CHAPTER XXIX. PENNILESS.

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It was daylight when Ralph awakened from what had been an unusually sound sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, wondering for the moment where he was. Then the recollection of what had occurred flashed over his mind. He looked beside him, and saw that Jackson Walters had gone.

"He must have dressed and left me to sleep it out," he thought. "I wonder what time—hallo! what does that mean?"

Ralph had espied his clothing in a heap on the floor, most of the pockets inside out. With a strange fear he leaped from the bed and made a hasty examination. It was only too true—he had been robbed.

"That fellow was nothing but a sharper!" he ejaculated to himself. "What a fool I was to be taken in by his smooth tongue! He took me for a greeny from the country, and he was right."

Ralph did not know enough to ring for the proprietor of the hotel and acquaint him with the facts in the case. He scrambled into his clothing as best he could, and washed and brushed up all in a minute.

When he reached the office he found a new man at the desk.

"I have been robbed," he said.

"Robbed!" cried the clerk. "By whom?"

"A man who occupied the same room that I did," replied the boy.

He told what he knew, to which the clerk listened with interest. But the hotel clerk saw that Ralph was green, so he took no responsibility upon his own shoulders. He said he would notify the police, but it was likely nothing would be heard of Jackson Walters.

The matter was talked over for half an hour, and then Ralph left the place to see if he could trace up the thief. He walked around until noon, without any success.

"This is the worst yet," he muttered to himself, as he at last came to a halt down near one of the ferries. "Here I am in the city without a cent in my pocket. What in the world shall I do?"

Had Ralph been in New York he would have made an effort to hunt up Horace Kelsey, the gentleman he had assisted while he was acting as bridge tender. The gentleman had told him to call whenever he was in the city, and he had no doubt but what he could raise a loan when he stated how he was situated.

At length he decided to go back to the hotel and see if anything had been heard of Jackson Walters. He went back, only to be disappointed.

But the visit was productive of some good. Hearing that he had a friend in New York, the hotel keeper gave him a quarter of a dollar with which to get over the ferry and pay other expenses while hunting him up.

Ralph was soon back to the river, and in company with a great stream of people, he purchased a ferry ticket and went aboard one of the boats.

The trip on such a craft was a novelty, and he was sorry it did not last longer. Yet when the boat touched on the other side he was one of the first ashore.

Ralph was now in the great city of New York, and the country boy could not help but stare about him at the bustle and apparent confusion on all sides. By a miracle he managed to cross Wall street in safety, and then, learning that Broadway lay several blocks beyond, he followed the crowd in that direction.

"It's a big place, and no mistake," he said to himself. "My gracious, what tall buildings, and how they are crowded together!"

At last Broadway was reached, that greatest of all metropolitan thoroughfares. It was the most wonderful of all sights to Ralph, so many cars, and wagons, and trucks, not to mention people. He stood on the corner so long that at last a policeman came up and told him to move on.

Ralph was sorry he could not remember Horace Kelsey's number. The insurance agent's card was at home, and the boy had not troubled himself to commit the address to memory. He knew it was on Broadway, and that was all.

"I suppose I might inquire at some of the insurance offices," he thought, at length. "I'll step into the next one I run across."

It was not long before he came to such a place as he was looking for. He entered and made known his wants to the clerk, who advanced to ascertain his wishes.

"Horace Kelsey?" said the clerk. "Don't know the man."

"He is an insurance agent," went on Ralph.

"Good many insurance agents in New York. You might look in the directory. There is one on that stand over by the window."

"Thank you, I'll try it," replied the boy.

He soon found the list of men in the insurance business. Running down the column of K's, he came across the name Kelsey, Horace, insurance broker, with his office address and also his home address, up-town.

Making a mental note of both, Ralph hurried out. A policeman directed him to the tall office building in which his friend had rooms, and he was soon on his way thither.

Arriving at the building, the boy took his first ride in an elevator. It must be confessed that the lift moved so fast and the sensation was so unusual that it made him somewhat sick. When he got out at the right floor he felt as if he was walking on air for a few seconds.

He found Horace Kelsey's office handsomely fitted up. There were several young gentlemen clerks and two young lady typewriters. Evidently business was in a prosperous condition.

Ralph was disappointed to find that the gentleman himself was not visible.

"I came to see Mr. Kelsey," he said, to the clerk who greeted him.

"Mr. Kelsey is out, sir. What can we do for you?"

"I will wait until Mr. Kelsey comes in, please. My business is with him personally."

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait a long time," smiled the clerk. "Mr. Kelsey is out of the city."

Ralph's heart sank at this announcement. He had felt sure that assistance was close at hand.

"When do you expect him to return?"

"I can hardly say, perhaps to-day, perhaps to-morrow or the day after. It depends on when he finishes up the business on hand."

Ralph heaved a sigh. The clerk saw that he was greatly disappointed.

"Can't you come in to-morrow and see if he has returned?" he asked.

"I guess so," faltered the boy. "But I expected sure to meet him to-day," he went on.

"Very sorry."

"I will come in again before you close, if you don't mind."

"Not at all; come whenever you please. We are open until five o'clock here."

Ralph left his name and then quitted the offices. He did not bother taking the elevator down, but used the winding stairs instead.

He had reached the second floor, and was about to start down for the street when he caught sight of a man standing on the stone steps below. The man was Jackson Walters.

"The rascal!" muttered Ralph, to himself. "How fortunate to catch sight of him!"

He sprang down the steps two at a time. Walters heard him coming, and looked around. But before he could attempt to move away, Ralph had him tightly by the arm.

"So I've caught you, have I?" he said, bluntly. "Why—er—really—you have the advantage of me," stammered Jackson Walters, coldly.

"I guess I have, and it's a good thing, too," returned Ralph.

"I—er—don't know you."

"What!" ejaculated the boy, in amazement.

"I say I don't know you. Isn't that plain enough?"

"Well, I know you plain enough. You are the man who roomed with me last night and robbed me."

"'Pon my word, I never saw you before. This is some extraordinary mistake."

"No mistake about it," returned Ralph, doggedly. He was not to be buncombed by the oily manner of the thief.

"Let go of my arm, boy!"

"I will not. You are the thief, and you must return what you stole from me," said Ralph.

He spoke rather loudly, and a crowd began to collect about the two. In a few seconds a policeman hurried up to ascertain the cause of the trouble.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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