"Oh, you dear, good boy!" she exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears as she caught him in her arms. "I knew you would always be good to me."

"You've been a mother to us, aunt, and I'll never go back on my mother!"

Adah came home from the store tired and hungry. At supper her aunt told her of Fred's adventure and good fortune. She sprang up and danced around the room in her joy and then kissed him a half dozen times.

It did seem like an enormous sum to her a girl of but fourteen summers.

"What are you going to do with it, Fred?" she finally asked.

"Give it to aunt and to use for you and herself."

They all had pleasant dreams that night. Fred dreamed of the big fortune made in Wall Street; and Adah dreamed that she was no longer a cash girl in a big store, but wore fine dresses and rode in a carriage. The next morning, however, Fred ate early and hurried off downtown to sell papers, and Adah was at the store at her usual hour. Fred delivered to all his Wall Street patrons and then sold on the street to pa.s.sersby all the morning. He was all around the Stock Exchange, for there he found the most customers. Inside the Stock Exchange he heard the brokers yelling like so many lunatics. That was so often the case, however, that he gave it little thought. But soon he saw Bob Newcombe, Manson's messenger, come out in a great hurry and dart off down the street.

"Guess Manson is busy inside," he said to himself as he kept his eyes open for customers.

In a few moments Bob came running back. He ran up against Fred.

"Just go up in the gallery and see how B. & H. is climbing up, Fred," he said to him.

"How much has it gone up, Bob?" Fred asked him.

"Five points, and that means $100 for us," Bob replied.

"Whew!" and Fred whistled.

Bob dashed into the Exchange by way of the side entrance on New street and disappeared from view.

"Guess I'll go up in the gallery and look on a while," Fred said to himself. "Here, Mugsey, you can have my papers," and he turned over about one dozen papers to an ugly little newsboy whom the others called Mugsey.

The little fellow was astonished.

"Do yer give 'em ter me, Fred?" he asked before taking them.

"Yes. I'm done for the day."

Fred found quite a crowd of people up in the gallery, and among them a party of ladies from out of town. They were sightseeing. But there was nothing new to him up there. He wanted to see Broker Manson and watch the rise of B. & H. stock. It took him some time to find Manson in the moving ma.s.s of yelling brokers on the floor below. But he finally found him, and for half an hour never took his eyes off of him. He heard him offering fifty-three and finally fifty-four for B. & H. It has thus gone up seven points since the day before.

"Bob was right," he said. "He knew what he was about. B. & H. is climbing right up to the top. Hanged if I don't put in another hundred!"

and he ran down and out into the street like a young lunatic. In five minutes he had put up another hundred dollars with Broker Tabor for Halsey & Company to buy more B. & H. stock on margin. The stock was bought immediately at 54 1/2-eighteen shares.

That done, Fred returned to the Exchange and watched proceedings from the gallery. He kept his eyes on Broker Manson. The big broker was buying the stock at a tremendous rate, all that was offered him. People were coming and going all the time. Fred finally turned to look at a young girl whose voice sounded like music in his ears. She was close by his side. She was accompanied by an elderly couple, evidently her parents. He thought her very beautiful and that she had the most musical voice he had ever heard.

She changed positions several times as though looking for somebody on the floor below. He noticed a tall, well-dressed man keeping close behind her, peering over her shoulder at the crowd below. Something in his movements caused Fred to look at him the second time, and to his amazement he saw him pick the pockets of both the ladies. The thief then started to leave, but Fred grabbed his coat-tail, saying:

"Here, I saw that little game. It won't go. Ladies, this man has got your pocketbooks."

Quick as a flash the thief grabbed him and lifted him above his head.

Fred saw he was going to be hurled headlong among the brokers below, and to save himself seized his a.s.sailant's coat collar. The two ladies screamed, and the next moment Fred and the pickpocket fell over the gallery and went down in a heap on the yelling brokers below.

CHAPTER IV.--Fred's First Entrance to the Exchange and Its Results.

The screams of the ladies caused every broker to look up from the floor of the Stock Exchange. Like a flash they saw a man and boy come tumbling down upon them from the gallery. There was a party of four brokers grouped together immediately under them, and, as a matter of gravitation, they landed on top of them--on their heads and shoulders.

Hats were crushed and a confused ma.s.s of humanity scrambled about on the floor. The yelling ceased when the shrill screams from the gallery were heard, and brokers ran forward to help those who had fallen. The pickpocket struck out desperately, trying to shake off Fred. In doing so he hit Broker Bryant in the face. Bryant was a hard hitter himself, and instantly returned the blow--a half dozen or more.

"Blast you, take that!" he hissed, and he gave him lightning-like blows till he sank down on the floor unconscious.

"Won't somebody hold him?" Fred cried out. "He's a pickpocket!"

"Who is he?" somebody asked Bryant.

"I don't know and don't care," was the blunt reply. "He hit me in the face after tumbling down on my head."

By this time the policeman on duty at the Stock Exchange pushed his way through the crowd of brokers and called out:

"What is it? What's the trouble here?" and he looked at the pickpocket, who was slowly pulling himself together.

"This man is a pickpocket," said Fred. "He took those ladies' purses up there, and when I caught him at it he tried to throw me over the gallery. He did throw me, but I brought him down with me."

"Good--good!" cried a broker. "Three cheers for the kid!"

The brokers cheered and then laughed.

"I am no pickpocket," exclaimed the thief, as soon as he saw the officer had him. "The boy lies. I merely---"

"Officer, search him!" cried the elder of the two ladies up in the gallery. "He has my purse and that of my daughter."

"Yes, search him! Search him!" called out a dozen at once.

Brokers held him and the officer searched him. He found the two purses or pocketbooks in his pockets.

"That one is mine!" cried the elderly woman.

"What does it contain, madam?" the officer asked.

"Money and two diamond rings. You can open it and see for yourself."

It was opened and her claim verified.

"Madam, you will have to appear against this man," said the officer, looking up at the elderly lady, and he led the prisoner out of the Stock Exchange and into one of the many offices of the building.

The lady, accompanied by her husband and daughter, appeared in the room and claimed her property. The young girl, who seemed to be about sixteen years old, turned to Fred and said:

"We are indebted to you for recovering our purses. I hope you were not hurt by the fall?"

"Only a little bit," he replied.

"I'm so sorry!"