CHAPTER XI
WILLIE MAKES A DISCOVERY
But though Willie made no headway in his investigation, he was making splendid progress with his other work. He was on his mettle now. He had but one thought, night and day. That was to prove his worth. That meant, first, to prove his innocence; and second, to prove his ability. Time might or might not show who really took the papers. Willie, seemingly, could do nothing to clarify the situation. But to attain his other ends, he could do everything.
He began to study his various tasks, to see if there were better or more efficient ways of doing them. He tried harder and harder to be efficient at the gate, to keep things running smoothly, to do all he could to help forward the business of the office. Very quickly he learned where all the various supplies were. He soon knew the ins and outs of the entire place. He knew all the offices in the huge building, and could tell offhand who were in charge of them.
And while he thus became more useful, he was absorbing information that was to make him more useful still. Day after day, the operatives or special agents who worked with the customs inspectors to prevent smuggling, came in and discussed their cases. Willie often heard much that they said. So he came to know the names of persons who had tried to smuggle in goods, the methods they resorted to, and the artifices employed to trap them.
It was extremely fortunate for Willie that there was no other boy in the office. It has been said that one boy is worth half as much as a man, while two boys are worth nothing at all. It might have been somewhat that way with Willie, had he had a companion anywhere near his own age, for he was full of fun and mischief. But every one else in the office had outgrown his puppy days. Even so, Willie might have indulged in some harmless fun at intervals, had not the Chief’s papers been stolen. After Willie once found that the finger of suspicion pointed to him, he lost much of his natural buoyancy of spirit. He was too sick at heart even to want to play. So he settled down sedately, like an elderly gentleman, to his work. Thus he gained fast in knowledge and ability, and without realizing it, turned a disadvantage into an advantage.
It was impossible, however, to repress for very long a nature so buoyant and cheerful as Willie’s. Day followed day. And though the days did not lift the burden of suspicion from Willie, neither did they add to it. Slowly but surely Willie returned to his normal, cheerful frame of mind.
Once this change had come, Willie’s natural curiosity about life asserted itself. In that respect, Willie was like a fox-terrier, now nosing this thing and now that, and always on the alert. Truly he was in a favorable place for one curious about life. All the world was spread out before him, in tabloid form. He had only to search, and he would find near at hand peoples from the farthest corners of the earth. He had only to look, and he would see how men lived in far countries, what they ate and drank and how they worked and what they did to amuse themselves. And all these things Willie was keen enough to learn. So Willie’s return to better spirits fired his curiosity afresh; and his curiosity in turn renewed his spirits. Before he knew it, Willie was very much like the old Willie Roy had known back home—a likable, dependable, whole-souled, jolly lad, but with an unusual amount of sense and understanding.
Once his desire to see was whetted again, Willie turned eagerly to the pleasant task of getting better acquainted with New York. To be sure, he already knew the town’s geography by heart. He could tell an inquirer in an instant where Albany Street or Minetta Lane or Coenties Slip was located. He had learned the names and locations on a map during the search for the secret wireless. Yet mostly these places were still but names to him. When he said Mulberry Street, he did not think of tall brick tenements strung from fire-escape to fire-escape with red peppers, or of gaudy street festivals, or of the teeming population of swarthy Italians that lived in these brick tenements. And when he spoke of Allen Street, he had no vision of a dark, reeking thoroughfare, with the elevated railway trains thundering overhead and shutting out the sunlight, the garbage cans overflowing on the sidewalks, the glittering shops of the brass merchants, and the chattering swarms of Hebrews that filled the street. Now, Willie felt, the time had come for him to know the places themselves, the topography, the life that was lived in these places.
But he was sadly restricted in his efforts. Only after office hours had he opportunity to do any sightseeing. Being at the very end of Manhattan Island, it was necessary for him to ride if he meant to go any distance. Car fares cost money. And the small salary Willie was getting hardly more than sufficed to provide him with food and shelter. He had to be very careful of his pennies. In some respects that was fortunate for Willie. It encouraged, and almost necessitated, his seeing what lay near at hand and could be seen quickly and at no cost. So it came about that Willie began to make a systematic survey of what is probably the most interesting part of old New York—the region from Canal Street to the Battery.
Naturally Willie wanted to see more of the Armenians and the quarter in which they lived. He had never forgotten the occurrences that marked his first visit, nor had he ceased to wonder at those occurrences. And as he boarded right around the corner from the district, he was much to be seen in this odd little nook of lower Manhattan. He had already found the food toothsome and cheap; and more and more he ate in these Oriental cafes. Quite as naturally he began to visit the shops; but as he had little to spend, the few purchases he did make were of the most inexpensive sorts.