Escape to the World's Fair Read Online Free PDF

depot. Frances herself had overheard her talking to the station matron. “She said she was going to send us to a man named Edwin Adolphius, who runs an industrial school. But . . . it didn’t sound like a school at all. It sounded like a factory.”
    â€œEdwin Adolphius,” Eli repeated the name slowly. “He sounds important. But sometimes, important folks are the worst kind of folks.”
    â€œThat’s for sure,” Alexander muttered. “Well, we’ll just have to stay on the lookout when we’re on the train.”
    â€œSpeaking of the train, do you suppose it runs along the river?” Jack asked, pointing down the street ahead of them.
    They were walking the slope of a gentle hill that Frances now realized was the bank of a very big river. It was in fact the biggest river she’d seen since the Hudson River in New York. It was a great swath of bright silver that glinted under the midday sun.
    â€œThe Mississippi,” she whispered.
    They had come to the bottom of the hill now, where they crossed one more street. Frances studied the row of brick buildings lined up along the riverbank. “I don’t see the depot, do you?” she asked the others.
    â€œZogby mentioned something about a ticket office,” Jack said.
    Sure enough, there was a sign that said TICKETS on a tiny little structure that was set back behind the other buildings, with a wooden sidewalk and a flight of steps leading up to it.
    Alexander was the first to reach the top of the stairs, and as he did, Frances heard him say, “
Whoa!
Look at this!” She ran up the last few steps to see for herself.
    They were at the very edge of the river now. And there, along the stretch of bank that had been hidden from view by the buildings, was a huge, white boat. It was bigger than the Staten Island Ferry and grander, too, with three upper decks trimmed with lacy woodwork. It looked to Frances like the fancy layer cakes she’d seen in bakery windows. The two tall chimney pipes trailed smoke as the boat drew nearer to the bank. Frances realized it was heading for the dock near them.
    â€œAre we going on a
ship
?” Harold asked.
    â€œIt’s a steamboat!” Eli said. “A good old Mississippi steamboat!”
    Jack let out a low whistle. “Three decks! That’s really something!”
    Painted along the side of the boat were the words
Addie Dauphin.
Frances supposed it was the name of the steamboat—it sounded like it was named after someone fun and adventurous, and for a moment she wished she knew this girl, whoever she was. As Frances stared out across the glittering water at the boat, she felt a thrill unlike any she had felt in days. She was finally glad again to be on the road.
Well, not exactly the road,
she thought.
This time it’s the river.
    â€œGuess what, Harold?” she told her little brother. “Looks like we won’t be going on a train after all.”

6
    T HE RIVER RATS
    A s soon as the
Addie Dauphin
came in, the dock seemed to spring to life. Crews of men strode single file down the gangplanks, carrying crates and bales of straw and cotton. Another team rolled big wooden casks up a ramp to the boat’s deck; still more men used ropes and pulleys to haul a load of trunks on board. Jack had been thinking back to New York a lot over the past day, and the dock made him think of the crowded sidewalks of that city—so much hustle back and forth. There was even a group of older boys who loitered by one of the gangplanks, shoving one another jovially the way some of the street-gang kids did back on the Lower East Side.
    Jack watched everything, mesmerized, until he felt someone nudge his shoulder.
    â€œCome on, Jack. We’ve got to get our tickets.” Alexander pointed toward the ticket window, where a line had begun to form.
    The boys by the gangplank paused their shoving to stare at Jack and the others as they passed. Jack just