we take a look at the town where we are to work in the days to
come. Let's be moving."

They rose and passed through the station. Its great vaulted ceiling,
half as high as a church steeple, its huge flights of steps, its
enormous corridors, its wonderful stonework, dwarfing into
insignificance anything they had ever seen before, fairly awed the boys
from Central City. It was Roy's keen eye that caught sight of the
great maps of the world high up on the walls. The crowds of people
coming and going hardly seemed like crowds, so vast was the structure.
With reluctant feet the four boys pushed on. But when they had mounted
the steps to the arcade and caught sight of the illuminated
transparencies showing scenes along the railway's path, they came to a
dead stop. For Willie Brown, with his almost uncanny eye for
landscapes, at once declared that a certain picture represented a
mountain scene not twenty-five miles from Central City; and when the
others appealed to Captain Hardy, the latter confirmed Willie's
statement.

When the four lads reached the sidewalk they were almost distracted.
Thousands of people were hurrying along, passing in endless throngs up
and down the street. Never had the boys from Central City seen people
in such a rush.

"What's the hurry?" demanded Roy. "Why does everybody walk so fast?
What's up?"

"Nothing," replied Captain Hardy, with a smile. "That's just the New
York gait. Everybody walks fast here, and does everything else fast;
and if you boys want to make a reputation in New York you'll have to
hustle some. But I don't want you to make that kind of a reputation,"
he continued, hastily yanking Willie Brown from in front of a passing
motor-car. "You will have to keep your eyes open here."

And indeed they had to. Motor-cars were rushing about as numerous as
flies in August. Trolley-cars followed one another up and down Seventh
Avenue in endless processions. Wagons and trucks stretched along the
highway in slow-moving lines as far as the eye could see. Bells were
ringing, whistles tooting, horns blowing, motor-cars honking, newsies
shouting. The grinding of car-wheels, the rattle of carts, the clatter
of hoofs on the asphalt, the shuffling of feet on the sidewalk, and a
thousand other noises combined to make an indescribable and confusing
roar. The noise and bustle were bewildering.

"I guess mother was right," thought Henry. "It would be mighty easy to
get lost here. T