“That’s a queer way of showing his love,” said Frank, laughing.
“She didn’t want to go with him, you know, but was in love with another chap. When he heard about his girl bein’ carried off, he felt awful, and swore an oath not to rest till he had got her free. Well, at last he got into the castle by some underground passage, and he and the Demon had a fight. Oh, it was bully seein’ ’em roll round on the stage, cuttin’ and slashin’ at each other.”
“And which got the best of it?”
“At first the Demon seemed to be ahead, but at last the young Baron got him down, and struck a dagger into his heart, sayin’, ‘Die, false and perjured villain! The dogs shall feast upon thy carcass!’ and then the Demon give an awful howl and died. Then the Baron seized his body, and threw it over the precipice.”
“It seems to me the actor who plays the Demon ought to get extra pay, if he has to be treated that way.”
“That’s so,” said Dick; “but I guess he’s used to it. It seems to agree with his constitution.”
“What building is that?” asked Frank, pointing to a structure several rods back from the street, with a large yard in front. It was an unusual sight for Broadway, all the other buildings in that neighborhood being even with the street.
“That is the New York Hospital,” said Dick. “They’re a rich institution, and take care of sick people on very reasonable terms.”
“Did you ever go in there?”
“Yes,” said Dick; “there was a friend of mine, Johnny Mullen, he was a newsboy, got run over by a omnibus as he was crossin’ Broadway down near Park Place. He was carried to the Hospital, and me and some of his friends paid his board while he was there. It was only three dollars a week, which was very cheap, considerin’ all the care they took of him. I got leave to come and see him while he was here. Everything looked so nice and comfortable, that I thought a little of coaxin’ a omnibus driver to run over me, so I might go there too.”
“Did your friend have to have his leg cut off?” asked Frank, interested.
“No,” said Dick; “though there was a young student there that was very anxious to have it cut off; but it wasn’t done, and Johnny is around the streets as well as ever.”
While this conversation was going on they reached No. 365, at the corner of Franklin Street.4
“That’s Taylor’s Saloon,” said Dick. “When I come into a fortun’ I shall take my meals there reg’lar.”
“I have heard of it very often,” said Frank. “It is said to be very elegant. Suppose we go in and take an ice-cream. It will give us a chance to see it to better advantage.”
“Thank you,” said Dick; “I think that’s the most agreeable way of seein’ the place myself.”
The boys entered, and found themselves in a spacious and elegant saloon, resplendent with gilding, and adorned on all sides by costly mirrors. They sat down to a small table with a marble top, and Frank gave the order.
“It reminds me of Aladdin’s palace,” said Frank, looking about him.
“Does it?” said Dick; “he must have had plenty of money.”
“He had an old lamp, which he had only to rub, when the Slave of the Lamp would appear, and do whatever he wanted.”
“That must have been a valooable lamp. I’d be willin’ to give all my Erie shares for it.”
There was a tall, gaunt individual at the next table, who apparently heard this last remark of Dick’s. Turning towards our hero, he said, “May I inquire, young man, whether you are largely interested in this Erie Railroad?”
“I haven’t got no property except what’s invested in Erie,” said Dick, with a comical side-glance at Frank.
“Indeed! I suppose the investment was made by your guardian.”
“No,” said Dick; “I manage my property myself.”
“And I presume your dividends have not been large?”
“Why, no,” said Dick; “you’re about right there. They haven’t.”
“As I supposed. It’s poor stock. Now, my young friend, I can recommend a much better investment, which will yield you a large annual income. I am agent of the Excelsior Copper Mining Company, which possesses one of the most productive mines in the world. It’s sure to yield fifty percent on the investment. Now, all you have to do is to sell out your Erie shares, and invest in our stock, and I’ll insure you a fortune in three years. How many shares did you say you had?”
“I didn’t say, that I remember,” said Dick. “Your offer is very kind and obligin’, and as soon as I get time I’ll see about it.”
“I hope you will,” said the stranger. “Permit me to give you my card. ‘Samuel Snap, No. ⸻ Wall Street.’ I shall be most happy to receive a call from you, and exhibit the maps of our mine. I should be glad to have you mention the matter also to your friends. I am confident you could do no greater service than to induce them to embark in our enterprise.”
“Very good,” said Dick.
Here the stranger left the table, and walked up to the desk to settle his bill.
“You see what it is to be a man of fortun’, Frank,” said Dick, “and wear good clothes. I wonder what that chap’ll say when he sees me blackin’ boots tomorrow in the street?”
“Perhaps you earn your money more honorably than he does, after all,” said Frank. “Some of these mining companies are nothing but swindles, got up to cheat people out of their money.”
“He’s welcome to all he gets out of me,” said Dick.
VI
Up Broadway to Madison Square
As the boys pursued their way up Broadway, Dick pointed out the prominent hotels and places of amusement. Frank was particularly struck with the imposing fronts of the St. Nicholas and Metropolitan
