Joe's Luck; Or, Always Wide Awake by Jr. Horatio Alger (web ebook reader txt) 📕

me, it's more than I can do myself."

"Are you on the square?" demanded the other suspiciously.

"Look at me, and see."

The highwayman took him at his word. Lighting a match, he surveyed his captive.

"You don't look wealthy, that's a fact," he admitted. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. I haven't got any money, nor any place to sleep."

"Then you'd better be leaving this place, or another mistake may be made."

"Stop!" said Hogan, with a sudden thought. "Though I haven't any money, I can tell you where we can both find some."

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Come in here, then, and come to business."

He led Hogan into a low shanty on Pacific Street, and, bidding him be seated on a broken settee, waited for particulars.

CHAPTER XXI READY FOR MISCHIEF

Though Hogan was a scamp in the superlative degree, the burly ruffian who seated himself by his side looked the character much better. He was not a man to beat about the bush. As he expressed it, he wanted to come to business at once.

"What's your game, pard?" he demanded. "Out with it."

Hogan's plan, as the reader has already surmised, was to break into Joe's restaurant and seize whatever money he might be found to have on the premises. He recommended it earnestly, for two reasons. First, a share of the money would be welcome; and, secondly, he would be gratified to revenge himself upon the boy, whom he disliked because he had injured him.

Jack Rafferty listened in silence.

"I don't know about it," he said. "There's a risk."

"I don't see any risk. We two ought to be a match for a boy."

"Of course we are. If we wasn't I'd go hang myself up for a milksop.
Are you sure there's no one else with him?"

"Not a soul."

"That's well, so far; but we might be seen from the outside."

"We can keep watch."

"Do you think the boy's got much money about him?"

"Yes; he's making money hand over fist. He's one of those mean chaps that never spend a cent, but lay it all by. Bah!"

So Hogan expressed his contempt for Joe's frugality.

"All the better for us. How much might there be now, do you think?"

"Five hundred dollars, likely."

"That's worth risking something for," said Jack thoughtfully.

"We'll share alike?" inquired Hogan anxiously.

"Depends on how much you help about gettin' the money," said Jack carelessly.

Hogan, who was not very courageous, did not dare push the matter though he would have liked a more definite assurance. However, he had another motive besides the love of money, and was glad to have the cooperation of Rafferty, though secretly afraid of his ruffianly accomplice.

It was agreed to wait till midnight. Till then both men threw themselves down and slept.

As the clock indicated midnight, Rafferty shook Hogan roughly.

The latter sat up and gazed, in terrified bewilderment, at Jack, who was leaning over him, forgetting for the moment the compact into which he had entered.

"What do you want?" he ejaculated.

"It's time we were about our business," growled Jack.

"It's struck twelve."

"All right!" responded Hogan, who began to feel nervous, now that the crisis was at hand.

"Don't sit rubbing your eyes, man, but get up."

"Haven't you got a drop of something to brace me up?" asked Hogan nervously.

"What are you scared of, pard?" asked Rafferty contemptuously.

"Nothing," answered Hogan, "but I feel dry."

"All right. A drop of something will warm us both up."

Jack went behind the counter, and, selecting a bottle of rot-gut whisky, poured out a stiff glassful apiece.

"Drink it, pard," he said.

Hogan did so, nothing loath.

"That's the right sort," he said, smacking his lips. "It's warming to the stomach."

So it was and a frequent indulgence in the vile liquid would probably have burned his stomach and unfitted it for service. But the momentary effect was stimulating, and inspired Hogan with a kind of Dutch courage, which raised him in the opinion of his burly confederate.

"Push ahead, pard," said he. "I'm on hand."

"That's the way to talk," said Rafferty approvingly. "If we're lucky, we'll be richer before morning."

Through the dark streets, unlighted and murky, the two confederates made their stealthy way, and in five minutes stood in front of Joe's restaurant.

CHAPTER XXII CHECKMATED

Everything looked favorable for their plans. Of course, the restaurant was perfectly dark, and the street was quite deserted.

"How shall we get in?" asked Hogan of his more experienced accomplice.

"No trouble—through the winder."

Rafferty had served an apprenticeship at the burglar's trade, and was not long in opening the front window. He had no light and could not see that Joe had a companion. If he had discovered this, he would have been more cautious.

"Go in and get the money," said he to Hogan.

He thought it possible that Hogan might object, but the latter had a reason for consenting. He thought he might obtain for himself the lion's share of the plunder, while, as to risk, there would be no one but Joe to cope with, and Hogan knew that in physical strength he must be more than a match for a boy of sixteen.

"All right!" said Hogan. "You stay at the window and give the alarm if we are seen."

Rafferty was prompted by a suspicion of Hogan's good faith in the proposal he made to him. His ready compliance lulled this suspicion, and led him to reflect that, perhaps, he could do the work better himself.

"No," said he. "I'll go in and you keep watch at the winder."

"I'm willing to go in," said Hogan, fearing that he would not get his fair share of the plunder.

"You stay where you are, pard!" said Rafferty, in a tone of command.
"I'll manage this thing myself."

"Just as you say," said Hogan, slightly disappointed.

Rafferty clambered into the room, making as little noise as possible. He stood still a moment, to accustom his eyes to the darkness. His plan was to discover where Joe lay, wake him up, and force him, by threats of instant death as the penalty for non-compliance, to deliver up all the money he had in the restaurant.

Now, it happened that Joe and his guest slept in opposite corners of the room. Rafferty discovered Joe, but was entirely ignorant of the presence of another person in the apartment.

Joe waked on being rudely shaken.

"Who is it?" he muttered drowsily.

"Never mind who it is!" growled Jack in his ear. "It's a man that'll kill you if you don't give up all the money you've got about you!"

Joe was fully awake now, and realized the situation. He felt thankful that he was not alone, and it instantly flashed upon him that Watson had a revolver. But Watson was asleep. To obtain time to form a plan, he parleyed a little.

"You want my money?" he asked, appearing to be confused.

"Yes—and at once! Refuse, and I will kill you!"

I won't pretend to deny that Joe's heart beat a little quicker than its wont. He was thinking busily. How could he attract Watson's attention?

"It's pretty hard, but I suppose I must," he answered.

"That's the way to talk."

"Let me get up and I'll get it."

Joe spoke so naturally that Rafferty suspected nothing. He permitted our hero to rise, supposing that he was going for the money he demanded.

Joe knew exactly where Watson lay and went over to him. He knelt down and drew out the revolver from beneath his head, at the same time pushing him, in the hope of arousing him. The push was effectual. Watson was a man whose experience at the mines had taught him to rouse at once. He just heard Joe say:

"Hush!"

"What are you so long about?" demanded Rafferty suspiciously.

"I've got a revolver," said Joe unexpectedly; "and, if you don't leave the room, I'll fire!"

With an oath, Rafferty, who was no coward, sprang upon Joe, and it would have gone hard with him but for Watson. The latter was now broad awake. He seized Rafferty by the collar, and, dashing him backward upon the floor, threw himself upon him.

"Two can play at that game!" said he. "Light the candle, Joe."

"Help, pard!" called Rafferty.

But Hogan, on whom he called, suspecting how matters stood, was in full flight.

The candle was lighted, and in the struggling ruffian Joe recognized the man who, three months before, had robbed him of his little all.

CHAPTER XXIII NOT WHOLLY BLACK

"I know this man, Mr. Watson," said Joe.

"Who is he?"

"He is the same man who robbed me of my money one night about three months ago—the one I told you of."

For the first time, Rafferty recognized Joe.

"There wasn't enough to make a fuss about," he said. "There was only two dollars and a half."

"It was all I had."

"Let me up!" said Rafferty, renewing his struggles.

"Joe, have you got a rope?" asked Watson.

"Yes."

"Bring it here, then. I can't hold this man all night."

"What are you going to do with me?" demanded Rafferty uneasily.

"Tie you hand and foot till to-morrow morning and then deliver you over to the authorities."

"No, you won't!"

He made a renewed struggle, but Watson was a man with muscles of iron, and the attempt was unsuccessful.

It was not without considerable difficulty, however, that the midnight intruder was secured. When, at length, he was bound hand and foot, Watson withdrew to a little distance. Joe and he looked at Rafferty, and each felt that he had seldom seen a more brutal face.

"Well," growled Rafferty, "I hope you are satisfied?"

"Not yet," returned Watson. "When you are delivered into the hands of the authorities we shall be satisfied."

"Oh, for an hour's freedom!" muttered Jack Rafferty, expressing his thoughts aloud.

"What use would you make of it?" asked Watson, in a tone of curiosity.

"I'd kill the man that led me into this trap!"

Watson and Joe were surprised.

"Was there such a man. Didn't you come here alone?"

"No; there was a man got me to come. Curse him, He told me I would only find the boy here!"

"What has become of him?"

"He ran away, I reckon, instead of standing by me."

"Where was he?"

"At the winder."

"Could it have been Hogan?" thought Joe.

"I think I know the man," said our hero. "I'll describe the man I mean and you can tell me if it was he."

He described Hogan as well as he could.

"That's the man," said Rafferty. "I wouldn't peach if he hadn't served me such a mean trick. What's his name?"

"His name is Hogan. He came over on the same steamer with me, after robbing me of fifty dollars in New York. He has been at the mines, but didn't make out well. This very afternoon I gave him supper—all he could eat—and charged him nothing for it. He repays me by planning a robbery."

"He's a mean skunk," said Watson bluntly.

"You're right, stranger," said Rafferty. "I'm a scamp myself, but
I'll be blowed if I'd turn on a man that fed me when I was hungry."

The tones were gruff but the man was evidently sincere.

"You're better than you look," said Watson, surprised to hear such a sentiment from a man of such ruffianly appearance.

Jack Rafferty laughed shortly.

"I ain't used to compliments," he said, "and I expect I'm bad enough, but I ain't all bad. I won't turn on my pal, unless he does it first, and I ain't mean enough to rob a man that's done me a good turn."

"No, you ain't all bad," said Watson. "It's a pity you won't make up your mind to earn an honest living."

"Too late for that, I reckon. What do you think they'll do with me?"

In those days punishments were summary and severe. Watson knew it and