and the city in which he had spent his life, when helearned of the fate of Felix Mortimer, his companion in crime. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A GLIMPSE AT THE FUTURE. 

It has not seemed to me desirable to dwell upon Mr. Goldwin's businessaffairs--to show the legal squabbles that followed his failure, or topicture in detail the trickery of Breakwell & Co. My aim has been tointroduce only what bore directly upon the career of Herbert Randolph. I will say, however, that the banker's failure did not leave himpenniless, as young Randolph feared it might. He was badly crippled atfirst, but certain securities turned over to him by Breakwell & Co. , which at the time of the failure possessed but little market value, began at the end of a few months to advance rapidly. When they hadreached a point at which it seemed to him advisable to sell he closedthem out at a price that enabled him to pay off all his obligationswithout drawing upon his personal property for a penny. He was, therefore, still a wealthy man, and was not forced to reduce his styleof living in the slightest degree. 

With this simple statement I leave the past to record a conversation inwhich the reader will catch a glimpse of the future, in so far as itrelates to some of those who have been most conspicuous in this story. 

Young Randolph had now become a frequent visitor at Mr. Goldwin'shome, where, notwithstanding the many attractions of a great city, he spent the happiest hours of his life. Bob Hunter, moreover, was notan entire stranger at this handsome residence. His visits, though, werefew in comparison to those of his partner, and this was due to twocauses--first, a decided reluctance to leave his books, for he hadbecome a most industrious student, and second, the lack of so delightfulan attraction as that which turned the steps of the young Vermonter sooften towards the Goldwin home. 

It was now midwinter. Herbert and Bob had been in business togethernearly nine months, in which time they had by hard work and splendidability lifted themselves from poverty and drudgery to a position ofprosperity. In an up town savings bank a snug sum of money was depositedto their credit, and this was in excess of the amount used in theirbusiness, which had become so large that a good working capital wasnecessary. 

One day they received a letter from Mr. Goldwin inviting them to dinewith him and his family on the following evening. The letter stated, moreover, that he wished to talk with them about a matter in which hethought they would feel an interest. 

"What can he wish to talk over with us?" said Bob. 

"I have been speculating on that same point, " replied Herbert. 

"And you came to no conclusion?"

"No, I really cannot imagine his purpose. "

"It may be about business, " suggested the junior partner. 

"You may be right, Bob, but it hardly seems probable that he would wantto talk with us about business. "

"But you say he has often talked with you about it when you have been athis house. "

"So he has, in a general way, " replied Herbert, "but I supposed that wasjust to fill in conversation. "

"A mere matter of curiosity to know how we were doing?"

"Yes. "

"It's possible, though, that he had other objects in view. "

"Possible, well, yes; but not probable. "

Thus the boys speculated upon Mr. Goldwin's purpose, as they went abouttheir work--speculated and wondered till they found themselves at histable, where all thought of this character was driven from their mindsby the pleasant conversation that followed. 

It was only fifteen months before this that two boys met as if by chancein City Hall Park one brisk October morning--one a country lad freshfrom the rocky hills of old Vermont, the other a keen eyed, bright facednewsboy of New York. Look at the group around this table, and tell meif you can see these chance acquaintances--the boy whose every actproclaimed him a farmer's son, or the other--the shabbily dressedproduct of a metropolitan street. And if perchance by voice or featureyou recognize the boy of education and ambition, look again, I urge you, that you may find his friend. "There is but one boy present beside himof the farm, " I hear you say, "and surely it cannot be he, so welldressed and grown so tall, whose language bespeaks a well bred lad. " Butlook yet once more, I pray you, and behold the sparkle of his eyes, theold time humor playing over his features, and--ah! now he laughs andshows his dimples once again--the same on either cheek reflecting themerriment he feels. You yield at last, puzzled though I know you are, and the question you would put to me--"How came it so, this marvelouschange in these two boys?" I will answer--THEY WORKED AND STUDIED. 

[Illustration: BOB HUNTER, THE STUDENT AND YOUNG BUSINESS MAN. ]

When dinner was over Mr. Goldwin and the two boys repaired to thelibrary. After a little preliminary talk the former said, "I am contemplating going into business again. "

"Your old business?" asked Herbert. 

"Yes, " replied Mr. Goldwin, rather deliberately, resting comfortably inhis easy chair and toying with his eye glasses. "I am better fitted forthat than any other. But my object is not wholly to make money, thoughof course there is always pleasure in doing so. My purpose is rather toprovide myself with some light employment that would interest me, butwhich would not be too severe a tax upon my strength. I have also asecondary object in this connection, " he continued, addressing Herbert, "and that is a desire to put you and Bob in the way of entering a firstclass brokerage business much sooner than you could hope to if left toyour own efforts. I have watched both of you carefully and with thekeenest interest. The ability you have each shown in conducting yourstamp brokerage convinces me that you are capable of moving up higher, and therefore it gives me pleasure to offer you an interest in thebusiness that I am about to start. "

"But the money!" exclaimed both boys, speaking at once and almostdoubting their own senses, yet expressing in their looks thanks moreeloquent than words could have conveyed. 

"The money question can be arranged all right, " replied Mr. Goldwin. "Ican supply the necessary sum in excess of your capital. "

"I can hardly realize such an opportunity as open to us, " said Herbert, adding words of warmest thanks. 

"Neither can I, " remarked Bob, no less expressive in his gratitude toMr. Goldwin. 

"Doubtless it is a surprise to you, " replied the latter; "but the ideahas been growing with me for several months, and now I am ready to makeyou this proposition. You of course know that you are not old enough tobecome legal partners. It will therefore be necessary to conduct thebusiness under my own name, and as this was my old business name it willbe better than a new one. "

"We certainly shall not object to that, " said Herbert; "but how can webecome members of the firm if not legal partners?"

"You can become practically members, though not real members, " returnedMr. Goldwin. "That is to say you can draw a certain percentage of theprofits in return for your capital and services. My proposition thenis this: I will open an office and take both of you boys in with me, allowing you one half of the profits until you become of age; then wewill organize a partnership, and each own a third of the business. Bythat time your profits, if you do not spend too much money, will enableyou to own your interests clear of all incumbrance. Your presentbrokerage business can be done from our office, and that I shall wantBob to attend to at first, while you, Herbert, I shall expect to bearthe brunt of the burden in our regular business. Your experience with mebefore my failure taught you what is to be done. We will commence in asmall way at first, and I shall not do very much work myself. I will ofcourse keep an eye on everything, and may bring many of my old customersback to us. Now you have heard my proposition, " continued Mr. Goldwin, "how do you like it?"

"I could not possibly like anything better, " replied Herbert, "but itseems too good to be true--more like an air castle than a fact. "

"So it seems to me, " added Bob. 

"But it is a fact, " laughed Mr. Goldwin, enjoying the surprise of thetwo young partners, "and I am ready to start the ball rolling at once. "

"We will certainly accept the proposition, then, " said Herbert, speakingfor himself and Bob; "which is, as I understand, that you are to drawone half of the profits, and that Bob and I will each get one quarter?"

"Yes, that is correct, up to the time you both become of age, " repliedMr. Goldwin. 

"After that we are to become equal partners?" said Bob. 

"Yes, and of course each draw one third of the profits, " returned Mr. Goldwin. "Whenever our new business, " he continued, "becomes largeenough to demand Bob's full time, I should advise selling the stampdepartment. Until then, however, we will hold it, as it pays a handsomelittle income which will swell our first year's profits considerably. "

"Are you not ready for our game of chess, Mr. Randolph?" said RayGoldwin, appearing in the library door. 

"That depends upon your father's wishes, " answered Herbert, all tooanxious to join her. 

"What say you, papa?" appealed Ray. 

"Your wishes are law with me, my dear, " said the father, with a happysmile. "Go, Herbert, and win if you can. "

"But the business, " suggested young Randolph, as he quickly joined Rayin the doorway. 

"Ah, never mind that now; the game will suit you better, and besides Boband I can arrange the few details yet to be talked over. "

THE END. 

_Those who have enjoyed reading_ THE BOY BROKER _would probably find_MR. MUNSEY'S "AFLOAT IN A GREAT CITY" _equally interesting. It covers388 pages--large, clear type, and is handsomely printed and bound. Itcan be had from your book store or from the publishers, by mail. Price$1. 25. _

 FRANK A. MUNSEY & CO. , PUBLISHERS, _81 Warren Street, New York. _

 * * *

 _From the New York Daily Sun. _ "Afloat in a Great City" recounts the strange adventures on land and sea of a kidnaped boy. The moral of the story is sound. 

 _From the Boston Daily Advertiser. _ "Afloat in a Great City" is an excellent book for boys. * * * It is well and simply told, and cannot fail to interest those for whom it was written. 

 _From the Brooklyn Standard-Union. _ "Afloat in a Great City" is a stirring story of the life of a boy cast upon his own resources in New York. His adventures are told with much spirit, and are worth the telling. 

 _From the Boston Beacon. _ "Afloat in a Great City" seems healthy and pleasant reading for a boy who does not care particularly about being a pirate or a cowboy, but likes to have his blood gently stirred. 

 _From the Chicago Times. _ The material is cleverly worked up, and, although the general drift of the tale is obvious to the experienced novel reader before he has gone very far, the author still has in store for him some interesting surprises of detail. 

 _From the New York Daily Graphic. _ "Afloat in a Great City" recites the history and thrilling adventures of a brave lad whose earliest recollections of life find him an orphaned waif in the streets of New York. He has the right sort of blood and grit in him. * * * * It is a strong, wholesome and dramatic bit of fiction. There are no wearisome homilies in it, yet everywhere it incites to truthfulness and manliness. It is well and copiously illustrated. 

 _From the Evening Telegram, New York. _ It is not specifically stated upon the title page that this is a book for boys, but it is evident from subject and treatment that it is intended to be so. There has been a great variety in the stories published for a _clientele_ of this nature, and the space left for evolution between "Sandford and Merton" and "Tom Brown's School Days" is very wide indeed. It has been well traversed and greatly improved upon. Mr. Munsey, author of "Afloat in a Great City, " understands that boys like to read of adventure, whether it takes place upon the high seas or in the heart of Africa, or whether it is limited by the boundaries of the American metropolis. He has chosen to condense a good many strange and unusual incidents as happening to a good and stout hearted though poor boy within the circumference of New York City. Mr. Munsey is a healthy expert at this sort of business. He does not work upon morbid sympathies, or seek to become interesting by appealing to emotions which had better be left in the background so far as the class for whom he writes is concerned.