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CHAPTER X.
GERTRUDE LEAVES HER HOME

Left to himself in the alleyway, our hero scarcely knew what to do next.

Under ordinary circumstances he would have notified a policeman of what was going on. But he reflected that Pepper had done him many kindnesses in the past, and that it was barely possible the man was not doing as much of a wrong as he imagined.

"I'll wait a while and see what turns up," he soliloquized, and hid himself in a dark corner, where he could watch not only the library window, but also the side alleyway leading to the street in front of the mansion.

Slowly the minutes wore away until Nelson felt certain that Sam Pepper was going to remain inside all night.

"Perhaps something happened to him," he thought. "Maybe he got a fit, or somebody caught him."

He waited a while longer, then, impelled by curiosity, approached the balcony, climbed up, and tried to look into the window of the library.

As he did this the curtain was suddenly thrust aside, and in the dim light he found himself face to face with Gertrude Horton!

He was so astonished that, for the moment, he did not know what to say or do. Gertrude was equally amazed. She quickly raised the window.

"What brought you here?" she questioned. "Did you make the noise I heard a while ago?"

"No, miss. I—er—I just came," stammered our hero. He knew not what to say.

"But I heard a noise. It was that which brought me downstairs. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see if—if your home was safe."

"To see if it was safe?"

"Yes. I was on the street a while ago and a man sneaked in here. Is he around?"

"I saw nobody. But I heard a noise, as I said before. I guess I had better investigate. Did the man look like a thief?"

"He looked like lots of men," answered Nelson noncommittally.

It must be confessed that our hero's head was in a whirl. What had become of Sam Pepper? Was it possible that he had robbed the mansion and made his escape without discovery? And if he was gone, should he expose the man who, good or bad, had cared for him so many years?

Gertrude was looking around for a match, and now she lit the gas and turned it up full. She had scarcely done so when her eyes rested on a ten-dollar gold piece lying in front of the safe.

"A gold piece!" she cried.

"Here is another, miss," returned Nelson, stepping into the room and picking it up from where it had rolled behind a footstool. "Twenty dollars! Gracious!"

"Gertrude! What is the meaning of this?"

The voice came from the hallway, and looking around the girl and our hero saw Mark Horton standing there, clad in his dressing gown and slippers. His face was filled with anger.

"Oh, uncle!" cried the girl. Just then she could say no more.

"So I have caught you, have I?" went on the retired merchant. He turned to our hero. "Who are you, young man?"

"I? I'm Nelson, sir."

"Nelson? Is that your name?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine company you keep, Gertrude, I must say," sneered Mark Horton. "I would not have believed it, had I not seen it with my own eyes."

"Why, uncle–"

"Don't talk back to me. I know all about your doings. You wish–" The retired merchant broke off short. "What is that in your hand? A gold piece, as I live! And this young man has another! Ha! you have been at my safe!"

Pale with rage, Mark Horton tottered into the room and clutched Gertrude by the arm.

"Oh, Uncle Mark, let me go!" she gasped in horror.

"To think it has come to this!" groaned the invalid. "My own niece turned robber! It is too much! Too much!" And he sank into an armchair, overcome.

"Hold on, sir; you're making a mistake," put in Nelson.

"Silence, you shameful boy! I know her perhaps better than you do, even though you do come to see her on the sly."

"Me? On the sly?" repeated our hero, puzzled.

"You talk in riddles, uncle," put in Gertrude faintly.

"I know what I am saying. I will not argue with you. How much have you taken from the safe?"

"Nothing," said Gertrude.

"I haven't touched your safe," added our hero stoutly.

"I will soon see." Mark Horton glanced at the window, which was still wide open. "Is anybody else outside?"

"I guess not," said Nelson.

Arising with an effort, the retired merchant staggered to the safe and opened it. Then he opened the secret compartment.

"Gone! At least six hundred dollars stolen!" he muttered. He turned upon both of the others. "What have you done with that gold?"

"Uncle, I have not touched it," sobbed Gertrude.

"This is all I have, and I just picked that up," added our hero and flung the piece on the table, beside that which the girl had picked up.

"I will not believe it!" stormed Mark Horton, more in a rage than ever. He turned to Nelson. "You took that money away and then thought to come back for more. Or perhaps you came back to see Gertrude."

"I am no thief!" cried Nelson. "I never stole in my life."

"You are a thief, and this girl is your accomplice. Stop, did you not go past the house this afternoon?"

"I did, but–"

"And you saw Gertrude?"

"I saw this young lady, but–"

"As I suspected. You planned this thing."

"Oh, Uncle Mark! what are you saying?" sobbed Gertrude. Her heart was so full she could scarcely speak. She had always treated her uncle with every consideration, and to have him turn against her in this fashion cut her to the quick.

"Gertrude, my eyes are open at last. From to-night you leave me!"

"What, going to throw her out of this house—out of her home!" ejaculated Nelson. "Sir, I don't know you, but I think you must be off in your mind."

"I am not so crazy as you imagine. I am sick—nay, I have one foot in the grave. But this shameless girl shall no longer hoodwink me. As soon as daylight comes she shall leave this house, and she shall never set foot in it again."

"But, sir–"

"I will waste no further words on you, young man. Out you go, or I will call a policeman at once."

"Oh, uncle, don't do that!" burst out Gertrude. "I will go away, if you insist upon it."

"I do insist upon it. Pack your things at once. If it were not night I would insist upon your leaving now."

Gertrude looked at him, and then drew herself up with an effort.

"I will go now, I will not wait," she said. "But if ever you need me–"

"I'll not send for you," finished Mark Horton quickly. "I never want to see you again." He turned to our hero. "Are you going, or must I call an officer?" he added harshly.

"I will go," said Nelson. He paused as if wishing to say more, then leaped through the window and disappeared into the darkness of the alleyway.

As our hero left the library by the window, Gertrude left by the hall door. Slowly she mounted the steps to her own room. Once inside, she threw herself on the bed in a passionate fit of weeping. But this did not last long. Inside of half an hour she was packing a traveling case with such things as she absolutely needed.

"I will take nothing else," she told herself. "His money bought them and they shall remain here."

At last her preparations were complete, and she stole downstairs with her traveling case in her hand. She looked into the library, to see her uncle sitting in a heap in the armchair.

"Good-by, Uncle Mark," she said sadly.

"Go away!" he returned bitterly. "Go away!"

He would say no more, and she turned, opened the door to the street, and passed outside. He listened as she hurried down the steps and along the silent street. When he could no longer hear her footsteps he sank back again into the armchair.

"Gone!" he muttered. "Gone, and I drove her away! What a miserable man I am! What a miserable man!" And then he threw himself down again. He remained in the armchair for the rest of the night, weaker than ever, and tortured by an anguish he could not put into words.

CHAPTER XI.
AFLOAT IN NEW YORK

Once out on the street again, Nelson did not know which way to turn or what to do. He was bewildered, for the scene between Gertrude and her uncle had been more than half a mystery to him.

"He suspects her of stealing, but I don't," he told himself bluntly. "Such a girl, with such eyes, would never steal. He wouldn't think so if he was in his right mind. I guess his sickness has turned his brain." And in the latter surmise our hero was partly correct.

Slowly he walked to the end of the block, then, struck by a sudden thought, came back. If the young lady did really come out, he meant to see her and have another talk with her.

The newsboy was still some distance from the mansion when, on looking across the way, he saw the door of the house in which Homer Bulson lived open, and a second later beheld Sam Pepper come out.

"Gracious—Sam!" he cried to himself, and lost no time in hiding behind a convenient stoop. Soon Pepper passed by, and our hero saw him continue on his way along Fifth Avenue until Fifty-ninth Street was reached.

"He's going home," thought Nelson. "I ought to get down there before him. What will he say if he finds me missing?"

He was now more perplexed than ever. What had Sam Pepper been doing in the house in which Homer Bulson lived? Had the man robbed that place, and had he himself made a mistake in regard to the Horton mansion?

"It's too deep for me," he mused. "I'll never get to the bottom of it. But that young lady—hullo, here she comes, sure enough!"

He stepped behind the stoop again and waited. In a moment Gertrude passed him. Evidently the darkness and the strange silence frightened her. When Nelson came out of his hiding place she started back.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Is it you?"

"Yes, miss. I—I was wondering if you would really leave," he answered.

"There was nothing else for me to do."

"He is your uncle?"

"Yes. He is Mark Horton and I am Gertrude Horton, his dead brother's only child."

"He treated you mighty bad for a brother's child."

"My father was poor and Uncle Mark has taken care of me for years. He wanted me to marry my cousin, Homer Bulson, and it made him angry when I refused."

"Homer Bulson!" cried Nelson. "I don't wonder you didn't want to marry him."

"Do you know my cousin?"

"I've met him. He tried to cheat a friend of mine out of a sale of some books. He acted the sneak."

"It seems my uncle's heart has been set on this marriage," went on Gertrude.

"But that didn't give him the right to call you a thief," put in our hero warmly.

"To be sure it did not. But—but—who are you?"

"I'm Nelson."

"You said that before. What is your real name?"

At this Nelson hung his head.

"I don't know what my real name is, Miss Gertrude. They all call me Nelson the Newsboy. I live with a man named Pepper. He keeps a lunch-room on the East Side, and I sell papers for a living. I don't know where I came from."

"It is too bad. But you are better off than I am—you have a home," she added, her eyes filling again with tears.

"Don't you worry. I'll help you all I can," said Nelson sympathetically. "But about this affair of the safe—I can't make head or tail of that."

"Nor can I, Nelson. I came downstairs, having heard some strange noises. But everything seemed to be all right. Then I looked out of the window and saw you."

"I saw a man go into the alleyway, back of the house," answered our hero lamely. "I'll be real truthful with you and tell you that I know the man, and that he has done lots of good things for me. Well, I thought the man got into that library window, although it was pretty dark and I might have been mistaken."

"The window was locked when I went to open it."

"You are certain of that?"

"I am."

"Then I must have made a mistake." And our hero drew a sigh of relief. Perhaps, after all, Sam Pepper was innocent.

"One thing is sure, some money was gone, and we found those gold pieces on the floor," went on Gertrude. "Who could have opened the safe?"

"Who knew the combination beside your uncle?"

"Myself—he told me last month—when he had his last bad spell."

"Nobody else—that cousin, for instance?"

"I don't believe Mr. Bulson knew it."

"Then that's what made it look black for you. The safe wasn't forced open, that's sure. Somebody opened it who knew the combination."

"The money might have been taken some time ago," said Gertrude. "Anyway, it is gone, and you and I are supposed to be the thieves." She smiled bitterly. "How strange! and we hardly know each other!"

"And I don't see any way of clearing ourselves," said the newsboy, with equal bitterness. "But let that drop. What are you going to do? Going to some friend's house?"

"I have no friends here. You see, we came from Philadelphia, and I am not much acquainted as yet."

"Then you'll go to Philadelphia? If you wish, I'll carry that bag and see you to the train."

"No, I'm not going to Philadelphia. I would rather remain in New York, near my uncle. He may need me some day."

"He's a hard-hearted man!" burst out the newsboy. "I don't see how he could treat you so mean!"

"It is his sickness makes him so, Nelson; he was never so before." Gertrude heaved a long sigh. "I must say I really do not know what to do."

"I know a hotel on Third Avenue, but it's not a very nice place."

"No, I don't wish to go there. If I could think of some friend–"

"Did your uncle send you away without any money?"

"I took only the clothing I needed, nothing more."

"Then I'll give you what I've got," answered Nelson promptly, and drew out what little money he possessed.

"No; I won't rob you, Nelson. But you are very, very kind."

"It aint any robbery," he answered. "Come, you must take it." And he forced it into her hand. "I know an old lady who'll take you in," he continued suddenly. "Her name is Mrs. Kennedy. She's only a fruit and candy woman, but she's got a heart as big as a balloon. She's a nice, neat woman, too."

The matter was talked over for a few minutes, and Gertrude consented to go to the two rooms which Mrs. Kennedy called her home.

These were close to Third Avenue, and late as it was, they boarded a train and rode down. The building was dark, and Nelson had some trouble in rousing the old woman.

"To be sure I'll take the lady in, Nelson," said Mrs. Kennedy, when the situation was partly explained. "Come in, miss, and welcome."

Gertrude was glad enough to enter and drop into a chair, and here our hero left her, and at once hurried down to the lunch-room with all speed.

Not wishing to arouse Sam Pepper if he was asleep, he went around to the rear window, opened that, and crawled through.

To his surprise Pepper was not there.

"I'm lucky, after all," he thought, and undressed with all speed. Hardly had he crawled into bed when Pepper came in. He lit the gas and looked at our hero, but Nelson snored and pretended to be fast asleep. Sam appeared relieved at this, and soon retired. His bag, which he had brought with him, he placed under his bed, in a corner next to the wall.

The newsboy could not sleep, and from the time he lay down until daylight appeared he turned and tossed on his cot, reviewing in a hundred ways all that had occurred. But he could reach no satisfactory conclusion. The one thing, however, which remained fixed in his mind was that Gertrude Horton was now homeless, and he felt that he must, in some measure at least, look out for her.

"I don't suppose I can do much," he thought dismally. "But what I can do I will, that's certain."

Long before Sam Pepper was stirring Nelson was up and dressed. As he was going out Pepper roused up.

"Where are you bound?" he asked.

"Going to sell papers."

"You're starting early to-day."

"I've got to hustle, if I want to make any money." And so speaking, Nelson left the place.

He was soon down at "Newspaper Row," as it is commonly called, that part of Park Row and Nassau Street where are congregated the offices of nearly all of the metropolitan dailies. He had not a cent in his pocket, but this did not bother him. He soon found Paul Randall, who was being shoved right and left in the big crowd of boys who all wanted to get papers at once.

"What papers do you want, Paul?" he asked.

The little newsboy told him, and Nelson said he would get them for him.

"And I'd like to borrow a dollar, Paul," he went on. "I had to give up every cent I had."

"That's too bad, Nelson," replied Paul. "I can't loan you a dollar. All I've got extra is sixty-five cents. You can have that."

"Then I'll make that do," said our hero.

He took all of Paul's money and started into the crowd, to get papers for his friend and himself.

He was struggling to get to the front when, on chancing to look to one side, he caught sight of Billy Darnley, the newsboy bully who had robbed him of the five dollars.

CHAPTER XII.
NELSON RECOVERS SOME MONEY

"Billy Darnley!" gasped our hero, in astonishment.

The bully saw Nelson and instantly ducked his head. He, too, was after newspapers, but now thought it best to quit the scene.

"I didn't t'ink he'd be here so early," he muttered, and pushed to the rear of the crowd. Once in the open, he took to his heels and dashed down Frankfort Street in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge arches.

But Nelson was not to be "lost" so readily, and he was out of the crowd almost as soon as the bully.

"I'm after Billy Darnley!" he shouted to Paul. "Come on!"

There now ensued a race which was highly exciting, even if not of long duration. Darnley was swift of foot, and the fear of what might follow lent speed to his flying feet. But Nelson was also a good runner.

At the corner of Rose Street were a number of heavy trucks. Darnley managed to pass these, but it took time. When our hero came up, the trucks blocked the street completely.

In and out Nelson dodged among the trucks, between the wheels and under the very hoofs of the heavy horses. In a twinkle he was clear of the mass and again making after Darnley, who was now flying toward Vandewater Street.

At this point there is a large archway under the approach to the Brooklyn Bridge, and toward this archway the bully directed his footsteps. But Nelson was now close at hand, and underneath the archway he succeeded in reaching the big newsboy, catching him firmly by the arm.

"Lemme go!" growled Billy Darnley. "Lemme go, Nelse, or I'll hammer yer good."

"Maybe I'll do the hammering," retorted Nelson. "Where's my five dollars?"

"I aint got no money of yours."

"You have, and I want you to hand it over."

"Aint got it, I say. Lemme go!"

Instead of complying our hero grasped the bully by the throat and ran him up against the stonework of the arch.

"I want my money," he said sternly. "If you don't give it to me–"

"Let up—yer—yer chokin' me!" gasped Billy Darnley.

"Will you give me the money?"

"No."

The bully struggled fiercely, and so did Nelson. Down went both on the pavement and rolled over and over. But our hero's blood was up, and he put forth every ounce of strength he possessed. At last he had Darnley flat on his back, and then he sat astride of the bully.

"Now will you give up?" he panted. "Or must I hammer you some more?"

"Oh, Nelson! have you got him?" asked Paul, running up.

"Yes, and he's got to give me my money."

"A fight! a fight!" cried some of the boys who began to collect.

"This aint a fight," said Nelson loudly. "He's a thief, and stole five dollars from me. He's got to give it up."

He caught Darnley by the throat again, and now the bully was only too glad to give in.

"Let—let up!" he gasped. "Let up!"

"Will you give me my money?"

"I've only got two dollars and ten cents."

"Hand it over."

"Let me up first."

"Not much!"

With something like a groan Darnley brought out the money and passed it over.

"Now I'm going to search you," went on Nelson, in as determined a voice as ever.

"No, no!" pleaded Darnley in alarm. He did not like the crowd that was gathering.

"Yes, search him, Nelse," said a boy named Marks.

"That's right, search him," put in another newsboy, named Wilson. "I think he stole something from me last week."

In spite of his protestations Billy Darnley's pockets were turned inside out.

There were brought to light another dollar, which our hero also pocketed, a pearl-handled pocket-knife, a silver badge, and half a dozen other articles.

"My knife!" shouted Nat Marks. "Boys, you all know it."

"So it is, Nat," said Frank Wilson. "And this is my badge—the one I won in the newsboys' competition last month."

The boys took the things, and then gathered around Billy Darnley with clenched fists. Nelson slipped outside of the crowd, and Paul went with him.

In vain Billy Darnley tried to clear himself of the other lads. He struck one boy down, but the others pounced upon him front and rear, and soon had him again on his back. It looked like a football scrimmage, but the ball in this case seemed to be the bully's head. For ten minutes the tussle went on, and when at last the cry of "Cop! cop! run for it!" arose, Darnley found himself with his nose bleeding, two teeth loose, and his left eye all but closed. Moreover, his coat was torn to shreds.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the policeman.

"They all piled on top of me!" whined Darnley, looking the picture of misery.

"He's a thief!" exclaimed one of the other boys, but from a safe distance. "He stole something from three of the boys, he did. He didn't git nuthin' but what was comin' to him, officer."

"That's right; he ought to be locked up," put in another boy, also from a safe distance.

"Begone with you!" said the policeman sternly, and gave Darnley a shove. "If I see any more fighting I'll run you all in," and he walked away, twirling his club as he did so.

"Oh, me eye!" groaned Darnley, and limped away, a sadder if not a wiser youth. It was many a day before he dared to show himself in Newspaper Row again.

"Well, I got back three dollars and ten cents," remarked Nelson, as he and Paul walked up Frankfort Street, "so I won't need your loan. But, just the same, I am much obliged." And he passed over the money.

"I wish you had gotten it all, Nelson," said Paul earnestly. "Oh, but didn't they just pitch into Billy! And it served him right, too."

"Yes, I showed him up in his true colors," returned our hero.

He soon had the papers he and Paul wanted, and then the pair separated, and our hero hurried over to his old stand on Broadway.

His clothing had suffered considerably from the encounter with the bully and, though he brushed himself off as best he could, he felt that he made far from a handsome appearance.

"I must look better than this before I call on Miss Horton," he mused. "If I don't, she'll take me for a regular tramp."

He wondered if there would be anything in the newspapers about the robbery in Fifth Avenue, and snatched a few moments to scan several sheets. But not a word appeared.

"I guess they are too high-toned to let it get into print," he reasoned. "Well, it's a good thing. I guess it would almost kill Miss Gertrude to see it in the papers."

When Nelson got back to the lunch-room he found business was poor, and he expected to see Sam Pepper ill-humored in consequence. On the contrary, however, Pepper was all smiles, and even hummed a tune to himself as he waited on his customers.

"Something has happened to tickle him," thought the boy. "Or else he's got a new plan on hand."

"How is the sick friend—any better?" he asked Pepper.

"Much better, Nelson. And what do you think? He's loaned me money to turn this place into a first-class café. Don't you think that will pay better than a common lunch-room?"

"I don't know. I'd rather be in the lunch business than running a saloon."

"I wouldn't. I want to make money," responded Pepper.

"What are you going to do?"

"Rip out that old show window and put in a new and elegant glass front, and put in a new bar and buffet. It will be as fine as anything around here when it's finished."

"I wish I had a friend to loan me money."

"What would you do with it?"

"I'd buy out a good news stand. There's money in that."

"So there is." Sam Pepper mused for a moment. "Maybe my friend will advance enough for that, too."

"Thank you, but you needn't bother him," said Nelson coldly.

"And why not, if I can get the rocks?"

"I'd rather get the money myself."

"Won't the money be good enough?" demanded Pepper, his face darkening.

"I'd rather know where it came from," returned the boy.

The two were in the kitchen at the time, and Sam Pepper had a frying pan in his hand.

"See here, Nelson, I'll whack you over the head with this, if you talk like that!" exclaimed the man, flying into a rage.

"You won't whack me more than once, Sam Pepper."