“No, you wouldn’t. You’re nothin’ but a babby. You couldn’t do nothin’!”
“Couldn’t I?” returned Tom. “I’d let ’em know whether I was a baby.”
“Well, you go along now,” said Meg. “Your money’s gone, and you can’t get it back. Next time give it to me to keep, and it’ll be safe.”
Being penniless, Tom was in considerable uncertainty when she would again be mistress of so large a sum. At present she felt in no particular dread of being robbed. She left the lodgings, realizing that the money was indeed gone beyond hope of recovery.
There is some comfort in beginning the day with a good breakfast. It warms one up, and inspires hope and confidence. As a general rule people are good-natured and cheerful after a hearty breakfast. For ten cents Tom might have got a cup of coffee, or what passed for such, and a plate of tea-biscuit. With the other fifteen she could have bought a few morning papers, and easily earned enough to pay for a square meal in the middle of the day. Now she must go to work without capital, and on an empty stomach, which was rather discouraging. She would have fared better than this at granny’s, though not much, her breakfast there usually consisting of a piece of stale bread, with perhaps a fragment of cold sausage. Coffee, granny never indulged in, believing whiskey to be more healthful. Occasionally, in moments of extreme good nature, she had given Tom a sip of whiskey; but the young Arab had never got to like it, fortunately for herself, though she had accepted it as a variation of her usual beverage, cold water.
In considering what she should do for the day, Tom decided to go to some of the railway stations or steamboat landings, and try to get a chance to carry a carpet-bag. “Baggage-smashing” required no capital, and this was available in her present circumstances.
Tom made her way to the pier where the steamers of the Fall River line arrive. Ordinarily it would have been too late, but it had been a windy night, the sound was rough, and the steamer was late, so that Tom arrived just in the nick of time.
Tom took her place among the hackmen, and the men and boys who, like her, were bent on turning an honest penny by carrying baggage.
“Clear out of the way here, little gal!” said a stout, overgrown boy. “Smash your baggage, sir?”
“Clear out yourself!” said Tom, boldly. “I’ve got as much right here as you.”