Two weeks pa.s.sed and Randy felt quite at home on board of the steamboat. He had learned his duties fully and was giving satisfaction to Captain Hadley and Pat Malloy.

His only enemy seemed to be Polk the purser, who was as disagreeable as possible. Our hero did his best to steer clear of the fellow, and in a measure succeeded.

One evening, while the boat was tied up at the dock in New York Randy chanced to look ash.o.r.e when he saw Rose Clare motioning to him. He at once joined the girl.

"I came down to tell you that Bill Hosker was around yesterday," said the girl to our hero.

"Is he around now?" questioned Randy, quickly.

"No, he went away yesterday evening. He was only around about two hours."

"I wish I had seen him."

"I thought you'd like to know about it. I came down last night, but a man here told me you were at Albany."

"Yes, we come to New York every other night, not counting Sundays."

"I think Bill Hosker will come again soon. I suppose he thinks you have given up trying to find him."

"Well, I haven't given it up, Rose. How are things going with yourself and your mother?"

"Not very good."

"Can't she get much sewing to do?"

"She and I made only five dollars and a quarter last week."

"And what rent do you pay?"

"Six dollars a month for just the one room."

"That is certainly hard. I wish I could help you, but I can't--at least, not now."

"We wouldn't want help, if only we could get more sewing."

"I'll ask Captain Hadley about it. He has a wife and a family of girls."

Randy was as good as his word. He met the captain the next day, when the officer appeared to have little to do.

"Captain, may I speak to you a moment?" he asked, respectfully, and at the same time tipping his cap.

"What is it, Randy?"

"I know a poor lady in New York who does sewing for a living. She is anxious to get more work and I am anxious to help her, if I possibly can. Do you know of anybody who would like some sewing done--your wife or anybody else?"

"Hm! I don't know," answered the steamboat captain. "I'll remember what you say and see. Is that all?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where does the poor woman live?"

"Not far from our landing place in New York." He gave the street and number. "It isn't a nice neighborhood, but it is the best the woman can afford," he added.

"Yes, I know many folks in New York who live in bad neighborhoods simply because they cannot afford something better. I will speak to my wife about this."

The captain did as he had promised. Mrs. Hadley was going to New York the next day and said she would call upon Mrs. Clare. The family lived in Albany, so that the captain was home every other night.

Mrs. Hadley was as good as her word. She was a Christian woman, a worker in the church, and she became at once interested in Mrs. Clare and her daughter Rose.

"This is no place for Rose," said she. "This foul air is bad for her."

"I know it--but I do not see how I can turn myself," said Mrs. Clare, with a sigh. Poverty had completely broken her spirit.

The captain's wife looked over some of the sewing that Mrs. Clare had done and soon learned that the woman was a clever seamstress. Then she made an offer.

"If you wish, you can come to my home with me," she said. "You can sew for me, and Rose can go to school and also help around the house. I will give you five dollars a week and your board."

"I will accept gladly!" cried the poor woman, and burst into tears of grat.i.tude.

It was arranged that Mrs. Clare should leave New York on the following Sat.u.r.day. She was to sell off the most of her things--alas! there were not many articles to dispose of! and the others were to be transferred to Albany on the boat.

"My cousin, Mr. Polk, will be surprised to learn of this move," said Mrs. Clare to the captain's wife.

"What, is he your cousin?" queried Mrs. Hadley.

"Yes, by marriage," and then Mrs. Clare told her tale of suffering, to which the captain's wife gave a willing ear.

"I must speak of this to my husband," said Mrs. Hadley. "I do not think he likes Mr. Polk very much."

On Sat.u.r.day Randy was moving some baggage from one side of the lower deck to the other when Peter Polk came along. As luck would have it, some trunks were in the way, so that the purser could not pa.s.s.

"Look here, you blockhead, why don't you keep this gangway clear?" he roared to Randy.

"I am trying to clear it now," answered our hero, as calmly as he could.

"It ought to be kept clear always. Who ordered this stuff here, anyway?"

"Mr. Malloy."

"He had no business to do it."

"Why didn't I, I'd like to be after knowin'?" came in a voice from behind the purser, and the head deckhand appeared on the scene.

"Oh, so you're here, are you?" sneered Peter Polk.

"I am that, Mr. Polk. I ordered thim trunks there. Have ye anything against it?" demanded Malloy, boldly. "If ye have, report to the captain."