CHAPTER X.
SOMETHING ABOUT HERBERT RANDOLPH.
Had our young hero been more wary, he would not have so easily fallen a victim to the deceit of the genial stranger whom he met on the Bowery. He should have been more cautious, and less ready to assume friendly relations with a stranger. His lack of prudence in this respect was almost inexcusable, inasmuch as he had been warned by Bob Hunter to look out for himself. Moreover, his suspicions should have been excited by the two young fellows he saw on Wall Street, who appeared to be shadowing him.
But none of these prudential thoughts seemed to occur to young Randolph. In Vermont, he spoke to every one with a frank, open confidence. He had always done so from his earliest recollections. Others in his locality did the same. Unrestrained social intercourse was the universal custom of the people. Habit is a great power in one’s life. It guided our hero on this fatal night, and he talked freely and confidentially with his new acquaintance.
“Have you ever been in one of these Bowery museums?” asked the genial young man, after they had chatted for a little time.
“No, I have not,” replied Herbert, in a hesitating manner that implied his desire to enter.
This young man was the same one whose boots Bob Hunter blackened when he was acting the detective, otherwise Peter Smartweed.
The latter smiled at the readiness with which young Randolph caught at the bait.