He hurried after the urchin, making as little noise as possible. But unfortunately his foot at that moment struck against an empty case, and made known his presence.

Instantly the street boy realized the situation, and diving behind a pile of barrels, remained perfectly quiet.

Richard's blood was now up, and he did not intend to be outwitted. He hurried to the spot, in his eagerness nearly stumbling over the boy.

But the latter was alert. Visions of the Tombs probably floated through his mind; and tripping Richard over he sprang away.

Richard was on his feet in a second, but it was too late. In that second, the street Arab had sprung to the top of a pile of cases that stood directly under an opening in the floor above.

The next instant he had disappeared through the hole, and was gone.

But in mounting the stack of cases he had dislodged several and these now tumbled down, making a lively racket. The noise was followed by several exclamations, and the sound of hasty feet upon a stairway.

"Hey, you, vat you do here?" cried a voice; and Richard felt his arm grasped by a tall and savage looking German workman.

CHAPTER XIII.

RICHARD CALLS ON MR. JOYCE.

As the hand of the German workman grasped Richard's arm the boy realized that he was in an awkward fix. Appearances were all against him, and as the man glared at him Richard knew not what to say.

"Come now, vat vas you doing here, hey?" demanded the German.

"I--I was after a boy who stole something from me," stammered Richard.

"After a poy?"

"Yes. He ran down here, and I came after him."

"Ton't believe it. Vere ist der poy now?"

"He jumped up there and got through that hole," replied Richard, pointing to the place.

The German uttered an exclamation.

"Dat's nonsense!"

"It's true. He stole two dollars and some letters, and I chased him in here."

The man eyed Richard suspiciously.

"Maype dot vas only a make-believe sthory; I don't know," he declared.

"Come, ve go upstairs und see."

But, as Richard surmised, the boy had, by some means, already made his escape. But the marks of his muddy feet, as he had crawled from the hatchway, were still to be seen, and these Richard pointed out.

"Vell, if your sthory is straight dat lafer ain't here now; so you go about your beesness." And with a wave of his arm the stalwart workman motioned for Richard to clear out.

The boy was not loth to leave the place. Nothing was to be gained by remaining, and the German's company was certainly not desirable.

"I suppose I might as well give up the search now," said Richard to himself when outside. "That fellow will know enough to keep out of my sight for a while; and, besides, it must be time to go to Mr. Joyce's.

Gracious, how starved that chap did look! If he wants that money to get something to eat with I'm sure he's welcome to it, only I want the letters."

Richard brushed off his clothes as best he could and started off. By the use of the guide-book he had no difficulty in finding the Swamp, as the leather district in New York is called.

Presently he came to a big warehouse, with an office at one side, over which hung the sign:

TIMOTHY JOYCE, Successor to JOYCE BROTHERS.

LEATHER AND HIDES.

Established 1837.

"It's certainly an old firm," thought Richard, as he read the words.

"I guess Mr. Joyce is a pretty substantial business man."

The boy found the leather merchant at his desk, deep in his letters.

"Ah! on hand I see," said Mr. Joyce. "I'm not quite ready yet; will be in a quarter of an hour."

"I won't mind waiting," returned Richard.

"Suppose you take a look around the place? I guess you've never seen anything like this before."

"No, sir: and I'll look around gladly."

Richard stepped from the office to the lower floor of the warehouse.

The quant.i.ty of leather and hides on all sides filled him with wonder.

The place was several stories high, and was filled to overflowing with material soon to be worked up into shoes, pocketbooks, belting, gloves, baseball covers, and a thousand other articles for which this staple material of trade is needed. Several heavy trucks were loading and unloading at the doors, and the boy heard the workmen speak of a consignment to Buffalo, and another to Boston, and of a shipload that had just arrived from South America.

"It's a big business and no mistake," was Richard's conclusion. "I guess a person would have to be here half a lifetime to learn all the ins and outs of it."

When Richard returned to the office he found that Mr. Joyce had just cleared his desk, and was leaning back in his chair.

The leather merchant motioned him to a seat.

"Well, what do you think of it?" he asked abruptly.

"You seem to be doing a big business," returned Richard. "I think you must have enough leather to supply all New York."

"So I have--for a short time. But only a small part stays in the city.

It comes and goes all the while. Have you found a place yet?"

"No, sir; I haven't had a chance yet." And Richard related the particulars of his recent misfortune.

"Humph! Well, after all, experience _is_ the only school we all learn in. I don't doubt but what you've seen the last of both money and letters. Keep your eyes open in the future."