CHAPTER VII.
A MIDNIGHT ALARM.
The labor of sight-seeing had so wearied Josiah that his eyes closed very quickly after getting into bed, despite the unpleasantness of his surroundings; and he did not return from dreamland until at an early hour next morning, when the sudden clash of heavy wheels, the clang of gongs, and the hoarse rush of escaping steam, brought him from the bed to his feet trembling with undefined fear.
“Hurry up and get into your clothes!” Tom cried. “There’s a fire, an’ it sounds as if it was right here in the court.”
Josiah’s only experience in such matters had been when Deacon Fuller’s barn burned, and he and his father watched it, unable to do anything toward fighting the flames because of lack of water.
Therefore he was thoroughly alarmed, believing Tom’s home would be destroyed, and these fears caused him to be awkward in making his toilet.
At first he could not find his clothes; and when this had been finally accomplished, it seemed impossible to get them on. After what appeared to be a very long while he succeeded in dressing himself, and, seizing the heavy valise, followed Bob and Tom, who had already begun to descend the stairs.
The heavy panting of the engines, the firemen’s hoarse commands, and the running to and fro of people who were pouring from the tenements of the court, made a most terrific din.
Here and there great fiery eyes stared out of the darkness, causing those who passed in front of them to look like shadowy giants, while the network of hose extending in every direction, and from which tiny streams of water were spurting, formed for the country boy a picture which was not less alarming than bewildering.
“The fire’s on the other side of the street,” Tom said a moment later, “an’ I guess there ain’t any chance the court will be burned, but it makes a good show if you never saw such a thing in the city before.”
Josiah looked in vain for the flames.
The glowing furnaces of the engines seemed to him more dangerous than any hidden conflagration could possibly be; and in fear and trembling he stood behind his companions, pressing close against the wall of a building, until Tom chanced to see the heavy burden he was carrying.
“What did you bring that valise for?” he asked, laughing heartily.
“I’d rather have it in my hands if the house is goin’ to be burned,” Josiah replied timidly; and then, after no little urging, Tom succeeded in inducing him to give up the valuable baggage that he might carry it back, while Bob, with a bravery which the boy from the country thought foolhardiness, made his way among the panting engines in order to show his guest the method of fighting fire in the city.
It was not such an investigation as pleased Josiah, this going to and fro among the monsters which swayed back and forth under the pressure of steam as if about to explode, and being treated to frequent shower-baths from the leaking hose, or almost overturned as the busy firemen rushed past.
Even before Tom returned he persuaded Bob to go back to the court where they might at least be in a place of comparative safety.
During half an hour he remained gazing at the building which was supposed to be food for the flames, and then the din lessened.
One by one the heavy, noisy machines were drawn away, the serpent-like lengths of hose were rolled on the carriages, and when Tom announced that the fire was extinguished, Josiah was even more mystified than before.
“That’s the funniest kind of a fire I ever saw,” he said as they returned to their room, debating whether it would be best to retire once more, or dress themselves for the day’s pleasuring, for the shadows of night had already given way before the coming dawn. “At Berry’s Corner people have to carry water in buckets.”
“It ain’t very often you have a chance to see a fire in the city, ’cause the engines get to work so quick,” Bob explained; and then he told of a conflagration near the docks which he and Bob had seen, until by the time the story was finished Mrs. Bartlett called them to breakfast.
After the meal was brought to a close, Josiah wished to visit Chatham Square in the hope of seeing Sadie; but Tom and Bob decided against anything of the kind.
They had planned to spend this day in Central Park; and, despite Josiah’s desire to meet the girl who had been so kind to him, he was obliged to accompany his friends, or be guilty of rudeness by questioning their judgment in preparing a programme which was intended for his especial benefit.
“You see, it don’t look very nice to be runnin’ ’round with a girl, an’ the fellers will make all kind of fun of you,” Bob said in a fatherly tone. “Of course, if we’re anywhere near Chatham Square it’s no harm to go an’ talk with her; but this pullin’ Sadie along with us everywhere ain’t the right way at all. Things are different in the city, you know, from what they are in the country.”
“Yes, I know,” Josiah replied mildly; “but you see she was so awful good to me when I lost my way an’ was feelin’ bad, that it don’t seem as if I could do too much to square things up with her. It ain’t likely she gets a chance to go off on such times very often.”
“I don’t reckon she does,” Tom replied; “but she can’t count on stayin’ with us, ’cause it would spoil all the fun to begin with, an’ then agin, no feller could help laughin’ if he saw her with us. We wanter go by ourselves, an’ do the thing up in style, that’s what we’re after.”
“I won’t talk any more about it now,” Josiah said; “but I’ve got to see her again before I go home.”
“There’ll be plenty of chance for that. She’s allers up there sellin’ matches. When we haven’t got anything better to do, Bob an’ I’ll go with you. Now come on, ’cause we wanter scoop in all we can.”
Josiah followed his friends out of the dirty court into the noisy street, and down to the Sixth Avenue elevated railway station, where he clambered up the stairs with no slight degree of trepidation, for this “goin’ on the roof to find a train of cars” was something so novel in his experience as to be almost alarming.
First he feared the stair-way was not sufficiently strong to bear in safety all the people crowded upon it, and then he began to feel quite positive the small pillars which upheld the tracks would be crushed beneath the weight of the train.
Tom and Bob enjoyed his nervousness.
Previous to this time they had failed to show their guest anything which impressed him quite as much as they desired; but now their efforts were crowned with success, and it was in the highest degree satisfactory to them.
“I would have been willin’ to pay ten cents rather than not seen him fidget ’round as he’s doin’ now,” Tom whispered to Bob as Josiah, standing near the news-counter, shrank back from the edge of the platform lest he should be thrown into the street by the throng of passengers around him.
Josiah managed to hide his fears after a few moments, greatly to the disappointment of his friends; and when he entered the cars there was no thought of the match-girl, for this being able to look in at the second or third story windows of the buildings which they passed was something so strange that there was no room in his mind for anything else.
“I’ll bet Tim Berry’s eyes will stick out when I tell him of this ride,” he said in a confidential whisper to his friends. “He never saw anything like steam-cars runnin’ in the air, an’ jest as likely as not won’t be willin’ to believe what I tell him.”
“This ain’t nothin’ at all to what you’d see if you went up Harlem way,” Bob replied. “Why, there the tracks are higher from the ground than the top of that steeple, an’ it looks like as if the cars would tumble right off when she swings ’round a curve.”
“Ain’t we goin’ there?” Josiah asked.
“I don’t reckon it would pay. You know we wanter put in all the time we can in the park; but we’ll see how things turn out after we’re ready to go home.”
Josiah was really sorry when Tom whispered that they were to leave the cars at the next station; for it seemed to him that he would be satisfied to do nothing else all day but “ride in the air,” as it appeared they were now doing.
On descending to the street once more, Bob began the pleasuring by purchasing a pint of peanuts; and, contentedly munching them, the three entered the park.
Here, to the disappointment of his hosts, Master Shindle evinced neither surprise nor delight at what he saw.
“Don’t you think it’s great, up here?” Bob asked, after they had walked a long distance in almost perfect silence, save for the crunching of nut-shells as they extracted the meat.
“Yes, oh yes,” Josiah replied. “It’s good enough for a field, I s’pose; but it seems to me they’d make more money to put it in crops, than lay all this land down to grass, an’ I notice they don’t pick the rocks out. Now, if there was as big a ledge in our mowin’ field as that, father’d have had it blasted in less’n no time.”
“But they don’t run a farm here, you know. This is only for the folks to look at,” Bob explained.
“And do people travel out here jest to see a mowin’ field?”
“Yes, with all the other things.”
“Well, they oughter go to Berry’s Corner, an’ see Deacon Jones’ meadow; a hundred acres, an’ not a rock on it; jest as smooth as a floor. He wouldn’t have these bushes on his place no more’n he’d fly.”
It was not until they had arrived at the lake, and he saw the marble bridge and the playgrounds, that Josiah condescended to be more than mildly interested in the surroundings.
Then he was willing to admit that this might be more beautiful than “Deacon Jones’ meadow,” and Bob began to have great hopes of surprising him before the visit had come to an end.
“Jest wait till we get down where the animals are! That’s what’ll knock your eye out!”
As a matter of course the party indulged in a boat-ride, and after making a complete circuit of the lake three times, were ready to “take in” the zoölogical collection.
Josiah was not willing to move quite as rapidly as his friends desired.
He was deeply interested in the throngs of people around him in holiday attire, and found quite as much to amuse in the ever-changing scene near the boat-landing as he had in front of the shop windows, while Bob and Tom thought only of reaching the monkey-house that they might enjoy the antics of those animals.
“Come on! It’s foolish wastin’ so much time here when there’s lots more to be seen,” Bob said impatiently. “I thought we’d better strike this place first, an’ then we could stay as long as we wanted with the animals.”
“I’m comin’,” Josiah replied, and during two or three moments he remained close behind his friends; but then, as the oddest kind of a vehicle, which he fancied was a stage-coach, drove past with four horses, a remarkably well-dressed driver, and a man on top who played on a long horn, he forgot the necessity of keeping very near his guides.
Now, while neither Bob nor Tom had seen so many tally-ho coaches as to treat them with indifference, this one was not so very remarkable as to cause any surprise or comment on their part; and they continued on rapidly, heeding not the fact that Josiah was still standing in open-mouthed astonishment, gazing after the swell equipage.
It was quite as easy for him to lose his guides in the park as on the city streets; and Josiah was very soon made aware of this, for when the coach was lost to view in the distance he started on in the direction he believed had been taken by his companions, but it was not possible to see them even after five minutes of rapid traveling.
“Well, I’m lost again,” the boy from Berry’s Corner exclaimed, as he came to a full halt. “It seems to me that’s about all I’m doin’ in this town; but I won’t make a chump of myself by walkin’ alone. I’ll wait right here till they come,” and he seated himself on a convenient bench, resolving to remain there as long as might be necessary.
Time did not hang heavily on his hands, owing to the vehicles which were constantly passing, thus affording him ample amusement; and it would have been impossible for him to say whether one minute or twenty had elapsed since he lost sight of his friends, when a boy, apparently several years older than himself, came toward him in an officious manner, rattling half a dozen pennies in his hands as he said sharply:—
“Well, come down with the stuff. I can’t wait ’round here all day, ’cause there are too many other fellers to watch for.”
“You needn’t stay a single minute on my account,” Josiah replied, determined not to allow himself to be deceived again, as in the case of the supposedly necessary visit to the mayor.
“Oh, don’t be funny! Come down with the stuff!”
“Look here, what’s the matter with you?” Josiah asked impatiently. “What do you want, any way?”
“You don’t b’long in this city, do you?” the boy asked sharply.
“Of course I don’t.”
“Well, then, what are you doin’ up here?”
“Jest come to look ’round with Tom an’ Bob.”
“Do they live in town?”
“Of course. Down in Baker’s Court.”
“Have you got your ticket?”
“What ticket?”
“To see the park, of course. Did you pay anything when you came in here?”
“Bob paid for the peanuts, an’ I whacked up for the boat-rides.”
“There, now you’re gettin’ funny agin! You know what I want! Come, down with it; ten cents, an’ do it quick too!”
“Ten cents for what?” and now Josiah began to think this boy really had some right to address him in such a tone.
“For lookin’ at the Park.”
“But Tom an’ Bob invited me up here with them.”
“I can’t help that. It costs ten cents to come in, an’ that’s all there is to it. You wanter pay quick, or you’ll get inter trouble.”
“But they didn’t tell me anything ’bout it.”
“They live in town. It don’t cost them anything; but all fellers from the country have to pay.”
Josiah looked around eagerly in the hope that his friends might be in the immediate vicinity; but in this he was disappointed.
He could see no one whom he thought he might venture to ask for information, and the boy who claimed the right to collect money for sight-seeing was growing more and more impatient each instant.
“I’d rather wait till they come back.”
“Well, you can’t. I’ve got to go all the way ’round the lake in an hour, an’ if I have such trouble with every feller as I do with you, it’ll take me a week to fix things.”
The boy was standing directly in front of Josiah by this time, and looked so threatening that the visitor from Berry’s Corner did not dare to prolong the interview.
It was with the greatest reluctance that he drew from his small hoard a dime, and, holding it between his thumb and finger as if unwilling to part with it, asked:—
“What do I get when I give you this?”
“Get? Why you have the chance of seein’ all there is here. What more do you want?” and without further ceremony the alleged collector took the money from Josiah’s fingers, walking rapidly away.
“Look here!” the latter shouted. “S’pose’n somebody else comes ’round collectin’ ten-cent pieces, how’ll they know I’ve paid?”
“That’ll be all right. I’m the only one at this end of the park,” and the boy hurried away as if fearing some of the pedestrians might inquire the meaning of this rather odd question.
“Well, it strikes me I’m goin’ it pretty stiff. It cost me fifteen cents in them boats, an’ now ten more’s twenty-five. If we’re goin’ to stay all day I sha’n’t have any money left when I get home,” Josiah said ruefully, and just at that instant a cry from the opposite side of the driveway caused him to spring to his feet.
“Why didn’t you keep close to us?” Bob asked with just a shade of petulance in his tones. “If you go to gettin’ lost this way we sha’n’t have any kind of a time, ’cause the whole day’ll be spent huntin’ for you.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Josiah replied penitently; “but while I was lookin’ at the stage you fellers got away. Say, why didn’t you tell me it cost ten cents to see this park?”
“Ten cents to see this park?” Bob repeated in bewilderment.
“Yes; that’s what I jest had to pay.”
“Who asked you for it?” and now both the young gentlemen from Baker’s Court ran quickly to the side of their friend.
Josiah related the interview which he had had with the alleged collector, and when he concluded Bob and Tom burst into a fit of laughter.
“Well, you are too green to live,” Bob said as soon as it was possible for him to speak. “The idea of givin’ up good money to any feller what comes along askin’ for it!”
“But I had to. He was goin’ to make me.”
“Make nothin’! He’d been mighty careful to get away if you’d raised a row. But say, it won’t do for him to go off with that ten cents. Let’s hunt after him!”
Tom was quite as anxious to search for the boy who had robbed their friend; and, under the guidance of Josiah, the three started.
“Are you sure you’ll know him?” Bob asked.
“Indeed I will; but say, fellers, I don’t want to get into any row here jest ’cause of that money. I’d rather give twice as much than have a fuss.”
“There won’t be any trouble. He’ll come down with the stuff as soon as we get hold of him,” Tom replied confidently; and an instant later Josiah cried, as he pointed toward a group of boys standing near a statue:—
“There he is! That feller with the stick in his hand! He’s the one!”
It hardly seemed advisable for the three to attempt any reprisals just at this instant.
The alleged collector had with him six other boys, who were evidently friends, and there was little question but that the effort to force him to give up his ill-gotten gains would end disastrously for the smaller party.
“It won’t do to tackle him yet a while,” Bob said, after mentally taking the measurements of the boy and his friends. “We’ll have to wait a spell, ’cause there’s too many of ’em.”
“By holdin’ back we may never get a chance. Jest as likely’s not they’ll stick together till they go home,” Tom replied.
“But you’d he makin’ fools of yourselves to start in now,” Josiah suggested. “Wait till one of them men in the soldier clothes comes along. Then go right up an’ ask for the dime. He won’t dare to keep it.”
This seemed to be a very good idea; and Bob was willing to act upon it provided it would not be necessary to wait too many moments, for time was of more value just then, in his opinion, than the money which had been extorted from Josiah.
Fortunately they were not delayed a great while, for Bob had hardly hidden himself behind a clump of shrubbery, before two of the park guards were seen approaching from either end of the street; and he called Tom’s attention to the fact by saying:—
“Come on! Now’s our time, an’ we don’t want the policemen to hear if we can help it, ’cause they’ll make us stay as witnesses.”
“Go ahead, an’ I’ll stand right at your back. Give it to him good and strong.”
This advice was not necessary, for Bob was so thoroughly in earnest that he had no idea of “giving it” to him in any other way than “strong.”
The boy who had wrongfully collected Josiah’s dime saw the three as they crossed the street toward him, and, as a matter of course, recognized his victim. He turned as if to beat a hasty retreat, but, seeing the officer, wheeled once more, only to face a second guard, and then stood at bay.
“Look here, young feller, you pulled ten cents outer my friend, an’ I want you to give it back to him mighty quick,” Bob said sternly.
“Oh, you do, eh? S’pose you try to make me.”
“I ’low it wouldn’t be sich a terrible big job, anyhow; but I’ve got other business on hand jest now, an’ I’m reckonin’ you’ll give it up rather’n have me tell a policeman.”
For an instant it seemed as if the boy meditated resistance; and then he must have realized how useless such a course would be, for he delivered the money to Bob, as he started at full speed across the lawn, regardless of the warning signs to “keep off the grass,” striking Josiah a heavy blow on the side of the head as he departed.
“Here, take your dime! I’ll thump the nose offer that feller!” Bob cried angrily, as he handed the money to Josiah, and was on the point of pursuing the enemy, when Tom caught him by the arm.
“Now, don’t go to makin’ a fool of yourself, ’cause they’ll have you in the station-house quicker’n lightnin’ if you try anything like that! Better let him go, an’ say no more ’bout it.”
“But what did he hit Josiah for? I ain’t goin’ to stand still an’ let him thump my visitors.”
“You can’t help yourself, now it’s done. It’s only a case of gettin’ inter trouble if you keep on this way,” Tom said sharply, and Josiah added:—
“Don’t pay any attention to him, Bob. It didn’t hurt me so very much, an’ I oughter got it worse’n that for bein’ so mighty green.”
It was with difficulty that Master Green restrained his anger, and perhaps he might not have been able to do so but for the fact that Tom reminded him they were wasting time which should be spent viewing the animals; therefore he contented himself by saying threateningly:—
“I’ll lay for that feller. Jest as likely’s not we’ll catch him down town sometime, an’ then he’ll find out whether he can come ’round stealin’ money, an’ knocking the heads offer fellers without gettin’ as good as he sends, or not.”
“That’s the style! Wait till we get him on our own ground, an’ then pay him up. Now come on; we’ve fooled more’n an hour away, an’ before you know what’s what it’ll be time to go home.”
Then, without waiting to parley further, Tom started off in the direction of the zoölogical collection, and his companions could do no less than follow.