Joe the Hotel Boy; Or, Winning out by Pluck by Pluck by Jr. Horatio Alger (novels to read .txt) 📕

“He is running away!” he heard Jack Sagger cry.

“Come on after him!” said another of the crowd.

“Let's take his new coat and vest away from him!” added a third.

The entire party dropped down into the hole and ran to the rear, in a hunt after our hero. In the meantime Joe was feeling his way along a scaffolding where some masons had been at work.

As it happened the entire party under Jack Sagger walked toward the unfinished building and came to a halt directly under the scaffolding. Joe saw them and crouched back out of sight.

“Where is de country jay?” he heard one of the crowd ask.

“He's back here somewhere,” answered Jack Sagger. “We must find him an' thump him good.”

“You'll not thump me if I can help it,” said our hero to himself.

Joe put out his hand and felt a cask near by. It was half filled with dirty water, being used for the purposes of making mortar. A tub of water was beside the cask.

“Tit for tat!” he thought, and as quickly as it could be done he overturned the cask and the tub followed.

Joe's aim was perfect, and down came the shower of dirty water, directly on the heads of the boys below. Every one was saturated and each set up a yell of dismay.

“Oh, say, I'm soaked!”

“He trun water all over me!”

“Ugh! but dat's a regular ice bath, dat is!”

“That's what you get for throwing me into the hole!” cried Joe. “After this you had better leave me alone.”

“I've got some mortar in me eye!” screamed Jack Sagger, dancing around in pain. “Oh, me eye is burned out!”

“I'm wet to de skin!” said Nick Sammel, with a shiver. “Oh, say, but it's dead cold, ain't it?”

Waiting to hear no more, Joe ran along the scaffolding and then leaped through a window of the unfinished building. A street light now guided him and he came out through the back of the structure and into an alleyway. From this he made his way to the street.

“I'll have to hurry,” he reasoned. “If they catch me now they will want to half kill me!”

“Don't let him git away!” he heard Sagger roar. “Catch him! Catch him!”

“Hold on there, you young rascals!” came a voice out of the darkness. “What are you doing around these buildings?”

A watchman had come on the scene, with a lantern in one hand and a heavy club in the other.

“We ain't doin' nuthin,” said one of the boys.

“Maybe you're the gang that stole that lumber a couple of nights ago,” went on the watchman, coming closer.

“Ain't touched yer lumber,” growled Jack Sagger.

“We're after anudder feller wot hid in here,” said Sammel.

“That's a likely story. I believe you are nothing but a crowd of young thieves,” grumbled the watchman. “Every night somebody is trying to steal lumber or bricks, or something. I've a good mind to make an example of you and have you all locked up.”

“We ain't touched a thing!” cried a small boy, and began to back away in alarm. At once several followed him.

“Here's a barrel of water knocked over and everything in a mess. You've been skylarking, too. I'm going to have you locked up!”

The watchman made a dash after the boys and the crowd scattered in all directions. Sagger received a crack on the shoulder that lamed him for a week, and Sammel tripped and went down, taking the skin off of the end of his nose.

“Oh, me nose!” he moaned. “It's busted entirely!”

“Run!” cried Sagger. “If you don't you'll be nabbed sure!” And then the crowd ran with all their speed, scrambling out of the hole as best they could. They did not stop until they were half a dozen blocks away and on their way home.

“We made a fizzle of it dat trip,” said Sagger, dolefully.

“It's all your fault,” growled one of the boys. “I ain't goin' out wid you again. You promise big things but you never do 'em.”

“Oh, Jack 's a gas-bag, dat's wot he is,” was the comment of another, and he walked off by himself. Presently one after another of the boys followed suit, leaving Jack Sagger to sneak home, a sadder if not a wiser lad.