It was unpromising. Evidently all the family
but the young man were away for the summer, and the doors and
windows were all boarded up. There was not a bell to ring. I
pounded on the boards that covered the door, but it was
unavailing. The young woman called to me that the young man lived
in the front room of the topmost floor, and could not hear me,
and I glanced up and saw that one window alone of all those in
the house was not boarded up. Instantly I hopped upon the seat
beside the driver and said, "Central Park."
We dashed up Fifth Avenue and into the Park at full speed, and
when we were what I considered far enough in I ordered him to
stop, and hurrying up a low bank I began to grope among the
leaves of last year under the trees. I was right. In a few
minutes I had filled my pockets with acorns, was back in the car,
and we were hurrying toward the house of the lover, when I saw
standing on a corner a figure I instantly recognized as Lemuel,
the elevator boy, and at the same time I remembered that Lemuel
spent his holidays pitching for a ball nine, He was just the man
I needed, and I stopped and made him get into the car.
Pages:
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79