True to Himself; Or, Roger Strong's Struggle for Place - LightNovelsOnl.com
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At length we reached the suburbs of Chicago, and rolled down one of the broad avenues. It was now clear and bright, and the clean broad street with its handsome houses pleased me very much.
In half an hour we reached the business portion of the city, and soon the coupe came to a halt and the driver opened the door.
"Here we are," said he.
I jumped to the ground and gazed around. Opposite was the railroad station, true enough, and beyond blocks and blocks of tall business buildings, which reminded me strongly of New York.
I paid the cabman the two dollars I had promised, and he drove off.
In Chicago at last! I looked around. I was in the heart of a great city, knowing no one, and with no idea of where to go.
Yet my heart did not fail me. My mind was too full of the object of my quest to allow me to become faint-hearted. I was there for a purpose, and that purpose must be accomplished.
My clothes were still damp, but the suns.h.i.+ne was fast drying them.
Near by was a bootblack's chair, and dropping into this, I had him polish my shoes and brush me up generally.
While he was performing the operation I questioned him concerning the streets and gained considerable information.
"Did you ever hear of a man by the name of Chris Holtzmann?" I asked.
"I dunno," was the slow reply. "What does he do?"
"I don't know what business he is in. He came from Brooklyn."
The bootblack shook his head.
"This city is a big place. There might be a dozen men by his name here. The street what you spoke about has lots of saloons and theatres on it. Maybe he's in that business."
"Maybe he is," I returned. "I must find out somehow."
"You can look him up in the directory. You'll find one over in the drug store on the corner."
"Thank you; I guess that's what I'll do," I replied.
When he had finished, I paid him ten cents for his work, and walked over to the place he had mentioned.
A polite clerk waited on me and pointed out the directory lying on a stand.
I looked it over carefully, and three minutes later walked out with Chris Holtzmann's new address in my pocket.
As I did so, I saw a stream of people issue from the depot. Some of them looked familiar. Was it possible that the train from Smalleyville had managed to come through, after all? It certainly looked like it.
I was not kept long in doubt. I crossed over to make sure, and an instant later found myself face to face with Allen Price!
CHAPTER XXIV
WHO MR. ALLEN PRICE WAS
I will not deny that I was considerably taken aback by my unexpected meeting with the man who had been following me. I had been firmly under the impression that he was still lolling around Smalleyville, waiting for a chance to continue his journey.
But if I was surprised, so was Mr. Allen Price. Every indication showed that he had not missed me at my departure, and that he was under the belief that I had been left behind.
He stopped short and gazed at me in blank astonishment.
"Why--why--where did you come from?" he stammered.
"From Smalleyville," I returned as coolly as I could. "And that's where you came from, too," I added.
"I didn't see you on the train," he went on, ignoring my last remark.
"I didn't come up by train."
"Maybe you walked," he went on, with some anxiety.
"Oh no; I rode in a carriage."
"Humph! It seems to me you must have been in a tremendous hurry."
"Perhaps I was."
"Why, you excite my curiosity. May I ask the cause of your sudden impatience?"
He put the question in an apparently careless fas.h.i.+on, but his sharp eyes betrayed his keen interest.
"You may."
"And what, was it?"
I looked at him for a moment in silence.
"I came to see a man."
"Ah! A friend? Perhaps he is seriously sick."
"I don't know if he is sick or not."
"And yet you hurried to see him?"
"Yes."
"Well, that--that is out of the ordinary." He hesitated for a moment.
"Of course it is none of my business, but I am interested. Perhaps I know the party and can help you. May I ask his name?"
"It's the same man you telegraphed to," I returned.