The Boy from the Ranch; Or, Roy Bradner's City ExperiencesWebster, Frank V.
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The Boy from the Ranch; Or, Roy Bradner's City Experiences
Webster, Frank V.
City and town life -- Juvenile fiction; Mystery and detective stories; Ranch life -- Juvenile fiction; Thieves -- Juvenile fiction
"Oh, I guess the horse would have slowed up pretty soon, ma'am,"
replied Roy.
"Now don't make light of it," urged the lady. "I wish you would call
at my home, and see us. My husband will want to add his thanks to
mine. Here is our address."
She gave Roy a card on which was engraved the name, "Mrs. Jonathan
Rynear," and the address was uptown in New York.
"The horse took fright when the cabman got down to get something for me
in a store," she said, "and ran away before any one could stop him. I
can drive horses, but I could not reach the reins of this one, and I
dared not let go of my little girl. Now I want you to be sure and
come. Will you?"
"Yes, ma'am," spoke Roy, and then, when Mrs. Rynear had shaken hands
with him again, Roy managed to make his way through the crowd, and,
accompanied by De Royster, he started up the street.
"Well, your entrance to New York is rather theatrical," observed
Mortimer De Royster. "You'll get into the papers, first thing you
know, really you will, my dear fellow."
"That's just where I don't want to get," said Roy quickly, as he
thought that his mission might not be so well accomplished, if Mr.
Annister read of the arrival in New York, of the son of the man whose
agent he was. "How can it get in the papers?"
"Why, the reporters are all over New York. They'll hear of this in
some way, or the policeman will tell them. Besides, the policeman has
to report all such happenings on his post, and the reporters to go to
the police station in search of news."
"But how will they know I did it?"
"That's so. I don't believe they will, old chap. You didn't give the
lady your name."
"No, and I'm glad of it."
"Why; don't you want any one to know you're in New York?"
"Well, not right away. I have certain reasons for it. Later it may
make no difference. But I guess the reporters are not liable to know
it was me."
"No, perhaps not. The policeman may claim the credit of stopping the
runaway. Some of 'em do, so as to get promotion more quickly."
"It wasn't much of a job to stop that runaway."
"Wasn't it? Well, it looked so to me, and I guess it did to the rest
of the crowd. But you're all mud. The horse must have splashed you.
However you'll soon be at your hotel. We'll take a train."
Still quite bewildered by the noise and confusion Roy followed De
Royster up a flight of steps, not knowing where he was going. The next
he knew was that his friend had dropped two tickets into the box of the
elevated station, and they were waiting for an uptown train. Presently
it came along, making the station and track rock and sway with the
vibration.
"Come on," cried De Royster.
"Where are you going?" asked Roy, hanging back.
"On the elevated train, of course."
"It isn't safe!" exclaimed the boy from the ranch. "It is shaking now.
It'll topple down! It needs bracing! Do you mean to tell me they run
trains up in the air, on a track, and they don't fall off?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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