Phil, the Fiddler Part 18

It did not take Phil long to come to a decision. He felt that he should never have a better chance. He had three dollars in his pocket thanks to the generosity of the sailors--and this would last him some time.

It would enable him to get out of the city, which would be absolutely necessary, since, if he remained, the padrone would send Pietro for him and get him back.

There was only one regret he had at leaving the padrone. It would part him from his little comrade, Giacomo. Giacomo, at least, would miss him. He wished the little boy could have gone with him, but this, under present circ.u.mstances, was impossible. By staying he would only incur a severe punishment, without being able to help his comrade.

It was still but nine o'clock. He had plenty of time before him, as he would not be missed by the padrone until he failed to make his appearance at night. Having no further occasion to go uptown, he decided to turn and walk down into the business portion of the city.

He accordingly made his way leisurely to the City Hall Park, when he suddenly bethought himself of Paul Hoffman, who had served as his friend on a former occasion. Besides Giacomo, Paul was the only friend on whom he could rely in the city. Paul was older and had more experience than he, and could, no doubt, give him good advice as to his future plans.

He crossed the Park and Broadway, and kept along on the west side of the street until he reached the necktie stand kept by Paul. The young street merchant did not at first see him, being occupied with a customer, to whom he finally succeeded in selling two neckties; then looking up, he recognized the young fiddler.

"How are you, Phil?" he said, in a friendly manner. "Where have you kept yourself? I have not seen you for a long time."

"I have been fiddling," said Phil.

"But I don't see your violin now. What has become of it?"

"It is broken--destroyed," said Phil.

"How did that happen?"

Phil described the manner in which his violin had been stolen.

"Do you know who stole it?"

"It was that boy who tried to take it once in the Park."

"When I stopped him?"

"Yes."

"I know him. It is Tim Rafferty. He is a mean boy; I will pay him up for it."

"I do not care for it now," said Phil.

"But what will your padrone say when you come home without it?"

"He would beat me, but I will not go home."

"What will you do?"

"I will run away."

"Good for you, Phil! I like your s.p.u.n.k," said Paul, heartily. "I wouldn't go back to the old villain if I were you. Where are you going?"

"Away from New York. If I stay here the padrone would catch me."

"How much did you earn with your fiddle when you had it?"

"Two dollars, if it was a good day."

"That is excellent. I'll tell you what, Phil, if you could stay in the city, I would invite you to come and live with us. You could pay your share of the expense, say three or four dollars a week, and keep the rest of your money to buy clothes, and to save."

"I should like it," said Phil; "but if I stay in the city the padrone would get hold of me."

"Has he any legal right to your services?" asked Paul.

Phil looked puzzled. He did not understand the question.

"I mean did your father sign any paper giving you to him?"

"Yes," said Phil, comprehending now.

"Then I suppose he could take you back. You think you must go away from the city, then, Phil?"

"Yes."

"Where do you think of going?"

"I do not know."

"You might go to Jersey--to Newark, which is quite a large city, only ten miles from here."

"I should like to go there."

"I don't think the padrone would send there to find you. But how are you going to make your living--you have lost your fiddle?"

"I can sing."

"But you would make more money with your fiddle."

"Si, signore."

"Don't talk to me in Italian, Phil; I no understand it."

Phil laughed.

"You can speak English much better than most Italian boys."

"Some cannot speak at all. Some speak french, because we all stayed in Paris sometime before we came to America."

"Parlez-vous Francais?"

"Oui, monsieur, un peu."

"Well, I can't. Those three words are all the French I know. But, I say, Phil, you ought to have a fiddle."

"I should like to have one. I should make more money."

"How much would one cost?"