On the Trail to Moonlight Gulch Read Online Free Page A

surrounding factories and offices filled the many kiosks at the carnival. The smells of hotdogs, pretzels, and roasted corn made Tory’s stomach rumble. He suggested they get something to eat. They bought a bag of peanut brittle from a vendor wearing a clown outfit and sat on a bench to people-watch. Organ music grinded in the background.
    “What a wonderful and unexpected treat,” Joseph said, laughing. “I haven’t attended a carnival since I was a boy. It reminds me of Coney Island.”
    “Once the weather warms, it’ll be much nicer.”
    “It’s perfect the way it is.” Joseph gazed at Tory. Tory flushed. Their hands brushed each other as they shared the bag of peanut brittle. But Joseph appeared unfazed.
    Flocks of pigeons gathered by their feet. Tory tossed them pieces of brittle. Joseph seemed amused. To Tory, their moment together was worth all the peanut brittle in the world.
    Joseph spotted a game called Pitch Out, and, tossing the remaining crumbs in his hand onto the ground where the pigeons swarmed them, he encouraged Tory to follow him.
    “Step up, step up,” the vendor cried. “Get a baseball in the hole, win a stuffed animal. Five cents for five tries. Step up.”
    “I’ll have a go at it.” Joseph handed the vendor a nickel.
    The first four throws came close to entering the hole cut in the catcher’s glove, but on his fifth and final throw, the baseball entered the hole squarely. Joseph and Tory cheered. The vendor tossed Joseph a stuffed bear. With a grin, Joseph handed the prize to Tory. “For being such a grand host,” he said.
    Tory simpered. Cradling the bear, he held his tongue about his prized baseball skills. Tory, who played baseball with his chums at least once a week, most likely would have made each of the five throws. He valued Joseph’s kindness more than his own ego.
    “There’s my favorite ride.” Tory pointed to the mine train rising in the distance on the edge of the river. “I had no idea they had one of those. I rode my first one last year in Wicker Park.”
    “Well, then, come on.” Joseph grabbed Tory’s arm and ushered him along. After waiting in line for ten minutes, they paid the attendant four cents and climbed inside the car. A steam-powered pulley lifted them along the wooden track. From the top, the sprawl of the city astonished them. They both took off their derbies. Tory covered the stuffed bear with his hat and latched onto his elbows in anticipation of the freefall. In an instant, gravity raced them down the first and largest drop. Wind whipped at their faces. They rolled over two bunny hops until reaching a slow stop.
    “I have to say,” Joseph said as they climbed out of the car, “I hadn’t expected this much fun when I set off for Chicago Thursday night. I thought it would all be dull work.”
    Tory’s heart kindled while he absorbed Joseph’s soft gaze. The nippy air seemed insignificant against the warm thoughtfulness flowing through him. They explored more of the carnival, and with a gentle tug, Tory suggested they best return home, since he knew his mother was preparing a special goose for supper.
    As they headed home, Tory used the bustle of pedestrians as an excuse to brush against Joseph. The more he bumped into him, the more Joseph seemed to reciprocate by leaning closer. Eventually, he and Tory walked up Market Street with their arms hooked around each other’s like old chums.
    Like the two friends depicted in Walt Whitman’s poem.

Chapter 3

    L ONG after the last lantern in the house had been extinguished, Tory sat by the open window in his bedroom and stared at the glowing, pulsating city. He barely noticed the chilly air or the waxing moon that cast deep shadows along the alley. Doubt, mixed with exhilaration, stirred him. Had he read Joseph correctly? Had he only imagined that Joseph was interested in more than friendship?
    Joseph, thoughtful and debonair, a man of fine breeding, had expressed his words and gestures in the