as soon as the train had left oswego, skinny took from his pocket the written instructions that mr. korwein had given him and devoted a quarter of an hour to a close study of it. then he put it back in his pocket, consulted a time table of the road and found that there was a station next to rocky point and not more than three miles distant from it. at this station the boy determined to alight and perform the remainder of his journey on foot. it would look suspicious, he thought, for a boy of his size and raggedness to arrive in a village by any such luxurious mode of travel as a railroad train. he felt that he would be expected to go at once from the depot to the best hotel in the town and if he started out in quest of a job he would instantly be looked upon by the authorities as a suspicious character. it would be more in keeping with his appearance as well as his purpose to arrive on foot by way of the high road.

therefore he left the train at the station next the one he was journeying to, and started to 238finish the distance on foot. it was a cool autumn morning with just enough warmth in the sun’s rays to make walking enjoyable. the road which he took afforded him a view of lake ontario, as it ran parallel with the shore of that great inland sea. skinny thought it was salt water; in fact he thought all large bodies of water were salt, and although he soon found himself very thirsty it never occurred to him to go down to the beach which in some places was within fifty yards of the road and take a drink. so he trudged patiently along, hoping to find some well or spring, and while he was walking and whistling he was surprised to see lying by the roadside a new red shawl which had evidently been dropped from some passing vehicle. he picked it up instantly for it was his habit to pick up whatever he could find in his way. it was a good shawl of a bright pattern and apparently had not been worn much. skinny examined it carefully, wondering what use he could make of it. then he shook his head doubtfully, tucked the shawl under his arm and trudged on as before. he had not gone far before he saw a carriage approaching, and as it drew near he noticed that it was driven by a lady who looked anxiously about her on both sides of the road while she urged 239her horse rapidly forward. skinny, who at this moment was enjoying a short rest on a big stone under an oak tree, remarked the lady’s appearance and said to himself “dat must be de one dat lost de shawl.”

his first impulse was to conceal it behind the stone upon which he sat, but another idea—one that was more honest and more politic as well—came into his head, and as she was about to drive past him he started up from his seat and called to her, at the same time displaying the red garment in his hand. the lady stopped her horse suddenly and skinny stepped over to the carriage and said “i found dat shawl up de road, but i guess it’s yours.”

as he said this he found that he was speaking to a young buxom and healthy woman who looked as if she might be the wife of some prosperous farmer. he saw also that she had been driving very fast, for her horse was panting and wheezing very much after the manner of the horses of new york that were used to bring the afternoon papers from park row to the upper part of the city. she looked down at the ragged boy who stood by her wheel with the red shawl thrown over his arm and then she smiled in what the little newsboy thought was a wonderfully sweet and winning way, and 240still smiling, she said: “yes that is my shawl. i lost it about three quarters of an hour ago and i was so afraid that somebody would pick it up and make off with it that i just drove back as fast as i could, to get it. where did you find it?”

“along dere a little ways,” replied the boy indicating with his right hand the direction from which he had come.

“and who are you little boy, and where do you come from?” continued the lady still smiling pleasantly.

“oh i was just out for a walk,” replied skinny with his accustomed air of careless bravado, but just then he happened to remember the role that he was assuming, and he added with great haste “i taut mebbe i could get a job some’rs around here. i want work, dat’s wot i want.”

having said this he politely handed his new acquaintance her shawl and stood regarding her critically through his keen blue eyes. the young lady in her turn subjected the boy to a scrutiny that was as careful as that with which he regarded her and in a moment or two she said “if you will get into the carriage with me i will take you down to my house and perhaps my husband will find something for you to do. 241at any rate, he will give you something for finding the shawl.”

“i don’t want nuthin’ for lettin’ go de shawl. i wanter get a job of some kind ernuther. i tink i’d like ter try a little country life.”

“well, jump in with me and i’ll see what can be done for you” rejoined his new acquaintance, and skinny accepted her invitation without another word. he climbed up to the seat beside her and waited quietly while she turned her horse around and started in the direction of rocky point. the boy enjoyed the ride very much, but although it was full of wonderful surprises to him, he did not show by his face or manner that it was the first time in his life that he had ever been more than twenty miles away from new york. as for the broad expanse of water that lay stretched out before him he was sure it was either the atlantic ocean or the gulf of mexico or the pacific, he did not know which and he did not care enough to ask. as they rode along they passed field after field of ripened corn and wide orchards in which men were busy shaking the fruit from the trees and gathering it in great heaps on the grass ready for packing in barrels. occasionally they passed bits of woodland in which the trees, touched by the early frosts, were 242brilliant in red, yellow and scarlet. farmers passed them on the road, riding in wagons piled high with corn and apples, and once skinny saw a load of yellow pumpkins, the like of which he had never set eyes on before. it was all very new and strange to the city boy, and his keen eyes took in everything about him, but not a word escaped his lips that betrayed his utter ignorance of country life.

he made up his mind, however, that it would be best for him to tell his companion that he had come from new york, because, he argued, she would be sure to find it out herself even if she had not already noticed the difference between a boy from the city and the “jayhawkers,” as he denominated them whom he judged constituted the bulk of the population of the neighborhood. therefore he told her that he had made his way from new york by easy stages—“dey wuz easy too” he said to himself with a chuckle—and that he wanted to get work on a farm or in a country hotel. to the lady who rode beside him, the boy’s desire to get out of the city into the country seemed but a natural one, while his honesty in restoring her lost shawl and his avowed purpose to get work of some kind commended him strongly to her, and she determined to give him whatever 243help she could. on the outskirts of the village of rocky point she drew up in front of a large, comfortable looking farm house and bade her companion descend and open the gate. a tall, sunburned and bearded man who was standing in his shirt sleeves by the barn door now came forward to greet his wife.

“i’ve brought a boy home for you silas,” she remarked pointing to skinny who was standing holding the gate open for her to enter, “what do you think of him?” the husband smiled pleasantly in response but the glance which he bestowed on the new arrival was one of curiosity blended with a degree of suspicion.

“where did you pick him up,” he said as he helped his wife to alight.

it was a strange thing to the newsboy, whose life had been spent in the streets of the great city, to find himself awaking the next morning in a clean, wholesome bed in a room which, if not elegant, was at least comfortable, neat and redolent of old fashioned country herbs. of course he did not question the honesty of his host or hostess but from sheer force of habit and as a precautionary measure, too, he examined the roll of bills in his inside pocket and assured himself that they were all there. 244then he dressed himself, stole quietly down stairs and found mrs. wolcott busy in her big kitchen.

her husband was out in the barn, and there skinny found him, giving the horses and cattle their morning meal. there was plenty about the farm for a boy to turn his hand to, and skinny’s first job was driving the cows out to the pasture where there was still to be found a good deal of grass that had defied the cold weather. it was an easy and not unpleasant task strolling along the road, letting down the bars of the pasture lot, watching the cattle as they streamed through, and then putting up the bars and walking back to the farm house where mrs. wolcott had just put the breakfast on the table. the boy found, too, that his walk had given him an excellent appetite and he consumed such an amount of country luxuries as fairly surprised himself. breakfast over he helped the farmer put the two horses in the big wagon, then climbed in and accompanied him to the corn field a mile away.

by the exercise of his customary and habitual silence, and by carefully watching the farmer and the hired man, skinny managed not only to acquit himself with credit in their eyes but to impress them with the idea, that it might be a 245handy thing to have a boy of his sort about the farm all the time, or at least until the harvesting was over.

during that day skinny did more solid work, ate more good food, and breathed more pure air than in any other one day of his career, and when night came he fell asleep and did not stir again until he was aroused by the farmer early in the morning. then he repeated his experience of the day before, and by the time sunday came around he had come to the conclusion that country life was not so bad, after all, and that there were worse people in the world than “jayhawkers,” as he called them. on sunday morning, mr. and mrs. wolcott started, in their best clothes, for church, a proceeding which seemed so remarkable to skinny that he inquired why they went there. they would have taken him with them, too, if his clothes had been more presentable, but although mrs. wolcott had made some repairs in his torn jacket, and provided him with a new and clean shirt, he was still unmistakably a ragged new york street boy, and would have been out of place in the village church, where all the country lads were taken, neatly washed and combed, and with their boots well greased and their clothes carefully brushed.

246so skinny remained at home with the hired man, who promptly went to sleep on the hay in the barn, after the fashion of all hired men, leaving the strange boy to his own devices. that was exactly what he wanted, and taking a piece of paper and a pencil from the parlor table, he seated himself in a corner of the kitchen, and addressed the following letter to his employer, at the same time congratulating himself on the diligence which he had displayed at the night school in the newsboys’ lodging-house, which had enabled him to write so freely and elegantly. this was what he had to say:

“mr. korwein—

sir:—i have got a job on a farm, and will do what you told me when i get the chance. no more at present, from

skinny.”

the chance which he had been looking for came to him rather unexpectedly that very afternoon, when mrs. wolcott asked him to take a letter to the post-office for her, and suggested at the same time that he should take a little walk around the village.

“wot sort uv tings is dere ter see in dis place?” asked the boy.

“well,” replied the other, smiling, “the usual afternoon walk is down over the bridge to the cemetery, and if you keep up along that 247road a mile further, you’ll find some very pretty woods that go down to the shore.”

“all right,” replied the boy, “i’ll take in all de sights.”

stopping at the post-office, he mailed his own letter as well as the other, and then kept on down the village street, across the bridge and up the hill to the old burying-ground, in which a number of rustic couples were enjoying their regular sunday afternoon stroll. these looked with some surprise and a little amusement, at the ragged boy, who was prowling about from one headstone to the other, reading the panegyrics and inscriptions, and evidently hunting for some particular grave. but although he searched diligently for nearly an hour, he could find no grave-stone that answered the description given him by mr. korwein, and, fearing that he was attracting more attention than he desired, he started to leave, with the intention of returning at some future day, when to his intense surprise, he heard his name called in a familiar voice, and on looking up saw some one whom he knew rapidly approaching him.

like other boys of his class, born and brought up in the streets of new york, and accustomed from the earliest period of infancy to take part in the great struggle of life, skinny 248possessed a degree of stoicism that would have done credit to an indian warrior, and it was seldom, indeed, that he was taken off his guard, no matter what happened. but this time his surprise was so great that he forgot himself, and standing stark still in the path, exclaimed “hully gee!”

the next moment bruce decker was wringing him by the hand, and saying: “what in the world brings you up here?”

skinny grinned broadly, and replied: “i’m a haymaker now, workin’ on a farm here. dere’s lots to eat, and a good place to sleep. i tink i’ll stay here all winter. but i taut you wuz in new york.”

“this is the town i used to live in when i was a small boy,” replied bruce, “and i’ve just come back here for a short visit. this is the first time i’ve been here since i went into the fire department, and it’s great to get out in the country again. but when did you leave the city? i wanted to see you, and i went down to that lodging-house, but you were not there. i was afraid i wouldn’t run across you again.”

“i s’pose yer taut that i wuz goin’ ter sneak wid dat money, but i wa’nt. i’m earnin’ it up here.”

“my mother is buried here.”—page 248.

249“never mind about that money,” rejoined bruce hastily. “i wanted to see you about some other things. i wanted to find out some more about that man with the scarred face you told me about who sent you on the errands up to harlem. have you seen him since we parted?”

for a moment the other boy hesitated, remembering his instructions to observe secrecy. then he remembered that he owed his life to bruce, and that, according to his code, he was bound to him, rather than to a man who was nothing more than his employer. “yes,” he said, hesitatingly, “i seen him de odder day, but he didn’t say nuthin’ about you.”

“no, of course he wouldn’t,” answered bruce, “and i don’t want you to say anything to him about me, either, but for all that, i want to get on his track and find out who he is, just for reasons of my own, and as soon as i get back to the city i want you to take me where i can find him.”

skinny made no reply, but continued to regard the other with his keen, light-blue eyes, and then bruce went on in softer tones: “my mother is buried here, and i came out to see her grave. come over here, and i’ll show it to you.” leading the way, across an empty bit 250of grass, he stopped in front of a small gray headstone, and there the new york street boy read a name which caused him to forget himself for the second time that afternoon, and to exclaim once more “hully gee!”

never, up to that moment, had he in any way connected bruce, whom he knew only by his first name, with the mission on which he had been sent, but now a sudden gleam of comprehension lit up his mind, for he saw on the grave-stone before him the inscription:

sacred to the memory

of

mary, wife of frank decker,

born dec. 1st, 1855,

died sept. 5th, 1877.