A District Messenger Boy, and A Necktie Party - Part 3
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Part 3

" New York!" exclaimed the boy, and he uttered a prolonged whistle.

"You don't mean to say that you was sent way down here with a message, do you?"

"See here," Joe made up his mind in an instant, "I'm in an awful bad sc.r.a.pe, an' so is this little feller; sit down here an' I'll tell you all about it."

"All right; but I guess we'd better get behind those barrels, 'cause if anybody should see me they'd think I ought to go back to the. office, even if I have got half an hour off."

A convenient place for conversation was found behind some barrels, where the two were almost completely screened from view, and then Joe told the story; but not without many interruptions in the way of exclamations of surprise, almost incredulity, from his brother messenger. He concluded by telling the story of their meeting with Master West, and his offer to take them to New York in his yacht.

"Was it Bart West that you met?" asked the boy.

"His name was Bartholomew."

" An' where is the boat? "

Joe explained, as well as he was able, the locality in which they had seen the yacht, and the messenger said, quickly:

"Well, you don't want to have anything to do with that feller, 'cause he's a reg'lar duffer. He's too lazy to work, an' he hangs 'round the city like a loafer. That boat hain't his at all. I know who owns her.

Bart West hain't got money enough to buy one end of a punt. He was goin'. to steal the yacht, that's what he was goin' to do, if he was goin' to do anything, an' if you had gone off with him, you'd got into a pile of trouble."

Quite naturally, both Joe and Ned were alarmed at the narrow escape they had had, for they would have gone with Bart West without a question.

"Well, how are you goin' to get home?" asked the Providence boy.

"That's just what we don't know. We don't dare to go to the steamer, 'cause that man might catch Ned again. I'm afraid we'll have to walk, if that West boy don"t own the boat."

"Walk !" echoed the messenger, "why, it would take you a year to do it, an' then I hain't sure that you could get there."

"Well, what can we do? Can't you help us somehow, if you know all the folks here?" .

" I s'pose I could," said the new acquaintance, as he rubbed his chin, reflectively. If I should tell our manager about it, I guess he could telegraph to New York to find out if it was all right; an' then he could fix it so's you could go back on the boat; but he couldn't send the other feller, 'cause, you see, he hain't one of the crowd."

"Oh, don't go away an' leave me here, will you, Joe?" asked Ned, imploringly, a sense of utter loneliness coming over him as he thought of what might happen to him if he were left alone.

" Indeed, I won't, Ned. If we can't get home together, I'll stay and go with you, if we have to walk every step of the way."

Ned stole his hand shyly into Joe's, to thank him for the promise, and the messenger said, in a tone of superior wisdom:

" You see, if he was a messenger, like we are, it would be all right; but I'm most sure our manager wouldn't have anything to do with him.

But you stay here, an' I'll tell him what you've said, an' .then I'll come back to let you know . what he's going to do about it."

The boy leaped out of the hiding-place, running swiftly towards the office, as if he would scorn to walk while he had his uniform on, and Ned and Joe were left alone, two very forsaken-feeling little' fellows, even though there was a faint prospect. that they might escape from their present difficulty.

Joe was obliged to repeat, again and again, to his weary little charge, that he would remain with him, and they were talking of what they would do in case they were obliged to walk home, when suddenly they heard Master West calling to them.

"Well, what is it?" asked Joe, coolly, feeling that he had good cause for complaint against this boy, who would have allowed them to get into trouble by going away in a stolen boat.

"Come up-town, an' let's get some more things, for we hain't got half enough to last us to New York."

"I guess not," said Joe. "I hain't goin' to spend any more money for such things, and, too, we won't go with you in the boat if we never get home."

"Why not?" and Bartholomew stood before them, a perfect picture of painful surprise.

"Well, you see we hain't sure that you own the boat, an' we concluded not to run any risks."

"S'posen I don't own the boat, so long as I can get her. I'll fix all that, an' you've only got to come along."

" I guess we can walk, thank'ee. We'd rather do that than steal a boat."

"Oh, you're too much of a girl to suit me, if you don't dare to do a little thing like that,"

said Master West, loftily, and then he walked slowly away, much as if he expected the' boys would call him back, when they found that he was really intending to leave them to their fate.

" We want to get home pretty bad," said Joe; "but not so much that we're willing to steal a boat to go in."

"All right, you can stay here, an' starve to death, for all I care.

You'll be sorry, though."

"You'll be sorry, Bart West," cried a voice from up the street; "but you can't get any messenger boy to go in with you when you're goin' to steal Mr. Longley's yacht."

"Then it was you, George Browning, who told these fellers that the boat wasn't mine?" said Bart, angrily.

" Yes, it was," replied the messenger, who appeared excited, "an' these fellers can get home without you, for our manager says he'll pay their fare. He. telegraphed to New York, an' if the little feller's name is Edward Hawley, he's goin' to give 'em all they want to eat, an' buy a stateroom, an' they are to go like reg'lar swells."

"'Tis Edward Hawley," piped Ned, jumping up on his tired little feet.

It was not many seconds before Joe and Ned were out from behind the barrels, questioning George, in breathless excitement.

"The manager of your office had telegraphed down here,to know if you come on the boat," said George, as soon as the boys gave him an opportunity to speak, " an' to pay your fare back if you was here. So when I told our manager, he knew all about it. Then when I told him about the other feller, he said folks in New York had been telegraphing all around the country for a boy by the name of Edward Hawley. Now you'd better come up to the office, an' everything'll be all right."

As may be imagined, it was not many moments before Joe and Ned were telling their stories to the manager of the office in which George was employed, and then their troubles were over. The fact that they were in Providence, and safe, was telegraphed to New York at once, and George was. detailed to show the boys around the city until time for the boat to leave, for Mr. Hawley had sent word that Ned should be supplied with what he needed to make him comfortable and happy.

Nothing more was seen of Master West, and the two boys returned to New York on the same steamer on which they had been involuntary pa.s.sengers the night previous.

" h.e.l.lo, there's the man come to look for his valises," said Joe, next morning, as he and Ned stood by the rail while the steamer was being warped into the dock. "I s'pose he'll be mad, now, 'cause I sent them on by express."

"' Why, that's my father!" exclaimed Ned, when Joe had pointed his employer out from among the crowd on the pier.

It was indeed the case; and the .reason why Mr. Hawley had not come to relieve Joe, was that word of Ned's non-appearance at home had been sent to him nearly an hour before the steamer sailed.

Joe went back, to the office, after he had been home to see his mother, but he did not remain there very long, for Mr. Hawley gave him a position in his store, in return for his kindness to Ned, and to-day the district messenger boy is in a fair way to become a successful merchant.

DAN HARDY'S CRIPPY.

Among the flock of geese that toddled in and out of Farmer Hardy's barn-yard last winter, hissing in protest at the ice which covered the pond so that there was no chance of a swimming match, was one remarkable neither for its beauty, nor its grace. This particular goose was gray, and was looked upon with no special favor by Mrs. Hardy, who had great pride in all the flock but the gray one.

When .it was a little fluffy, drab-colored gosling, one of the sheep had stepped on it, crushing out its life so nearly that Mrs. Hardy had no idea it would ever recover, but Dan begged for its life. He felt sure he could set the broken leg, and he pleaded so hard that his mother finally allowed him to make the attempt.