Phil, the Fiddler Read online

  CHAPTER XIX

  PIETRO'S PURSUIT

  The distance from New York to Newark is but ten miles. Phil had beenthere once before with an older boy. He was at no loss, therefore, as tothe proper place to get out. He stepped from the cars and found himselfin a large depot. He went out of a side door, and began to wander aboutthe streets of Newark. Now, for the first time, he felt that he wasworking for himself, and the feeling was an agreeable one. True, he didnot yet feel wholly secure. Pietro might possibly follow in the nexttrain. He inquired at the station when the next train would arrive.

  "In an hour," was the reply.

  It would be an hour, therefore, before Pietro could reach Newark.

  He decided to walk on without stopping till he reached the outskirtsof the city, and not venture back till nightfall, when there would belittle or no danger.

  Accordingly he plodded on for an hour and a half, till he came where thehouses were few and scattered at intervals. In a business point of viewthis was not good policy, but safety was to be consulted first of all.He halted at length before a grocery store, in front of which he saw asmall group of men standing. His music was listened to with attention,but when he came to pass his cap round afterward the result was small.In fact, to be precise, the collection amounted to but eight cents.

  "How's business, boy?" asked a young man who stood at the door in hisshirt-sleeves, and was evidently employed in the grocery.

  "That is all I have taken," said Phil, showing the eight cents.

  "Did you come from New York this morning?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you haven't got enough to pay for your ticket yet?"

  Phil shrugged his shoulders.

  "I don't believe you'll make your fortune out here."

  Phil was of precisely the same opinion, but kept silent.

  "You would have done better to stay in New York."

  To this also Phil mentally assented, but there were imperative reasons,as we know, for leaving the great city.

  It was already half-past twelve, and Phil began, after his walk, tofeel the cravings of appetite. He accordingly went into the grocery andbought some crackers and cheese, which he sat down by the stove and ate.

  "Are you going farther?" asked the same young man who had questioned himbefore.

  "I shall go back to Newark to-night," said Phil.

  "Let me try your violin."

  "Can you play?" asked Phil, doubtfully, for he feared that anunpracticed player might injure the instrument.

  "Yes, I can play. I've got a fiddle at home myself."

  Our hero surrendered his fiddle to the young man, who played passably.

  "You've got a pretty good fiddle," he said. "I think it's better thanmine. Can you play any dancing tunes?"

  Phil knew one or two, and played them.

  "If you were not going back to Newark, I should like to have you playwith me this evening. I don't have anybody to practice with."

  "I would not know where to sleep," said Phil, hesitatingly.

  "Oh, we've got beds enough in our house. Will you stay?"

  Phil reflected that he had no place to sleep in Newark except such as hemight hire, and decided to accept the offer of his new friend.

  "This is my night off from the store," he said. "I haven't got to comeback after supper. Just stay around here till six o'clock. Then I'lltake you home and give you some supper, and then we'll play thisevening."

  Phil had no objection to this arrangement. In fact, it promised to be anagreeable one for him. As he was sure of a supper, a bed and breakfast,there was no particular necessity for him to earn anything morethat day. However, he went out for an hour or two, and succeeded incollecting twenty-five cents. He realized, however, that it was not soeasy to pick up pennies in the country as in the city--partly becausepopulation is sparser and partly because, though there is less privationin the country, there is also less money.

  A little before six Phil's new friend, whose name he ascertained wasEdwin Grover, washed his hands, and, putting on his coat, said "Comealong, Phil."

  Phil, who had been sitting near the stove, prepared to accompany him.

  "We haven't got far to go," said Edwin, who was eighteen. "I am glad ofthat, for the sooner I get to the supper table the better."

  After five minutes' walk they stopped at a comfortable two-story housenear the roadside.

  "That's where I put up," said Edwin.

  He opened the door and entered, followed by Phil, who felt a littlebashful, knowing that he was not expected.

  "Have you got an extra plate, mother?" asked Edwin. "This is a professorof the violin, who is going to help me make some music this evening."

  "He is welcome," said Mrs. Grover, cheerfully, "We can make room forhim. He is an Italian, I suppose. What is your name?"

  "Filippo."

  "I will call you Philip. I suppose that is the English name. Will youlay down your violin and draw up to the fire?"

  "I am not cold," said Phil.

  "He is not cold, he is hungry, as Ollendorf says," said Edwin, who hadwritten a few French exercises according to Ollendorf's system. "Issupper almost ready?"

  "It will be ready at once. There is your father coming in at the frontgate, and Henry with him."

  Mr. Grover entered, and Phil made the acquaintance of the rest of thefamily. He soon came to feel that he was a welcome guest, and sharedin the family supper, which was well cooked and palatable. Then Edwinbrought out his fiddle, and the two played various tunes. Phil caughtone or two new dancing tunes from his new friend, and in return taughthim an Italian air. Three or four people from a neighboring familycame in, and a little impromptu dance was got up. So the evening passedpleasantly, and at half-past ten they went to bed, Phil sleeping in alittle room adjoining that in which the brothers Edwin and Harry slept.

  After breakfast the next morning Phil left the house, with a cordialinvitation to call again when he happened to be passing.

  Before proceeding with his adventures, we must go back to Pietro.

  He, as we know, failed to elicit any information from Paul likelyto guide him in his pursuit of Phil. He was disappointed. Still,he reflected that Phil had but a quarter of an hour's start ofhim--scarcely that, indeed--and if he stopped to play anywhere, he woulddoubtless easily find him. There was danger, of course, that he wouldturn off somewhere, and Pietro judged it best to inquire whether such aboy had passed.

  Seeing two boys playing in the street, he inquired: "Have you seenanything of my little brother?"

  "What does he look like?" inquired one.

  "He is not quite so large as you. He had a fiddle with him."

  "No, I haven't seen him. Have you, Dick?"

  "Yes," said the other, "there was a boy went along with a fiddle."

  This was true, but, as we know, it was not Phil.

  "Did you see where he went?" demanded Pietro, eagerly.

  "Straight ahead," was the reply.

  Lured by the delusive hope these words awakened, Pietro went on. He didnot stop to play on his organ. He was too intent on finding Phil. Atlength, at a little distance before him, he saw a figure about the sizeof Phil, playing on the violin. He hurried forward elated, but whenwithin a few yards he discovered to his disappointment that it was notPhil, but a little fiddler of about his size. He was in the employ of adifferent padrone. He was doubtless the one the boy had seen.

  Disappointed, Pietro now turned back, and bent his steps to the ferry.But he saw nothing of Phil on the way.

  "I would like to beat him, the little wretch!" he said to himself,angrily. "If I had not been too late for the boat, I would have easilycaught him."

  It never occurred to Pietro that Phil might have taken the cars for amore distant point, as he actually did. The only thing he could thinkof, for he was not willing to give up the pursuit, was to go back. Heremained in Jersey City all day, wandering about the streets, peeringhere and there; but he did not find Phil, for a very good reason.

  The pa
drone awaited his report at night with some impatience. Phil wasone of the smartest boys he had, and he had no mind to lose him.

  "Did you find him, Pietro?" he asked as soon as his nephew entered hispresence.

  "I saw him," said Pietro.

  "Then why did you not bring him back?"

  Pietro explained the reason. His uncle listened attentively.

  "Pietro, you are a fool," he said, at length.

  "Why am I a fool?" asked Pietro, sullenly.

  "Because you sought Filippo where he is not."

  "Where is he?"

  "He did not stop in Jersey City. He went farther. He knew that you wereon his track. Did you ask at the station if such a boy bought a ticket?"

  "I did not think of it."

  "Then you were a fool."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "To-morrow you must go to Newark. That is the first large town. I musthave Filippo back."

  "I will go," said Pietro, briefly.

  He was mortified at the name applied to him by his uncle, as well as bythe fact of Phil's having thus far outwitted him. He secretly determinedthat when he did get him into his power he would revenge himself for allthe trouble to which he had been put, and there was little doubt that hewould keep his word.