Slow and Sure: The Story of Paul Hoffman the Young Street-Merchant

The two boys kept on their way till they reached the lodging house. All was quiet; for in the day-time the boys are scattered about the streets, earning their livelihood in different ways. Only at supper-time they come back, and in the evening the rooms are well filled. Paul had been here before, not as a guest, for he had always had a home of his own; but he had called in the evening at different times. Julius had often passed the night there, during the lengthened intervals of Jack's enforced residence in public institutions.

They met Mr. O'Connor just coming out.

"How do you do, Paul? I hope you're well, Julius," said the superintendent, who has a remarkable faculty for remembering the names and faces of the thousands of boys that from time to time frequent the lodging house. "Do you want to see me?"

"Yes, sir," answered Paul; "but we won't detain you long."

"Never mind about that; my business can wait."

"Julius wants to go out West," proceeded Paul. "Now, what we want to find out is, when you are going to send a party out."

"This day week."

"Who is going out with it?"

"It is not quite decided. I may go myself," said the superintendent.

"Can Julius go out with you?"

"Yes; we haven't got our full number. He can go."

"Then you're all right, Julius," said Paul.

"What gave you the idea of going out West, Julius?" asked Mr. O'Connor.

"Marlowe's after me," said Julius, briefly.

The superintendent looked mystified, and Paul explained.

"Didn't you read in the papers," he asked, "about the burglary on Madison avenue?"

"At Mr. Talbot's house?"

"Yes."

"Had Julius anything to do with that?"

"Through his means the burglars were prevented from carrying out their designs, and one of them was captured. This was Jack Morgan, with whom Julius lived. The other, a man named Marlowe, got off. As he suspected Julius beforehand of betraying them, and is a man of revengeful disposition, Julius is afraid of staying in the city while he is at large. We both think he had better go West. There he may have a chance of doing well."

"No doubt. Why, some of our boys who have gone out there have grown rich. Others have persevered in seeking an education, and there are lawyers, ministers and doctors, as well as merchants, now prosperous and respected, who graduated from the streets of New York, and were sent out by our society."

The face of Julius brightened as he heard these words.

"I hope I'll do well," he said.

"It depends a good deal on yourself, my boy," said the superintendent, kindly. "Firmly resolve to do well, and you will very likely succeed. You've had a rough time of it so far, and circumstances have been against you; but I'll try to find a good place for you, where you'll have a chance to learn something and to improve. Then it will be your own fault if you don't rise to a respectable place in society."

"I'll try," said Julius, hopefully, and he meant what he said. He had lived among social outlaws all his life, and he realized the disadvantages of such a career. He shuddered at the idea of following in the steps of Jack Morgan or Marlowe—a considerable portion of whose time was spent in confinement. He wanted to be like Paul, for whom he felt both respect and attachment, and the superintendent's words encouraged and made him ambitious.

CHAPTER XXII.

MARLOWE OVERTAKES HIS VICTIM

On emerging into the street the two boys parted company. It was time for Paul to go back to his business. Julius was more indifferent to employment. He had five dollars in his pocket, and forty-five dollars deposited with Paul. Accustomed to live from hand to mouth, this made him feel very rich. It was a bright, pleasant day, and it occurred to him that it would be very pleasant to make an excursion somewhere, it made little difference to him where. The first place that occurred to him was Staten Island. It is six miles from the city or half an hour by water. The boats start from a pier near the Battery.

"Where's he going, I wonder?" thought Marlowe, following at a little distance.

As no conversation had passed between the boys about the excursion, he was quite in the dark; but he was determined to follow where-ever it might be. He soon ascertained. Julius met a street acquaintance—Tom Barker, a newsboy—and accosted him.

"Tom, come with me."

"Where you goin'?"

"To Staten Island."

"What's up?"

"Nothin'. I'm goin' for the benefit of my health. Come along."

"I can't come."

"Haven't you got the stamps? I'll pay."

"I've got to go to Twenty-seventh street on an errand. I'll go with you to-morrow."

"Can't wait," said Julius. "I must go alone."

"Goin' to Staten Island," thought Marlowe, in exultation. "I'll get a chance at him there."

Marlowe had not much money with him, but he had enough to pay the fare to Staten Island—ten cents. So he kept on the track of Julius, and passed the wicket just behind him. The boat was approaching the pier, and they had not long to wait. Julius went to the forward part of the boat, and took a seat just in front of the boiler. Marlowe took a position near, but not too near. He had considerable confidence in his disguise, but did not want to run any unnecessary risk of recognition. It so happened that a few steps from him was a genuine specimen of the profession he was counterfeiting. With the sociability characteristic of a sailor, he undertook to open a conversation with Marlowe.

"Hollo, shipmate!" he said.

"Hollo, yourself!" said the counterfeit, not over pleased with the salutation.

"I thought I'd hail you, seein' we both foller the sea. Have you been long ashore?"

"Not long," answered Marlowe.

"Where was your last v'y'ge?"

"To Californy," answered Marlowe, hesitating.

"What craft?"

Here was an embarrassing question. Marlowe wished his questioner at the North Pole, but felt compelled to answer.

"The—Sally Ann," he answered.