He was almost always there, half hidden in the shadows. Feet tramped past, and voices rang out in a chaotic scene of noise and motion. But for a long, long time, the boy sat as still and quiet as a statue, looking at the people in the train station yet rarely being seen. He watched and he listened, as if waiting for something very particular.
If anyone had thought to notice the child, they would have seen a little boy, almost eight years old. His hair fell in dark tangled masses over his handsome little face. And his starry dark eyes flitted back and forth, full of curiosity and intelligence. For as long as he sat there, you would have thought that someone would have finally asked if the child was lost or if he was looking for someone in the crowd. But they didn't. No one seemed to care a stitch about a ragged waif like him. He may as well have been invisible.
The blast of a whistle rang shrilly through the cool autumn air. A mighty roar came from the huge steam engine, and a chorus of excited voices cheered as it was seen rolling up to the station. This was the minute they had all been waiting for. Some of them were looking for a loved one to get off of the big train. Others were waiting impatiently to get on board and take a journey of their own. But the lad sat still, waiting for no one and nothing in particular.
To him, all of the vibrant faces around him were dear. They were nameless and completely strange to him, but he loved them as if they were all his friends. That was just Timothy's way. No, really, it was Christ's way. And the love of God was clear to see shining through the child's brilliant eyes.
Even though Tim sat as still as stone, he really did have a plan. His eyes didn't wander up and down the station without a purpose. Soon, the very thing he was watching for happened. With shuffling hurried steps, a man ran past the child, never paying him any heed. The burly fellow was searching for his ticket and muttering anxiously to himself. As his hands went in and out of his pockets, he accidentally pulled out a handkerchief. Without his notice, it fluttered away and landed on the ground behind him.
Timothy's eyes shimmered. Like a cat pouncing on a mouse, he suddenly darted out of his hiding place and seized the white cloth before a single foot could tread on it. A thrill of joy ran through his heart. Most street boys would have tucked that handkerchief secretly into their pocket and sold it to buy a morsel of bread. But that never crossed Tim's mind. Instead, he held the thing high in the air and began to run, shouting, "Sir, ya lost this! Sir, wait! If ya please!" His swift feet caught up with the man just before the fellow boarded the train. "Wait! Wait!" Timothy cried, tugging on the man's sleeve.
With a startled look, the man whirled around. "Who are you?" he demanded gruffly. "What do you want?"
Tim gave an undaunted smile. "Ya dropped this, sir! An' I'm glad I caught ya in time, 'cause I ain't allowed on the train, an' ya woulda lost it for good if you'd gone away!"
"What?" The man looked puzzled as Tim pushed the white handkerchief into his hand.
"Ya see, sir, it's yer own hanky safe an' sound it is!" the boy explained cheerfully. "An' it ain't even too soiled!"
Still bewildered, the man looked down at the handkerchief and saw his own initials embroidered at the corner. "By jingo! It is mine!" he laughed at last. "Well, fancy that! There's a good lad for finding it. Now, I suppose you want something for your trouble, don't you? Of course, you do. Here, take this quickly." In haste, the man shoved his handkerchief back into one pocket and pulled out a shiny coin from another. But to his surprise, the boy shrank away at the sight of it.
"Oh, no sir! I didn't do it t' get paid!" the lad objected.
"What? Don't be ridiculous! Take it for goodness sake!" the man chuckled in perplexity. "There, goodbye now. And thank you!"
Timothy couldn't resist. The coin was pressed into his hand, and the man was gone in an instant. For a moment, the child stood, looking amazed at the quick trade he had made. A lost handkerchief for a penny? His heart suddenly filled with joy.
I didn't want no pay, goodness knows, he told himself. I only did it 'cause it was right. But... He smiled down at his coin and tucked it safely into his own pocket. ...I'm awful glad to 'ave it!
He ran back to his post with a laugh, and once again he waited. His heart was all aglow with happiness as he eagerly watched the passersby. He sat there for a very long time. But before he found another person to help, someone else found him.
"What are you doing loitering about?" a peevish voice asked. Tim found himself looking up at a thin, unfriendly looking man with a fine brown suit, polished shoes, and a look of refinement about him.
The lad smiled. "If that's like sulkin', I promise I weren't doin' it," he giggled innocently. "I was just sittin' 'ere finkin' t' meself as 'appily as ever I could! An' I was watchin' t' see if I could 'elp anyone."
The man's eyebrows raised. "Oh, so you like to help people, do you?" he asked.
"Very much, sir! Can I 'elp you?" The child's clear, intelligent eyes stared straight into the man's with a look which rather pleased the fellow.
"Perhaps you can," he answered with a half-smile. "I have just stepped off of the train, and I hear that I will have to wait twenty-five minutes before someone comes to help me with my luggage. If you take as much as you can carry and bear it carefully to the coach, I will give you a penny. Agreed?"
The child's smile grew sweeter. "Ah sir, t'aint much t' ask," he said humbly. "I'd do it wivout the penny, an' I'd do it right gladly too!"
"But I didn't agree to let you handle my luggage for nothing. I offered to pay you a penny. You will take it, or you won't do the job at all. Make up your mind quickly, I am in a hurry."
The man sounded very serious and impatient. It took Timothy aback. But in just a second, he recovered his smile. "Right, sir!" he agreed, bouncing up willingly. "I'll do it for a penny, an' I'll do it quick! Where's yer luggage, sir?"
"It is by the train. But not so fast!" the man said briskly. "Do you think I would hire you without even getting acquainted first?"
Tim cocked his head curiously. "I dunno, sir. What's 'quainted? An' if it ain't heavy, I'm willin' t' bet I can carry it too!"
"Oh, bosh! You don't even know proper English. Do you never go to school?" the man grumbled.
"Ah, sir!" the child laughed. "The likes o' me go t' school? I ain't never been. But I sit on the church's doorstep of a Sunday mornin', an' I learn lots an' lots when I listen t' the minister there! I put every word he says t' memory. Least ways, I try to! Just listen t' this, sir; I learned it this very mornin': 'The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof but canst not tell whence it cometh, and wither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the spirit.' Now that's poetry, sir. Once, I 'eard a lady sayin' nice fings like that, an' I asks her what she was a-sayin', an' she says, 'Why, that's poetry!' So, I know this must be poetry too!"
"For goodness sake, do you always talk this much?" the impatient gentleman asked. "I really haven't the time for it! My name is Charles Hannover. I own an inn and two of the best hotels in town, and I am running late. Now, tell me your name without delay and then help me carry my things."
His impatience stunned the cheerful boy for an instant. "Oh...course, sir," the lad answered in surprise. "Me name's Timothy."
"Come, come, I'm a proper man. Don't give me short answers. Your name is Timothy what?"
"Oh no, sir! You've got it all wrong," the boy giggled. "Me name ain't Timothy Wot. It's just Timothy. I ain't got none o' them other names what fancy gen'elmen like you've got."
"Bosh! Nonsense! Everyone has a surname, from The Queen of England to the lowest pauper on the street." Mr. Hannover grunted.
Tim laughed. "But I 'aven't," he insisted.
"Very well. It's all the same to me. My luggage is right over there. And by this time, I could have had that other young man's help. But go along. We agreed on a penny. Run and fetch those things here."
Timothy ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. Then he started grabbing bags as fast and as carefully as he could. He tucked one under each arm and grabbed two in each hand. Then he tromped quickly and clumsily back.
Hannover smirked. "There's one more," he noted with a humored chuckle. "By the way you were loading yourself like a workhorse, I half expected you to balance it on your head so none were left behind!"
"I'll try that next time!" Timothy said, taking the joke as a well-meant suggestion.
"Not on my account, I hope. A thoroughness in efficiency must always be balanced by carefulness and quality. Remember that, and I think you will be a fine workman."
"Beg pardon, sir?" Tim asked in confusion.
"Never mind. I will carry that last bag myself," Hannover answered with another laugh. He could have taken several of the bags, and then little Timothy wouldn't have been quite as weighed down. But he didn't. He seemed to be taking pleasure in watching the little boy's struggle. In his mind, Charles Hannover was running an experiment.
Extraordinary! he kept musing to himself. The child is a human draft horse! Granted, he's a pathetically thin fellow; what little he has is all muscle! And just when I am sure he has had more of a load than he can bear, he rallies his strength and trudges on like a warrior. When, I wonder, will the little thing start complaining? Those bags are half his own height! I didn't pack them lightly either.
Mr. Hannover's carriage was quite a distance away, and Timothy had a long walk ahead of him. He gripped the handles of the bags hard enough to turn his knuckles white, huffing and puffing as he bore his load. But he never once whined about the heaviness of those bags.
When they finally reached the carriage, Hannover gave a grim kind of smile. "Satisfactory," the gentleman stated with a nod. "But I still need help. Get into the carriage, and help me carry this luggage to my dwelling, and I will give you another penny. Agreed?" He watched Tim set the bags down carefully and look up at him with curious eyes. "Why are you stalling? Are you so lazy as to think that a great and laborious task?"
"Oh no, sir!" the little boy exclaimed. "That is, I wouldn't turn it down 'cause o' laziness, sir! But...but did ya really offer me another penny? A whole tuppence?"
"IF you perform your job well. You have already earned one penny. Do this job flawlessly, and I will give you another. But for goodness sake, make up your mind quickly and stop gawking! I have a business to run!"
A smile brightened Timothy's face."I'll do it, sir! An' gladly too!"
Author's Note: Hello and welcome! I am so excited to be sharing this extended preview of my novel with you! I really hope you enjoy reading it. If you do, please consider giving the chapters a vote and leaving me some comments. I love getting to connect with all of you and hear your thoughts. I'll be trying to post a new chapter every week until the preview is over. The Treasure of Netherstrand is the first of two Christian mystery books. Its sequel, The Gentleman's Treasure, is getting so close to its release date! I'll keep you posted about that! Take care, and I'll see you next week!