Chapter IX.



Tom Gordon was not only brave, but he was modest; and he hurried away from
the swarming crowd as soon as he was free of the ferry-boat, for he found
it anything but pleasant to be looked upon and treated as a lion. Turning
off into one of the intersecting streets, the two lads walked along in
silence, when Tom said,--

"Do you know, Jim, I'm half-frozen?"

The rattling teeth emphasized the question.

"I should think you would be. Here's a place of some kind; let's go in and
have something to eat, and you can warm yourself."

Jim led the way; and as he pushed open the green-baize doors, which worked
on springs, he saw they had entered one of those nondescript shops, so
numerous in certain parts of New York, where a person can obtain any kind
of alcoholic drink, a cigar, a lunch, a "square meal," or a night's
lodging, or all.

Jim recognized the resort, and he would have withdrawn but through
sympathy for his shivering companion. The latter could scarcely stand from
cold, his clothing was soaked, and, in the keen air, had congealed so
that it rattled like tarpauling as he walked.