Chester Rand Part 38

"My appet.i.te is sure to be good. I was kept so busy to-day that I had hardly time to buy a sandwich for lunch."

"All the better! You'll enjoy your meal. As for me, I don't have the appet.i.te I do at home. There's nothing like a tramp on the open prairie to make a man feel peckish."

"Have you ever been in New York before, Mr. Perkins?"

"Not since I was a boy. I was born up Albany way, and came here when I was about your age. But, Lord, the New York of that day wasn't a circ.u.mstance to what it is now. There was no Elevated railroad then, nor horse cars either, for that matter, and where this hotel stands there was a riding school or something of that sort."

"Are you going to stay here long?"

"I go to Was.h.i.+ngton to-morrow, stopping at Philadelphia and Baltimore on the way. No. I have no business in Was.h.i.+ngton, but I think by the time a man is fifty odd he ought to see the capital of his country. I shall shake hands with the President, too, if I find him at home."

"Have you ever been further West than Minneapolis?"

"Yes, I have been clear out to the Pacific. I've seen the town of Tacoma, where you've got five lots. I shall write out to a friend in Portland to buy me as many. Then we shall both have an interest there."

"You think the lots are worth something?"

"I know it. When the Northern Pacific Railroad is finished, every dollar your friend spent for his lots will be worth thirty or forty."

"I hope your predictions will come true, Mr. Perkins."

"Did I hear you speaking of Tacoma?" asked a gentleman on Chester's left hand.

"Yes, sir."

"I can tell you something about it. I live at Seattle."

"Am I right about there being a future for the place?" asked Paul Perkins.

"You are. I may say that lots there are already worth twice what they were last week."

"How's that?"

"Because work on the railroad has been resumed, and there is no doubt now that it will be pushed to completion."

"That settles it. I must own property there. I won't wait to write, but will telegraph my friend in Portland to go there at once at my expense, and buy five--no, ten lots. I got that idea from you, Chester, and if I make a profit I shall feel indebted to you."

"I shall be glad if it helps fill your pockets, Mr. Perkins."

"Come up to my room for a while, Chester," went on the other, "and we will consider what to do. We might go to the theater, but I think I would rather walk about here and there using my eyes. There is plenty to see in New York."

"That will suit me, Mr. Perkins."

About eight o'clock the two went downstairs. Near the entrance, just inside the hotel, Chester heard himself called by name.

Looking up, he recognized Felix Gordon.

"Are you going to the theater, Chester?" asked Felix.

"No, I think not."

"Won't you introduce me to your friend?"

"Mr. Perkins, this is Felix Gordon, nephew of our bookkeeper," said Chester, unwillingly.

"Hope you are well, Mr. Gordon," said Paul. "Are you fond of the theater?"

"Yes, sir," answered Felix, eagerly. "There's a good play at Palmer's.

I think you'd like it."

"No doubt, but I'd rather see the streets of New York. As you are a friend of Chester, do me the favor to buy yourself a ticket," and Mr.

Perkins drew a two-dollar bill from his pocket and tendered it to Felix.

"I am ever so much obliged," said Felix, effusively. "As it is time for the performance to commence, I'll go at once, if you'll excuse me."

"Certainly. You don't want to lose the beginning of the play."

As Felix started off on a half run, Mr. Perkins said: "Do you know why I was so polite to Felix, who by all accounts isn't your friend at all?"

"No, I was rather puzzled."

"I wanted to get rid of him. He was probably sent here by his uncle as a spy upon us. Now he is disposed of."

"I see you are shrewd," said Chester, laughing.

"Yes, I'm a little foxy when there's occasion," rejoined Mr. Perkins.

"Now, where shall we go?"

I will not undertake to describe the route followed by the two. The city was pretty much all new to the stranger from Minneapolis, and it mattered little where he went.

About ten o'clock the two witnessed from a distance a scene between a man of forty and an old, infirm man, apparently seventy years of age.

"The younger man is Ralston, the gambler," said Chester, in excitement, when they were near enough to recognize the figures of the two.

"Halt a minute, and let us hear what it is all about," returned Mr.

Perkins.

"I am hungry," said the old man, pitifully, "and I have no money for a bed. Have pity on me, d.i.c.k, and give me something."

"You ought not to have come here," returned Ralston, roughly. "Why didn't you stay in the country, where you had a comfortable home?"

"In the poorhouse," murmured the old man, sadly.

"Well, it's no worse for being a poorhouse, is it?"

"But is it right for me to live there when you are rich and prosperous?"

"How do you know I am rich and prosperous?"