Rough and Ready

CHAPTER XXII.

A RESCUE

Armed with the bat, Rufus took his way up-town. As the distance was considerable, he jumped on board a horse-car. The conductor, noticing the bat, asked him whether he was going to play a game by moonlight.

"Yes," said the newsboy. "I belong to a club called 'The Owls.' We can play best in the dark."

He got out of the car at the point nearest to the place which he had heard mentioned as the probable scene of attack, and walked cautiously towards it. He had no doubt of being in full time, for it was not yet half-past eleven. But circumstances had hastened the attack; so that, as he turned the corner of a quiet side street, he was startled by seeing a gentleman struggling desperately in the hands of two ruffians. He saw at a glance that they were the same he had overheard in the oyster saloon.

The gentleman appeared to be overpowered, for he was on the ground, with one man clutching his throat to prevent his giving the alarm, while the other was rifling his pockets.

There was no time to lose.

The newsboy darted forward, and before the villains were aware that their plans were menaced by defeat, he brought down the bat with force upon the back of the one who had his victim by the throat. The bat, wielded by the vigorous hand of Rough and Ready, fell with terrible emphasis upon the form of the bending ruffian. He released his hold with a sharp cry of pain, and fell back on the sidewalk. His companion looked up, but only in time to receive an equally forcible blow on his shoulder, which compelled him also to desist from his purpose.

At the same time the voice of the newsboy rang out clear and loud on the night air: "Help! Police!"

He sprang to the side of the prostrate gentleman, saying, "Get up at once, sir. We'll defeat these villains yet."

The gentleman sprang to his feet, and prepared to do his part in resisting an attack; but none was apparently intended. The man, who had been struck in the back, was not in a position to do anything, but lay groaning with pain, while the other did not think it expedient to continue the attack under the changed aspect of affairs. Besides, the newsboy's cry for help was likely to bring the police, so that the only thing left was to effect an immediate escape.

He paused but an instant before making his decision; but that instant nearly destroyed his chance. The policeman, who had heard the cry for help, turned the corner hastily, and at once made chase. But by exerting all his strength the fellow managed to escape. The policeman returned, and began to inquire into the circumstances of the attack.

"How did this happen, Mr. Turner?" he inquired of the gentleman, whom he recognized.

"Those two villains attacked me," said the gentleman, "just as I turned the corner. They must have learned that I was likely to have a considerable sum of money about me, and were planning to secure it. Their attack was so sudden and unexpected that they would have accomplished their object but for this brave boy."

"Curse him!" said the prostrate burglar, who was the shorter of the two."I saw him in the oyster saloon. He must have heard what I and my pal were saying, and followed us."

"Did you know anything of this intended robbery?" asked the policeman.

"Yes," said Rough and Ready, "the man is right. I did overhear him and the other man planning it. We were in an oyster saloon in the lower part of the city. I was in one of the little rooms, and they in the other. They were talking it over in a low voice; but I overheard the whole. As soon as I heard it, I determined to stop it if I could. I had no weapon with me, but was lucky enough to buy this bat of a boy I met, and came up at once. I came near not being in time."

"Let me see the bat," said the policeman.

"It's a tough customer," he said, weighing it in his hand; "you settled one of the parties, at any rate."

"Curse him!" muttered the burglar once more.

"Come, my man," said the policeman, "you must go with me. The city provides accommodations for such as you."

"I can't get up," he groaned.

"I guess you can if you try. You can't lie here, you know."

After some delay the man rose sullenly, groaning meanwhile.

"My back is broken," he said.

"I hope not," said the newsboy, who was moved with pity for the burglar, bad as he was.

"Don't pity him too much," said the policeman; "he deserves what he's got."

"I'll pay you off some time, boy, curse you!" said the injured man, with a vindictive glance at Rufus. "I'll give you as good as you gave."

"It'll be some time before you get a chance," said the policeman. "You'll get a five years in Sing Sing for this job."

He marched off with the culprit, and Rough and Ready was left alone with Mr. Turner.

"I don't know how to thank you, my brave boy, for your timely assistance," he said, grasping the hand of the newsboy.

"I don't need any thanks, sir," said Rufus.

"You may not need any, but you deserve them richly. Are you far from home?"

"Yes, sir; but I can take the horse-cars."

"Where do you live?"

"At the Newsboys' Lodging House."

"Are you a newsboy?" asked Mr. Turner, with interest.

"Yes, sir."

"Have you parents living?"

"No, sir, except a stepfather; but he's a drunkard, and I don't live with him."

"Have you any brothers or sisters?"

"A little sister, about seven years old."

"Does she live with your stepfather?"

"I took her away, but Mr. Martin found out where I had placed her, and he managed to get hold of her. I found out to-day where he carried her, and to-morrow I shall try to get her back. He isn't a fit man to have the charge of her."

"And can you support your little sister, and yourself too?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are a good brother, and I believe you are a good boy. I want to know more of you. It is too late to go to the Newsboys' Lodging House to-night. I live close by, and will take you home with me."

"Thank you, sir," said Rough and Ready, bashfully, "but I don't want to trouble you so much."

"There will be no trouble, and I owe something to a boy who has rendered me such a service. Besides, Mrs. Turner will want to see you."

The newsboy knew not what further objections to make, and, indeed, Mr. Turner gave him no time to think of any, for, placing his arm in his, he drew him along. His home was in the next block.

As Rufus ascended the steps, he saw that it was of fine appearance, and a new fit of bashfulness seized him. He wished himself in his accustomed bed at the Newsboys' Lodging House. There he would be under no constraint. Now he was about to enter a home where customs prevailed of which he knew nothing. But, whatever his feelings were, there was no chance to draw back. Besides, the alternative was between accepting Mr. Turner's invitation, and sleeping in the streets, for punctually at twelve o'clock the Lodging House closes, and it would be later than this before he could reach there.

Mr. Turner drew out a night-key, and opened the front door.

The hall was dimly lighted, for the gas was partially shut off. Still the newsboy could see that it was handsomely furnished. How it compared with other houses up-town he could not tell, for this was the first he had entered.

"The servants have gone to bed," said Mr. Turner; "I never require them to sit up after eleven. I will myself show you the room where you are to sleep. Your hat you may leave here."

According to directions, Rufus hung up his hat on the hat-stand. He congratulated himself, as he did so, that he had only bought it the week before, so that its appearance would do him no discredit Indeed his whole suit, though coarse, was whole, and not soiled, for he paid greater attention to dress than most boys in his line of business. This was due partly to a natural instinct of neatness, but partly also to the training he had received from his mother, who had been a neat woman.

"Now come upstairs with me, Rufus," said Mr. Turner, who had made himself acquainted with our hero's name. "I will ask you to step softly, that we may wake no one."

The thick carpet which covered the stairs rendered it easy to follow this direction.

"One more flight," said Mr. Turner, at the first landing.

He paused before a door on the third floor, and opened it.

Rufus followed him into a large and handsomely furnished bedchamber, containing a bed large enough for three, as the newsboy thought.

"I think you will find everything you need," said the master of the house, casting a rapid glance around. "I hope you will have a comfortable night's rest. We have breakfast at half-past seven o'clock. The bell will ring to awake you half an hour earlier."

"I think I won't stop to breakfast," said Rough and Ready, bashfully; "thank you, sir, for the invitation."

"You mustn't think of going away before breakfast," said Mr. Turner; "I wish to talk with you, and my wife will wish to see you."

"But," said the newsboy, still anxious to get away, "I ought to be down-town early to get my papers."

"Let them go one morning. I will take care that you lose nothing by it. You will find a brush and comb on the bureau. And now, good-night. I am tired, and I have no doubt you are also."

"Good-night, sir."

The door closed, and the newsboy was left alone. It had come so rapidly upon him, that he could hardly realize the novel circumstances in which he was placed. He, who had been accustomed to the humble lodgings appropriated to his class, found himself a welcome guest in a handsome mansion up-town. He undressed himself quickly, and, shutting off the gas, jumped into bed. He found it very soft and comfortable, and, being already fatigued, did not long remain awake, as he glided unconsciously into slumber, wondering vaguely what Ben Gibson would say if he knew where he was spending the night.

CHAPTER XXIII.

NEW FRIENDS

Rufus slept so soundly, that his slumber was only ended by the sound of the warning bell, at seven in the morning.

"Where am I?" he thought in bewilderment, as, opening his eyes, his first glance took in the appointments of the bedchamber.

Recollections quickly came to his aid, and, springing out of bed, he began to dress.

His feelings were rather mixed. He wished that he could glide softly downstairs, and out of the house, without stopping to breakfast. But this would not do, since Mr. Turner had expressly requested him to stay. But he dreaded meeting the rest of the family at the breakfast-table. He was afraid that he wouldn't know how to act in such unwonted circumstances, for, though bold enough, and ready enough in the company of boys and out in the street, he felt bashful in his present position.

He dressed himself slowly, and, finding a clothes-brush, brushed his clothes carefully. He arranged his hair neatly at the glass, which, though the news boy was not vain enough to suspect it, reflected the face and figure of a very attractive and handsome boy.

When his preparations were all completed, he sat down in some perplexity. Should he go downstairs? He decided not to do so, for he did not know his way to the room where the family ate breakfast.

"I will wait till I hear the bell," he thought.

He had to wait ten or fifteen minutes, feeling somewhat nervous the while.

At length the bell rang, and Rufus knew that it was time to go downstairs. He looked upon it as rather a trying ordeal, considering that he knew only the head of the family. Just as he was preparing to leave the room, the door was thrown open, and a boy of ten entered impetuously.

"Breakfast's ready," he said; "Pa-pa sent me up to show you the way."

"Thank you," said Rufus.

"What's your name?"

"Rufus."

"There's a boy in my class at school named Rufus, but he don't look much like you. Where's the bat you knocked the robber down with?"

"Here," said the newsboy, smiling.

"I guess you gave him a crack, didn't you? I wouldn't like to get hit with it. Do you play base-ball?"

"Not much."

"What do you want a bat for, then?"

"To knock robbers down," said Rufus, smiling.

"I belong to a base-ball club at school. We call it the "Sea-Birds." We go up to the Park once a week and play."

By this time they had reached the breakfast-room. Mr. Turner, who was already down, advanced to meet our hero, and took him by the hand.

"Did you sleep well, Rufus?" he said.

"Yes, sir. I only waked up when the bell rang."

"It was late when we retired. Louisa, my dear, this is the young lad who bravely came to my rescue when I was assaulted by two robbers."

Mrs. Turner, who was a pleasant-looking lady, took his hand cordially. "I am very glad my husband brought you home," she said. "I shudder to think what would have happened, if you had not come up. I shouldn't have minded the money; but he might have been killed. I don't see how you could have had the courage to attack them."

"I had a stout club," said Rufus; "if it hadn't been for that, I couldn't have done any good."

"Nor would the club have done any good, if it hadn't been in the hands of a brave boy," said Mr. Turner. "But the breakfast is getting cold. Let us sit down."

Rufus took his seat in a chair indicated to him. He was glad to find that he was seated next to the boy, who had shown him the way downstairs, for with a boy he felt more at home than with an older person.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Walter," was the reply. "I'm named after my Uncle Walter. He's travelling in Europe. Are you in a store?"

"No."

"Do you go to school?"

"No, I sell papers. I'm a newsboy."

"Do you make much money?"

"About eight dollars a week."

"That's a good deal. I only get fifty cents a week for spending money."

"Which is twice as much as you ought to have," said his father. "I'm afraid you spend most of it for candy."

"I didn't know newsboys made so much money," said Walter.

"Rufus has a sister to support," said Mr. Turner. "You wouldn't think eight dollars much, if you had to pay all your expenses out of it, and support a sister besides."

"What is your sister's name?" asked Mrs. Turner.

"Rose."

"A very pretty name. How old is she?"

"Seven years old."

"That's just as old as my sister Carrie," said Walter; "here she comes. She's so lazy she always gets up late in the morning."

"No, I don't either," said the young lady referred to; "I'm not so lazy as you are, Master Walter."

"Well, then, why didn't you come down earlier?"

"Because I had to have my hair braided," said Carrie.

"Didn't I have to brush my hair?" said Walter.

"Your hair doesn't look as if you had spent much time on it," said his father.

"Pa-pa," said Walter, as he helped himself to a second piece of toast, "I wish you'd let me stop going to school, and sell papers."

"Do you think that would be a good plan?" asked his father, smiling.

"Yes, I could earn money, you know."

"Not much, I think. I suppose, if I agree to that arrangement, you will promise to pay all your expenses out of your earnings."

"Yes, I guess I could," said Walter, hesitating, "I can learn the business of Rufus."

"I don't think you'd like it very well," said our hero, amused.

"Don't you like it?"

"I don't think I should like to sell papers all my life."

"What are you going to do when you are a man?"

"I can't tell yet."

"By the way, Rufus, I should be glad to have you call at my counting-room, No. – Wall Street, this morning."

"Thank you, sir," said Rufus; "but I should prefer to call to-morrow. This morning, I am going over to Brooklyn to see if I can recover my sister."

"To-morrow will answer just as well. Don't fail to come, however, I wish to have a talk with you about your prospects."

"I will not fail to come," answered the newsboy.

Rufus did not find it so embarrassing as he anticipated at the breakfast table. His young neighbor, Walter, plied him with questions, many of which amused him, and occasionally his sister Carrie, on the opposite side of the table, joined in. Mrs. Turner asked him questions about his little sister, and sympathized with him when he described the plot by which she had been taken from him.

"Do you know Latin?" inquired Walter.

"No," said Rufus.

"I don't see what's the use of studying it, for my part. I never expect to talk Latin."

"I don't think you ever will," said his father; "judging from your school report, your success has not been very brilliant in that study, so far."

"I know one Latin sentence, anyway," said Walter, complacently.

"What is it?"

"Sum stultus."

"I regret to hear it," said his father, in a tone of amusement.

"Why?" asked Walter, surprised.

"Do you understand the meaning of the words you have just used?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, what is it?"

"They mean, 'I am good.'"

"Indeed,—I had an idea that their meaning was quite different. Suppose you look out stultus in your dictionary."

"I am sure I am right," said Walter, confidently. "I will prove it to you."

He got his dictionary, and looked for the word. He looked a little abashed when he found it.

"Well," said his father, "what does it mean?"

"I am a fool," returned Walter.

At this there was a laugh at Walter's expense. Breakfast was now over, and they rose from the table.

"I hope you will come and see us again," said Mrs. Turner.

"Thank you," said our hero.

"Come again, Rufus," said Walter; "I'm making a boat, and perhaps you can help me. I'd show it to you, only I've got to get ready to go to school. I'm going to sail it in the bath-tub."

"I shall expect to see you at my office, to-morrow," said Mr. Turner, as Rufus took his leave. "Don't forget the number, – Wall Street."

The door closed behind him, and Rufus descended the steps. On the whole, he was glad now that he had remained to breakfast. It had not proved so trying an ordeal as he anticipated, and he felt that he had acquitted himself pretty well under the circumstances. It occurred to him that it would be very pleasant to live in the same way if he could afford it; not that he cared so much for himself, but he would like it if Rose could have the same advantages, and live in as pleasant a home as Carrie Turner.

This recalled to his mind that Rose was still in the power of his stepfather, and if he wished to secure her it would be well to lose no time. He jumped on a horse-car, and rode down-town. As he got out, Ben Gibson, who had just finished a job, caught sight of him.

"Why wasn't you at the Lodge last night?" he asked.

"A gentleman invited me to stop at his house up-town."

"Oh, yes, of course," said Ben, incredulously.

"It's true. But I want you to go over to Brooklyn with me, and show me just where Mr. Martin lives. You shan't lose anything by it. I'll tell you about my adventure last night, as we are walking along."

"All right," said Ben; "my health's getting delicate, and a trip to Brooklyn will be good for it."

Ben shouldered his box, and the two boys bent their steps towards Fulton Ferry.

CHAPTER XXIV.

MR. MARTIN HAS AN IDEA

We must now return to Rose, whom we left confined in the cellar. Now, a cellar is not a very pleasant place, and Rose had a dismal time of it. She was considerably frightened also, when, as she sat on the lower step of the cellar stairs she saw a large rat running rapidly past. It is not to be wondered at that Rose was alarmed. I know many persons much older who would have done precisely what she did under the circumstances, namely, scream with all their might.

The little girl's scream brought Mrs. Waters to the door at the head of the stairs.

"What are you howling at?" she demanded, roughly.

"I just saw a big rat," said Rose. "Do let me come up; I'm afraid he'll bite me."

"Most likely he will," said Mrs. Waters. "But I can't let you come up. You've acted too bad. Next time you'll find it best to behave. And, mind you don't yell again! If you do, I'll come down and give you something to yell for."

Saying this, she slammed the door, and returned to her work, leaving Rose in a very unhappy state of mind. She sat in momentary expectation of the reappearance of the rat, thinking it very likely it would bite her, as Mrs. Waters had told her. She began to cry quietly, not daring to scream, lest Mrs. Waters should carry out her threat and give her a whipping.

At the end of an hour—it seemed more like a day to Rose—Mrs. Waters came to the door, and said, "You can come up now, if you can make up your mind to behave yourself."

Rose needed no second invitation. She ran upstairs hastily, under the impression that the rat might pursue her, and breathed a sigh of relief when she was fairly out of danger.

Fanny was sitting at the table, eating a piece of apple-pie.

"Did the rats bite you?" she asked, laughing maliciously.

"No," answered Rose.

"I wish they had. It would have been such fun to hear you holler."

"You're a mean girl," said Rose, indignantly.

"Hoity-toity! What's all this?" demanded Mrs. Waters. "Have you begun to call Fanny names already?"

"She said she wished the rats had bitten me," said Rose.

"Well, so do I. It would have been a good lesson to you. Now, miss, I've got one word to say. If you abuse and quarrel with Fanny, I'll just put you down cellar again, and this time I'll keep you there all night. Do you hear?"