The only thing that worried Tommy Wagstaff was the fact that he did not know how to find Snakeroot Sam. That worthy had been told of the intended start for the West, but, of course, the leader could not give him the precise date of their departure. It was known, however, that he spent a good deal of his time in New York city, and the leader of the party instructed his companions to keep a sharp lookout for him. They did so, but though they pointed out several persons who answered his description, none of them proved to be the individual they were so anxious to meet, and who, doubtless, would have blessed his lucky stars could he have met them.
Tommy Wagstaff was satisfied that the crisis in their enterprise would come when they reached the ferry to buy their railway tickets. Officers would be on the watch for them, and if the three should present themselves at the office and pay their fare to Chicago or some other Western point, they were quite sure to be stopped and compelled to give an account of themselves.
Accordingly, he arranged the matter with the shrewdness he had shown from the first. They separated at the foot of Cortlandt Street and made their way into the railway office, as though they were strangers to each other. Billy had enough money to buy a ticket to New Brunswick, and Jimmy to procure one to Trenton, while Tommy, who had taken charge of the entire funds, paid his fare to Philadelphia. Then they passed through the narrow gateway upon the ferryboat.
The three were alarmed by the sight of a blue-coated policeman, standing at the broad entrance to the ferry, and who scrutinized them sharply as they joined the swarm hurrying upon the boat. The officer followed Billy with his eyes, and seemed on the point of starting after him. The youngster’s heart was in his throat, and he wished that something would blow up and scatter everybody so far apart that no policeman could see him.
So guarded were the boys they did not speak to each other while crossing the ferry, indulging in only an occasional sly glance, as they stepped off the boat and passed up the slip.
Here they were startled again, for the big policeman near the passageway to the trains, after one keen look at Billy, asked him where he was going.
“To New Brunswick,” was the slightly tremulous reply.
“Let me see your ticket,” was the gruff command.
Billy fished out the pasteboard and showed it to the terrible fellow, who was not yet satisfied.
“What are you doing in New York?”