meantime things had not been going on smoothly at the home of the van kuren children. mr. van kuren, although a devoted and careful father, was so much engrossed in his business that he had comparatively little time to devote to his children, and since the death of their mother, their education had necessarily been left largely in the hands of tutors, governesses and instructors of all sorts. the discovery that the young boy from the fire department whom he had been inclined to regard with so much favor had taken advantage of his intimacy with the children to conduct a clandestine correspondence with the daughter of the house, annoyed mr. van kuren excessively, and he determined to take immediate steps to prevent any repetition of the offense or continuance of the friendship. it was chiefly for this purpose that he finally made up his mind to do what he had long contemplated, and one morning he summoned both children to his study, and threw them into a fever of excitement and delight by bidding them prepare at once for a trip to europe.
213“but must we start to-morrow?” demanded laura. “why, i never can get ready in the world.”
“very well,” replied her father with a smile. “if you’re not ready, you may remain at home while harry, your aunt, mr. reed and i will take the trip. shall i send word to the steamship office that we only need tickets for four?”
“no, no, no,” cried laura, jumping up and down excitedly, “don’t do that. i’ll go right away now and get ready. i’d die if i had to stay home while you and harry went off.”
then both children set about the work of packing up their things and of writing one or two good-bye letters to the friends whom they where leaving behind.
“did papa say how long we were to remain away?” asked laura as she paused in the middle of a letter.
“no,” answered her brother carelessly, “but probably quite a while. i don’t care how long we stay. it will be lots of fun over there, and ever so much better than learning stupid lessons and staying in one place all the time. i guess i’ll write a letter to bruce and tell him that we’re going to europe to-morrow. i won’t say anything about papa getting hold of 214that letter, and when we come back maybe we’ll be allowed to ask him up here again.”
so bruce learned the next day, at the very moment when the steamer was leaving her dock, that his friends had sailed away across the ocean and did not know when they would see him again. europe seemed so far away to the young boy, and a trip across the ocean such a formidable undertaking, that it seemed to him that he had said good-bye to them forever, and that if they did come back at all, they would never be the same.
now mr. van kuren had purposely said nothing to his children about the probable length of their stay, but he had really determined to remain with them abroad for at least a year, with the intention of carrying on their education, at the same time giving them the advantages of travel in foreign lands. once across the ocean, he was satisfied that his daughter would forget the young fireman for whom he feared she cherished a childish liking, and so, as soon as the steamer had passed sandy hook, he dismissed bruce altogether from his mind, and busied himself with thoughts of the days that lay before him.
harry’s letter to his young friend proved a genuine shock, and for fully twenty-four hours 215after receiving it, bruce walked about the quarters, or sat in his accustomed seat in the corner, in a condition of dejection that did not escape the notice of tom brophy or the chief, for they both spoke of it, and both of them hoped that after distinguishing himself as he had, the boy would not allow himself to fall back into the state of discontent and indifference that had previously annoyed them.
at the end of twenty-four hours, however, the boy suddenly regained his good spirits. during his period of gloom he had argued with and succeeded in convincing himself that, after all, the departure of his two cherished friends for europe was the very best thing that could have happened to him. “it made me sore,” he acknowledged to himself, “to go up there to their big house and see all the nice things they had, and then come back to my work again. if a fellow has got to work for his living as i have, he’d much better keep away from rich folks, and not have any friends who can spend a dollar where he can spend a cent. everybody says i’ve made a good beginning, and now i am going to keep right on. if i have any spare time, i’ll spend it with that skinny, working up what laura calls the mystery of my birth.”
216he smiled as he thought of the deep interest with which she used to discuss his affairs, and then a shade of sadness crossed his face as he remembered that she was at that moment out on the ocean, and that he might never see her again. then his good sense acted as a tonic to his resolution, and he went about his duties determined that when she did return, she would find him changed and improved almost beyond recognition.
his confinement in the hospital had left him in no condition to do a full day’s work, and so at the chief’s suggestion he spent a good part of his time out-of-doors, either walking about the streets near the quarters, or else riding up to central park, and strolling about in its pleasant paths, where he could enjoy the bright sunshine and the clear, fresh air to his heart’s content.
it was during one of these rambles that he determined to devote some of his leisure time, and he had a great deal of it now owing to his state of health, to seek out his new boy friend and asking him to aid him in his work of investigation. bruce was by nature a deliberate, slow-thinking boy, who seldom acted on the impulse of the moment, and had a habit of devoting a great deal of thought to whatever 217he went about. he was naturally secretive, too, and up to this time, he had made a confidant of nobody except laura van kuren; not even to chief trask or tom brophy had he spoken a single word in regard to the important matter which had taken up such a large share of his thoughts.
having once made up his mind that skinny was a boy to be depended on, he did not start off at the very instant of his decision to seek him out, but with characteristic reserve waited until the next morning, and then, having obtained a leave of absence until the afternoon, started for the lower part of the city. in front of a tall brick building, not far from what was once chatham street, but is now park row, he paused and looked up. it was the newsboys’ lodging house, and the gentleman who stood in the doorway and asked him what he wanted, was the superintendent.
bruce made known his errand, and the superintendent shook his head doubtfully. “i don’t know where you’ll find that boy skinny,” he replied, “he turned up here some time ago with a story about having been in the hospital, and i must say he looked as if he’d been through some trouble or other, put up here for 218a while and then disappeared, and i haven’t seen him since.”
“well, he told the truth about being in the hospital,” rejoined the visitor stoutly, “for i was there with him, and now i’d like to find him for a very particular reason.”
“i guess,” replied the superintendent, “there are a good many people would like to find him for some particular reason, but i don’t know where he is, unless he’s selling papers around city hall square. i’ll ask the other boys to-night if they know anything about him, and then if you can drop around to-morrow, i may be able to tell you something.”
bruce turned away dejected and distrustful. he was afraid that skinny would drift out of his ken. “i was foolish to let him have that money,” he said to himself, “because he’ll never show up again for fear of being asked for it.”
