Ned hurried down the stairs. He stopped only long enough, when he reached the bottom, to put his shoes on, but did not lace them. He only tucked the ends of the strings into the tops so they would not dangle and trip him if he had to run. Then Ned stepped from the hallway into the dark and deserted street. Once more, though entirely innocent, he had been obliged to flee from officers of the law.

"It's getting to be a habit with me," he said grimly, as he hurried along.

What happened back in the lodging house he did not know and he cared less. That his flight would seem a confession of guilt he was sure; but what did it matter?

It was cold and dark and cheerless in the streets. He was a night wanderer, with no place to go, and, as far as he knew, not a friend in the big city.

"I guess I'll have to walk the streets all night," poor Ned thought. "I haven't much money left." He felt in the pocket of his overcoat, and counted the change. There was less than a dollar.

"Have to take fifteen cent beds after this," he remarked to himself. "As for eating I guess I'll have to cut that out altogether."

He walked through several thoroughfares. Not a soul did he meet save once as he pa.s.sed a policeman the officer stared at him suspiciously.

But Ned still had his good clothes with him, and his overcoat though crumpled from being used as a bed-spread, made him look decent enough to pa.s.s muster in the neighborhood where he was.

"I think I'll find another lodging house and get a bed," he said to himself. "I must get a little rest if I am to look for work to-morrow."

He had no difficulty in finding a place, for there were many such nearby. He got a fifteen cent bed, in a room where scores of other men and youths were sleeping. His entrance excited no comment, and, in fact, few were awake to notice his arrival.

Ned was so tired he fell asleep with most of his clothes on. He had little fear of being robbed for he had little left to take. He got a frugal breakfast the next morning and started out to search for work.

But New York seemed to be overflowing with men and boys on the same errand. Every place where Ned applied, either from seeing a sign "Boy Wanted," or by getting the address from a newspaper he bought, had been taken or else he would not fill the bill. All day long he tramped, spending a few cents for some buns and coffee at a lunch stand. At night, tired and discouraged, he went back to the lodging house where he had last stayed, and again got a fifteen cent bed.

"To-morrow's Thursday," thought Ned, as he crawled under his overcoat, which he once more used as a blanket. "I wonder if the boys arrived to-day? What could they have thought when they saw the house closed?

Oh, I wish I could find them. If this keeps on I'll have to p.a.w.n my overcoat for something to eat, and it looks as if it would snow to-morrow. What a pickle I'm in!"

Then, in spite of his troubles he fell asleep, for he was very tired.

CHAPTER XXII

OUT IN THE STORM

The telegram from Ned's father, which the three chums received that Wednesday evening, telling them their friend was not at his home in Darewell, was a great shock to them.

"Why," remarked Bart, as he picked up the message he had dropped, "it hardly seems possible. I wonder where in the world he can be. He starts for home but he never arrives."

"Are we sure he started for home?" asked Frank.

"Why of course," Fenn answered. "Didn't the telegram from Mrs. Kenfield say so?"

"She would hardly know," Frank went on. "Ned's train for Darewell wouldn't leave until four o'clock. The timetable shows that. According to what the woman who lives next door to Mrs. Kenfield told us, Ned's aunt started away before noon. Her train must have left about that time, so Ned couldn't have gotten away from New York, if he left at all, until after his aunt had started for Chicago. Consequently though she may have seen him leave the depot where she was, with the intention of going back to Darewell, that's no proof that he really went back home."

"That's so," admitted Bart, struck with the force of Frank's reasoning.

"But where then can he be?"

"That's what we've got to find out," said Fenn.

"How are we going to do it?" Bart inquired.

"I think Ned's right here in New York," Frank went on. "Now look at it.

His aunt goes away unexpectedly and closes the house up. It would seem natural for Ned to go back home, but we find out he has not. He doesn't know any one else in this part of the country, or he would have told us.

Consequently he has not gone to any other city. Therefore he must be in New York."

"But why would he stay here?" insisted Bart.

"Probably for the same reason we're going to, in order to see the sights."

"Then why didn't he send some word home to let his father know?" Bart asked. "Mr. Wilding wouldn't be starting for New York if he knew Ned was safe here. Ned hasn't communicated with his father, that's sure."

"I forgot about that," Frank admitted. "That makes it look different."

"Maybe something has happened to him," suggested Fenn.

"Don't look for trouble, Stumpy," remarked Bart. "It's bad enough as it is."

"However I still think Ned is in New York," Frank went on. "He may be sick or he may have been hurt, which would prevent him communicating with us, or with his father. But that he's in this city I'm sure. Now the thing for us to do is to find him."

"But how?" asked Fenn.

"There are dozens of ways. We must communicate with the police and ask their help."

"Ned wouldn't like that," interposed Bart. "He's not a criminal."

"Of course not," Frank answered. "But the police have to help find lots of persons who are not criminals. If Ned's in trouble we want to know it as soon as possible so we can help him."

"Then the sooner we start the better," suggested Bart. "Where ought we to begin?"

"Let's ask the agent here at the station where Ned's train came in,"

Frank said. "Perhaps he may have noticed him."

"Not likely," replied Bart. "Too many pa.s.sengers coming and going."

They made some inquiries, but, as Bart had said, there were too many arrivals and departures for the agent to have taken particular note of a boy among a thousand others.

"That settles one end of it," remarked Fenn, as they were about to leave the depot. "Let's arrange to stop at some hotel. We're going to be here several days, very likely."

"So we are," Frank replied. "Hold on! Wait a minute! I've just thought of something."

"What?" asked Bart.

"The baggage room. We can find out if there are any trunks from Darewell, besides our own, that have not been called for. Besides I know Ned's when I see it."

They hurried to the baggage agent and told him what they wanted. He soon ascertained from his records that four trunks had come in from Darewell in the last few days. Three were those of the three chums, which had arrived that noon.

"I've got one other," the agent said. "It came in Monday, and there are storage charges on it now."