Randy of the River; Or, The Adventures of a Young Deckhand

by Jr. Horatio Alger

"I—er—I don't know," stammered Sammy.

"What did he take?"

"Took all my money."

"How much?"

"Ninety-six cents. It ain't all—I've got two cents left."

"Well, if you can point out the thief I'll arrest him," said the policeman. "Come, we'll take a look around."

This was done, but the boy in rags could not be found.

"Drat the luck! I suppose the money is gone fer good!" groaned Sammy, and he was right. For he never saw either the boy or his cash again.

Sammy had expected to remain in the evening and see the fire-works, but now his interest in the celebration was gone.

"Hain't got but two cents left!" he groaned. "Thet won't buy no supper nor nuthin! It's lucky I've got a train ticket back. But I'll have to walk to hum from the station, unless they'll tick me fer the stage ride."