IN THE STREET AGAINTHE POLICE STATIONVISITS THE NEWSPAPER OFFICE, AND IS KINDLY RECEIVED BY THE EDITOR.

All day long Archie washed dishes, and before night came he decided that he had never before had such discouraging work. The restaurant was a popular one, and there were very many dishes to be washed, to say nothing of the pots and pans which were always dirty. Archie no sooner finished one sink full of dishes than another large pile was waiting to be put through the same operation, and there was no time at all for looking about him. There was hardly time for eating, even, and at noon he was only able to snatch a few mouthfuls. The work was not interesting, and it was a new sort of labour to Archie, so that altogether he did not get on as well as he might have wished. The cook was constantly nagging him, and telling him to hurry up, and the poor lad tried his best to please him. But somehow everything went wrong, and he was hardly surprised when the proprietor came in at six o’clock with a new man for the place. “Come around in the morning,” he said to Archie, “and I’ll pay your day’s wages.”

So the boy was in the street once more, with no money, and no place to sleep. He wasn’t hungry, that was one thing, for he had been allowed to eat a good meal before leaving the restaurant. But where was he to sleep, and what was he to do on the morrow, when he would surely be hungry? His experience at looking for work had not been encouraging, and he began to have serious doubts as to whether he would ever get a place. Certainly he would starve if he waited around New York long without anything to do.

It was quite dark at seven o’clock, and Archie walked over to the brilliantly lighted street which ran north and south through the city. He had never failed to find something interesting to look at there, and he felt now that he would like to see the bright side of city life, even if he couldn’t enjoy it himself. So all the evening he walked up and down the street, watching the well-dressed crowds hurrying into the theatres and the other almost innumerable places of amusement. He stared in open-mouthed amazement at some of the costumes of the women he saw alighting from carriages. Never before had he seen anything half so beautiful, and if any one had told him that there were such dresses he would have told them he didn’t believe it. Some of them, he thought, must cost hundreds of dollars, and the jewels worn with them many hundreds more. How interesting, how new, it all was to him! Once he thought of the little home in the village, and at first wished that his mother might be there to enjoy the sights with him. “But I wouldn’t want her to see me,” he thought, “not while I am so miserable, and feeling so discouraged.” For Archie was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t made a mistake in leaving home, whether he had not been overconfident and hot-headed. But he decided to try it a few days more, that is, if he could manage to live for that length of time in the city.

At twelve o’clock he was walking up and down the street, which was still bright with millions of lights, though the crowds had gone home from the theatres, and the restaurants were beginning to be less popular. He was still wondering how he was going to find a place to sleep, when he was accosted by a policeman, and taken into a doorway. “I’ve been watching you,” said the officer, “and I want to know why you are walking up and down the street at this time of night.”

Archie could have cried from fright, but he remembered that he was under suspicion, so decided to tell the policeman his whole story, and perhaps he could help him out in some way. So he described his experiences during the day, and was surprised at the interest shown by the officer in the recital. When he had finished he was told that he would be taken to the police station. “You needn’t be afraid, my lad,” said the policeman. “I’ll see that the Gerry Society doesn’t get you and send you home, that is, if you think you want to try it here a few days longer. You can sleep at the station to-night, and the next morning you can try it again.” So to the station they went, and Archie was, naturally, a little frightened when he saw, for the first time, the cells, and the terribly severe appearance of all his surroundings. But he was given a good bed in which to sleep, and he passed a delightful night, dreaming of the wonderful adventures which befell him in the city.

He was not awakened until eight o’clock, and then he found the good policeman waiting to take him out to breakfast, He expressed surprise that he should be so kind to him.

“I always thought that officers were cross and unpleasant,” he said, “but you’re not that kind, anyhow.”

“Well,” laughed the officer, “we have to be cross very often, though we’re sometimes sorry to be so. But I’ve taken a fancy to you, my lad. I like to see a boy who does things. When a boy of seventeen is willing to come to New York alone, and make his own way, without friends or influence of any kind, it shows a proper spirit, and he ought to succeed. I know you’ll get along if you only persevere. I’d advise you to keep on trying.”

“Oh, I’m going to, now,” said Archie. “I was very homesick and discouraged last night, but since I’ve met you I seem to have received a new impetus, and I’m ready to make a new beginning.”

So Archie and the policeman parted friends.

“Come around to the station to-night if you want a bed, and you shall be cared for,” said the officer, as he turned around the corner into the busy street, where he was lost in the crowd.

Archie walked down the street, hardly knowing what to do first. He didn’t feel like answering any more advertisements in the newspapers, and he decided to go into a few stores and ask for work. He was about to do this when he saw before him the magnificent building of the New York Enterprise. It was a truly beautiful structure, rising fifteen stories above the ground, and surmounted with an artistic tower, which could be seen from almost any part of the city. The home of the city’s greatest daily, it looked as if it were always welcoming strangers to the metropolis, and Archie felt an irresistible impulse to enter. Everything connected with a newspaper had for him the greatest fascination, and he knew he would enjoy seeing through this wonderful building, which was almost wholly occupied by the departments of the Enterprise. So he entered the door, and passed from one floor to another, finally arriving at the highest floor of all, where were located the editorial rooms of the Evening Enterprise. All at once a new plan entered Archie’s fertile brain. Why shouldn’t he be able to get something to do on a newspaper? It had always been his greatest ambition to become a reporter, and here, although he didn’t think the editor would take him in that capacity, he thought he might get some sort of work in which he could work himself up.

There upon the door were the magic words: “Editor of the Evening enterprise. No Admittance.” Archie opened the door and entered. He knew it would be useless to send in his name. It was best to see the editor at once, and without ceremony. He was seated before a large desk, which was littered with papers of every description, and he was a very pleasant person in appearance. Archie stood hesitating near the door, and remained there a minute or two before the editor looked up.

“Well, my boy, what is it?”

Archie took courage.

“II want to be a reporter, sir, and I thought it would do no harm to ask you for such a position, anyhow.”

The distinguished journalist wheeled about in his chair.

“What!” he exclaimed, “you want to be a reporter. Why, my dear boy, how old are you?”

“I’ll be eighteen my next birthday,” said Archie, “and, sir, I’ve had some experiences in the last two weeks, which make me feel as if I were about five years older than I really am. I’ve been through some very trying experiences, sir.”

The editor was interested at once. “Tell me what your experiences have been,” he said, and Archie began, and told him his whole story; how he had left home to win fame and fortune, and how he had worked on the farm for a week with Farmer Tinch; how he had been robbed the night he stayed with the tramps in the ancient ruins, and how he had finally reached the city. Then he told him of the night in the lodging-house, of his dish-washing experience in the restaurant, and how he had been taken from the street by a policeman the night before, and allowed to sleep in the station-house. When he had finished the editor had a broad grin upon his face.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, “this is certainly rich stuff. There’s a good story in it, I’ll be bound.”

Then, speaking to Archie, he said:

“Just wait here a minute, my boy, and I’ll see if we can’t put some money in your way.”

He pressed a button at the side of his desk, and when a boy appeared, he told him to bring “Mr. Jones, please, or one of the other reporters. And tell Jones to bring an artist with him.”

The reporter and the artist soon stood before the editor, who told them, with great glee, that he had a leading feature for the next evening edition of the Enterprise. “Just talk to this boy, Jones, and see if you can’t make two good columns on the front page and two for the inside from his story. I think it’s great, myself. And you Cash,” he said, turning to the artist, “you make a good sketch of the boy.”

Archie could hardly believe his eyes and ears. Just to think that he was being interviewed, and that his picture was to be in the paper. It seemed almost too good to be true.

When the reporter had finished with him, he was taken down-stairs to the cashier’s office and given thirty dollars in bills. “This will pay you for the interview,” said the editor, “and give you enough to fix up with. Now, to-morrow, you come in again, and I think I can give you steady employment.”

Oh, how happy Archie was! He went out into the street, and seemed to fairly walk on air. Then he heard the newsboys crying, “Extra paper, read about the Enterprise’s Boy Reporter.” And when Archie saw the paper, there on the front page was his picture, together with the story of his “startling adventures.”