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Understanding Computation

Tom Stuart

Beijing • Cambridge • Farnham • Köln • Sebastopol • Tokyo

Understanding Computation
by Tom Stuart

Copyright © 2013 Tom Stuart. All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America.

Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc., 1005 Gravenstein Highway North, Sebastopol, CA 95472.

O’Reilly books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. Online editions
are also available for most titles (http://my.safaribooksonline.com). For more information, contact our
corporate/institutional sales department: 800-998-9938 or corporate@oreilly.com.

Editors: Mike Loukides and Nathan Jepson Indexer: Lucie Haskins

Production Editor: Christopher Hearse Cover Designer: Randy Comer
Copyeditor: Rachel Leach Interior Designer: David Futato
Proofreader: Linley Dolby Illustrator: Rebecca Demarest

May 2013: First Edition.

Revision History for the First Edition:

2013-05-10 First release
2013-05-31 Second release
See http://oreilly.com/catalog/errata.csp?isbn=9781449329273 for release details.

Nutshell Handbook, the Nutshell Handbook logo, and the O’Reilly logo are registered trademarks of
O’Reilly Media, Inc. Understanding Computation, the image of a bear paw clam, and related trade dress
are trademarks of O’Reilly Media, Inc.
Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products are claimed as
trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book, and O’Reilly Media, Inc., was aware of a
trademark claim, the designations have been printed in caps or initial caps.

While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and authors assume
no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information con-
tained herein.

ISBN: 978-1-449-32927-3

[LSI]

1369775863
 Table of Contents

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii

1. Just Enough Ruby . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

Interactive Ruby Shell 1
Values 2
Basic Data 2
Data Structures 3
Procs 3
Control Flow 4
Objects and Methods 5
Classes and Modules 6
Miscellaneous Features 7
Local Variables and Assignment 7
String Interpolation 8
Inspecting Objects 8
Printing Strings 8
Variadic Methods 9
Blocks 9
Enumerable 10
Struct 11
Monkey Patching 12
Defining Constants 13
Removing Constants 13

Part I. Programs and Machines

2. The Meaning of Programs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17

The Meaning of “Meaning” 18
Syntax 19
Operational Semantics 20
Small-Step Semantics 21

iii
 Big-Step Semantics 42
Denotational Semantics 48
Expressions 49
Statements 52
Applications 54
Formal Semantics in Practice 55
Formality 55
Finding Meaning 56
Alternatives 57
Implementing Parsers 58

3. The Simplest Computers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63

Deterministic Finite Automata 63
States, Rules, and Input 63
Output 64
Determinism 66
Simulation 66
Nondeterministic Finite Automata 69
Nondeterminism 70
Free Moves 76
Regular Expressions 79
Syntax 80
Semantics 83
Parsing 92
Equivalence 94

4. Just Add Power . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105

Deterministic Pushdown Automata 108
Storage 108
Rules 110
Determinism 111
Simulation 112
Nondeterministic Pushdown Automata 118
Simulation 122
Nonequivalence 125
Parsing with Pushdown Automata 125
Lexical Analysis 126
Syntactic Analysis 128
Practicalities 132
How Much Power? 133

5. The Ultimate Machine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135

Deterministic Turing Machines 135

iv | Table of Contents
 Storage 136
Rules 138
Determinism 141
Simulation 141
Nondeterministic Turing Machines 147
Maximum Power 148
Internal Storage 148
Subroutines 151
Multiple Tapes 153
Multidimensional Tape 154
General-Purpose Machines 154
Encoding 156
Simulation 157

Part II. Computation and Computability

6. Programming with Nothing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161

Impersonating the Lambda Calculus 162
Working with Procs 163
The Problem 164
Numbers 166
Booleans 169
Predicates 172
Pairs 173
Numeric Operations 174
Lists 180
Strings 184
The Solution 186
Advanced Programming Techniques 191
Implementing the Lambda Calculus 197
Syntax 197
Semantics 199
Parsing 204

7. Universality Is Everywhere . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207

Lambda Calculus 207
Partial Recursive Functions 210
SKI Combinator Calculus 215
Iota 224
Tag Systems 227
Cyclic Tag Systems 235
Conway’s Game of Life 245

Table of Contents | v
 Rule 110 247
Wolfram’s 2,3 Turing Machine 251

8. Impossible Programs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253

The Facts of Life 254
Universal Systems Can Perform Algorithms 254
Programs Can Stand In for Turing Machines 257
Code Is Data 258
Universal Systems Can Loop Forever 259
Programs Can Refer to Themselves 264
Decidability 269
The Halting Problem 271
Building a Halting Checker 271
It’ll Never Work 274
Other Undecidable Problems 277
Depressing Implications 280
Why Does This Happen? 282
Coping with Uncomputability 283

9. Programming in Toyland . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 285

Abstract Interpretation 286
Route Planning 286
Abstraction: Multiplying Signs 287
Safety and Approximation: Adding Signs 290
Static Semantics 295
Implementation 296
Benefits and Limitations 303
Applications 305

Afterword . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 307

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309

vi | Table of Contents
 Preface

Who Should Read This Book?

This book is for programmers who are curious about programming languages and the
theory of computation, especially those who don’t have a formal background in math-
ematics or computer science.
If you’re interested in the mind-expanding parts of computer science that deal with
programs, languages, and machines, but are discouraged by the mathematical language
that’s often used to explain them, this book is for you. Instead of complex notation
we’ll use working code to illustrate theoretical ideas and turn them into interactive
experiments that you can explore at your own pace.
This book assumes that you know at least one modern programming language like
Ruby, Python, JavaScript, Java, or C#. All of the code examples are in Ruby, but if you
know another language you should still be able to follow along. However, this book
isn’t a guide to best practices in Ruby or object-oriented design. The code is intended
to be clear and concise, but not necessarily to be easy to maintain; the goal is always
to use Ruby to illustrate the computer science, not vice versa. It’s also not a textbook
or an encyclopedia, so instead of presenting formal arguments or watertight proofs,
this book tries to break the ice on some interesting ideas and inspire you to learn about
them in more depth.

Conventions Used in This Book

The following typographical conventions are used in this book:
Italic
Indicates new terms, URLs, email addresses, filenames, and file extensions.
Constant width
Used for program listings, as well as within paragraphs to refer to program elements
such as variable or function names, databases, data types, environment variables,
statements, and keywords.

vii
Constant width bold
Shows commands or other text that should be typed literally by the user.
Constant width italic
Shows text that should be replaced with user-supplied values or by values deter-
mined by context.

This icon signifies a tip, suggestion, or general note.

This icon indicates a warning or caution.

Using Code Examples

This book is here to help you get your job done. In general, if this book includes code
examples, you may use the code in your programs and documentation. You do not
need to contact us for permission unless you’re reproducing a significant portion of the
code. For example, writing a program that uses several chunks of code from this book
does not require permission. Selling or distributing a CD-ROM of examples from
O’Reilly books does require permission. Answering a question by citing this book and
quoting example code does not require permission. Incorporating a significant amount
of example code from this book into your product’s documentation does require per-
mission.
We appreciate, but do not require, attribution. An attribution usually includes the title,
author, publisher, and ISBN. For example: “Understanding Computation by Tom Stuart
(O’Reilly). Copyright 2013 Tom Stuart, 978-1-4493-2927-3.”
If you feel your use of code examples falls outside fair use or the permission given above,
feel free to contact us at permissions@oreilly.com.

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viii | Preface
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Acknowledgments
I’m grateful for the hospitality of Go Free Range, who provided me with office space,
friendly conversation, and tea throughout the writing of this book. Without their gen-
erous support, I’d definitely have gone a bit Jack Torrance.
Thank you to James Adam, Paul Battley, James Coglan, Peter Fletcher, Chris Lowis,
and Murray Steele for their feedback on early drafts, and to Gabriel Kerneis and Alex
Stangl for their technical reviews. This book has been immeasurably improved by their
thoughtful contributions. I’d also like to thank Alan Mycroft from the University of
Cambridge for all the knowledge and encouragement he supplied.

Preface | ix
Many people from O’Reilly helped shepherd this project to completion, but I’m espe-
cially grateful to Mike Loukides and Simon St.Laurent for their early enthusiasm and
faith in the idea, to Nathan Jepson for his advice on how to turn the idea into an actual
book, and to Sanders Kleinfeld for humoring my relentless quest for perfect syntax
highlighting.
Thank you to my parents for giving an annoying child the means, motive, and oppor-
tunity to spend all his time mucking about with computers; and to Leila, for patiently
reminding me, every time I forgot how the job should be done, to keep putting one
damn word after another. I got there in the end.

x | Preface
 CHAPTER 1
Just Enough Ruby

The code in this book is written in Ruby, a programming language that was designed
to be simple, friendly, and fun. I’ve chosen it because of its clarity and flexibility, but
nothing in the book relies on special features of Ruby, so you should be able to translate
the code examples into whatever language you prefer—especially another dynamic
language like Python or JavaScript—if that helps to make the ideas clearer.
All of the example code is compatible with both Ruby 2.0 and Ruby 1.9. You can find
out more about Ruby, and download an official implementation, at the official Ruby
website.
Let’s take a quick tour of Ruby’s features. We’ll concentrate on the parts of the language
that are used in this book; if you want to learn more, O’Reilly’s The Ruby Programming
Language is a good place to start.

If you already know Ruby, you can safely skip to Chapter 2 without
missing anything.

Interactive Ruby Shell

One of Ruby’s friendliest features is its interactive console, IRB, which lets us enter
pieces of Ruby code and immediately see the results. In this book, we’ll use IRB ex-
tensively to interact with the code we’re writing and explore how it works.
You can run IRB on your development machine by typing irb at the command line.
IRB shows a >> prompt when it expects you to provide a Ruby expression. After you
type an expression and hit Enter, the code gets evaluated, and the result is shown at a
=> prompt:
$ irb --simple-prompt
>> 1 + 2
=> 3

1
 >> 'hello world'.length
=> 11

Whenever we see these >> and => prompts in the book, we’re interacting with IRB. To
make longer code listings easier to read, they’ll be shown without the prompts, but
we’ll still assume that the code in these listings has been typed or pasted into IRB. So
once the book has shown some Ruby code like this…
x = 2
y = 3
z = x + y

…then we’ll be able to play with its results in IRB:

>> x * y * z
=> 30

Values
Ruby is an expression-oriented language: every valid piece of code produces a value
when it’s executed. Here’s a quick overview of the different kinds of Ruby value.

Basic Data
As we’d expect, Ruby supports Booleans, numbers, and strings, all of which come with
the usual operations:
>> (true && false) || true
=> true
>> (3 + 3) * (14 / 2)
=> 42
>> 'hello' + ' world'
=> "hello world"
>> 'hello world'.slice(6)
=> "w"

A Ruby symbol is a lightweight, immutable value representing a name. Symbols are

widely used in Ruby as simpler and less memory-intensive alternatives to strings, most
often as keys in hashes (see “Data Structures” on page 3). Symbol literals are written
with a colon at the beginning:
>> :my_symbol
=> :my_symbol
>> :my_symbol == :my_symbol
=> true
>> :my_symbol == :another_symbol
=> false

The special value nil is used to indicate the absence of any useful value:
>> 'hello world'.slice(11)
=> nil

2 | Chapter 1: Just Enough Ruby

Data Structures
Ruby array literals are written as a comma-separated list of values surrounded by square
brackets:
>> numbers = ['zero', 'one', 'two']
=> ["zero", "one", "two"]
>> numbers[1]
=> "one"
>> numbers.push('three', 'four')
=> ["zero", "one", "two", "three", "four"]
>> numbers
=> ["zero", "one", "two", "three", "four"]
>> numbers.drop(2)
=> ["two", "three", "four"]

A range represents a collection of values between a minimum and a maximum. Ranges

are written by putting a pair of dots between two values:
>> ages = 18..30
=> 18..30
>> ages.entries
=> [18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30]
>> ages.include?(25)
=> true
>> ages.include?(33)
=> false

A hash is a collection in which every value is associated with a key; some programming
languages call this data structure a “map,” “dictionary,” or “associative array.” A hash
literal is written as a comma-separated list of key => value pairs inside curly brackets:
>> fruit = { 'a' => 'apple', 'b' => 'banana', 'c' => 'coconut' }
=> {"a"=>"apple", "b"=>"banana", "c"=>"coconut"}
>> fruit['b']
=> "banana"
>> fruit['d'] = 'date'
=> "date"
>> fruit
=> {"a"=>"apple", "b"=>"banana", "c"=>"coconut", "d"=>"date"}

Hashes often have symbols as keys, so Ruby provides an alternative key: value syntax
for writing key-value pairs where the key is a symbol. This is more compact than the
key => value syntax and looks a lot like the popular JSON format for JavaScript objects:
>> dimensions = { width: 1000, height: 2250, depth: 250 }
=> {:width=>1000, :height=>2250, :depth=>250}
>> dimensions[:depth]
=> 250

Procs
A proc is an unevaluated chunk of Ruby code that can be passed around and evaluated
on demand; other languages call this an “anonymous function” or “lambda.” There

Values | 3
are several ways of writing a proc literal, the most compact of which is the -> argu
ments { body } syntax:
>> multiply = -> x, y { x * y }
=> #<Proc (lambda)>
>> multiply.call(6, 9)
=> 54
>> multiply.call(2, 3)
=> 6

As well as the .call syntax, procs can be called by using square brackets:
>> multiply[3, 4]
=> 12

Control Flow
Ruby has if, case, and while expressions, which work in the usual way:
>> if 2 < 3
'less'
else
'more'
end
=> "less"
>> quantify =
-> number {
case number
when 1
'one'
when 2
'a couple'
else
'many'
end
}
=> #<Proc (lambda)>
>> quantify.call(2)
=> "a couple"
>> quantify.call(10)
=> "many"
>> x = 1
=> 1
>> while x < 1000
x = x * 2
end
=> nil
>> x
=> 1024

4 | Chapter 1: Just Enough Ruby

Objects and Methods
Ruby looks like other dynamic programming languages but it’s unusual in an important
way: every value is an object, and objects communicate by sending messages to each
other.1 Each object has its own collection of methods that determine how it responds
to particular messages.
A message has a name and, optionally, some arguments. When an object receives a
message, its corresponding method is executed with the arguments from the message.
This is how all work gets done in Ruby; even 1 + 2 means “send the object 1 a message
called + with the argument 2,” and the object 1 has a #+ method for handling that
message.
We can define our own methods with the def keyword:
>> o = Object.new
=> #<Object>
>> def o.add(x, y)
x + y
end
=> nil
>> o.add(2, 3)
=> 5

Here we’re making a new object by sending the new message to a special built-in object
called Object; once the new object’s been created, we define an #add method on it. The
#add method adds its two arguments together and returns the result—an explicit
return isn’t necessary, because the value of the last expression to be executed in a
method is automatically returned. When we send that object the add message with 2
and 3 as arguments, its #add method is executed and we get back the answer we wanted.
We’ll usually send a message to an object by writing the receiving object and the
message name separated by a dot (e.g., o.add), but Ruby always keeps track of the
current object (called self) and will allow us to send a message to that object by writing
a message name on its own, leaving the receiver implicit. For example, inside a method
definition the current object is always the object that received the message that caused
the method to execute, so within a particular object’s method, we can send other mes-
sages to the same object without referring to it explicitly:
>> def o.add_twice(x, y)
add(x, y) + add(x, y)
end
=> nil
>> o.add_twice(2, 3)
=> 10

1. This style comes from the Smalltalk programming language, which had a direct influence on the design
of Ruby.

Objects and Methods | 5

Notice that we can send the add message to o from within the #add_twice method by
writing add(x, y) instead of o.add(x, y), because o is the object that the add_twice
message was sent to.
Outside of any method definition, the current object is a special top-level object called
main, and any messages that don’t specify a receiver are sent to it; similarly, any method
definitions that don’t specify an object will be made available through main:
>> def multiply(a, b)
a * b
end
=> nil
>> multiply(2, 3)
=> 6

Classes and Modules

It’s convenient to be able to share method definitions between many objects. In Ruby,
we can put method definitions inside a class, then create new objects by sending the
new message to that class. The objects we get back are instances of the class and incor-
porate its methods. For example:
>> class Calculator
def divide(x, y)
x / y
end
end
=> nil
>> c = Calculator.new
=> #<Calculator>
>> c.class
=> Calculator
>> c.divide(10, 2)
=> 5

Note that defining a method inside a class definition adds the method to instances of
that class, not to main:
>> divide(10, 2)
NoMethodError: undefined method `divide' for main:Object

One class can bring in another class’s method definitions through inheritance:
>> class MultiplyingCalculator < Calculator
def multiply(x, y)
x * y
end
end
=> nil
>> mc = MultiplyingCalculator.new
=> #<MultiplyingCalculator>
>> mc.class
=> MultiplyingCalculator
>> mc.class.superclass

6 | Chapter 1: Just Enough Ruby

 => Calculator
>> mc.multiply(10, 2)
=> 20
>> mc.divide(10, 2)
=> 5

A method in a subclass can call a superclass method of the same name by using the
super keyword:
>> class BinaryMultiplyingCalculator < MultiplyingCalculator
def multiply(x, y)
result = super(x, y)
result.to_s(2)
end
end
=> nil
>> bmc = BinaryMultiplyingCalculator.new
=> #<BinaryMultiplyingCalculator>
>> bmc.multiply(10, 2)
=> "10100"

Another way of sharing method definitions is to declare them in a module, which can
then be included by any class:
>> module Addition
def add(x, y)
x + y
end
end
=> nil
>> class AddingCalculator
include Addition
end
=> AddingCalculator
>> ac = AddingCalculator.new
=> #<AddingCalculator>
>> ac.add(10, 2)
=> 12

Miscellaneous Features
Here’s a grab bag of useful Ruby features that we’ll need for the example code in this
book.

Local Variables and Assignment

As we’ve already seen, Ruby lets us declare local variables just by assigning a value to
them:
>> greeting = 'hello'
=> "hello"
>> greeting
=> "hello"

Miscellaneous Features | 7
We can also use parallel assignment to assign values to several variables at once by
breaking apart an array:
>> width, height, depth = [1000, 2250, 250]
=> [1000, 2250, 250]
>> height
=> 2250

String Interpolation
Strings can be single- or double-quoted. Ruby automatically performs interpolation on
double-quoted strings, replacing any #{expression} with its result:
>> "hello #{'dlrow'.reverse}"
=> "hello world"

If an interpolated expression returns an object that isn’t a string, that object is auto-
matically sent a to_s message and is expected to return a string that can be used in its
place. We can use this to control how interpolated objects appear:
>> o = Object.new
=> #<Object>
>> def o.to_s
'a new object'
end
=> nil
>> "here is #{o}"
=> "here is a new object"

Inspecting Objects
Something similar happens whenever IRB needs to display an object: the object is sent
the inspect message and should return a string representation of itself. All objects in
Ruby have sensible default implementations of #inspect, but by providing our own
definition, we can control how an object appears on the console:
>> o = Object.new
=> #<Object>
>> def o.inspect
'[my object]'
end
=> nil
>> o
=> [my object]

Printing Strings
The #puts method is available to every Ruby object (including main), and can be used
to print strings to standard output:
>> x = 128
=> 128

8 | Chapter 1: Just Enough Ruby

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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Julius, the Street Boy;
or, Out West
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Title: Julius, the Street Boy; or, Out West

Author: Jr. Horatio Alger

Release date: December 28, 2016 [eBook #53821]

Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JULIUS, THE

STREET BOY; OR, OUT WEST ***
JULIUS, THE STREET BOY
OR
OUT WEST
BY
HORATIO ALGER, JR.

Author of

Brave and Bold, Bound to Rise, Risen from the Ranks, Erie Train
Boy, Paul, the Peddler, Phil, the Fiddler,
Young Acrobat, Etc.

Made in U. S. A.

M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY

CHICAGO :: NEW YORK

CHAPTER I., II., III., IV., V., VI.,

VII., VIII., IX., X., XI., XII., XIII.,
XIV., XV., XVI., XVII., XVIII.,
XIX., XX., XXI., XXII., XXIII.,
XXIV., XXV., XXVI., XXVII.,
 XXVIII., XXIX., XXX.
THE PATERNOSTERS.

JULIUS, THE STREET BOY.

 CHAPTER I.

RETIRED FROM BUSINESS.

“Where are you goin’, Julius? Where’s yer blackin’ box?” asked Patrick
Riley.
“I’ve retired from business,” said Julius.
“Did yer rich uncle die, and leave yer a fortune?”
“No, but he’s goin’ up the river to Sing Sing, for the benefit of his
constitushun, and I’m goin’ West fer my health.”
“Goin’ West? You’re gassin’.”
“No, I ain’t, I’m goin’ in a few days, along of Mr. O’Connor, and a lot of
other chaps.”
“Is it far out there?” asked Pat.
“More’n a hundred miles,” said Julius, whose ideas of geography and
distances were rather vague.
“Yer don’t mean ter live out there?”
“Yes, I do, I’m goin’ on to a farm, or into a store, and grow up
respectable.”
“Won’t yer miss the city, Julius?”
“Likely I will.”
“I don’t think I’d like the country,” said Pat, reflectively. “New York’s a
bully place. There’s always something goin’ on. I say, did you hear of that
murder in Center Street last night?”
“No; what was it?”
“A feller stabbed a cop that was trottin’ him round to the station house
for bein’ tight. There’s always something to make it lively here. In the
country there ain’t no murders, nor burglaries, nor nothin’,” concluded Pat,
rather contemptuously.
“I hope there’s theayters,” said Julius, thoughtfully. “I like to go when
there’s a good lively piece.”
“Have you been to our theayter yet, Julius?”
 “Your theayter?”
“Yes, me and some of the boys have got up a theayter. We do the pieces
and actin’ ourselves.”
“Where is it?” asked Julius, with lively curiosity.
“It’s No. 17 Baxter Street, down in the basement. We call it ‘The Grand
Duke’s Oprea House.’ We don’t have to pay no rent. It’s Jim Campara’s
place, an’ he’s treasurer, so his father don’t charge nothin’.”
“How long have you been goin’, Pat?”
“Most a month. We play every night.”
“Are you doin’ well? Do you make money?”
“Tiptop. I say, Julius, yer must come to-night. It’s my benefit.”
“Do you get all the money that’s took in?”
“No, half goes for expenses. I get the rest.”
“What do you do?”
“Oh, I play nigger parts, and dance the jigs.”
“What do you charge for a ticket?”
“Five cents admission, and eight cents reserved seats.”
“That’s cheaper’n Tony Pastor’s.”
“Yes; we can’t expect to get so much as Tony, ’cause yer know we ain’t
purfessional. We’re amatoors.”
“How much do you get for your valuable services, Pat?” asked Julius,
laughing.
“I’ll tell yer the way we do. Jim Campara—he’s the treasurer—keeps all
the stamps till the end of the week, and then it is divided between us. Last
week I got three dollars.”
“You did! Well, that’s pretty good pay.”
“Well,” said Pat, “there’s some expenses. I have to pay for my
wardrobe.”
“What’s that?”
“My stage clo’es. Besides I have to practice dancin’ in the daytime. I
ain’t Pat Riley on the stage.”
“What are you, then?”
“My actin’ name is ‘Miles O’Reilly.’ ”
 “What made you change?”
“Yer see it sounds grander than Pat Riley.”
“Who acts besides you?”
“Oh, there’s Dan Conroy, Pete Connors, Teddy Sullivan, Jim McGrath,
Dick Burke, Jim Gillispie and Campara.”
“If I was goin’ to stay in the city I’d like to play too,” said Julius.
“Maybe you ain’t got a genius for it,” responded the eminent negro
comedian. “Lots of boys wants to come in, but we don’t take none if they
can’t act. There was Billy Burke wanted to come; but we tried him, an’ he
couldn’t play no more’n a stick. We want fellers that’ll draw. You come
round to-night, an’ you’ll see what we can do.”
“I guess I will. What number did you say?”
“No. 17 Baxter Street. Curtain rises at eight o’clock, prompt.”
“I’ll be there. What yer goin’ to play?”
“ ‘Laughin’ Gas’ and ‘Dick Turpin’ is the principal pieces, but the
‘Mulligan Guards’ is the best. Yer better be on time, for it’s my benefit, and
my friends will be out in crowds.”
Here’s Pat’s keen eyes detected a gentleman with soiled boots, and he
called out, “Shine yer boots, mister?”
“Yes, if you’ll be quick about it.”
“I’ll shine ’em up in half a second, sir.”
“Go ahead!”
The gentleman submitted his boots to the professional efforts of Pat,
unaware that the young bootblack was the celebrated Miles O’Reilly of the
“Grand Duke’s Oprea House.” Probably he had never visited that famous
and fashionable place of amusement, or he would have recognized the face
of one of the most brilliant stars in the galaxy of talent which nightly
appeared upon its humble stage.
Julius went on his way, being for a few days a gentleman of leisure. For
the benefit of such readers as may not be familiar with the details of his
story as told in “Slow and Sure,” it is well to record the fact that he had
been brought up by Jack Morgan, a thief and burglar, who, for the last four
years, had spent half of his time on Blackwell’s Island. When at liberty,
Julius lived with him. When he was in seclusion, Julius looked out for
himself, and, being sharp and shrewd, and accustomed to depend upon his
own exertions, managed just as well without his guardian as with him. He
had no particular reason to like Jack, who merely gave him the liberty of
earning his own living, and frequently borrowed his scanty earnings without
thinking it necessary to repay them.
Some weeks before, Jack, with a friend and confederate, Marlowe,
formed a plan for entering a house on Madison Avenue, which, they had
reason to believe, contained a considerable amount of plate. The owner was
absent in Europe and the house was left during his absence under the care
of Paul Hoffman and his mother. Paul, whose early history is recorded in
“Paul, the Peddler,” was the proprietor of a street necktie stand, near the
Astor House. He had on one occasion shown kindness to Julius, and the
latter was grateful. Learning that Jack and Marlowe proposed to enter the
house occupied by Paul, he showed his gratitude by giving the young street
merchant an intimation of their intentions. Thus, when the attempt was
made, Paul was prepared, and the two burglars walked into a trap. Jack was
caught on the spot, but Marlowe for the time escaped. Had he left the city at
once, he might have escaped wholly. But he was inflamed with bitter anger
against the boy Julius, who, as he rightly judged, had betrayed them, and he
was determined to be revenged. Following the boy to Staten Island, he
overtook him in a lonely place, and but for timely interference might have
murdered him, in which case the present volume would never have been
written.
But Julius was reserved for better things. His dangerous enemy was
arrested, and being identified as having been concerned in the Madison
Avenue robbery, was tried in due form, and sentenced to ten years’
imprisonment in Sing Sing.
I have anticipated matters a little, as at the time the present story opens
both he and Jack Morgan were temporarily confined in the Tombs, while
awaiting trial.
As for Julius, he was rewarded by a gift of fifty dollars, and, by the
advice of his new friends, determined to seek a home in the West, going out
under the auspices of the Children’s Aid Society. The company of which he
was to be one was to start in a few days. Meanwhile Julius decided to enjoy
a rest from his usual labors, having an ample supply of money to meet his
small expenses. On the whole, he was pleased with the idea of going West.
But, apart from this consideration, he felt that his life would not be safe in
the city should Jack Morgan or Marlowe succeed in breaking jail, as they
had done more than once before. The boy had good reason to apprehend
danger, for he well knew their brutal natures, and their unscrupulousness,
and that they would stop at no crime in wreaking vengeance upon him.
Once out West, however, he would be out of their reach, and it was not
likely that they would follow him out there.
 CHAPTER II.

THE “GRAND DUKE’S OPREA HOUSE.”

Some minutes before eight, Julius reached the “Grand Duke’s Oprea
House.” It is very eligibly located on Baxter Street not far from the famous
Five Points. Perhaps in consequence of the filthy condition of the streets in
the immediate neighborhood, visitors are not expected to appear in full
dress, and nothing is more common than for the young gentlemen who
patronize it to dispense with coat or vest, or both. As for kid gloves, these
are not tolerated at the Oprea House, and a fellow who indulged in them
would be regarded as “puttin’ on airs,” and probably be hustled out
unceremoniously, as guilty of a gross insult to the rest of the spectators.
The entrance to the Grand Duke theatre is not imposing. In fact, the
visitor is obliged to descend a shaky staircase into a cellar about ten feet
below the level of the sidewalk.
“It’s like goin’ down into a coal mine,” remarked Julius to Pat Riley,
who was acting as his guide.
“That’s so,” said Pat; “but we have jolly fun when we get there.”
Reaching the bottom of the flight of steps, Julius found himself
confronted by the ticket seller who was looking out of a square hole, over
which were marked the prices of admission.
“That’s where yer pay,” said Pat. “I go in free, coz I’m one of the
actors.”
“Five cents,” said the keeper of the box office.
“There it is,” said Julius, who had come provided with the right change.
The treasurer pulled a cord connecting with the door of entrance, and
Julius entered.
The Oprea House proved to consist of a room twenty feet by thirty, and
six and a half feet high. A portion of this was set apart as a stage, in front of
which hung a curtain of turkey-red calico, four breadths wide. On one side
was a lofty pillar with a scroll, on which was written the ambitious name of
this temple of the muses, “Grand Duke’s Oprea House.” In place of the
customary footlights was a kerosene lamp, which with the aid of a concave
reflector illuminated the room.
“What do yer think of it, Julius?” asked Pat, with justifiable pride.
“It’s bully.”
“Ain’t it? Do yer see that?”
Pat pointed to a large broadside of brown packing paper, on which was
rudely scrawled:
“BENEFIT
OF
Miles O’Reilly,
The Great Nigger Komedian
AND
Jig Dancer.”
“That’s me!” said Pat, with professional pride. “It looks big, don’t it?”
“Yes,” said Julius, admiringly.
“There’s lots of chaps would give all they could make on shines in a
week, to hev their names put up there,” said Pat, confidentially.
“I’d like it myself,” said Julius.
“Ef you wos goin’ to stay in the city, I’d learn you some jigs,” said Pat,
“and see what you was made of. It isn’t every feller that can make a good
jig dancer.”
“How are you, Miles?” said a large boy, slapping Pat on the shoulder. “I
guess you’ll have a good house.”
“I hope I will. Dave, this is a friend of mine. He ain’t been to the Oprea
House before.”
“Glad to see yer,” said David Conroy, with dignified affability. “Hope
yer’ll get yer money’s worth.”
To this Julius made a suitable reply.
“Dave is stage manager,” said Pat. “He kin do anything, kin Dave. He
painted the sceneries; you’ll see ’em bimeby, and he’s the best actor we’ve
got. He’s captain of the Mulligans. There ain’t nothin’ that feller can’t do,”
concluded Pat, with unmistakable admiration expressed in his tone.
“Where do you get your plays from, Pat?”
“Call me Miles while we are in the Oprea House. That’s my name here.”
 “Miles, then.”
“Dave fixes ’em up out of plays at the Theatre Comique, and some of the
songs we gits from Tony Pastor’s. If there was time I’d take you behind the
sceneries. But it’s most time to begin.”
“Miles O’Reilly is wanted,” was heard from behind the curtain, and the
great comedian left our hero and hurried behind the scenes.
By this time the cellar was nearly full of boys, varying in age from five
to twenty, who were crowded together in such near proximity as the limited
size of the auditorium rendered imperatively necessary. The front row was
close up to the curtain, and here Julius was fortunate enough to secure a
place.
The stiffness and reserve which characterize the spectators at other
theatres was dispensed with at the free and easy “Grand Duke’s Oprea
House.” Cheerful and jocose remarks were interchanged, spiced with genial
humor, and occasionally tinged with sarcastic remarks of a personal
character. But all was taken in good part. At last, however, the patrons
became impatient, and calls were heard, such as, “What yer waitin’ fur?”
“Hurry up de overture!” “Have yer gone ter sleep behind there?”
At last the manager responded to the flattering impatience of his patrons.
The curtain arose and displayed the orchestra consisting of two musicians, a
performer on an accordeon and a bone-player. The overture was made up of
pieces skillfully selected by the manager to suit the tastes of the audience.
Choice gems from “Norma,” “Trovatore,” and “Faust” would not have
satisfied the fastidious tastes of the Grand Duke’s patrons. Instead of these,
such choice airs as “Squeeze me, Joe,” and “Up in Avenue A,” afforded
unmistakable pleasure, and the whole closed with “The Campbells Are
Coming,” which was rendered with spirit and general acceptance.
Next came the comedy, “Laughing Gas,” in which the gas is
administered to a variety of patients, who are differently affected, one
laughing, another dancing, another combative, and so on. The acting was
rude, but lively, and the piece was rapturously applauded. In this applause
Julius bore his full part. Though he is my hero I have no desire to represent
him as more refined or better educated than the majority of his companions.
The classic drama or the opera, as brought out at the Academy, would have
been far less attractive to him than this rude performance.
 He was no less pleased with the next piece, in which two boys,
representing Tom King and Dick Turpin, appear on the stage with dark
lanterns, and attempt the robbery of a house, but become panic-stricken,
and exhibit more alarm than the occupants of the house. This, of course,
amuses the spectators.
“It ’minds me of Jack and Marlowe,” said Julius to his next neighbor,
“when they was robbin’ the house on Madison Avenue.”
“Was you there?” asked the other.
“No, but I knew all about it. I lived with Jack.”
“You did!” repeated the other, with something like awe at finding his
neighbor to have been intimate with so illustrious a criminal. “How did you
like him?”
“Jack wa’n’t a bad sort,” said Julius, “except when he was sprung. I like
him better than Marlowe.”
“They was took by the cops, wasn’t they?”
“Yes, they was took,” said Julius, shortly.
His own agency in the affair he didn’t care to mention, chiefly because
in the class to which he belonged it was considered a point of honor to
make common cause against the cops, that is, against the conviction of
those who transgress the laws, and our hero felt that the revelation of his
agency in entrapping his associates would not increase his popularity. Nor
would he have taken the part he did but for the gratitude he felt to Paul, and
the fear that he would suffer harm.
Later in the evening the beneficiary, the great Miles O’Reilly, appeared
in a jig, which was very creditably danced. His appearance was the signal
for a noisy ovation; due partly to his general popularity, and partly to his
position as the beneficiary of the evening.
“Good for yer, Miles!” expressed the general appreciation of his efforts.
Space will not permit us to enlarge on the other features in the programme
of the evening. Evidently “The Mulligan Guards” was most popular, being
received with tremendous applause. To gratify the curiosity of such of my
readers as are not familiar with this celebrated local song, the first verse is
here introduced:
 “We crave your condescension,
We’ll tell you what we know
Of marching in the Mulligan Guard,
From Sligoward below.
Our captain’s name was Hussey,
A Tipperary man,
He carried his sword like a Russian duke,
Whenever he took command.

Chorus.

“We shouldered guns, and marched and marched away,

From Baxter Street we marched to Avenue A;
With drums and fifes how sweetly they did play,
As we marched, marched, marched in the Mulligan Guard.”

The effect of the song is heightened by the marching of the Guards, the
roll of the drum, and presenting arms, which the young actors went through
very creditably.
At the close, Miles was summoned before the curtain, and a speech was
called for. As the recipient of the benefit the eminent actor could not very
well decline. He presented himself with a low bow, and said:
“Boys, I’m glad to welcome yez here this evening. I don’t care so much
for the stamps.” (“Oh, no! course yer don’t!” came in ironical accents from
some one in the audience.) “That’s so, Jim Blin, and you know it. I’m glad
yez like my dancin’! I won’t say no more, ’cause I ain’t used to makin’
speeches, but, with the kind permission of the manager, I’ll give yez anuther
jig, and wish you good-night!”
Here the speaker bowed, the music struck up, and, to the satisfaction of
all, the beneficiary repeated his performance. Then there was a rush for the
door and in five minutes the “Grand Duke’s Oprea House” was silent and
deserted.
 CHAPTER III.

ON THE RAILWAY.

As the time approached for his leaving New York, Julius could not help
feeling a little regret. The great city had been a harsh stepmother to him. He
had suffered often from cold and hunger, during the years that he had been
drifting about her streets, an unconsidered waif in the great sea of life. He
had received kindness from few, harshness from many. From the age of five
he had been forced to earn his own living, with no one to look out for him
except a professional thief. He had seen more of the dark than the bright
side of life, but he had not been without his enjoyments. Youth is hopeful
and can find enjoyment under the most unpropitious circumstances.
So Julius, as he took his last walk through the streets with which he had
for years been familiar, felt sorry that he was to leave them the next day,
perhaps, for many years. It is true he hoped to do better at the West, but all
his present associations were with Broadway, Chatham Street, and the
Bowery, and City Hall Park, and his new life would seem strange at first.
But when all preparations had been made and he found himself seated in
the cars, dressed in a new suit, with thirty other boys, under the general
charge of Mr. O’Connor, the superintendent of the Newsboys’ Lodging
House, he forgot the city, and was exhilarated by the rapid motion of the
cars, and the varied panorama through which he was swiftly passing.
“Ain’t it bully, Teddy?” said he to one of his city acquaintances who
occupied the adjoining seat.
“That’s so, Julius. I never rid in the cars before.”
“Didn’t you?” said Julius, with complacent superiority. “I have.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Well, I went to Newark, and one summer I went to Long Branch—
that’s a big watering place, you know. Both places are in New Jersey. I
stayed a week at Long Branch.”
“Did you put up at one of the big hotels?”
“Yes, I put up at the Continental Hotel.”
 “You’re gassin’!”
“No, I ain’t.”
“How much did you pay?”
“I forgot to ask for the bill,” said Julius.
“Where’d you sleep?”
“Oh, I slept in a bathing house, on the beach. It belonged to the hotel.”
“How’d you like it?”
“Pretty good, only the tide came up so high that it poured into the
bathing house, and gave me a wetting.”
“Did you get anything to do?”
“I made a few stamps by blackin’ boots, but the black-boots in the hotel
said he’d bounce me for interferin’ with his business. So I thought I’d come
back to the city. I didn’t mind much, for there wasn’t much goin’ on in the
daytime.”
“Do you know how long we’ll be travelin’?”
“Mr. O’Connor told me it would take us two days and nights, and
perhaps more. He says it’s more’n a thousand miles.”
“Suppose’n we don’t like it, and want to come back?”
“We can’t do it without money.”
“I haven’t got but a dollar.”
“I have got forty dollars,” said Julius, complacently.
“Where’d you get such a pile?” asked Teddy, who regarded forty dollars
as quite a fortune.
“Speculatin’ in real estate,” answered Julius, who did not care to mention
exactly how he came by the money.
“I don’t believe you’ve got so much,” said Teddy, who was under the
impression that he was being sold.
“I’ll show you part of it,” said Julius.
He drew out a pocketbook, and displayed five one-dollar bills, and a
small amount of fractional currency.
“That’s only five dollars.”
“Mr. O’Connor’s got the rest. He’s goin’ to give it to the man that I’m to
live with to take care of for me. I’d rather he’d keep it. I might lose it, or
spend it foolish.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I jist wish I had half as much.”
“Do you remember Jim Driscoll, that used to sell papers on Nassau
Street?”
“Yes, I knew him; where is he?”
“He went West about two years ago. He’s doin’ well. Got fifty dollars in
the savings bank, and a good home besides.”
“Who told you?”
“Mr. O’Connor. He had a letter from him.”
“Jim can’t write, nor read either. When he was sellin’ papers in Nassau
Street, he used to ask what was the news. Sometimes I told him wrong.
Once I told him the President was dead, and he didn’t know no better than
to believe it. He sold his papers fast, but the last chap got mad and booted
him.”
“Well, Jim can write now. He’s been to school since he was out there.”
“He can do more’n I can. I can read easy readin’, but I can’t write no
more’n a lamp-post.”
“Nor I,” said Julius, “but I mean to learn. I can’t read much, either.”
“I say, Julius; won’t it seem odd if we made money, and come to New
York and put up at a big hotel, and get our boots blacked, just like the
customers we used to have?”
“That’s what I mean to do, Teddy. I’ve got tired of knockin’ round the
streets, as I have ever since I was knee high to a toad.”
“So have I, Julius. But I expect we’ll have to work hard.”
“I always did have to work. I’ll be willin’ to work when I’ve got a good
home, and feel that I’m gettin’ along.”
The time had come to both of these homeless boys when they had
become tired of their vagrant life and Arab-like condition. They had a vague
idea of what is meant by respectability, and they began to appreciate its
value. They could see that the street life they had been leading must soon
terminate, and that it was time to form plans for the future. In a few years
they would be men, and lay aside the street employments by which they had
gained a scanty and miserable living. When that time came, would they take
a respectable place in the ranks of workingmen, or become social outlaws
like Jack Morgan and his confederate, Marlowe? Such thoughts had come
frequently to Julius of late, and his present state of mind was one of the
most encouraging signs of his future good conduct. He was dissatisfied with
his past life, and anxious to enter upon a better.
The thirty boys were not all in one car. Mr. O’Connor and the greater
part of them were in the car behind. Julius and the others could find no
room there, and had come into this car.
After his conversation with Teddy, Julius began to look out of the
window. Inexperienced as a traveler, and knowing very little of the country,
he saw much that excited his interest, as they sped onward at the rate of
thirty miles an hour. He also, with his usual habit of observation, regarded
his fellow-passengers with interest. Directly in front of him sat a stout man,
plainly dressed, who had become sleepy, and occasionally indulged in a
nod, his newspaper having fallen from his hands upon the floor. He was
probably more used to traveling than our hero and cared less for the
scenery. Julius gave him a casual look, but without much interest, till at a
way station a flashily dressed young man entered, and, looking carefully
about him, selected the seat beside the stout man though he had his choice
of several. Julius started when he saw him, and looked puzzled. He was
sure he had seen him before, at Jack Morgan’s room, but there was
something unfamiliar in his appearance. Jack’s friend had black hair. This
man’s hair was red. A closer look, however, explained this discrepancy.
Underneath the edge of the red he caught sight of a few black hairs, which
were not entirely concealed. It was clear that he wore a red wig.
“It is Ned Sanders,” said Julius to himself, “and he’s got a red wig on.
What’s he up to, I wonder? I’ll watch him.”
 CHAPTER IV.

JULIUS DETECTS A PICKPOCKET.

Ned Sanders settled himself into his seat, and looked about him. He did
not, however, recognize Julius, for, though he had seen him in calling upon
Jack Morgan, he had never taken particular notice of his features, probably
regarding him as of little importance. Finally Mr. Sanders devoted special
attention to the man at his side. As the latter was sleeping, he was not
conscious of the close watch of his companion.
Julius noticed it, however, and, being familiar with the character of
Sanders, said to himself: “I know what he’s up to. He wants to pick his
pocket.”
From the watch pocket of the stout stranger depended a gold watch chain
solid and valuable in appearance, and to it was attached a gold watch.
Sanders took out a newspaper, and held it before him. He appeared to be
very much occupied with its contents, but Julius detected a stealthy glance
at his companion’s waistcoat.
“This is gettin’ excitin’,” thought Julius. “He won’t wait long.”
Julius was right. Ned Sanders felt that now was the favorable
opportunity to carry out his unlawful purpose, while his neighbor was
asleep, as when his nap was over he would more readily detect his
intentions.
With his paper still before his face, his hand crept softly to the watch
chain, which he gently appropriated, dropping it into his coat pocket. But he
was not yet satisfied. He was preparing to relieve the other of his
pocketbook also, when Julius thought it was about time to interfere. Rising
in his seat, he struck the stout man forcibly on the back. The latter started,
and opening his eyes said, “What! Eh, what do you want? Is it morning?”
The pickpocket started also, and looked uneasy, but retained his seat, not
suspecting that he had been detected. His uneasiness arose from the fear
that his neighbor, on awakening, would immediately miss his watch, which
would be awkward and perhaps dangerous for him. He was vexed with
Julius, whom he did not yet recognize, for this interference with his plans.
“Can’t you let the gentleman alone?” he said angrily. “Why do you
disturb him?”
“What’s the matter?” said his victim, in his turn, a little irritated. “What
do you mean by thumping my back, boy?”
“I wanted to ask you what time it is,” said Julius, quietly.
“Well, that’s cool,” grumbled the stout man. “You wake me up out of a
nap to ask me what time of day it is.”
Sanders turned pale when Julius asked this question, for he saw that
discovery was imminent. He half arose from his seat, but it occurred to him
that that would only fasten suspicion upon him. Moreover the train was
going at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour, and, though he might go into
another car, he could not escape from the train. He closed his lips tightly,
and tried to look calm and indifferent. He had determined to brazen it out.
Notwithstanding his grumbling rejoinder, the stout man felt for his
watch. Now it was his turn to start and look dismayed.
“By jove, it’s gone!” he ejaculated.
“What’s the matter, sir?” asked Julius.
“My watch and chain are gone. Do you know anything about them,
boy?”
“I think you had better put that question to the man you’re sittin’ with.”
“What do you mean by that, you young rascal?” demanded Ned Sanders,
pale with passion and dismay. “I think, sir, the boy behind you has taken
your watch.”
“I don’t see how he could do that,” said the other, regarding him
suspiciously. “Can you tell me where my watch is sir?”
“What should I know of your watch? Do you mean to insult me, sir?”
blustered the pickpocket.
His manner increased the suspicions of his victim, who recognized, by
his appearance and flashy attire, the class to which he belonged. He turned
to Julius, and asked, “What made you refer to this gentleman?”
“Because,” said Julius bluntly, “I saw him take it. He held up the paper
before him, while he loosened your chain. He’s got it in his pocket now.”
 “That is sufficient. Now, sir,” he said sternly, “I command you instantly
to return my watch and chain.”
“I haven’t got it. The boy lies,” said Sanders, furiously.
By this time, most of the passengers in the car had gathered around the
two. Just at this moment, too, the conductor entered.
“What’s the matter, gentlemen?” he asked.
“This man has stolen my watch,” said the stout man.
“It’s a —— lie!” said Sanders.
“Are you willing to show us what you have in your pockets?” said the
conductor.
“No, I’m not. I am a New York merchant, and I won’t submit to an
impertinence.”
“Where is your place of business?”
“In Pearl Street,” answered Sanders, quite at random.
“Have you one of your business cards with you?”
“I believe so.”
He felt in his pocket, and appeared surprised at finding none.
“I believe I have none with me,” he admitted. “I generally have some.”
“What’s your business?”
“I’m in the clothing business?” said Sanders, with some hesitation.
“What is your name?”
“I won’t answer any more questions,” said the pickpocket, desperately.
“You have insulted me enough, all of you. Just make way, will you? I am
going to get out.”
The cars had just stopped at a way station.
Sanders attempted to arise, but his victim seized him by the arm.
“You don’t leave this car till you have surrendered my watch,” he said.
“Let go, or I’ll strike you,” said Sanders, losing his prudence in his
anger.
“You can’t get out till you have been searched,” said the conductor.
“Who is the boy that saw him take the watch?”
“I did,” said Julius.
“Where did he put it? Did you notice?”
 “In his left breast pocket.”
“Show us what you have in that pocket.”
Sanders hesitated? and then drew out a handkerchief.
“There, I hope you are satisfied,” he said.
Meantime his neighbor, pressing his hand against the pocket on the
outside, exclaimed triumphantly:
“He’s got the watch. I can feel it.”
The thief uttered a profane ejaculation, and made a desperate effort to
arise, but three men threw themselves upon him, two holding him down,
while the other drew out the watch and chain, and handed them to their
owner.
“Now will you let me go?” demanded Sanders, doggedly. He felt that it
would do no good to indulge in further protestations of innocence.
“No,” said the conductor. “Gentlemen, will you guard him till we reach
the next station? Then I will place him in the hands of an officer.”
“Boy,” said Sanders, turning around, and glaring fiercely at Julius, “I
shan’t forget you. Some time I’ll make you repent what you’ve done to-
day.”
“Don’t mind him, my lad,” said the stout man, elated by the recovery of
his property. “You’ve done exactly right. But how came you to suspect this
man?”
“Because I knew him,” said Julius.
Here Sanders turned around, and scanned our hero’s face sharply.
“That’s a lie!” he said.
“It’s not a lie, Mr. Ned Sanders,” said Julius. “I’ve seen you more than
once.”
Again Sanders scanned his features sharply. This time a light dawned
upon him.
“I know you now,” he said; “you’re Jack Morgan’s boy.”
“I was,” said Julius.
“Have you left him?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you going?”
 “Out West.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t want to tell me.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t care about receiving a visit from you.”
“I’ll hunt you up, and pay off old debts. I shouldn’t be in this scrape but
for you,” said Sanders, vindictively.
He relapsed into a moody silence, and said nothing more while in the
car. At the next station, which was an important place, two officers were
summoned, who took him into custody. But he managed to elude their
vigilance some hours later and escaped to New York.
 CHAPTER V.

JULIUS IS REWARDED.

After the pickpocket had been removed from the car, his intended victim
turned in his seat, and addressed Julius.
“Come and sit by me,” he said; “I want to speak with you.”
Julius readily accepted the invitation.
“My boy,” said the stout gentleman, “you have done me a great service.”
“I am glad of it,” said Julius.
“You must know that this watch and chain, which but for you I should
have lost, were bought for me, in Switzerland, by a son who has since died.
They are valuable in themselves, but they are five times as valuable to me
because they were a last gift from him.”
“I am glad Ned didn’t get off with ’em,” said Julius.
“You seem to know this man,” said the other, with some curiosity.
“Oh, yes, sir, I know him like a brick.”
The common expression is “like a book”; but that would hardly have
implied any close knowledge on the part of Julius, for he knew next to
nothing of books. Probably the phrase he did use was suggested by the
other.
“Is he a professional pickpocket?”
“Oh, yes, that’s the way he makes a livin’.”
“Then how do you come to know him?”
“Oh, he used to come and see Jack.”
“Who’s Jack?”
“Jack Morgan—the man I used to live with.”
“Jack didn’t have very respectable friends, then, I should judge.”
“Ned and he was pretty thick. They used to do business together.”
“Was Jack a pickpocket, also?”
“He didn’t do much that way; he was too clumsy. He broke into houses.”
 “What! was he a burglar?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mean to say that you lived with a burglar?” asked the stout
gentleman, in surprise.
“Yes,” said Julius, unconcerned.
“And did you help him, too?” demanded the other, suspiciously.
“No, I didn’t,” said Julius. “I didn’t like the business. Besides, I didn’t
want to be sent over to the island. I blacked boots, and such things.”
“That is a much better way of getting a living,” said his companion,
approvingly.
“So I think,” said Julius; “but it ain’t quite so easy.”
“I think you are mistaken. An honest life is the easiest in the end. Where
is Jack now?”
“Oh, he’s in the Tombs. He was took up for burglary of a house in
Madison Avenue. I guess he’ll be sent up for five or ten years.”
“That won’t be very easy, or pleasant.”
“No,” said Julius. “I’m glad I ain’t in Jack’s shoes.”
“I hope, my lad, you are in no danger of following the example of your
evil associates.”
“No,” said Julius. “I’m goin’ to be respectable.”
“An excellent determination. How do you happen to be traveling?”
“Oh, I’m goin’ out West.”
“What made you think of that?”
“Mr. O’Connor—he’s the superintendent of the Newsboys’ Lodging
House—was goin’ to take some boys out, and get ’em places; and he
offered to take me.”
“Are all these boys I see in the car going out too?”
“Yes, sir, all of ’em, and there’s some more in the car behind.”
“Where in the West do you expect to go?”
“I don’t know,” said Julius. “Is the West a big place?”
“I should say it was,” said the other, with a laugh. “It’s a very large
place.”
 “Were you ever there?” asked Julius, desiring to hear something about
his place of destination.
“I live there—in Wisconsin. Did you ever hear of Wisconsin?”
Julius shook his head.
“I don’t know much about any places, except New York and Jersey,” he
added.
“I live in the city of Milwaukee, in Wisconsin. It is quite a flourishing
city.”
“Is it as big as New York?”
“Oh, no; we can’t show any cities in the West as big as New York. I
doubt if we ever shall, though we’ve some large cities, that are growing
fast. Do you think you are likely to come to Milwaukee?”
“I don’t know,” said Julius. “Mr. O’Connor could tell you.”
“Where is he?”
“In the other car. Will I speak to him?”
“Not yet. I’ve got something more to say to you. I am under an
obligation to you.”
“What’s that?” asked Julius, puzzled.
“I mean that you have done me a favor.”
“That’s all right,” said Julius. “I’m glad of it.”
“And in doing so, you have probably made an enemy,” added the other.
“You mean Ned Sanders?”
“Yes; I am afraid, if he gets a chance, he will do you an injury.”
“I’ll be out of his way.”
“He might some time see you.”
“If he does, and I’m grown up, I won’t be afraid of him.”
“You seem to be a brave young man.”
“I ain’t a coward,” said Julius, proudly.
“And yet there are some things I hope you will be afraid of.”
“What are them?” asked Julius, somewhat puzzled.
“I hope you will be afraid to lie and steal, and do wrong generally.”
“I shan’t steal,” said Julius; “I don’t know about lyin’, most boys lie
sometimes.”
 “I hope you will be one of the boys that do not lie at all.”
“Maybe so,” said Julius, dubiously. “A feller can’t always be good.”
“No, I suppose not. But there is no occasion for lying.”
“I’ll try not to, but I ain’t an angel.”
“Angels are scare, as far as my observation goes,” said his companion,
smiling, “and you appear to have too much human nature about you to be
altogether angelic. But there’s one thing you can do. You can try to do
right.”
“I mean to,” said Julius, promptly. “I want to grow up respectable.”
“If you want to, you probably will. You’ll have a better chance at the
West than you would in New York.”
“If I stayed there, I’d be a bootblack all my life,” said Julius. “There
ain’t no chance for a boy like me to rise. I wouldn’t want to be a
bootblack,” he added reflectively, “when I got to be old and gray-headed.”
“No, it wouldn’t be an agreeable business for an old man to follow. But
I’ve got off the track.”
“Off the track!” repeated Julius, looking out of the window.
“Oh, I didn’t mean that. The cars are all right. But I meant to say, that I
had got away from what I meant to say. I think I owe you something for
your saving me from losing my watch.”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” said Julius.
“To me it is a great deal, and I want to show my sense of the favor. Is
there anything in particular you would like?”
“I don’t know,” said Julius, thoughtfully. “I might like a jack-knife.”
“That isn’t enough. As I said, I have particular reason to value my watch
and chain. Did you ever have a watch yourself?”
“I never got so far along. I couldn’t save enough on shines for that.”
“Well, it so happens that, in New York, I took a small silver watch and
chain in the way of business from a traveler who owed me money. Here it
is.”
He drew from his pocket a neat, but inexpensive silver watch, with a
chain of the same metal.
“What do you think of it?” he said.
“It’s tiptop,” said Julius admiringly.
 “I am glad you like it, for I am going to give it to you.”
“Goin’ to give me a watch and chain!” repeated Julius, in amazement.
“Yes. Would you like it?”
“It’ll make me feel like a swell,” said Julius, elated. “Ain’t it a beauty,
Teddy?” he continued, turning in his seat, and displaying it to his comrade.
“It ain’t yours, is it?” asked Teddy, not without a slight feeling of envy.
“Yes, it is. This gentleman says so.”
And Julius proudly put the watch in his vest pocket, and attached the
chain to one of the button-holes. The donor looked on with a benevolent
smile, glad that he had been able to make so acceptable a gift to the boy
who had done him such a service.
“Now,” he said, smiling, “it will be your turn to look out for pickpockets.
They may try to carry off your watch, as they did mine.”
“I d like to see ’em do it,” said Julius, confidently. “It’ll take a smart
pickpocket to hook my watch.”
“Well, my young friend,” said the other, “as the time may come when I
can do you a service, I will give you my card.”
“I can’t read writin’,” admitted Julius, reluctantly, as he took the card,
which was printed in script.
“My name is John Taylor, of Milwaukee. Keep the card, and you will
soon be able to read it.”
Here the paper boy passed through the car, and Mr. Taylor, purchasing a
copy of Harper’s Weekly, was soon immersed in its contents. Finding that
the interview was ended, Julius returned to his former seat, and Teddy and
he spent some time in admiring it.
 CHAPTER VI.

A NEWSBOY’S LETTER.

“I say, Julius, you’re in luck,” said Teddy.

“I won’t be in luck if Marlowe or Ned Sanders gets hold of me.”
“They won’t find you, away out West.”
“Marlowe might. He’s a tough customer, Marlowe is. I mind how he
looked when he got hold of me at Staten Island. Jack ain’t so bad, but
Marlowe’d go a thousand miles to get hold of me.”
“I wouldn’t think of it, Julius.”
“I shan’t lose no sleep. If he don’t break out of jail, I’ll be a man before
he can get at me.”
“Look out of the window, Julius. See them cows harnessed together.
What are they doin’?”
“They’re ploughin’, I expect,” said Julius, who, like his companion, took
a yoke of oxen for cows.
“They don’t go very fast.”
“They look as if they was lazy. They’re the biggest cows I ever see.”
Here Mr. O’Connor came into the car and passed down the aisle, looking
to see that none of the boys were missing.
“Well, boys, how are you getting along?” he asked, pleasantly.
“Bully!” “Tiptop!” were heard from the boys on either side.
“What have you got there, Julius?” asked the superintendent, noticing
the watch chain.
Julius drew out his watch.
“Where did you get it?” asked Mr. O’Connor, a little suspiciously. “You
haven’t spent any of your money, have you?”
“No; it was given me,” said Julius.
“Given you?”
“By that gentleman.”
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