"Do I really mean it," echoed Ben, "well, watch me. Hullo!" he exclaimed suddenly, "there goes the last whistle. Well, good-by for the present and give me your address and I'll let you know as soon as I find out anything. Whoop-ee! it's good to see you lads again."
So saying, after a hearty clasp of the hand the former mariner ran up the wharf and was pulled aboard clinging to one end of the gang-plank like a fly.
As Billy started for the hotel to meet the others, he was musing deeply over what he had overheard. So engrossed was he in his thoughts, in fact that when a rather roughly-dressed man stepped in front of him and peered into his face once or twice, as if to make certain he was the lad he sought, Billy gave an involuntary start. He was walking beside the gloomy arches of Brooklyn Bridge, some of which are used for refrigerating plants and others to store all kinds of goods, from hides to tin articles. It is a little frequented part of town except by persons walking across town from East River steamers.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Your name Barnes, young feller?" was the response.
"It is—what do you want?"
"Old man named Eben Joyce was just run over. They carried him into my house and he sent me to look for you."
"How did you come to recognize me in the street?" demanded Billy, feeling a strong distrust of the stranger, who had little rat-like eyes and a furtive manner.
"I was on my way ter yer noospaper office, guv'ner," rejoined the other, "but you see I had such a good description of yer handsome face that I couldn't miss but rec'ernize yer when I ran inter yer in the street."
Now if Billy had thought this explanation over he would have seen that it would not hold water for a minute, but he was excited by the events of the day and in no mood for reflection.