"Of course, my dear fellow. We're on the ferry boat, crossing to New York. What did yew think?" "Are we on a boat?" "Certainly. Where did you think you were?" "I thought we were in the depot room, waiting for the boat to come in." "Why, no. This is the boat. But of course the approach to it is through the depot, and it is hard to tell exactly where the dock leaves off and the boat begins. I should have told you, but I got interested in the paper." "I was a little startled at first," admitted Roy with a smile. "I thought something had happened." Several passengers who had heard this exclamation, were also smiling, but Roy did not mind this. Everything was so strange and novel that he wanted to see it all at once. It was no wonder that he mistook the boat for the waiting room of the station, as the ferry boat was so broad, and the cabin so large, that often strangers are deceived that way. De Royster soon took Roy out on the lower deck, and showed him New York, lying across the Hudson river, the sky-scrapers towering above the water line, the various boats plying to and fro, and the great harbor. "It's wonderful! Wonderful!" exclaimed the boy from the ranch. "It's different from what I expected. I never even dreamed New York was like this." "Wait; you haven't begun to see it." And, a little later, when they landed, and were crossing West street, with its congested traffic, Roy began to think his companion was right. For a moment the noise and excitement confused the boy. There were two long lines of vehicles, mostly great trucks and drays, going up and down, for West street is on the water front, adjoining the docks where the steamships come in, and the wagons cart goods to and from them. Then there was a big throng of people, hurrying to and from the ferries, several of which came in close together. The people all seemed in a rush, a trait, which Roy was soon to discover, affected nearly every one in New York. He saw policemen standing on the crossings, and, whenever the officer held up his hand, the travel of the vehicles stopped as if by magic, leaving a lane for pedestrians to cross. "He's got them pretty well trained," observed Roy. "Yes, he belongs to the traffic squad. Any driver who refused to do as the officer says, will be arrested. But come on. I want to take you to your hotel." Trying to see everything at once, Roy followed his new friend. Suddenly, as he was in the midst of a press of wagons, men and women, in the middle of the street, he heard a cry: "Runaway! Runaway! Horse is coming! Look out!" Instantly the policeman began shoving people to one side, to get them out of the path of the runaway. Truck drivers began pulling their steeds to either curb. Roy looked down the street and saw a horse, attached to a cab, coming on at a gallop. Thanks to the prompt action of other drivers the runaway had a clear field.