Hiram could not stay in his room. It was a narrow, cold place at the end of the back hall at the top of the house. There was a little, painted bureau in it, one leg of which had been replaced by a brick, and the little glass was so blue and blurred that he never could see in it whether his tie was straight or not.
There was a chair, a shelf for books, and a narrow folding bed. When the bed was dropped down for his occupancy at night, he could not get the door open. Had there ever been a fire at Atterson's at night, Hiram's best chance for escape would have been by the window.
So this evening, to kill the miserable stretch of time until sleep should come to him, the boy went out and walked the streets.
Two things had saved Hiram Strong from getting into bad company on these evening rambles. One was the small amount of money he earned, and the other was the naturally clean nature of the boy. The cheap amusements which lured on either hand did not attract him.
But the dangers are there in every city, and they lurk for every boy in a like position.
The main thoroughfare in this part of the town where Hiram boarded was brightly lighted, gaudy electric signs attracting notice to cheap pictureshows, catch-penny arcades, cheap jewelry stores, and the ever present saloons and pool rooms.
It looked bright, and warm, and lively in many of these places; but the country-bred boy was cautious.
Now and then a raucous-voiced automobile shot along the street; the electric cars made their usual clangor, and there was still some ordinary traffic of the day dribbling away into the side streets, for it was early in the evening.
Hiram was about to turn into one of these side streets on his way back to Mrs. Atterson's. Turning the corner was a handsome span of horses attached to a comfortable but mud-bespattered carriage. It was plainly from the country.
The light at the corner of the street shone brightly into the carriage. Hiram saw a well-built man in a gray greatcoat and slouch hat, holding the reins over the backs of the spirited horses.
Beside him sat a girl. She could have been no more than twelve or fourteen--not so old as Sister, by a year or two. But how different she was from the starved-looking, boarding house slavey!
She was framed in furs--rich, gray and black furs that muffled her from top to toe, only leaving her brilliant, dark little face with its perfect features shining like a jewel in its setting.
She was talking laughingly to the big man beside her, and he was looking down at her. Perhaps this was why he did not see what lay just ahead--or perhaps the glare of the street light blinded him, as it must have the horses, as the equipage turned into the darker side street.
But Hiram saw their peril. He sprang into the street with a cry of warning. And he was lucky enough to seize the nigh horse by the bridle and pull both the high-steppers around.
There was an excavation--an opening for a water-main--in this street. The workmen had either neglected to leave a red lantern, or malicious boys had stolen it.
Another moment and the horses would have been in this excavation and even now the carriage swayed. One forward wheel went over the edge of the hole, and for the minute it was doubtful whether Hiram had savedthe occupants of the carriage by his quick action, or had accelerated the catastrophe.
