by Al Lacy
“That’s great!” exclaimed Diane. “Dane’s going to be so surprised. I’m so glad that he and Todd are best friends. Todd is such a nice boy.”
Ronnie giggled and looked at his sister. “Todd’s a nice boy, all right, and you’re in love with him!”
Diane blushed. “Oh, Ronnie, I’m not in love with him. I just think he’s a nice boy.”
Fay smiled. “Ronnie, Diane is too young to be in love.”
“That’s for sure.” A sly grin curved Craig’s lips as he looked at his daughter. “She won’t be old enough to fall in love and get married until she’s forty-five. Until then, she will stay home with her papa!”
They all had a good laugh, and at that moment the waitress arrived with their food.
At the Baxter home, where there were four children, including Dane Weston’s friend, Todd, everyone was enjoying the meal prepared by Mona Baxter and her daughters, Letha, Angie, and Tippy, who were twelve, ten, and eight.
While they were eating, Dane and Todd were talking about school things. Todd snickered and gave his friend a teasing look. “If you don’t keep your grades up for the next three years, ol’ pal, you’ll never qualify to enter medical school.”
Dane knew his friend was teasing him. He set his dark-brown eyes on him and made a face.
Mona said, “Todd, wouldn’t it be marvelous if you had such good grades? I happen to know that Dane is a straight-A student. His mother told me so.”
Todd laughed. “I know it, Mama. I was just giving my pal a hard time.”
Dolph Baxter frowned playfully at his son. “Tell you what, Todd. If you don’t get your grades to look more like Dane’s, I’m going to give you a hard time!”
“Yes, sir,” said Todd. “I promise to do better, Papa.”
Dolph chuckled. “I’m not really complaining, son. Sure, I’d like to see you getting A’s, but at least you’re not giving your mother and me the kind of heartaches that these boys in the teenage gangs are giving their parents. We’re thankful for that.”
“That’s for sure,” said Mona. “You said something about the gangs when you were reading the newspaper this afternoon, dear, but I was passing by your chair on my way to answer the door when that salesman was here, and didn’t get to ask you what was in the paper about them.”
Dolph shook his head in disgust. “The front page of the New York Herald was loaded with it, as well as two articles inside. Those gangs are getting bolder and meaner all the time. They are robbing, beating, and killing people in the five New York boroughs every day. The front-page article declared that the mayors in all five boroughs are working with the police chiefs on a plan to crack down on the gangs, as well as other criminals, and make the streets of New York safer. Governor Halstead has offered his complete backing of the plan.”
“So what is the plan?”
Dolph had everyone’s attention. “The plan is to hire more policemen in all five boroughs so that those officers who walk beats or ride the streets on horseback will each have a partner. There will be no more officers walking or riding by themselves. In the past month just here in Manhattan, three officers working alone have been killed and seven have been seriously injured. The other boroughs have had similar incidents.”
“So when are they going to put the plan into action, Mr. Baxter?” asked Dane.
“It already is. The police departments of all five boroughs already have hundreds of new men in training. They will be ready for duty in a matter of weeks, and then the streets will be safer.”
Dolph, Mona, and the boys discussed the citizens who had been beaten and robbed in their own neighborhood in the past few weeks, and stories they had heard about the orphans who lived in the alleys and on the streets of downtown Manhattan who had been attacked and beaten by the teenage gangs. Dolph pointed out that Governor Merle Halstead had announced there were going to be stiffer penalties for the gang members and any other criminals who were caught and sentenced.
Mona sighed. “It’s bad enough to have this kind of crime on New York’s streets to endanger its citizens, but at least most of them have homes where they can go at night and lock their doors. But I so often think of those poor orphan children who live in the alleys and on the streets who have no such protection. Not only are many orphans starving to death year-round and freezing to death in the winter months, but they are vulnerable to the gangs at all times.”
“Yes,” said Dolph. “It’s a pitiful shame. I wish there were more orphanages in this city. Every one of them is already overcrowded. Craig Weston and I have talked about it. We both wish we had a giant-sized orphanage where we could give all of the orphans homes. But with what little money we make being janitors, it is all we can do to keep a roof over the heads of our families, clothes on their bodies, and food on the tables.”
Mona drained her coffee cup and set it down. “Fay and I have talked about this orphan problem several times. We have the same wish. That’s why I so much appreciate the Children’s Aid Society. They send so many of those poor orphans out West on the orphan trains. This orphan problem would be much greater than it is if it wasn’t for Charles Loring Brace and his staff.”
“Right. Brace has done a marvelous thing with those orphan trains. At least those children who have been transported out West are off the dangerous streets of New York and for the most part, according to the newspapers, in good foster homes on farms and ranches.” Dolph paused and chuckled. “Come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind being one of those fortunate orphans myself. I’ve always wanted to go out West and see the great wide open country where the air is fresh and clean—not like the smelly, putrid air here in the big city.”
Mona touched fingertips to her temple. “That reminds me. Dolph, did you see that article in the Herald last week about the orphan trains and the song the orphans sing while they’re on the trains, heading west?”
“No. I missed that one.”
“I’d like you to hear the words of that little song. That copy of the Herald is still in the cupboard, waiting to be used as shelf paper. I’ll go get it. I’d like for all of you to hear it.”
As Mona spoke, she pushed her chair back, but before she could rise, Todd jumped up. “I’ll get it for you, Mama. What’s the date on it?”
Mona eased back on the chair. “It was exactly a week ago. Thursday, April 6. You know where the stack of papers is—in the left section of the cupboard, bottom shelf.”
“Uh-huh.”
Todd dashed to the cupboard, and after sifting through the newspapers briefly, he returned with the previous Thursday’s edition of the paper. He handed it to his mother.
Mona thanked him and began flipping pages. “Yes. Here it is. The article says the song was made up by one of the ladies who travels as a sponsor with the girls in their coaches on the orphan trains. Both the boys and the girls learn the song while they are on the train and sing it often while traveling west. Talk about the difference between the big city and the wide open spaces. Listen to this:
From city’s gloom to country’s bloom,
Where fragrant breezes sigh;
From city’s blight to greenwood bright
Like the birds of summer fly.
O children, dear children,
So blessed are you and I!
Dane chuckled. “Hey, Mrs. Baxter, I really like that! If I didn’t have such a good home with my wonderful parents and sister and brother, I wouldn’t mind going out there on the western frontier where the fragrant breezes sigh myself! When those fragrant breezes sigh to the orphans out there, maybe each one hears whispers in the wind, welcoming them to a new and wonderful life.”
Mona smiled. “Whispers in the wind welcoming them. That’s good. Yes, from what I’ve read, I think they do, Dane. I think they do.”
At the Twenty-Third Street Café, Craig and Fay Weston lingered over steaming cups of coffee. Fay ran her soft gaze over the faces of her two younger children and sighed contentedly. “This has been such a treat. I can’t even rememb
er the last time we ate out.” She looked at her husband and smiled. “Not that I’m complaining, honey. I’m always grateful that we have food for me to cook, but it’s nice for a change to eat someone else’s cooking.”
Craig smiled back at her. “I’m sure it is, sweetheart, but I’m very partial to your cooking. It’s the best in the world.”
“Thank you, honey. You always know how to make me feel special.”
Diane and Ronnie were busy scraping up the last crumbs of chocolate cake and frosting from their plates. Fay and Craig noted it and exchanged satisfied looks, glad that they could give them this special evening.
When the children had gleaned the last crumb from their plates, Craig looked out the steamed-up window. “Well, family, I think it’s time we head for home. It’s been great fun, but tomorrow’s another day, and morning comes all too soon at best.”
A bit reluctantly, Diane and Ronnie nodded their agreement. All four rose from the table, put on their coats, and the parents picked up their umbrellas. Craig went to the counter with the others following and paid the bill. They opened the umbrellas, and as the foursome stepped out onto the rain-drenched, ill-lighted street, Craig said, “The rain is letting up some. Well, let’s head for 218 Thirty-third Street.”
Craig shared his umbrella with Diane and Fay shared hers with Ronnie as the Westons headed back up the street. They passed Chadwick’s Bookstore, and when they reached the corner, they turned northward on Third Avenue and headed for Thirty-third Street. The book they had purchased for Dane’s birthday was in the paper bag, tucked under Craig’s arm.
As they approached the dark mouth of an alley with the rain splattering on the street and sidewalk all around them, they saw several shadowed figures emerge from the alley in the dim light, and block the path in front of them.
Fay gasped, stopped, and took a deep, shuddering breath.
Craig steeled himself, his own heart pounding.
Chapter Two
At the Baxter flat, which was located down the block from the Weston apartment building at 284 Thirty-third Street, supper was almost over.
Dane Weston finished his bowl of vanilla pudding, placed the spoon in the bowl, and smiled as he looked at the Baxter family. “Thank you so much for the delicious supper. I always enjoy coming to this home. It’s so much like my own home, and I feel so comfortable here. One reason, of course, is because Todd is my best friend. Another reason is because I always enjoy talking to all of you about the things that are happening here in our city. Another reason is because all of you support my wanting to become a doctor.”
Dolph wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Dane, we are glad that our son is best friends with you, and we most certainly are proud of you in your desire to become a doctor.”
“We sure are,” said Mona.
Letha, Angie, and Tippy all nodded, smiling at him.
Todd grinned and clipped Dane’s chin playfully. “Hey, who knows? Maybe someday you’ll be the family doctor for all us kids when we grow up and get married.”
Dane chuckled. “That would be all right with me.” He paused, then said, “Well, I’d better be going. Papa and Mama and my little sister and brother are probably finishing supper right now and will be expecting me to be home real soon. Thank you again for the good supper.”
As he spoke, Dane pushed his chair back and stood up.
Todd rose from his chair. “I’ll walk you downstairs to the front door, Dane.”
“All right.” Dane bid the others good-night, and the two boys went to the door, where Dane’s coat hung on a clothes tree. He slipped into the coat, and they moved out into the hall.
While they were descending the stairs, Dane said, “It’s your turn to eat at our place next, ol’ pal. How about next Friday? We can just come to our flat straight from school together.”
“Sounds good to me,” responded Todd. “If it’s all right with your parents.”
Dane laughed. “What are you talking about? Mama and Papa have both told you that you’re welcome anytime. I’ll tell them you’re coming next Friday.”
“Okay. I’ll ask my parents. I’m sure they’ll let me.”
They reached the first floor and both saw that the rain was still coming down, though it was less heavy than when they started supper.
Dane picked up a newspaper from a small table by the vestibule door, unfolded it, and held it over his head. “Good night, Todd. See you tomorrow.”
“Sure enough,” replied Todd, and pulled the door open for his friend.
Dane moved out into the falling rain and headed down the block toward his own apartment building. As he hurried along, he saw a group of teenage boys standing under a street lamp across the street. They were watching him, but made no move to cross the street. He thought of the discussion at the Baxter table about the teenage gangs, and a chill slithered down his spine. He wondered if those boys were one of the gangs, and if they were to start after him could he outrun them to his apartment building?
He picked up his pace, keeping the newspaper above his head, but the rain was still putting its spray on his face and in his hair. Twice, he glanced over his shoulder to see if the teenage boys were following him, but they were still grouped beneath the street lamp.
Soon he drew up to 218 Thirty-third Street and bounded up the wet steps to the vestibule door. He used his key to unlock it, and plunged inside.
A few blocks away on Third Avenue, near an alley, four policemen bent over the crumpled bodies of a man, woman, girl, and small boy.
One of the officers picked up a wallet that lay on the wet pavement and opened it. “Man’s name is Craig Weston, Captain. No money in the wallet. Lived over on Thirty-third Street. These are no doubt his wife and children. Dirty gang beat every one of them to death.”
“Wait a minute, Captain!” said an officer who was bending over the girl. “This little gal is still alive! She’s breathing!”
The captain stood up and moved over beside him. “Sure enough. No time to wait for an ambulance. Sergeant Bickford and I will take her to the hospital. You men use the paddy wagon and take the bodies of the others to the morgue. Pick up the woman’s purse and that paper bag. Take them to the station after you’ve been to the morgue. We’ll get back to you later.”
At the apartment building, Dane Weston placed the wet newspaper in a wastebasket by the vestibule door and hurried up the stairs. He was unaware that a man moved into the vestibule from outside, glanced up at him, then shook the rain off his umbrella and entered the combination office and landlord’s apartment.
When Dane reached the second floor, he quickly moved down the hall and drew up to apartment number 42. He grasped the knob and turned it, but was surprised when the door did not budge. Frowning, he knocked on the door. When there was no sound of footsteps inside the apartment, he knocked again, wondering why somebody hadn’t come to let him in.
When there was still no sign of life inside the apartment, Dane took out his skeleton key, unlocked the door, and moved inside. Except for the light coming through the windows from the windows of the next apartment building, the flat was dark. An uneasy feeling came over him, akin to the one he had experienced a few minutes earlier when he saw the group of teenage boys watching him from across the street.
He closed the door and looked toward the bedrooms. “Mama! Papa! You back there?”
Silence.
Dane shook his head, wondering why his family was not home yet.
He removed his coat, hung it on a wall peg near the closet door, and made his way into the small parlor. While lighting two lanterns, he told himself his family would be arriving at any minute.
His next move was down the narrow hall, through the kitchen to the washroom. In the dim light that was coming from the windows of the adjacent apartment building, he dried his face and hair with a towel, then returned to the parlor.
His family was still not home.
He sat down on the sofa and watched the raindrops running down the
window. He was only able to do that for ten minutes. Unable to sit still, he left the sofa and began pacing the floor. Every few seconds for the next hour and a half, he went to the rain-spattered window and looked toward the street for some sign of his family. Since the window was on the side of the building, his view of the street was limited.
He went back to the sofa and plopped down on it with a heavy sigh. He thought of the discussion at the Baxter table that evening about the teenage gangs and their attacks on people who were on the streets. He shook his head, telling himself nothing like that had happened to his family.
He glanced at the clock on the parlor wall.
Nine-twenty.
Worry gripped him. They told him they were going to do a little shopping before supper, but certainly it wouldn’t take this long. Where could his family be?
Again, he went to the window and looked out. He could tell that the rain had almost stopped. Only a few windows in the adjacent apartment building were still showing lantern light.
The strange feeling from earlier washed over him again. He took a deep breath and hurried into the hall. He took his coat off the hook, put it on, and went out the door.
Dane made his way down the stairs and out on to the street. He looked both ways for some sign of his family, but there was only a buggy on the street, moving away from him with the clatter of the horse’s hooves echoing among the buildings. There was no one on the sidewalks. Clenching his teeth, he let out a moan and returned to the flat.
Once again in the parlor, he found himself pacing the floor. The worry inside Dane Weston was growing stronger as he ran shaky fingers through his black, curly hair.
Suddenly he heard male voices in the hall, along with heavy footsteps. He stopped and looked toward the door. He jumped when there was a sudden knock. His mouth went dry as he opened the door to find two uniformed policemen. The one who had captains bars on his shirt collar said, “Are you Dane Weston, son?”
