Boy Broker; Or, Among the Kings of Wall Street

  CHAPTER X.

  SOMETHING ABOUT HERBERT RANDOLPH.

  Had our young hero been more wary, he would not have so easily fallen avictim to the deceit of the genial stranger whom he met on the Bowery.He should have been more cautious, and less ready to assume friendlyrelations with a stranger. His lack of prudence in this respect wasalmost inexcusable, inasmuch as he had been warned by Bob Hunter to lookout for himself. Moreover, his suspicions should have been excited bythe two young fellows he saw on Wall Street, who appeared to beshadowing him.

  But none of these prudential thoughts seemed to occur to young Randolph.In Vermont, he spoke to every one with a frank, open confidence. He hadalways done so from his earliest recollections. Others in his localitydid the same. Unrestrained social intercourse was the universal customof the people. Habit is a great power in one's life. It guided our heroon this fatal night, and he talked freely and confidentially with hisnew acquaintance.

  "Have you ever been in one of these Bowery museums?" asked the genialyoung man, after they had chatted for a little time.

  "No, I have not," replied Herbert, in a hesitating manner that impliedhis desire to enter.

  This young man was the same one whose boots Bob Hunter blackened when hewas acting the detective, otherwise Peter Smartweed.

  The latter smiled at the readiness with which young Randolph caught atthe bait.

  "Well, you have missed a treat," said he, with assumed surprise.

  "I suppose so," replied Herbert, feeling that his education had beenneglected.

  "They have some wonderful curiosities in some of these museums,"continued the young confidence scamp.

  "So I should think, from the looks of these pictures."

  "But this is the poorest museum on the Bowery. There are some greatcuriosities in some of them, and a regular show."

  "Have you been in all of them?" asked Herbert.

  "Oh, yes, dozens of times. Why, I can go into one of the museumswhenever I like, without paying a cent, and it is the best one in NewYork."

  "Can you?" said Herbert, with surprise. "I wish I could go in free."

  "I can fix that for you all right," said Peter, magnanimously. "I oftentake a friend in with me."

  "And it doesn't cost you anything?"

  "No, not a cent. If you like, we will stroll down the Bowery, and dropin for a little while. By the way, I remember now that a new curiosity,a three headed woman, is on exhibition there."

  "A three headed woman!" exclaimed Herbert; "she must be a wonderfulsight!"

  "So she is. Come on, let's go and see her. It is not down very far. Youhave nothing to do, I suppose?"

  "No, only to pass the time away for an hour or so."

  "Very well, then, you can't pass it in any more agreeable way than this,I am sure."

  "You are very kind," replied Herbert, as they moved off in the directionof the supposed museum. He had no thought of danger, as he walked alongwith his new friend, happy in anticipation of the pleasure before him.Could he, however, have realized that he was the victim of a shrewdconfidence game, that every step he now took was bringing him nearerto the trap that had been set for him by cruel, unscrupulous villains,how his whole being would have revolted against the presence of theunprincipled fellow beside him, who was now coolly leading him on to hisruin.

  Presently they turned up a side street, and soon stopped before a low,ugly building.

  A SURPRISE FOR FELIX MORTIMER.]

  "The museum is on the next street," remarked young Smartweed, as he rangthe bell three times. "We have to walk through this court, to reach itby the back passage."

  Still Herbert's suspicions slumbered.

  And now the catch to the door was pulled back, and our unfortunate heroand his companion passed in. The hallway was ominously dark. They gropedtheir way forward till a second door was reached, and here the leaderknocked three times, then paused for a moment and knocked once more.After a brief interval three more knocks precisely like the first weregiven, and then the door opened.

  The two stepped quickly into the room, and Herbert's arms were instantlyseized by some one from behind the door, and drawn backward by an effortto fasten the wrists together behind him. Quicker than thought, youngRandolph wrested his arms from the grip that was upon them, and, turninglike a flash, planted a solid blow upon the jaw of his assailant--a blowwhich sent him, with a terrified yell, sprawling to the floor.

  Then it was that he recognized, in the prostrate figure, Felix Mortimer,and a sickening sense of the awful truth dawned upon him. He wastrapped!

  The genial friend whom he had met on the Bowery now showed his realcharacter, and before Herbert could further defend himself, he waspounced upon by him and a villainous looking man with a scraggy redbeard and most repulsive features. They threw a thick black cloth overhis head, and, after binding his hands firmly together, thrust him intoa dark vault, or pen, in the cellar.

  Our hero realized now most fully his helpless and defenselessposition--a position that placed him entirely at the mercy of hisenemies; if mercy in any degree dwelt in the breasts of the cruel bandof outlaws in whose den he was now a prisoner.