Richard Dare's Venture; Or, Striking Out for Himself Part 14

"Phat are you going to do?" asked the policeman finally.

"I don't know, I'm sure. My valise is inside with my money. I've only got twenty cents in change in my pocket."

"There's a lodging-house in Washington Street where you can get a bed for that," went on the officer. "But it's not over clean."

"I don't want to go where it's dirty," replied the boy, shuddering.

And for a brief instant a vision of his own neat and tidy cot at home floated through his mind.

"Well, oi dunno; you can't stay out here."

While trying to plan what to do a man turned the corner and came toward them. By the walk Richard recognized Doc Linyard, and with a cry of joy he ran up to the old tar.

"Ahoy! so here you are?" exclaimed the sailor, his face beaming with satisfaction. "A nice chase you've led me! Where did you go to?"

"Nowhere. I stopped to look at some books and then I couldn't find you again," replied Richard. "I'm so glad you've come. They've gone to bed."

"All below decks, eh? Well, it's time. I've spent an hour looking for you over on the Bowery. How are you, Mulligan?" the last to the policeman, who nodded pleasantly.

Producing a key, Doc Linyard opened the restaurant door. Then he handed the policeman a cigar as a reward for the trouble the officer had taken, and he and Richard entered.

The old sailor locked the door carefully behind them and lit a hand lamp that his thoughtful wife had placed upon the front counter.

"I thought such places as this kept lights all night," observed Richard, as they walked back.

"Most of 'em do,--them as has gas. But the insurance companies think oil dangerous, so we do without."

Doc Linyard preceded the boy up a narrow stairway to a small room on the third floor.

"Here you are," he exclaimed, as he set the lamp down on a table.

"Betty got it all fixed for you. There's your valise and the bed's waiting for you. Take my advice and don't get up too early, not afore seven o'clock any way,--and pleasant dreams to you."

"Thank you; the same to you," replied Richard sincerely.

It was a cozy apartment, and the boy had not been in it over five minutes before he felt perfectly at home. Before retiring he sat down to write the promised letter home.

He had no ink; but paper and envelopes had been brought along, and in half an hour his lead pencil had filled several sheets with a very creditable account of what had transpired.

This done he undressed and retired, not, however, before thanking G.o.d for his kind care, and asking for His help and guidance during whatever was to follow.

Despite the varied fortunes of his trip, the boy's sleep was a sound one, and it lacked but a few minutes to seven when he awoke in the morning.

A basin of clean water stood on a stand at the foot of the bed, and after a plunge into this, he dressed, combed his hair, and went below.

Of course the restaurant was already comfortably filled, and as a matter of fact, had been for over an hour.

"h.e.l.lo, my hearty! on deck I see," called out Doc Linyard. "I hope you slept well in your strange bunk." "First rate," was Richard's reply.

"And longer than I expected, too. Guess I'll start right out to look for work.

"Not afore you've had some breakfast. Sit down, and I'll fetch you some coffee and biscuits. Here's the morning papers; you can look 'em over--the Male Help Wanted column. Reckon you'll find something worth trying for."

Finding remonstrances of no avail, Richard sat down and allowed himself to be helped to a morning repast.

While eating he looked over the paper, and found quite a number of places worth hunting up. By the aid of the map Mr. Joyce had loaned him he sorted out the addresses in regular order, and put them down in his note-book.

"Here is that newspaper office order," said the sailor, as Richard was about to leave. "If you're around in that neighborhood in the afternoon just see if there are any answers. One might have come already."

"I will," replied Richard. "Can I leave my valise here?"

"Certainly; I want you to make yourself at home here until you find a better place."

"Thank you. But I must pay you--"

"Not a cent. You helped me, and I'm going to do my duty by you. I'm no land shark."

And the old sailor shook his head in a way that showed he meant every word he said.

BOY WANTED, bright and active; to help feed. Norris Printing Co., Water St., near Wall.

Such was the wording of the first advertis.e.m.e.nt on Richard's list.

He knew Wall Street ran from Broadway opposite Trinity Church, towards the East River, and he was not long in reaching that famous money mart, where millions of dollars change hands each day between the hours of 10 A.M. and 3 P.M. The grand approaches to many of the buildings made him feel timid, and he could not help but wonder if the place to which he was going was also so magnificent.

But Water Street, crooked, ill paved and dirty, was a decided contrast to its neighbor. Storage and warehouses abounded; and the numerous trucks backed up to receive or deliver goods necessitated walking more in the street than on the sidewalk.

The building occupied by the Norris Printing Co. was at length reached.

The office was on the second floor, and climbing up a flight of worn and grimy steps, Richard knocked at the door.

"Come in," said a voice from inside, and he entered.

"I understand you want a boy to help feed," he began, addressing a man who sat at a desk piled with books and printed sheets.

"Apply to Mr. Nelson, in the bas.e.m.e.nt," was the brief reply.

"Yes, sir."

The stairs to the lowest floor were even narrower than the others had been. It led to a pressroom that seemed to be one ma.s.s of motion and noise.

Mr. Nelson proved to be a pleasant man of perhaps fifty.

"Had any experience?" he asked, after Richard had announced his errand.

"No, sir; but I think I can learn as quickly as anybody."

"Perhaps; but we couldn't pay you so much while you were learning."

"How much would you start me at--if I worked real hard?"