“I don’t know, Abe. I often wonder what I am talking about. At one time I engaged a cultured person to translate my language for me. But when he explained it to me, some of the things I said so shocked me that I immediately discharged him. I concluded that it was better for me to pass through life in blissful ignorance of the real meaning of my own fluent conversation. But stay, Abe, stay! Methinks I have forgotten something. Even so, I have left my hundred-dollar meerschaum pipe in that restaurant. I placed it on the table at my elbow, and came away without it. It’s ten chances to one that the waiter has already gathered it unto his person, and is now chortling with glee over his good fortune. Pause here a moment, while I hasten back to recover my property. I will return before any elongated amount of time has evaporated.” Saying which, Wiley quickly dashed back into the restaurant, leaving the boy waiting upon the sidewalk. Barely had the sailor disappeared when a closed cab stopped at the curb, and from it sprang two black-bearded men, whose slouch hats were pulled low down over their eyes. Before Abe could dream that he was in the slightest danger, these men seized him. One of them clapped a broad hand over his mouth, to prevent him from making an outcry, and in a most astonishing manner he was snapped up, carried to the cab, and lifted into it. If passing pedestrians observed this daring piece of work it was completed before one of them thought of interfering. The cab door closed with a bang. The driver whipped up his horses, and the astonished and frightened hunchback was borne swiftly away. “Keep still, boy!” growled one of the bearded men. “If you raise a yell you’ll be sorry. We’re not going to hurt you.” Abe had managed to cling to his fiddle, which was a habit of his at all times. He was terrified, shocked, and almost smothered. “Don’t!” he begged. “What have I done to you? Let me go, please! Let me go!” “We’ll let you go,” was the retort. “We’re just going to give you a little ride. You will enjoy it.” “Look out for him,” cautioned the other man. “He may set up a whoop.” “I know he won’t, because I’ll choke the gizzard out of him if he does. Don’t you even peep, kid!” “I never hurt you,” whispered the agitated boy. “Let me get out. Cap’n Wiley will miss me. He told me to wait.” “You didn’t have time to wait, kid. You was in a hurry. You met some very dear friends, who took a great interest in you, and you couldn’t linger for Cap’n Wiley.” “Where are you taking me?” “Oh, we will take you to a nice place, where there are lots of pretty things, and you will enjoy yourself. Eh, Sam?” “Sure, Bill!” agreed Sam. “I don’t want to go.” “Oh! yes, you do; yes, you do. Perhaps you think you don’t want to go, but you do. You will have a nice time—eh, Sam?” “Sure, Bill! He will enjoy himself immensely.” “Why did you do it?”