The Young Outlaw; or, Adrift in the StreetsAlger, Horatio, Jr.
History
The Young Outlaw; or, Adrift in the Streets
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Conduct of life -- Fiction; Homeless persons -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction
Sam's principles were not firm, but he had a good place, and the
temptation was not as strong as in Jim's case; so he answered, "Maybe
it would, but it aint ours."
Jim fastened his little black eyes on Sam cunningly.
"It might be," he answered.
"How could it be?"
"You could keep it."
"The doctor'd find it out."
"Tell him somebody hooked it out of your pocket. He wouldn't know."
Sam shook his head.
"I aint goin to lose a good place just for that," he said.
"Think what a lot of things you could do for ten dollars," urged Jim.
"Twenty, you mean."
"That's ten apiece, isn't it?"
"Oh, you want some, do you?" inquired Sam.
"Yes; I'll take it from you, and then give you back half. So, it'll be
me that stole it. They can't do nothin' to you. Come, I'll go over to
Brooklyn with you, and then you can make up your mind."
On board the boat Jim renewed his persuasions, and finally Sam
yielded.
"I'm afraid the doctor'll think I took it," he said.
"No matter! He can't prove nothin'."
"We'll find it hard to change the bills."
"No we won't. I'll tell you where to go. Can you play billiards?"
"No; but I'd like to learn."
"I know, and I'll learn you. There's a saloon over in Brooklyn where
we can go and have a game. We'll pay out of one of the bills."
Now Sam had long wanted to learn the game of billiards, and this
seemed a good opportunity. Perhaps this consideration as much as any
determined him to close with his friend's proposal. When, therefore,
they had reached the Brooklyn side, instead of taking the horse-cars
to Dr. Graham's house, Sam followed his companion to a low billiard
saloon not far away.
There were four tables, one of which only was occupied, for it was too
early. On one side of the room was a bar, behind which stood a man in
his shirt-sleeves.
"Well, boys, what do you want?" he asked.
"We want a table," said Jim. "We're goin to play a game."
The man in the shirt-sleeves produced, from underneath the counter, a
green pasteboard box containing four ivory billiard balls.
"What table will you have?" he asked.
"This one here," said Jim, leading the way to one farthest from the
door.
"Now take a cue, Sam," he said. "We'll have a jolly game."
"You must tell me how to play."
"Oh, I'll learn you."
Jim was not a very skilful player, but he knew something about the
game, and under his instruction Sam made some progress, being able to
make a shot now and then. He was very much pleased with the game, and
determined to devote his spare earnings to this form of recreation
hereafter. When the game was ended, a full hour had passed.
"I didn't think it was so late," said Sam, starting. "I shall have to
go."
"Go and pay for the game first."
"You ought to pay half."
"No; I beat. The one that loses the game has to pay."
"Of course you beat. It was my first game."
"Never mind. You'll soon play as well as I, and then I shall have to
pay half the time."
"Do you think I'll improve?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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