CHAPTER X.
A DISAPPEARANCE.
Bob and Tom looked decidedly relieved when they returned from the private interview, and there was really no need of questioning them as to the state of their finances.
“It’s all right,” the former said in a tone of relief. “We’ve got our tickets home, an’ sixty cents besides, so I reckon that will be enough to do up all there is here. Now go in an’ have the best time you know how. What do you want to do, Josiah?”
“I’m satisfied jest to walk ’round. There’s no place to go without spendin’ a lot of money.”
“But we’re doin’ the whole figger this time. Tom an’ Bill an’ me can come down any day, while you can’t; so we’ve made up our minds you shall get all that’s goin’, an’ we’ll hold back.”
“But I don’t want to do anything of the kind,” and Josiah looked distressed. “There’s no need of spendin’ more money, an’, besides, I wouldn’t go into what you fellers couldn’t share.”
“Don’t mind ’bout us. We’ll look out for ourselves. What do you want to do?”
“Walk ’round a little while.”
“I’ll tell you what it is, we’re goin’ in swimmin’,” Bill Foss said decidedly. “I made up my mind this mornin’ that if I got to Coney Island the first thing I did would be to go right inter the water.”
“But it costs as much as twenty-five cents apiece to get a bathin’ suit,” Tom suggested.
“Well, s’posen it does? We don’t want to buy any. I’m goin’ jest as I am.”
“You never could do that! How would you look runnin’ ’round here all wet?”
“I wouldn’t run much till I got dry. What’s the matter with layin’ out on the sand in the sun? I don’t wanter to put on any frills.”
“What do you think of it, Josiah?” Bob asked.
“I don’t b’lieve I’d dare to go in where the waves come up so high, an’ besides, I’d a good deal rather see the things ’round here.”
“I’ll tell you how to fix it,” Tom suggested. “Of course Sadie can’t go in, so what’s to keep her an’ Josiah from doin’ whatever they wanter for half an hour? Then we’ll be dried out, an’ ready to chip in for what they say.”
“That’s the very thing!” and Josiah spoke quickly lest his companions should object to the scheme; for he understood that by inviting Sadie he had not only added to the expense, but curtailed their pleasure to a very decided degree. Since all three of the boys appeared eager for the bath, he preferred seeing the sights in company with the match-girl.
“Where’ll we meet you when we get through?” Tom asked.
“We’ll come right here in half an hour,” and Josiah looked around to make certain of the landmarks in the vicinity.
“Don’t go too far away, else you might not get back, an’ we wanter take the boat mighty soon after dark,” Bob said, as Bill, impatient for his bath, hurried away.
“I’ll look out for that,” Josiah replied confidently. “You’ll see us when you’re ready to leave.”
The three boys walked rapidly toward the beach; and Josiah, feeling it incumbent upon himself to play the part of entertainer, led Sadie to a canvas tent, the outside of which was covered with gaudily-painted representations of improbable animals in the most glaring colors.
“Are you goin’ in?” she asked, halting in front of the “band,” which was represented by a hand-organ.
“Yes, we want to see everything, an’ might as well begin right here.”
“But it costs ten cents.”
“I know it, an’ s’pose we oughter wait till the other fellers are with us; but we’ve got to do somethin’, an’ if they wanter see these things I’ll buy ’em tickets when they come back,” Josiah replied. “Then if it ain’t good we sha’n’t be losin’ so much money.”
Five minutes later the boy from Berry’s Corner was decidedly glad he had not waited to invite his friends; for the number of curiosities on exhibition was so small as compared with those seen in the “circus” on Chatham Square, as to make a dime appear a greater extravagance than was the quarter in the purchase of a clam chowder.
“Well, they don’t swindle me that way again,” he said a trifle impatiently as they came out from the tent. “Why, the fellers in Berry’s Corner could rig up a better show than that for ten pins, an’ then not think they was doin’ very much.”
Sadie had nothing to say.
She was vexed because the exhibition was so much less than what it had been represented, but remained silent through fear of adding to Josiah’s disappointment, and the two walked up the beach where there were very many entertaining things to be seen free of charge.
During the next half-hour the sight-seers were oblivious to the passage of time.
A kindly-disposed waiter at one of the saloons on the board-walk allowed them to remain during the performance of an alleged band of negro minstrels, without intimating that they were bringing in no custom to the establishment, and the exhibition was so thoroughly satisfactory that for a while they forgot the engagement which should have been kept some time previous.
“The fellers’ll be waitin’ for us, an’ I expect Bill Foss is pretty nigh fussin’ hisself to death ’cause we don’t come,” Josiah said as he led his companion away from the entrancing spot where the music had held them spellbound. “It must be ’most an hour since we left ’em.”
Sadie, who depended upon her generous friend to show her the way, had given no heed to the direction in which they traveled; and now, when they wished to return, she followed Josiah readily, ignorant of the fact that he was walking directly away from the appointed place of meeting.
The young gentleman from the country believed he had a very good idea of the course which had been pursued, and, as he thought, retraced it correctly, until fifteen or twenty minutes were spent without bringing them to any familiar spot.
Then he halted in dismay, and looked around helplessly.
“We’ve been goin’ wrong,” he said in the tone of one who has made an important discovery; and Sadie replied, as if the matter was of little concern:
“Then we must go right back.”
This was what Josiah most desired; but whether he would be able to do so or not, was another matter.
He could distinguish nothing to guide him on his way, and stood in painful indecision until, noticing a look of anxiety on Sadie’s face, he believed it necessary to prevent her from becoming alarmed, and therefore resolved to act as if confident he knew exactly in which direction to proceed.
It would have seemed a simple matter if he had been able to inquire the way; but, not knowing where he should go until he could see the landmarks before noticed, it was impossible to tell a third party where the boys had agreed to meet him.
In addition to these troubles he was growing weary; but it was necessary to join his friends as soon as possible, and he pushed on at the best pace which he believed Sadie would be able to maintain.
Fifteen minutes more passed, and then the match-girl understood the true position of affairs.
“You don’t know where to go,” she said, halting and looking up into Josiah’s face.
“Well I don’t, an’ that’s a fact.”
“Neither do I.”
“How are we goin’ to find the fellers?” and now Josiah began to grow alarmed. “We can’t go home ’cause Bob has got the tickets, ’cept I pay another fare, an’ I don’t wanter leave while they’re huntin’ for us. I expect Bill Foss is tearin’ mad by this time. It must be as much as two hours since we left ’em.”
“How would it do if I went one way, an’ you the other?” Sadie asked.
“I reckon that would make us worse off than ever, ’cause how could we meet again? S’posen you found ’em, you wouldn’t know where I was.”
“Yes, that’s true; but we mustn’t stand here;” and this time she took the lead, Josiah following meekly behind.
If they could have arrived at the rendezvous at that very moment, they would not have found their friends.
Their hosts and Master Foss were at the appointed place very nearly in due season; and after waiting fifteen or twenty minutes, their impatience became so great that inaction was no longer possible.
“I knew jest how it would be when you brought a girl along,” Bill said angrily; “they’re allers breakin’ up a feller’s snap, an’ why she wasn’t left behind is more’n I know. If that boy from the country is so anxious to have ’em taggin’ ’round after him, let him wait till he goes home. It costs too much for us to come down here, an’ lose the best part of the day jest because of her.”
Inasmuch as Bill had not paid or offered to pay any portion of the expenses, it was unkind, to say the least, for him to make this remark; but neither Bob nor Tom appeared to take any notice of it.
Both were as eager as Bill to enjoy every moment of the visit, but did not feel that they had any right to blame their guest for the delay.
“I s’pose there are so many things to see that he don’t know how long he’s been gone,” Bob suggested. “If you an’ Tom wanter go off, I’ll stay here an’ wait for ’em; we’ll kinder split the thing up so’s you won’t lose a great deal of the sport.”
“There’s no fun if the whole crowd ain’t together,” Master Foss replied with the air of one who is determined to feel thoroughly miserable, and he seated himself in a martyr-like fashion on the edge of the board walk.
During the next five minutes he allowed his friends to see how unhappy they had made him, and then began grumbling once more.
“We might jest as well go home, an’ a good deal better’n to set ’round here. What fun is there in this? I’d rather be up to City Hall Park where the fellers are, an’ besides, see how much money I’m losin’! All this afternoon’s business gone for the sake of hangin’ on to an old sidewalk down to Coney Island.”
Bill continued his complaints in a similar fashion for a long while, without receiving any reply, and then Bob’s patience was exhausted.
“See here,” he said sharply. “Tom an’ me couldn’t help this, an’ I don’t reckon Josiah means to do anything out of the way; but if you feel bad at havin’ to stay here a little while, s’pose you start off by yourself?”
“I don’t wanter go without the crowd; but I’d rather be at home.”
“Here’s your ticket. We’re bound to wait for Josiah if he don’t get back till mornin’, ’cause all we came here for was to give him a good time, an’ I only hope he’s havin’ it.”
“I reckon he is, an’ don’t care anything ’bout what we have to do,” Bill grumbled, but he did not take the proffered ticket.
“You don’t s’pose he’s got lost, do you?” Tom asked, an expression of alarm coming over his face, and Bob cried as he leaped to his feet:—
“That’s jest what’s the matter! They’ve gone off somewhere, an’ don’t know how to get back.”
“Then we’ll have a fine time huntin’ for ’em all night! I guess I’d better go home,” Bill said, and without hesitation Bob handed him the ticket once more.
“There you are! Now do as you’re a mind to. We’ve got to hunt for Josiah. Tom, you go ’round by the water, an’ I’ll skin up this way.”
“Where shall I meet you?” Tom asked, as he turned to obey.
“Down by the dock. I’ll go there if I find ’em, an’ you must do the same.”
Bill made no proposition to aid his friends; but, with his ticket in his hand, went slowly toward the steamboat landing, his eyes fixed upon the ground, as if afraid he might see the lost ones, and thus terminate the search too soon to please him, for he was anxious his friends should, as he expressed it, “get enough of taggin’ ’round with a girl.”
Half an hour later Bob and Tom met at the pier, but neither had seen Josiah, and both felt seriously alarmed.
“Do you s’pose there’s any chance he’ll go home?” Tom asked.
“No, I don’t reckon he’d be likely to do that, ’cause I’ve got the tickets, an’ he wouldn’t wanter put out so much money for nothin’.”
“Then I’m afraid it’ll be a good deal as Bill says. We shall spend the rest of the day, an’ part of the night, huntin’ for ’em.”
“That won’t be such an awful long while, for it’s pretty nigh dark now.”
“What are we goin’ to do?”
“There’s nothin’ for it except to keep right on huntin’. But say,” Bob added, as a happy thought occurred to him, “let’s tell every policeman we meet. They’d be sure to know Josiah, he looks so green, an’ could send him down to the pier. Folks will be goin’ home mighty soon, an’ when there ain’t so much of a crowd here, it’ll be easier to see him.”
This plan was acted upon without delay; and in a short time every officer in the immediate vicinity of the rendezvous knew that “a feller from the country, with a girl what didn’t look very scrumptious,” was lost.
Not until sunset did the two searchers meet again; and, as before, there was nothing for either to report.
Josiah and Sadie had disappeared as completely as if the earth had swallowed them, so far as these two friends of theirs were concerned; and Bob said in a tone of conviction, as he wiped the perspiration from his face:—
“It’s no use talkin’, Tom, they must have gone home; an’ the best thing we can do is to take the next boat, for Josiah is at Baker’s Court by this time.”
“But s’pose he isn’t?”
“There ain’t any s’pose ’bout it. If he’d staid we’d found him before now, an’ the sooner we go, the better.”
Tom made no protest, and the two went on board the steamer, leaving behind Josiah and Sadie, who were still vainly endeavoring to find the appointed place of meeting.