"And the sooner we get to Brooklyn, the better," I added. "Do you think it will be advisable for me to hunt up Mrs. Agatha Mitts to-night?"
"I think it would. Even if you don't call on her, you can find out about her and see how the land lies. We will find a hotel to stop at first."
We were soon in New York and on our way up Broadway. Opposite the post-office we found an elegant hotel, where Mr. Harrison hired a room for himself.
He insisted on my having supper with him. Then leaving our handbags in his room, we started for the Fulton Street ferry to Brooklyn.
It was now growing dark, and the streets were filled with people hurrying homeward. I tried to keep as close to Mr. Harrison as possible, but something in a window attracted my attention, and when I looked around he was gone.
I supposed he had gone on ahead and hurried to catch him. But in this I was mistaken, for in no direction could I catch sight of the gentleman.
Deeply concerned, I stood on the corner of a narrow street or alley, undecided what to do. Should I go on to Brooklyn or retrace my steps to the hotel?
I had about made up my mind to go on, when a disturbance down the alley attracted my attention.
Straining my eyes in the semi-darkness, I discovered several rough-looking young fellows in a group.
"Give it to him, Bandy; hit him over the head!" I heard one of them exclaim.