Slow and Sure: The Story of Paul Hoffman the Young Street-Merchant

  CHAPTER XI.

  FREE LUNCH.

  About seven o'clock the next morning Julius awoke. Jack Morgan wasstill asleep and breathing heavily. His coarse features looked evenmore brutal in his state of unconsciousness. The boy raised himself onhis elbow and looked thoughtfully at him as he slept.

  "How did I come to be with him?" This was the question which passedthrough the boy's mind. "He ain't my father, for he's told me so. Ishe my uncle, I wonder?"

  Sometimes, but not often, this question had suggested itself toJulius; but in general he had not troubled himself much aboutancestry. A good dinner was of far more importance to him than to knowwho his father or grandfather had been. He did not pretend to have awarm affection for the man between whom and himself existed the onlytie that bound him to any fellow-creature. They had got used to eachother, as Jack expressed it, and that served to keep them togetherwhen the law did not interfere to keep them apart. In general Juliushad obeyed such orders as Jack gave him, but now, for the first time,a question of doubt arose in his mind. He was called upon to dosomething which would injure Paul, whose kindness had produced astrong impression upon him. Should he do it? This led him to considerhow far he was bound to obey Jack Morgan. He could not see that he hadanything to be grateful for. If Jack was flush he received some slightadvantage. On the other hand, he was expected to give most of hisearnings to his guardian when they were living together. While he wasthinking the man opened his eyes.

  "Awake, eh?" he asked.

  "Yes," said Julius.

  "What time is it?"

  "The clock has gone seven."

  "I can tell that by my stomach. I've got a healthy appetite thismorning. Have you got any money?"

  "Not a penny, Jack."

  "That's bad. Just feel in the pocket of my breeches; there they are onthe floor. See if you can find anything."

  Julius rose from the pallet and did as he was ordered.

  "There's twelve cents," he said.

  "Good. We'll divide. We can get a breakfast at Brady's Free LunchSaloon. Take six cents of it. I ain't going to get up yet."

  "All right," said the boy.

  "You must look sharp and pick up some money before night, or we shallgo to bed hungry. Do you hear?"

  "Yes, Jack."

  "When Marlowe and I get hold of that gold and plate in Madison avenuewe'll have a grand blow-out. You remember what Marlowe told you lastnight?"

  "About the boy that keeps the necktie stand near Dey street?"

  "Yes."

  "I am to find out all I can about him."

  "Yes. See if you can find out if he has any friends out of the city."

  Julius nodded.

  "We want to have the coast clear, so that we can break in next Mondaynight. The sooner the better. I'm dead broke and so is Marlowe, but Iguess we can stand it till then."

  "All right."

  Jack Morgan turned over and composed himself to sleep again. He hadsaid all he thought necessary, and had no pressing business to callhim up. Julius opened the door and went out, down the rickety stairsand out through a narrow covered alleyway to the street, for the roomwhich Jack Morgan and he occupied was in a rear tenement house.Several dirty and unsavory-looking children--they could not well beotherwise in such a locality--barefooted and bareheaded, were playingin the court. Julius passed them by, and sauntered along toward theCity Hall Park. He met several acquaintances, newsboys and bootblacks,the former crying the news, the latter either already employed orlooking for a job.

  "Where are you goin', Julius?" asked a bootblack of his acquaintance.

  "Goin' to get breakfast."

  "Got any stamps?"

  "Sixpence."

  "You can't get a square meal for that."

  "I'm goin' to 'free-lunch places.'"

  "That's good if you're hard up. What are you doin' now?"

  "Nothin' much."

  "Why don't you black boots?"

  "Haven't got any box or brush."

  "You can borrow mine, if you'll give me half you make."

  "What are you goin' to do?"

  "I'll try sellin' papers for a change."

  "I'll do it," said Julius, promptly, for he saw that the arrangementwould, under the circumstances, be a good one for him. "Where will Isee you to-night?"

  "I'll be here at six o'clock."

  "All right. Hand over your box." So the business arrangement wasconcluded--an arrangement not uncommon among street professionals. Itis an illustration, on a small scale, of the advantage of capital. Thelucky possessor of two or three extra blacking-boxes has it in hispower to derive quite a revenue--enormous, when the amount of hisinvestment is considered. As a general thing, such contracts, howeverburdensome to one party, are faithfully kept. It might be supposedthat boys of ordinary shrewdness would as soon as possible save upenough to buy a box and brush of their own; but as they only receivehalf profits, that is not easy, after defraying expenses of lodgingand meals.

  Julius obtained one job before going to breakfast. He waited foranother, but as none seemed forthcoming, he shouldered his box andwalked down Nassau street till he reached a basement over which wasthe sign, FREE LUNCH. He went downstairs and entered a dark basementroom. On one side was a bar, with a variety of bottles exposed. At thelower end of the apartment was a table, containing a couple of platesof bread and butter and slices of cold meat. This was the free lunch,for which no charge was made, but it was understood to be free tothose only who had previously ordered and paid for a drink. Many camein only for the drinks, so that on the whole the business was a payingone.

  Julius walked up to the bar and called for a glass of lager.

  "Here, Johnny," said the barkeeper.

  While he was drinking, a miserable-looking man, whose outwardappearance seemed to indicate that Fortune had not smiled upon himlately, sidled in, and without coming to the bar, walked up to thetable where the free lunch was spread out.

  "What'll you have to drink, my friend?" asked the barkeeper,pointedly.

  The man looked rather abashed, and fumbled in his pockets.

  "I'm out of money," he stammered.

  "Then keep away from the lunch, if you please," said the proprietor ofthe establishment. "No lunch without a drink. That's my rule."

  "I'm very hungry," faltered the man, in a weak voice. "I haven'ttasted food for twenty-four hours."

  "Why don't you work?"

  "I can't get work."

  "That's your lookout. My lunch is for those who drink first."

  Julius had listened to this conversation with attention. He knew whatit was to be hungry. More than once he had gone about with an emptystomach and no money to buy food. He saw that the man was weak andunnerved by hunger, and he spoke on the impulse of the moment, placingfive cents in his hand.

  "Take that and buy a drink."

  "God bless you!" uttered the man, seizing the coin.

  "What'll you have?" asked the barkeeper.

  "Anything the money will buy."

  A glass of lager was placed in his hands and eagerly quaffed. Then hewent up to the table and ate almost ravenously, Julius bearing himcompany.

  "God bless you, boy!" he said. "May you never know what it is to behungry and without a penny in your pocket!"

  "I've knowed it more'n once," said Julius.

  "Have you--already? Poor boy! What do you do for a living?"

  "Sometimes one thing--sometimes another," said Julius. "I'm blackin'boots now."

  "So I am relieved by the charity of a bootblack," murmured the other,thoughtfully. "The boy has a heart."

  "Can't you get nothin' to do?" asked Julius, out of curiosity.

  "Yes, yes, enough to do, but no money," said the other.

  "Look here," said the barkeeper, "don't you eat all there is on thetable. That won't pay on a five-cent drink--that won't."

  He had some cause for speaking, for the man, who was almost famished,had already eaten heartily. He desisted as he heard these words, andturned to go out. br />
  "I feel better," he said. "I was very weak when I came in. Thank you,my boy," and he offered his hand to Julius, which the latter tookreadily.

  "It ain't nothin'," he said, modestly.

  "To me it is a great deal. I hope we shall meet again."

  Street boy as he was, Julius had found some one more destitute thanhimself, and out of his own poverty he had relieved the pressing needof another. It made him feel lighter-hearted than usual. It was theconsciousness of having done a good action, which generally brings itsown reward, however trifling it may have been.

  Though himself uneducated, he noticed that the man whom he hadrelieved used better language than was common among those with whom hewas accustomed to associate, and he wondered how such a man shouldhave become so poor.

  "I don't want to see that man again," said the barkeeper. "He spendsfive cents and eats twenty cents' worth. If all my customers were likethat, I should soon have to stop business. Do you know him?"

  "Never seed him afore," said Julius.

  He shouldered his box and ascended the steps to the sidewalk above. Heresolved to look out for business for the next two hours, and then goaround to the necktie stand of Paul Hoffman.