<h2>CHAPTER III.<br/>A SUDDEN MOVE.</h2>
<p>Presently the door was opened, and James Martin
entered with an unsteady step. His breath was
redolent with the fumes of alcohol, and his face wore
the brutish, stupid look of one who was under the
influence of intoxication. He was rather above the
middle height, with a frame originally strong. His
hair and beard had a reddish tinge. However he
might have appeared if carefully dressed, he certainly
presented an appearance far from prepossessing
at the present moment.</p>
<p>Rough and Ready surveyed his stepfather with a
glance of contempt and disgust, which he did not
attempt to conceal. Rose clung to his side with a
terrified look.</p>
<p>"What are you doing here?" demanded Martin,
sinking heavily into a chair.</p>
<p>"I'm taking care of my sister," said the newsboy,
putting his arm protectingly round Rose's neck.</p>
<p>"You'd better go to work. I can take care of
her," said the stepfather.</p>
<p>"Nice care you take of her!" retorted the newsboy,
indignantly.</p>
<p>"Don't you be impudent, you young rascal," said
Martin, with an unsteady voice. "If you are, I'll give
you a flogging."</p>
<p>"Don't talk to him, Rufie," said little Rose, who
had reason to fear her stepfather.</p>
<p>"I must, Rosie," said the newsboy, in a low voice.</p>
<p>"What are you muttering there?" demanded the
drunkard, suspiciously.</p>
<p>"Where are my sister's new clothes?" asked
Rough and Ready.</p>
<p>"I don't know about any new clothes. She aint
got any as I know of."</p>
<p>"She had some this morning,—some that I
bought and paid for. What have you done with
them?"</p>
<p>"I've sold 'em," said Martin, doggedly, his assumed
ignorance ceasing. "That's what I've done with
'em."</p>
<p>"What did you sell them for?" demanded the
newsboy, persistently.</p>
<p>"What business has she got with new clothes,
when we haven't got enough to eat, I'd like to
know?"</p>
<p>"If we haven't got enough to eat, it isn't my
fault," said the boy, promptly. "I do my part
towards supporting the family. As for you, you
spend all your money for rum, and some of mine
too."</p>
<p>"What business is it of yours?" said the drunkard,
defiantly.</p>
<p>"I want you to bring back my sister's clothes.
What have you done with them?"</p>
<p>"You're an impudent young rascal."</p>
<p>"That isn't answering my question."</p>
<p>"Do you want me to give you a flogging?" asked
Martin, looking angrily at our hero from his inflamed
eyes.</p>
<p>"Don't say any more to him, Rufus," said little
Rose, timidly.</p>
<p>"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, stealing a
little girl's clothes, and selling them for rum," said
the newsboy, scornfully.</p>
<p>This was apparently too much for the temper of
Martin, never very good. He rose from his chair,
and made a movement towards the newsboy, with the
purpose of inflicting punishment upon him for his
bold speech. But he had drunk deeply in the morning,
and since selling little Rose's clothes, had invested
part of the proceeds in additional liquor,
which now had its effect. He stood a moment wavering,
then made a step forward, but the room seemed
to reel about, and he fell forward in the stupor of
intoxication. He did not attempt to rise, but lay
where he fell, breathing heavily.</p>
<p>"O Rufus!" cried Rose, clinging still more closely
to her brother, whom she felt to be her only protector.</p>
<p>"Don't be afraid, Rosie," said the newsboy. "He
won't hurt you. He's too drunk for that."</p>
<p>"But when he gets over it, he'll be so angry, he'll
beat me."</p>
<p>"I'd like to see him do it!" said the newsboy, his
eye flashing.</p>
<p>"I'm so afraid of him, Rufus. He wasn't quite so
bad when mother was alive. It's awful to live with
him."</p>
<p>"You shan't live with him any longer, Rose."</p>
<p>"What do you mean, Rufus?" said the little girl,
with an inquiring glance.</p>
<p>"I mean that I'm going to take you away," said
the boy, firmly. "You shan't live any longer with
such a brute."</p>
<p>"Where can we go, Rufus?"</p>
<p>"I don't know. Any place will be better than
here."</p>
<p>"But will he let me go?" asked Rose, with a timid
look at the form stretched out at her feet.</p>
<p>"I shan't ask him."</p>
<p>"He will be angry."</p>
<p>"Let him be. We've had enough of him. We'll
go away and live by ourselves."</p>
<p>"That will be nice," said little Rose, hopefully,
"somewhere where he cannot find us."</p>
<p>"Yes, somewhere where he cannot find us."</p>
<p>"When shall we go?"</p>
<p>"Now," said the newsboy, promptly. "We'll go
while he is lying there, and can't interfere with us.
Get your bonnet, and we'll start."</p>
<p>A change of residence with those who have a superfluity
of this world's goods is a formidable affair.
But the newsboy and his sister possessed little or
nothing besides what they had on, and a very small
bundle, done up hastily in an old paper on which
Rough and Ready had been "stuck," that is, which
he had left on his hands, contained everything which
they needed to take away.</p>
<p>They left the room, closing the door after them,
and went down the rickety stairs, the little girl's
hand being placed confidingly in that of her brother.
At length they reached the foot of the last staircase,
and passed through the outer door upon the sidewalk.</p>
<p>"It's the last time you'll go into that house," said
the newsboy. "You can bid good-by to it."</p>
<p>"Where are we going now, Rufus?"</p>
<p>"I am going to see if I can find, and buy back,
your new clothes, Rose. We'll walk along Baxter
Street, and maybe we'll see them hanging up in some
shop."</p>
<p>"But have you got money enough to buy them
back, Rufus?"</p>
<p>"I think I have, Rose. Wouldn't you like to have
them again?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Rufus; but it is too much money for you to
pay. Never mind the clothes. I can get along without
them," said Rose, though it cost her a pang to
give up the nice dress which had given her so much
innocent pleasure.</p>
<p>"No, Rose, I want you to wear them. We are going
to live respectably now, and I don't want to see
you wearing that old calico dress."</p>
<p>Little Rose was dressed in a faded calico gown, which
had been made over, not very artistically, from a dress
which had belonged to her mother. It had been long
in use, and showed the effects of long wear. It had
for some time annoyed the newsboy, who cared more
that his sister should appear well dressed than himself.
He knew that his sister was pretty, and he felt
proud of her. Feeling as he did, it is no wonder that
his indignation was aroused by the conduct of his
stepfather in selling his little sister's new clothes,
which he had bought out of his scanty earnings.
While they had been speaking, they had walked to
the end of the block and turned into Baxter Street.</p>
<p>Baxter Street is one of the most miserable streets
in the most miserable quarter of the city. It is lined
with old-clothing shops, gambling-dens, tumble-down
tenements, and drinking saloons, and at all times it
swarms with sickly and neglected children, bold and
wretched women, and the lowest class of men. One
building, which goes by the name of Monkey Hall, is
said to be a boarding-house for the monkeys, which
during the day are carried about by Italian organ-grinders.
It was in this street where Rufus had
reason to believe that his sister's clothes might be
found.</p>
<p>The two children walked slowly on the west side,
looking into the old-clothes shops, as they passed.</p>
<p>"Come in, boy," said a woman at the entrance of
one of the shops. "I'll fit you out cheap."</p>
<p>"Have you got any clothes that will do for this
little girl?" asked the newsboy.</p>
<p>"For the little gal? Yes, come in; I'll fit her out
like a queen."</p>
<p>The shabby little shop hardly looked like a place
where royal attire could be procured. Still it might
be that his sister's clothes had been sold to this
woman; so Rough and Ready thought it well to enter.</p>
<p>The woman rummaged about among some female
attire at the back part of the shop, and brought
forward a large-figured de laine dress, of dingy appearance,
and began to expatiate upon its beauty in
a voluble tone.</p>
<p>"That's too large," said Rough and Ready. "It's
big enough for me."</p>
<p>"Maybe you'd like it for yourself," said the
woman, with a laugh.</p>
<p>"I don't think it would suit my style of beauty,"
said the newsboy. "Haven't you got anything
smaller?"</p>
<p>"This'll do," persisted the woman. "All you've
got to do is to tuck it up so;" and she indicated the
alteration. "I'll sew it up in a minute."</p>
<p>"No, it won't do," said the newsboy, decidedly.
"Come, Rose."</p>
<p>They went into another shop, where a man was in
attendance; but here again their inquiries were
fruitless.</p>
<p>They emerged from the shop, and, just beyond,
came to a basement shop, the entrance to which was
lined with old clothes of every style and material.
Some had originally been of fine cloth and well
made, but had in course of time made their way from
the drawing-room to this low cellar. There were
clothes of coarser texture and vulgar cut, originally
made for less aristocratic customers, which perhaps
had been sold to obtain the necessaries of life, or
very possibly to procure supplies for the purchase of
rum. Looking down into this under-ground shop, the
quick eyes of Rose caught sight of the new dress, of
which she had been so proud, depending from a nail
just inside.</p>
<p>"There it is," she said, touching the newsboy on
the arm. "I can see it."</p>
<p>"So it is. Let's go down."</p>
<p>They descended the stone steps, and found themselves
in a dark room, about twelve feet square, hung
round with second-hand garments. The presiding
genius of the establishment was a little old man,
with a dirty yellow complexion, his face seamed with
wrinkles, but with keen, sharp eyes, who looked like
a spider on the watch for flies.</p>
<p>"What can I sell you to-day, young gentleman?"
he asked, rubbing his hands insinuatingly.</p>
<p>"What's the price of that dress?" asked Rough
and Ready, coming straight to the point.</p>
<p>"That elegant dress," said the old man, "cost me
a great deal of money. It's very fine."</p>
<p>"I know all about it," said the newsboy, "for I
bought it for my sister last week."</p>
<p>"No, no, you are mistaken, young gentleman,"
said the old man, hastily, fearing it was about to be
reclaimed. "I've had it in my shop a month."</p>
<p>"No, you haven't," said the newsboy, bluntly;
"you bought it this morning of a tall man, with a
red nose."</p>
<p>"How can you say so, young gentleman?"</p>
<p>"Because it's true. The man took it from my
sister, and carried it off. How much did you pay for
it?"</p>
<p>"I gave two dollars and a half," said the old man,
judging from the newsboy's tone that it was useless
to persist in his denial. "You may have it for three
dollars."</p>
<p>"That's too much. I don't believe you gave more
than a dollar. I'll give you a dollar and a half."</p>
<p>The old man tried hard to get more, but as Rough
and Ready was firm, and, moreover, as he had only
given fifty cents for the dress an hour before, he concluded
that he should be doing pretty well in making
two hundred per cent. profit, and let it go.</p>
<p>The newsboy at once paid the money, and asked if
his sister could put it on there. A door in the back
part of the shop was opened, revealing an inner
room, where Rose speedily made the change, and
emerged into the street with her old dress rolled
up in a bundle.</p>
<h2>CHAPTER IV.<br/>A FORTUNATE MEETING.</h2>
<p>"Where are we going, Rufus?" asked Rose, as
they left the subterranean shop.</p>
<p>"That's what I'm trying to think, Rose," said her
brother, not a little perplexed.</p>
<p>To tell the truth, Rough and Ready had acted from
impulse, and without any well-defined plan in his
mind. He had resolved to take Rose from her old
home, if it deserved the name, and for reasons which
the reader will no doubt pronounce sufficient; but he
had not yet had time to consider where they should
live in future.</p>
<p>This was a puzzling question.</p>
<p>If the newsboy had been a capitalist, or in receipt
of a handsome income, the question would have been
a very simple one. He would only need to have
bought a "Morning Herald," and, from the long list
of boarding and lodging houses, have selected one
which he judged suitable. But his income was small,
and he had himself and his sister to provide for. He
knew that it must be lonely for Rose to pass the
greater part of the day without him; yet it seemed to
be necessary. If only there was some suitable person
for her to be with. The loss of her mother was
a great one to Rose, for it left her almost without a
companion.</p>
<p>So Rough and Ready knit his brows in perplexing
thought.</p>
<p>"I can't tell where we'd better go, Rose, yet," he
said at last. "We'll have to look round a little, and
perhaps we'll come across some good place."</p>
<p>"I hope it'll be some place where father won't find
us," said Rose.</p>
<p>"Don't call him father," said the newsboy, hastily.
"He isn't our father."</p>
<p>"No," said Rose, "I know that,—that is not our
own father."</p>
<p>"Do you remember our own father, Rose? But of
course you don't, for you were only a year old when
he died."</p>
<p>"How old were you, Rufus?"</p>
<p>"I was nine."</p>
<p>"Tell me about father. Mother used to tell me
about him sometimes."</p>
<p>"He was always kind and good. I remember his
pleasant smile whenever he came home. Once he
was pretty well off; but he failed in business, and had
to give up his store, and, soon after, he died, so that
mother was left destitute. Then she married Mr.
Martin."</p>
<p>"What made her?"</p>
<p>"It was for our sake, Rose. She thought he
would give us a good home. But you know how it
turned out. Sometimes I think mother might have
been alive now, if she hadn't married him."</p>
<p>"Oh, I wish she was," said Rose, sighing.</p>
<p>"Well, Rose, we won't talk any more of Mr. Martin.
He hasn't got any more to do with us. He can
take care of himself, and we will take care of ourselves."</p>
<p>"I don't know, Rufie," said the little girl; "I'm
afraid he'll do us some harm."</p>
<p>"Don't be afraid, Rose; I aint afraid of him, and
I'll take care he don't touch you."</p>
<p>The little girl's apprehensions were not without
good reason. They had not done with this man Martin.
He was yet to cause them considerable trouble.
What that trouble was will be developed in the course
of the story. Our business now is to follow the course
of the two orphans.</p>
<p>They had reached and crossed the City Hall Park,
and now stood on the Broadway pavement, opposite
Murray Street.</p>
<p>"Are we going to cross Broadway, Rufus?" asked
his little sister.</p>
<p>"Yes, Rose. I've been thinking you would feel
more comfortable to be as far away from our old room
as possible. If we can get a lodging on the west
side of Broadway somewhere, we shan't be so apt to
meet Mr. Martin. You'd like that better, wouldn't
you?"</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, I should like that better."</p>
<p>"Now we'll cross. Keep firm hold of my hand
Rose, or you'll get run over."</p>
<p>During the hours of daylight, except on Sunday,
there is hardly a pause in the long line of vehicles of
every description that make their way up and down
the great central thoroughfare of the city. A quick
eye and a quick step are needed to cross in safety.
But the practised newsboy found no difficulty. Dodging
this way and that, he led his sister safely across.</p>
<p>"Let us go up Broadway, Rufus," said the little
girl, who, living always in the eastern part of the
city, was more used to Chatham Street and the Bowery
than the more fashionable Broadway.</p>
<p>"All right, Rose. We can turn off higher up."</p>
<p>So the newsboy walked up Broadway, on the west
side, his little sister clinging to his arm. Occasionally,
though they didn't know it, glances of interest
were directed towards them. The attractive face of
little Rose, set off by her neat attire, and the frank,
open countenance of our young hero, who looked
more manly in his character of guardian to his little
sister, made a pleasant impression upon the passers-by,
or at least such as could spare a thought from
the business cares which are apt to engross the mind
to the exclusion of everything.</p>
<p>"If I only had two such children!" thought a childless
millionaire, as he passed with a hurried step.
His coffers were full of gold, but his home was
empty of comfort and happiness. He might easily
have secured it by diverting a trifling rill, from his
full stream of riches, to the channel of charity; but
this never entered his mind.</p>
<p>So the children walked up the street, jostled by
hurrying multitudes, little Rose gazing with childish
interest at the shop windows, and the objects they
presented. As for Rough and Ready, Broadway
was no novelty to him. His busy feet had traversed
every portion of the city, or at least the lower part,
and he felt at home everywhere. While his sister
was gazing at the shop windows, he was engaged in
trying to solve the difficult question which was still
puzzling him,—"Where should he find a home for
his sister?"</p>
<p>The solution of the question was nearer than he
anticipated.</p>
<p>As they passed a large clothing-house, the little
girl's attention was suddenly attracted to a young
woman, who came out of the front entrance with a
large bundle under her arm.</p>
<p>"O Miss Manning," she cried, joyfully, "how do
you do?"</p>
<p>"What, little Rose!" exclaimed the seamstress,
a cordial smile lighting up her face, pale from confinement
and want of exercise.</p>
<p>"How are you, Miss Manning?" said the newsboy,
in an off-hand manner.</p>
<p>"I am glad to see you, Rufus," said the young
woman, shaking hands with him. "How you have
grown!"</p>
<p>"Have I?" said Rough and Ready, pleased with
what he regarded as a compliment. "I'm glad I'm
getting up in the world that way, if I can't in any
other."</p>
<p>"Do you sell papers now, Rufus?"</p>
<p>"Yes. I expect all the newspaper editors would
fail if I didn't help 'em off with their papers."</p>
<p>"You are both looking fresh and rosy."</p>
<p>"Particularly Rose," said the newsboy, laughing.
"But you are not looking very well, Miss Manning."</p>
<p>"Oh, I'm pretty well," said the seamstress; "but I
don't get much chance to get out into the air."</p>
<p>"You work too hard."</p>
<p>"I have to work hard," she replied, smiling
faintly. "Sewing is not very well paid, and it costs
a great deal to live. Where are you living now?"</p>
<p>"We are not living anywhere," said Rose.</p>
<p>"We are living on Broadway just at present,"
said Rough and Ready.</p>
<p>The seamstress looked from one to the other in
surprise, not understanding what they meant.</p>
<p>"Where is your father now?" she asked.</p>
<p>"I have no father," said the newsboy.</p>
<p>"Is Mr. Martin dead, then?"</p>
<p>"No, he's alive, but he isn't my father, and I
won't own him as such. If you want to know where
he is, I will tell you. He is lying drunk on the floor
of a room on Leonard Street, or at least he was half
an hour ago."</p>
<p>The newsboy spoke with some bitterness, for he
never could think with any patience of the man who
had embittered the last years of his mother's life,
and had that very morning nearly deprived his little
sister of the clothing which he had purchased for her.</p>
<p>"Have you left him, then?" asked the seamstress.</p>
<p>"Yes, we have left him, and we do not mean to go
near him again."</p>
<p>"Then you mean to take the whole care of your
little sister, Rufus?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"It is a great responsibility for a boy like you."</p>
<p>"It is what I have been doing all along. Mr.
Martin hasn't earned his share of the expenses.
I've had to take care of us both, and him too, and
then he didn't treat us decently. I'll tell you what
he did this morning."</p>
<p>Here he told the story of the manner in which his
little sister had been robbed of her dress.</p>
<p>"You don't think I'd stand that, Miss Manning,
do you?" he said, lifting his eyes to hers.</p>
<p>"No, Rufus; it seemed hard treatment. So you're
going to find a home somewhere else?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Where do you expect to go?"</p>
<p>"Well, that is what puzzles me," said the newsboy.
"I want some place in the west part of the
city, so as to be out of Martin's way. Where do
you live?"</p>
<p>"In Franklin Street, not far from the river."</p>
<p>"Is it a good place?"</p>
<p>"As good as I can expect. You know that I am
poor as well as you."</p>
<p>"Is there any chance for us in the house?" asked
Rufus, with a sudden idea touching the solution of
the problem that had troubled him.</p>
<p>"No, there is no room vacant, I believe," said the
seamstress, thoughtfully. "If there were only Rose,
now," she added, "I could take her into the room
with me."</p>
<p>"That's just the thing," said Rufus, joyfully.
"Rose, wouldn't you like to be with Miss Manning?
Then you would have company every day."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Rose, "I should like it ever so much;
but where would you be?" she asked, doubtfully.</p>
<p>"I'll go to the Newsboys' Lodging House to sleep,
but I'll come every afternoon and evening to see you.
I'll give Miss Manning so much a week for your
share of the expenses, and then I'll feel easy about
you. But wouldn't she be a trouble to you, Miss
Manning?"</p>
<p>"A trouble," repeated the seamstress. "You
don't know how much I shall enjoy her company. I
get so lonely sometimes. If you'll come with me
now, I'll show you my room, and Rose shall find a
home at once."</p>
<p>Much relieved in mind, Rough and Ready, with his
sister still clinging to his arm, followed the seamstress
down Franklin Street towards her home near
the river.</p>
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