JOE THE HOTEL BOY
OR
WINNING OUT BY PLUCK
BY HORATIO ALGER, JR.
JOE THE HOTEL BOY.
CONTENTS.
I. OUT IN A STORM
II. A MYSTERIOUS CONVERSATION
III. A HOME IN RUINS
IV. THE SEARCH FOR THE BLUE BOX
V. A NEW SUIT OF CLOTHES
VI. AN ACCIDENT ON THE LAKE
VII. BLOWS AND KIND DEEDS
VIII. THE TIMID MR. GUSSING
IX. AN UNFORTUNATE OUTING
X. DAVID BALL FROM MONTANA
XI. A FRUITLESS CHASE
XII. THE PARTICULARS OF A SWINDLE
XIII. OFF FOR THE CITY
XIV. A SCENE ON THE TRAIN
XV. WHAT HAPPENED TO JOSIAH BEAN
XVI. A MATTER OF SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS
XVII. JOE'S NEW POSITION
XVIII. JOE SHOWS HIS MUSCLE
XIX. ONE KIND OF A DUEL
XX. ATTACKED IN THE DARK
XXI. DAYS AT THE HOTEL
XXII. ABOUT SOME MINING SHARES
XXIII. THE FIRE AT THE HOTEL
XXIV. THE BLUE BOX AT LAST
XXV. JOE VISITS CHICAGO
XXVI. HOW A SATCHEL DISAPPEARED
XXVII. JOE MAKES A DISCOVERY
XXVIII. FROM OUT OF A TREE
XXIX. THE FATE OF TWO EVILDOERS
XXX. CONCLUSION
PREFACE.
A number of years ago the author of this story set out to depict
life among the boys of a great city, and especially among those
who had to make their own way in the world. Among those already
described are the ways of newsboys, match boys, peddlers, street
musicians, and many others.
In the present tale are related the adventures of a country lad
who, after living for some time with a strange hermit, goes forth
into the world and finds work, first in a summer hotel and then
in a large hotel in the city. Joe finds his road no easy one to
travel, and he has to face not a few hardships, but in the end
all turns out well.
It may be added here that many of the happenings told of in this
story, odd as they may seem, are taken from life. Truth is
indeed stranger than fiction, and life itself is full of romance
from start to finish.
If there is a moral to be drawn from this story, it is a twofold
one, namely, that honesty is always the best policy, and that if
one wishes to succeed in life he must stick at his work steadily
and watch every opportunity for advancement.
JOE THE HOTEL BOY.
CHAPTER I.
OUT IN A STORM.
"What do you think of this storm, Joe?"
"I think it is going to be a heavy one, Ned. I wish we were back
home," replied Joe Bodley, as he looked at the heavy clouds which
overhung Lake Tandy.
"Do you think we'll catch much rain before we get back?" And
Ned, who was the son of a rich man and well dressed, looked at
the new suit of clothes that he wore.
"I'm afraid we shall, Ned. Those black clouds back of Mount Sam
mean something."
"If this new suit gets soaked it will be ruined," grumbled Ned,
and gave a sigh.
"I am sorry for the suit, Ned; but I didn't think it was going to
rain when we started."
"Oh, I am not blaming you, Joe. It looked clear enough this
morning. Can't we get to some sort of shelter before the rain
reaches us?"
"We can try."
"Which is the nearest shelter?"
Joe Bodley mused for a moment.
"The nearest that I know of is over at yonder point, Ned. It's
an old hunting lodge that used to belong to the Cameron family.
It has been deserted for several years."
"Then let us row for that place, and be quick about it," said Ned
Talmadge. "I am not going to get wet if I can help it."
As he spoke he took up a pair of oars lying in the big rowboat he
and Joe Bodley occupied. Joe was already rowing and the rich boy
joined in, and the craft was headed for the spot Joe had pointed
out.
The lake was one located in the central part of the State of
Pennsylvania. It was perhaps a mile wide and more than that
long, and surrounded by mountains and long ranges of hills. At
the lower end of the lake was a small settlement of scant
importance and at the upper end, where there was a stream of no
mean size, was the town of Riverside. At Riverside were situated
several summer hotels and boarding houses, and also the elegant
mansion in which Ned Talmadge resided, with his parents and his
four sisters.
Joe Bodley was as poor as Ned Talmadge was rich, yet the two lads
were quite friendly. Joe knew a good deal about hunting and
fishing, and also knew all about handling boats. They frequently
went out together, and Ned insisted upon paying the poorer boy
for all extra services.
Joe's home was located on the side of the mountain which was just
now wrapped in such dark and ominous looking clouds. He lived
with Hiram Bodley, an old man who was a hermit. The home
consisted of a cabin of two rooms, scantily furnished. Hiram
Bodley had been a hunter and guide, but of late years rheumatism
had kept him from doing work and Joe was largely the support of
the pair,--taking out pleasure parties for pay whenever he could,
and fishing and hunting in the between times, and using or
selling what was gained thereby.
There was a good deal of a mystery surrounding Joe's parentage.
It was claimed that he was a nephew of Hiram Bodley, and that,
after the death of his mother and sisters, his father had drifted
out to California and then to Australia. What the real truth
concerning him was we shall learn later.
Joe was a boy of twelve, but constant life in the open air had
made him tall and strong and he looked to be several years older.
He had dark eyes and hair, and was much tanned by the sun.
The rowboat had been out a good distance on the lake and a minute
before the shore was gained the large drops of rain began to
fall.
"We are going to get wet after all!" cried Ned, chagrined.
"Pull for all you are worth and we'll soon be under the trees,"
answered Joe.
They bent to the oars, and a dozen more strokes sent the rowboat
under a clump of pines growing close to the edge of the lake.
Just as the boat struck the bank and Ned leaped out there came a
great downpour which made the surface of Lake Tandy fairly
sizzle.
"Run to the lodge, Ned; I'll look after the boat!" shouted Joe.
"But you'll get wet."
"Never mind; run, I tell you!"
Thus admonished, Ned ran for the old hunting lodge, which was
situated about two hundred feet away. Joe remained behind long
enough to secure the rowboat and the oars and then he followed
his friend.
Just as one porch of the old lodge was reached there came a flash
of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder that made Ned jump.
Then followed more thunder and lightning, and the rain came down
steadily.
"Ugh! I must say I don't like this at all," remarked Ned, as he
crouched in a corner of the shelter. "I hope the lightning
doesn't strike this place."
"We can be thankful that we were not caught out in the middle of
the lake, Ned."
"I agree on that, Joe,--but it doesn't help matters much. Oh,
dear me!" And Ned shrank down, as another blinding flash of
lightning lit up the scene.
It was not a comfortable situation and Joe did not like it any
more than did his friend. But the hermit's boy was accustomed to
being out in the elements, and therefore was not so impressed by
what was taking place.
"The rain will fill the boat," said Ned, presently.