The Young Oarsmen of Lakeview Part 36

The young oarsman now felt a trifle lighter in heart. He reasoned that the packet would be of no value to the tramp and that he would be glad to surrender it in hope of a reward. He did not remember at the time that he had written Alexander Sloc.u.m's name and address on the outside wrapper; yet such was a fact.

When Jerry entered the bindery he found several pairs of curious eyes bent upon him from boys of about his own age. Without delay Mr. Grice set our hero to work.

"What is your name?" asked one of the boys, as soon as he had a chance.

"Jerry Upton. What is yours?"

"d.i.c.k Lenning. Say, do you know you have got the job Grice was going to give my brother?"

"No, I don't."

"It's so. Jack was coming to work to-morrow. It ain't fair to take the bread out of a fellow's mouth like that," growled d.i.c.k Lenning.

"I fancy Mr. Islen gave me my position--" Jerry ventured.

"Oh! So it was the boss put you in. Well, it ain't fair anyway. Where do you come from--Brooklyn?"

"No, Lakeview."

"Never heard of it. Must be some country village. You look like a hayseed."

As d.i.c.k Lenning spoke he gazed around to see if Mr. Grice had gone. Then he added in a whisper:

"You have to set up the drinks for the crowd before you can work here, see?"

"Drinks," repeated our hero.

"Sure; all the new hands do that."

"I--I rather think I won't."

"You are too mean."

"It's not that; I don't drink."

"You are a country jay, and no mistake."

d.i.c.k Lenning leaned forward and shoved Jerry with his elbow, at the same time putting one foot behind the youth. He wanted to trip our hero up, but Jerry was on guard, and, resisting him, the young oarsman caused him to slip down against a bench upon which rested a pot of book-binders' glue.

The glue tipped over and part of it went down Lenning's leg, causing him to yell like a wild Indian.

CHAPTER XXIX.

MR. WAKEFIELD SMITH AGAIN.

"I'll hammer you for that!"

"What did he do, d.i.c.k?"

"Knocked the glue over me. You country jay, you!" howled d.i.c.k Lenning, and, leaping up, he bore down on Jerry.

Lenning was a good deal of a bully. He was tall and strong, and evidently he thought he could make our hero submit to his will easily.

"Take that!" he fairly hissed, and aimed a blow at Jerry's ear. The youth dodged it and caught his arm.

"Hold on!" Jerry e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "I don't want to fight. You will only make trouble."

"Let go!"

"Not until you promise to keep quiet."

"I'll promise nothing," stormed Lenning, and began to struggle more excitedly than ever.

But he soon wore himself out, when Jerry got behind him and clasped hands over his breast. The bully was about to call on his friends to a.s.sist him, when a cry went up.

"Cheese it! Grice is coming this way."

As if by magic the boys who had gathered around ran off to their work, leaving the bully and Jerry alone. Our hero released his opponent, and, turning around, Lenning glared at him vindictively.

"I'll get even with you for this, see if I don't," he muttered in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

Then he followed his friends; and Mr. Grice came up and took Jerry to another part of the shop.

"I have changed my mind about letting you work here," he said. "I want you to get used to the place before I put you among those other boys."

Evening found our hero a good deal worn out, not so much by the work as by the close confinement of the bindery. How different life in the great metropolis was to life in the green fields of the country!

After supper Jerry determined to take a walk uptown, to get the outdoor exercise and also in hope of seeing something of the tramp who had taken the packet. He knew that looking for the tramp in the metropolis was a good deal like looking for a pin in a haystack, but imagined that even that pin could be found if one looked long and sharp enough for it.

The young oarsman sauntered forth toward Broadway, and thence past the Forty-second Street depot and up to Central Park. It was a long walk, but he did not mind it; in fact, it seemed to do him good, for it rested his mind.

The window displays interested Jerry not a little, and he took in everything that came along. So the time flew quickly, until, coming to a jeweler's window, he saw it was after ten o'clock.

"I'll have to be getting back," he said to himself, and was on the point of returning when he saw that which surprised him greatly. A cab whirled past the corner upon which he was standing, and on the back seat he recognized Mr. Wakefield Smith.

The pickpocket was alone, and ere Jerry could stop him the cab rolled down the side street out of hearing.

Our hero did not stop long to consider what was best to do, but took to his heels and followed the cab as best he could.

The cab gained a distance of nearly two blocks, and Jerry was almost on the point of giving up, when it came to a halt in front of what looked like a private club-house. Wakefield Smith alighted and paid the cabman, who went about his business without delay.

"Stop there!" cried Jerry to the pickpocket, as the man mounted the steps of the house. But whether the man heard our hero or not, he paid no attention. When Jerry reached the spot he was standing on a low porch.

"Did you hear me?" went on Jerry, and, to prevent Smith from entering the place, our hero caught him by the b.u.t.ton of his coat.