All this while Bart and the others kept a close lookout for Ned. They did not see him, and, when it was evident that all the inmates of the place had come under their scrutiny, the boys left, their mission unsuccessful. And so it was for several evenings.

Meanwhile Ned, all unconscious of the search being made for him, was puzzling his brains as to what he had better do. He was in no immediate danger of starving, as there were several snowstorms, and he earned enough to pay for his room and live frugally. Still he knew his father and chums would worry but he did not feel he dare communicate with them.

He bought the papers each day, and saw several references to the swindling operations of Skem & Skim. They had not been arrested yet, it stated, and search was being made for them and for a young fellow who was believed to have helped them in their operations by dealing in a number of shares of oil stock.

"That means me," thought Ned, as he read it. "I've got to lay low yet."

So he went his weary way, fearing arrest every moment, yet feeling rather secure now that a week had pa.s.sed and he had not been apprehended. He found several odd jobs to do when there was no snow to shovel and so managed to make enough to live on.

The four boys and Mr. Wilding kept up their search. The police and private detectives did what they could but to no purpose. Personals were inserted in the papers, begging Ned to communicate with his father, but Ned never thought of looking for them.

One afternoon, William, who had adopted the plan of walking about the streets in the hope of seeing Ned, whom he knew by description and a photograph, paused in front of a commission store, where a youth about his own age was helping to move boxes of oranges from a truck. Something about the lad attracted William's attention.

"I wonder if that's Ned?" he said to himself. "He looks just like the boys told me he would and like that photograph Mr. Wilding had. Still I wouldn't like to make a mistake. I must get closer."

He pretended to be searching for a number on the building, and so approached near to the boy helping unload the crates.

"I'll bet it is Ned," William said to himself with conviction. "I'm going to ask him. He can't any more than say no."

He sauntered up to the young fellow, and, with an air of unconcern asked:

"Do you know anyone around here named Ned Wilding? I'm looking for him."

The boy, carrying a crate of oranges, jumped so he almost dropped the fruit. Then he looked sharply at William. His face grew pale, and William was sure he had found Ned.

"I haven't got time to talk," was the rather gruff answer made by the boy with the crate. "I'm busy," and then he hurried into the store with the box.

"Fooled again," thought William. He waited until the boy came out again, and this time he was sure it was the missing youth. But now he decided on a different plan.

"Evidently, if it is Ned, he doesn't want to be known," thought William.

"Something's gone wrong with him. My only chance is in getting some of his chums here to identify him. I must telephone to one of them. They may be at the hotel. If not I'll leave word for them to come here as soon as they get back. Mr. Wilding too! I must 'phone him! Then I'll remain on the watch until some one arrives."

There was a telephone pay-station across the street, and William sent his two messages from there. Neither of the three chums was in, nor was Mr. Wilding, but at both hotels the clerks said they would deliver the messages promptly.

"Now to wait until they come," said William as he left the booth.

Just then, as he was looking at the boy, who was still carrying in the crates, he saw a big man with a red moustache approach him. William was not near enough to hear what the man said, but he noted that the boy seemed frightened.

"Ah I've caught you, haven't I?" exclaimed the man, and Ned (for as William suspected the boy carrying in the oranges was the missing youth) looked up with a start. "I'll teach you to steal my money and run away."

He grabbed Ned by the arm and shook him roughly.

"I didn't take your money, Mr. Ca.s.sidy!" exclaimed the boy, as he recognized the lodging house keeper.

"What did you run away for? I'm on to your game. Now you can come along with me and work out what you stole from me, or I'll hand you over to the first officer I meet. What are you going to do?"

What was poor Ned to do? He was in dire straits. Still it seemed better to go with Ca.s.sidy than to make a scene on the street and be arrested.

He wanted that least of all things.

"I'll go with you," he said, "though you have no right to make me, and I didn't take your money."

"What's the matter?" asked the fruit man, who had hired Ned to a.s.sist in unloading the truck.

"Nothing much," replied Ca.s.sidy. "This lad owes me some money and I'll make him work it out."

"That's your affair," the fruit man replied. "He's earned half a dollar working for me. Here it is."

He was about to hand it to Ned, but Ca.s.sidy took it.

"I'll apply that on account," he said grimly, as he marched Ned away.

The whole affair had occurred so suddenly that Ned did not know what to do. He was in a sort of dream. The appearance of Ca.s.sidy, the confiscation of the half dollar and the lodging house keeper's evident intention of holding the boy to account for a theft he had never committed, made Ned think he was doomed to misfortune, no matter what he did to avoid it.

Then followed a natural desire to escape. He knew Ca.s.sidy had no right to take him into custody, and he felt the injustice of it keenly. The man held him loosely by the coat sleeve, and marched him along through the streets. Several persons turned to look at the spectacle, but no one ventured to interfere. New Yorkers have formed the habit of not taking much interest in affairs that do not concern them directly.

As they were crossing a narrow street in one of the thickly settled tenement districts a horse, attached to a wagon, and rapidly driven, bore down on them. Ned, with the instinct of a quick runner, started to dash ahead. Ca.s.sidy, who moved slower, pulled back toward the curb, to let the steed pa.s.s. The movement separated Ned from his captor, for Ca.s.sidy's hold on the boy's sleeve was broken. Ned was free!

The horse and wagon was now between him and the man. The boy gave a hasty glance back, and saw Ca.s.sidy standing on the crossing, ready to dash forward as soon as the wagon should pa.s.s. He could not go around it because of vehicles on either side.

"Here's my chance!" exclaimed Ned as he dashed forward and ran down the other side of the street.

An instant later the wagon had pa.s.sed and Ca.s.sidy was after him. But the start Ned had he used to good advantage. He was fleet of foot and he had an object in making speed, such as he had never had before. Somewhat to his surprise Ca.s.sidy did not shout to him to stop, and made no outcry.

"I wonder if he's afraid to let people know he's after me?" thought Ned.

The truth of it was, Ca.s.sidy wanted to save his breath for running.

Also, he did not want to raise too much disturbance in his pursuit of Ned. He knew he had no right to take the boy into custody, and, though he knew he could cause his arrest on the false charge, that would not bring back the money Ca.s.sidy thought Ned had stolen. It was the money, or its equivalent, the lodging house keeper was after.

So he decided to try to catch Ned without aid from outside sources if possible. With this in view he started after the fugitive without raising an alarm, though the streets were well filled.

Ned made good time. He speeded down the thoroughfare until he came to where another intersected it, and turned the corner. This put him out of Ca.s.sidy's view.

The second street was not so thronged as the one he had just left, and Ned had a chance to run better. But there was this disadvantage, that he was more closely observed. On the crowded avenue a running lad attracts little attention, but when more plainly in sight, as Ned now was, he becomes an object of interest.

As he ran he looked back over his shoulder to see if Ca.s.sidy was in sight. Past several houses Ned kept on, and his pursuer did not appear around the corner. Then, just as he came in front of a big tenement house Ned saw Ca.s.sidy some distance in the rear.

"I guess I'll go in here!" thought the boy. "Maybe I can slip out of the back before he gets here and that will fool him. I'm going to try!"

He darted into the hallway, but, before he had gone three steps he collided with an old man who, at that instant, was coming from his room into the corridor. The shock threw the old man down, and Ned could scarcely retain his balance.

"Excuse me!" he exclaimed, pausing, when he had recovered his equilibrium, to help the aged man to his feet. "I'm sorry," and then he started to run through the hallway.

"Here! Vait a minute!" the man exclaimed. "Are you tryin' to rob me? I d.i.n.ks you are a t'eef! Hold on! Vait until I see if you haf taken my vatch!"

"I haven't taken anything of yours!" cried Ned. "I'm in a hurry!"

He was almost at the end of the hall, and saw that it opened into a sort of court. Ab.u.t.ting on that was another tenement.

"Vait! You vas a t'eef!" cried the old man, and he set up such a yelling that doors on either side of the corridor opened, and men and women stuck their heads forth, all demanding to know what the matter was.