The Boy from the Ranch Part 14

"Something's the matter. The depot has been cut loose!"

"Cut loose? What do you mean?"

"Why, we're afloat! There's water outside."

"Of course, my dear fellow. We're on the ferry boat, crossing to New York. What did yew think?"

"Are we on a boat?"

"Certainly. Where did you think you were?"

"I thought we were in the depot room, waiting for the boat to come in."

"Why, no. This is the boat. But of course the approach to it is through the depot, and it is hard to tell exactly where the dock leaves off and the boat begins. I should have told you, but I got interested in the paper."

"I was a little startled at first," admitted Roy with a smile. "I thought something had happened."

Several pa.s.sengers who had heard this exclamation, were also smiling, but Roy did not mind this. Everything was so strange and novel that he wanted to see it all at once. It was no wonder that he mistook the boat for the waiting room of the station, as the ferry boat was so broad, and the cabin so large, that often strangers are deceived that way.

De Royster soon took Roy out on the lower deck, and showed him New York, lying across the Hudson river, the sky-sc.r.a.pers towering above the water line, the various boats plying to and fro, and the great harbor.

"It's wonderful! Wonderful!" exclaimed the boy from the ranch. "It's different from what I expected. I never even dreamed New York was like this."

"Wait; you haven't begun to see it."

And, a little later, when they landed, and were crossing West street, with its congested traffic, Roy began to think his companion was right.

For a moment the noise and excitement confused the boy. There were two long lines of vehicles, mostly great trucks and drays, going up and down, for West street is on the water front, adjoining the docks where the steamships come in, and the wagons cart goods to and from them.

Then there was a big throng of people, hurrying to and from the ferries, several of which came in close together. The people all seemed in a rush, a trait, which Roy was soon to discover, affected nearly every one in New York. He saw policemen standing on the crossings, and, whenever the officer held up his hand, the travel of the vehicles stopped as if by magic, leaving a lane for pedestrians to cross.

"He's got them pretty well trained," observed Roy.

"Yes, he belongs to the traffic squad. Any driver who refused to do as the officer says, will be arrested. But come on. I want to take you to your hotel."

Trying to see everything at once, Roy followed his new friend.

Suddenly, as he was in the midst of a press of wagons, men and women, in the middle of the street, he heard a cry:

"Runaway! Runaway! Horse is coming! Look out!"

Instantly the policeman began shoving people to one side, to get them out of the path of the runaway. Truck drivers began pulling their steeds to either curb. Roy looked down the street and saw a horse, attached to a cab, coming on at a gallop. Thanks to the prompt action of other drivers the runaway had a clear field.

"Look out!" shouted the officer. "Hey there, young man!" to Roy. "Git out of the street!"

But Roy had other intentions. He handed his valise to De Royster, who was vainly pulling him by the arm.

"Come on out of here!" cried De Royster. "You'll get run over."

"Take my satchel," said Roy.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to stop that horse!"

"You'll be killed!"

"Say, I guess I know how to handle horses. It won't be the first one I've caught!"

Mortimer De Royster, giving one more look at the maddened animal, which was now close at hand, made a leap for the sidewalk. Roy looked up, gauged the distance, and, to his horror saw that the cab contained a lady and a little girl. There was no driver on the seat.

"Look out! You'll be killed!" shouted several in the crowd.

"The boy's crazy!" muttered the policeman He took a step forward, as if to drag Roy out of the way.

The next instant the boy had made a leap, just as the horse reached him. It was a leap to one side, but not to get out of the way. It was only to escape the flying hoofs, for, an instant later, Roy had the plunging horse by the bridle, and was hanging on for dear life.

CHAPTER XII

AT THE HOTEL

There were confused shouts from the crowd. Several men rushed forward, in spite of the efforts of the officer to hold them back. Women screamed, and several fainted.

The horse was rearing and kicking, but Roy, plucky lad that he was, held on like grim death.

With one hand firmly grasping the bridle, he reached up with the other, and clasped the nostrils of the horse in a tight grip. This served to prevent the horse from breathing well, and, as his lungs needed plenty of air, on account of his fast run, the animal probably concluded he had met his master.

"That's right! Hold him!" called a man. "I'll help you in a minute!"

"I guess I can manage him now," said Roy calmly. "There now, old fellow," he went on, speaking soothingly to the horse. The animal was having hard work to breathe. Roy saw this and loosened his hold slightly. Then he began to pat the horse, continuing to speak to it.

The animal, which was more frightened than vicious, began to calm down.

"I've got him!" exclaimed the policeman, coming up and taking hold of the bridle.

"Oh, he's all right now; aren't you, old fellow?" spoke Roy, as he rubbed the horse's muzzle.

Indeed the animal did seem to be. His dangerous hoofs were still, and, though he trembled a bit, he was quieting down.

"That was a fine catch, my lad," remarked one man. "Where did you learn to stop runaway horses?"

"Out on my father's ranch in Colorado. This is nothing. We have a runaway every day out there. I've often caught 'em."

"Then the city ought to hire a few lads like you to give some of our policemen lessons," went on the man, with a meaning glance at the officer.

"Come now, move on. Don't collect a crowd," spoke the bluecoat gruffly. He was a little bit ashamed that he had not made an attempt to stop the horse, but it was due more to thoughtlessness than to actual fear. Besides, he first considered getting the women out of harm's way.