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The mud became almost unfathomable and it was not uncommon to see the six mules attached to an army wagon tugging and striving with all their power to drag the empty wagon out of a mud hole. Boys who had plied the trade of bootblack gave up their profession and with pail and sponge in hand called to the passer by, "Wash your boots, sir?"
But he was too late. Our hero was already on his way to New York. "So this is New York," said Frank to himself, as he emerged from the railway station and looked about him with interest and curiosity. "Black yer boots? Shine?" asked a bootblack, seeing our hero standing still. Frank looked at his shoes.
A dapper young clerk, however, who sat opposite Tom, seemed quite disturbed by the presence of the bootblack. As his eye rested on Tom he sniffed contemptuously, and frowned. In truth, our friend Tom might be useful, but in his present apparel he was not fitted to grace a drawing-room. He had no coat, his vest was ragged, and his shirt soiled with spots of blacking.
"Don't be anxious, mother; I am sure we can get along." "But I am not willing that the whole burden of supporting the family should come upon you. Besides, you are not sure how long you can retain your present employment." "I know that, mother; but something else will be sure to turn up. If I can't do anything else, I can turn bootblack, though I would prefer something else.
The young man slowly turned from the door, and fixing his eyes upon his father, advanced toward him with a kind of imperious insolence. "I should like to understand my position in this house," said he, with forced calmness. "Good God! Sir, a bootblack, if I choose!" returned his father, fiercely. "The unluckiest day of my life was when you came in here, Sir.
If they're not after your fifty dollars, you'll know what it means." "It may be all right, after all," said Ben, who did not like to give up hope. "I may be General Grant," retorted the bootblack, "but if I know myself I ain't." "Well, I'll go round and talk with them. Where can I meet you afterwards?" "I'll be standin' here, if you ain't gone too long." "What's your name?" "Tom Cooper."
Denver, upon the following day, saw the little bootblack again at his corner, with his trade not lost; but near him stood a tall, singular man, with hazel eyes and a sulky expression. And citizens during that week noticed, as a new sight in the streets, the tall man and the little boy walking together. Sometimes they would be in shops.
He wore corduroy riding-breeches, cavalry boots that betrayed their age in spite of a late polishing at the hands of an energetic and carefully directed bootblack, and a broad leather belt from which only half an eye was required to see that a holster had been detached with a becoming regard for neatness.
But a week or two passed without his receiving so much as a glance from those cold blue eyes that rested so critically on all before them; and on an unlucky day in March all hope of help from her vanished. Under the influence of spring the streets were again becoming muddy, and his duties as bootblack increased daily.
Its steady light fell upon his rising passion now, and his fury broke as the swelling surf breaks upon the beacon rock into foam and spray. "It is a sort of mix up, I must say," he answered. "But I'm out of the bootblack business for good and all; so what are you going to do about it?" "Cut the whole lot," said Dud, "just as soon as I can get money enough to do it."
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