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The Young Outlaw; or, Adrift in the Streets, a novel by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 10. Sam's Adventures At The Depot |
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_ CHAPTER X. SAM'S ADVENTURES AT THE DEPOT It was six miles to the station at Wendell, where Sam proposed to take the cars for New York. He had to travel on an empty stomach, and naturally got ravenously hungry before he reached his destination. About half a mile this side of the depot he passed a grocery-store, and it occurred to him that he might get something to eat there. Entering he saw a young man in his shirt-sleeves engaged in sweeping. "Have you got anything good to eat?" asked Sam. "This aint a hotel," said the young man, taking Sam for a penniless adventurer. "I knew that before," said Sam, "but haven't you got some crackers or something, to stay a feller's stomach?" "Haven't you had any breakfast?" asked the clerk, curiously. "No." "Don't they give you breakfast where you live?" "Not so early in the morning. You see I had to take an early start, 'cause I'm goin' to attend my grandmother's funeral." This of course was a story trumped up for the occasion. "We've got some raw potatoes," said the clerk, grinning. "I've had enough to do with potatoes," said Sam. "Haven't you got some crackers?" "Come to think of it, we have. How many will you have?" "About a dozen." While they were being put up in a paper bag, the clerk inquired, "How far off does your grandmother live?" "About twenty miles from here, on the railroad," answered Sam, who didn't care to mention that he was bound for New York. "Warwick, I suppose." "Yes," said Sam, at a venture. "How soon does the train start?" "In about half an hour. Hold on, though; that's the New York train, and don't stop at Warwick." "I guess I'll be goin," said Sam, hurriedly. "Where's the depot?" "Half a mile straight ahead, but you needn't hurry. The train for Warwick don't go till ten." "Never mind. I want to see the New York train start;" and Sam hurried off eating crackers as he walked. "I'm glad the train starts so quick," thought Sam. "I don't want to wait round here long. I might meet somebody that knows me." He had no difficulty in finding the depot. It was a plain building, about twenty by thirty feet, with a piazza on the side towards the track. He entered, and going up to the ticket-office asked for a ticket to New York. "For yourself?" asked the station-master. "Yes," said Sam. "How old are you?" "Twelve." "Then you'll have to pay for a whole ticket. Three dollars." "All right," said Sam, promptly, and he drew out a five-dollar bill, receiving in return two dollars and a ticket. "Do you live in New York, sonny?" asked the station-master. "No, I'm only goin to see my aunt," answered Sam, with another impromptu falsehood. "I know something about New York. In what street does your aunt live?" Sam was posed, for he did not know the name of even one street in the city he was going to. "I don't exactly remember," he was forced to admit. "Then how do you expect to find her if you don't know where she lives?" "Oh, she'll meet me at the depot," said Sam, readily. "Suppose she don't?" "I'll find her somehow. But she's sure to meet me." "Going to stay long in the city?" "I hope so. Perhaps my aunt'll adopt me. How soon will the train be along?" "In about fifteen minutes." Here an old lady came up, and asked for a ticket to New York. "Three dollars, ma'am." "Three dollars! Can't you take less?" asked the old lady, fumbling in her pocket for her purse. "No ma'am, the price is fixed." "It's a sight of money. Seems throwed away, too, jest for travellin'. You haint got anything to show for it. I never was to York in my life." "Please hurry, ma'am, there are others waiting." "Massy sakes, don't be so hasty! There's the money." "And there's your ticket." "I wish I know'd somebody goin to New York. I'm afeared to travel alone." "There's a boy going," said the station-master, pointing to Sam. "Are you goin to York?" asked the old lady, peering over her spectacles at Sam. "Yes, ma'am." "Was you ever there afore?" "No, ma'am." "Aint your folks afeared to have you go alone?" "Oh, no, they don't mind." "I wish you was older, so's you could look after me." Sam was rather flattered by the idea of having a lady under his charge, and said, "I'll take care of you, if you want me to." "Will you? That's a good boy. What's your name?" "Sam Barker," answered our hero, with some hesitation, not feeling sure whether it was politic to mention his real name. "Do you live in New York?" "No, ma'am; but I'm goin to." "When will the cars git along?" "In about ten minutes." "You'll help me get in, won't you? I've got two bandboxes, and I don't know how to manage." "Yes, ma'am, I'll help you. I'm goin out on the platform, but I'll come in when the cars come along." Sam went out on the platform, and watched eagerly for the approach of the cars. Up they came, thundering along the track, and Sam rushed into the depot in excitement. "Come along, ma'am," he said. "The cars are here." The old lady was in a flutter of excitement also. She seized one bandbox, and Sam the other, and they hurried out on the platform. They were just climbing up the steps, when the conductor asked, "Where are you going?" "To York, of course." "Then this isn't the train. It is going in the opposite direction." "Lawful suz!" ejaculated the old lady in dismay. "What made you tell me wrong, you bad boy?" and she glared at him reproachfully over her glasses. "How should I know?" said Sam, rather abashed. "I didn't know about no other train." "You come near makin' me go wrong." "I can't help it. It would be just as bad for me." "When does the train go to York, somebody?" asked the old lady, looking about her in a general way. "Next train; comes round in about five minutes." Sam helped the old lady back into the depot, rather ashamed of the mistake he had made. He saw that she had lost some of her confidence in him, and it mortified him somewhat. It was nearly ten minutes afterwards,--for the train was late, before the right cars came up. Sam dashed into the depot again, and seized a bandbox. "Here's the cars. Come along," he said. "I won't stir a step till I know if it's the right cars," said the old lady firmly. "Then you may stay here," said Sam. "I'm goin'." "Don't leave your grandmother," said a gentleman, standing by. "She isn't my grandmother. Isn't this the train to New York?" "Yes." Sam seized the bandbox once more, and this time the old lady followed him. They got into the cars without difficulty, and the old lady breathed a sigh of relief. Sam took a seat at the window just behind her, and his heart bounded with exultation as he reflected that in a few hours he would be in the great city, of which he had such vague and wonderful ideas. The only drawback to his enjoyment was the loss of his usual morning meal. The crackers helped to fill him up, but they were a poor substitute for the warm breakfast to which he had been accustomed at the deacon's. Still Sam did not wish himself back. Indeed, as he thought of the deacon's bewilderment on discovering his disappearance, he broke into an involuntary laugh. "What are you laffin' at?" asked the old lady, suspiciously. Sam answered, "I was thinkin' how near we came to bein' carried off to the wrong place." "That aint anything to laff at," said the old lady, grimly. _ |
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