Left Behind Part 1

Left Behind.

by James Otis.

CHAPTER I.

PAUL'S INTRODUCTION TO NEW YORK.

He was a stray boy, with a very strange story. The two ragged boys, one of whom had a bundle of papers under his arm, and the other the outfit of a boot-black slung over his shoulder, thought that at the best he was stretching the truth to an alarming degree, even though his manner appeared to bear out what he said.

He had met these two boys at the corner of Cortlandt and West streets, in New York City, and had stated his case to them, believing that they could tell him what to do. This was the story he told:

The family, consisting of his father, mother, sister, and himself, had come from Chicago for the purpose of sailing in a steamer--which one he was unable to say--for Europe. They went directly from the cars to the pier, and had gone on board the huge vessel which was to be their home while crossing the Atlantic. After they had been there some time, and he could see no evidences that the steamer was about to start, he had asked his mother's permission to go on deck for the purpose of making the acquaintance of a boy about his own age, whom he had seen when they first came on board. The attempt at making the acquaintance was so successful that in five minutes they were firm friends, and in as many more had laid all kinds of plans for future enjoyment.

Both the boys claimed to excel in the art of kinging the ring; but, unfortunately, neither one had a top with him. Then this one who was telling the story proposed that he should go on sh.o.r.e and buy two, while the other remained to inform the absent boy's parents where he had gone.

He had had some difficulty in finding a top to suit him, and he thought that he must have spent at least an hour in the search. When at last he had procured two good ones--and he showed them in proof of the truthfulness of his story--he was nearly as long again in finding his way back to the steamer. Not knowing the name of the vessel, nor the line to which she belonged, he was obliged to visit each pier in succession, in order to find the right one.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HE SHOWED THEM IN PROOF OF THE TRUTHFULNESS OF HIS STORY.]

When, from the appearance of the buildings opposite, he knew that he was back again to the point from which he had started, he learned to his dismay that the steamer had been gone fully an hour. At first he could hardly realize that he had been left behind, while his parents had started on such a long voyage, and he could not account for the neglect of his newly-made friend in not telling them that he had gone on sh.o.r.e, unless it was owing to the fact that he had neglected to point out his father, or to tell what his name was.

After he had fully realized that he was alone in a great city, with no means of providing himself with food and shelter, save through the medium of two very nice tops and six cents, he started in search of the depot which they had arrived at, intending to take the next train back to Chicago, providing the conductor would take his tops in payment. But he could not find the depot, and at nearly seven o'clock in the evening he had stopped to ask advice from two boys of about his own age--neither one of them was over eleven years old--in the hope that they could straighten matters out for him.

These two were very much inclined to doubt his story until he showed the tops as proof, and even then they would have looked upon some portions of it as false had he not also produced the six cents, and with three of them stood treat all round to that sticky delicacy known as "pea-nut taffy."

Then they believed all he had told them, and adjourning to a very broad door-step near by, they sat down to consult upon what it was best for him to do. To begin with, and in order that he might understand the case fully, one of the boys asked, as he struggled with the sticky dainty,

"What's yer name?"

"Paul Weston," replied the stranger.

"Well, my name's Johnny Jones, though the boys call me s.h.i.+ner," said the boy with the papers under his arm, "an' my chum here's named Ben Treat. Now you know us; an' we'll call you Polly, so's to make you feel more's if you was home."

Paul was not just certain as to how far this nickname would go towards making him feel at home, but he did not venture to make any remark upon it, preferring rather that his own condition, and how he could better it, should be the subject under discussion.

Johnny Jones told him at once that his idea of trying to get home by the cars without money enough in his pocket to buy his ticket was an impossibility; for he and Ben had tried riding on the cars without paying for it, even a short distance, and had always come to grief because of either the conductor or the brakemen, whom they looked upon as the natural enemies of boys. It was useless, therefore, to think of getting to Chicago in that way, and Johnny appealed to Ben to decide whether he was right or not.

"It's jest as s.h.i.+ner says," replied Ben, rubbing the end of his nose thoughtfully, as if he believed that gave him more of an air of wisdom. "You couldn't git as far as Newark in a week, 'less you walked, an' you'd better not try it."

"But what shall I do?" asked Paul, in such distress that even the candy failed to soothe him.

"I don't see but one way," said Johnny, gravely, as he took the lump of sweetness from his mouth, lest it should dissolve while he was not able to give it his undivided attention, and he thus lose a portion of the treat. "You'll have to stay here till yer earn money enough ter pay for a whole ticket."

"But how much will that be?" asked Paul, astounded at the careless way with which the boy spoke of such an undertaking.

"I dunno; but it'll be a good deal. We'll find out termorrer." Then Johnny turned his attention to the candy again.

"But I can't earn any money;" and now Paul was on the verge of crying.

"Of course yer can," replied Ben, decidedly. "Yer can sell papers like s.h.i.+ner does, or yer can get a box, an' go inter the same bizness I'm in. Ef yer smart, yer'll git three or four dollars a week, 'cordin' to the weather."

Paul opened his eyes wide with surprise as this enormous amount was spoken of, and he almost forgot his grief in the visions of wealth that floated through his brain.

"s.h.i.+ner an' I hain't got much money in our pockets," continued Ben, "'cause we're buyin' some real estate, an' we put it all in that 'bout as fast as we git it; but we can patch up an' lend you enough to start with, an' you can pay it back when you git the chance."

Surely Paul thought he was fortunate in having made the acquaintance of two boys who were so well off in this world's goods as Ben and Johnny, and his position did not seem nearly as bad as it had half an hour ago, even though it was nearly dark, and he had no idea where he should sleep that night.

He did not know, any more than his newly-made friends did, that by telling his story to the police he would be taken care of until his relatives in Chicago could be written to, and he believed that he must depend upon his own exertions to get home. Therefore he eagerly accepted the generous offer.

"But where can I live?" he asked, as the thought came to him that even though a chance for making himself rich had suddenly presented itself, he was still without a home.

"Didn't Ben tell yer that we'd been 'vestin' our money in real estate?" asked Johnny, almost impatiently, and speaking rather indistinctly because of his mouth being so filled with candy. "We've got a place we bought of d.i.c.key Spry, an' you can stay with us if you pay your share."

Paul was willing to go into any extravagances for the sake of having a home, provided his two tops, and the three cents still remaining of his wealth, was sufficient to make the first payment. This he told his friends.

"s.h.i.+ner didn't mean that you was to pay it right down," said Ben, quickly. "After you git to makin' money for yourself, all you've got to do is to buy your share of the things."

As that was only just, Paul agreed to it, and Johnny, who had by this time succeeded in eating the dark-colored mixture that was by courtesy called candy, started off to dispose of the papers he still held under his arm, while Ben led Paul away with him.

"Johnny has got to 'tend right up to biz," said Ben, in a half-explanatory way, "or else he'd git stuck, you know."

"Would he?" asked Paul, in evident alarm. "Who would stick him?"

Ben looked at this young gentleman from Chicago in surprise, and then in pity. He could not understand how any one, and more especially a boy, could be so ignorant of the meaning of one of the most common words of slang. At first he looked as if he was about to reprove such ignorance; but he evidently thought better of it, for he said, instead,

"I mean that he'd be stuck by havin' a lot of this afternoon's papers left over on his hands, an' he couldn't sell 'em termorrer, you know."

Paul really looked relieved to know that no worse danger threatened Johnny; and as he walked along with Ben, the latter said:

"Yer see, s.h.i.+ner would have been about through work if we hadn't met you, an' fooled away so much of our time. Now it'll take him quite a while to sell out, an' so you an' I might as well go down to ther house. I've had a pretty fair day's work, an' I'll git up such a supper as'll make s.h.i.+ner's eyes stick out more'n a foot."

Just then they were opposite a grocery store, and he went in to begin the work of making his companion's eyes stick out. It was with the air of one who felt able to purchase at least half the store contained, in case he should want to, that he ordered half a pound of bologna sausage, a pound of crackers, and two candles. He was also very careful to see that he was given full weight.

Paul was a little mystified as to what share the candles could have in extending Johnny's eyes; but he thought it better to wait the course of events, rather than to ask any questions.

When Ben had been served, and there had been quite a delay in paying for the articles, owing to his inability to count his money three times, and have it amount to the same sum each time, he came out and completed his purchases by buying a quart of pea-nuts at a stand near by.

"There," Ben said, with evident satisfaction, as he gave Paul one of the bundles to carry, "I guess when s.h.i.+ner gets home, an' finds all these things, he'll think we're havin' a reg'lar party."

Paul agreed very mildly to this a.s.sertion, for he had not been accustomed to look upon such an a.s.sortment as much of a treat, and already he began to have vague misgivings as to the value of the real estate Ben had spoken of so proudly.

To Paul, tired as he was from the walking he had already done, and the excitement through which he had pa.s.sed, it seemed as if they would never reach this place which Ben called home, for his guide turned up one street and down another until he was quite worn out.

"That's the place, jest ahead there," said Ben, in a cautious whisper, as he halted at the corner of a street, and pointed to a small yard in the rear of what seemed to be a warehouse. "That's the place, but we've got to look out that n.o.body don't see us."

Paul believed that his companion referred to the building, and he was surprised to find it so large; yet why they had come around to the rear was more than he could understand.