Rough and Ready. Alger Horatio Jr.

      "This is strange," he said to himself when again there was no reply.

      He went across the landing, and knocked at the door opposite.

      A stout woman, with her sleeves rolled up, opened the door.

      "Have you seen anything of my two children, Mrs. Flanagan?" asked Martin.

      "I saw them this morning."

      "I mean since morning."

      "No; the boy took the little girl out about the middle of the day, and I haven't seen either one of 'em since."

      "They didn't say anything to you about going out, did they?"

      "Shure they didn't, and why should they? They go out every day, for that matter."

      "Well, it's time for them to be home now."

      "They'll be comin' soon, it's likely;" and Mrs. Flanagan closed her door, and went back to washing,—for this was her business.

      Martin returned to the lonely room, not altogether satisfied with what he had learned. It was, as he knew, quite unusual for Rose to be gone out all the afternoon, or, at any rate, not to be back at this hour. Besides, as he called to mind, she was not with Rough and Ready when he saw him in the afternoon. Where, then, could she be?

      It was from no particular affection for Rose that Martin put to himself these queries. But it was through Rose that he retained his hold upon Rufus and his earnings. Besides, Rose, though only seven years old, had been accustomed to get the supper, and make tea at times when Martin had not money enough to buy any beverage more stimulating. So, on the whole, he felt rather uncomfortable, and resolved to go out and find the newsboy, and learn from him where Rose was. He descended the stairs, therefore, and made his way to the sidewalk in front of the "Times" office, where Rough and Ready was usually to be found. But here he looked for him in vain. The fact was that our hero had sold off his papers, and a large number of them, with greater rapidity than usual, and was at this very moment sitting at Miss Manning's little table with Rose, eating a comfortable, though not very extravagant, supper.

      Martin went back to Leonard Street, therefore, still with a vague hope that he might find the children at home. But he was destined to be disappointed. The room was as dark and cheerless and lonely as ever.

      "What does it all mean?" thought Martin. "Has the young rascal given me the slip?"

      He had been in the room only five minutes, when there was a knock at the door.

      It proved to be the landlord's agent, who collected the rent.

      "Your month's rent is due, Mr. Martin," he said.

      "I haven't got any money."

      "That answer won't do," said the man, shortly.

      "You'll have to come again to-morrow, at any rate. My boy's got the money for the rent, and he isn't in now."

      "You must be ready to-morrow, or move out."

      "I guess it'll be move then, if the boy doesn't come back," muttered Martin. "One good thing, he can't escape me. I can catch him to-morrow morning when he's selling papers. Rent or no rent, I'll get one more night's rest in this room."

      Although it was yet early he lay down, and did not rise till the morning light entered the room. Then, feeling the cravings of appetite, he got up, and went out in search of the newsboy.

      "He won't find it quite so easy to get rid of me as he thinks for," muttered Martin, with a scowl.

      CHAPTER VII.

      THE NEWSBOY AND HIS STEPFATHER

      Rough and Ready passed the night at the Lodging House, as he had previously determined. The bed which he obtained there was considerably better than the one he had usually rested upon in the room in Leonard Street. He slept soundly, and only awoke when the summons came to all the boys to get up. As our hero lifted up his head, and saw the rows of beds, with boys sitting up and rubbing their eyes, the thought of his freedom from the sway of his stepfather recurred to his mind, and he jumped up in very good spirits. He breakfasted at the Lodge, paying only six cents for the meal, and then hastened to the offices of the morning papers to secure a supply of merchandise.