He knew exactly where each case should be, unless, perchance, there had been some addition made to the collection since his departure from home; and, although it was dark, proceeded without difficulty until he arrived at one corner of the yard, where, by pulling out an unusually large box, he disclosed a narrow passage running along the side of the fence.
It was not possible to walk upright through this opening, owing to the lumber above; but, once Master Carrots arrived at the further end, he found as snug and comfortable a dwelling as it would be reasonable for any boy in Master Carrots's walk of life to desire.
Two cases, facing each other at an interval sufficiently wide for a small person to enter, formed an apartment four or five feet square; and, although it was impossible for Carrots even to stand erect, he could sit or lie down in a most comfortable fashion.
A small bundle of straw, taken from some of the other cases, made a bed for the bootblack; and directly opposite this impromptu couch were Carrots's household treasures.
A bottle which served as a candlestick, a cigar-box as pantry in case he chanced to lay in a stock of provisions, a well-worn brush, several empty blacking-boxes, and a miscellaneous collection of odds and ends, were packed in one corner with the utmost neatness.
On arriving at his home, Carrots lighted the candle in order to render the apartment more cheerful; and then he sat down with his chin in hishands, trying to decide how it would be possible to keep the promise made to Teddy.
TEENIE MASSEY'S EVENING CALL AT CARROTS'S RESIDENCE.TEENIE MASSEY'S EVENING CALL AT CARROTS'S RESIDENCE.
Before he had succeeded in solving the problem, however, a shrill whistle was heard from the alleyway, and Carrots muttered to himself as he crawled through the passage out from among the boxes:
"I wonder what Teenie Massey wants? A feller that's got so much business on his hands as I have can't 'ford to waste a great deal of time with visitors."
"Hi! Carrots, are you there?" Teenie asked.
"Of course I am! Where do you s'pose a feller would be at this time of night?"
"I'm comin' over!"
"Well, come, then; an' don't make so much noise about it. Nobody knows who may be 'round here;" and Master Carrots retraced his steps to the packing-case dwelling.
It could be understood that Teenie was a frequent visitor by the familiar manner in which he threaded his way amid the obstacles before reaching Carrots's very retired residence.
"Old man," said Teenie, "this is ever so much nicer a place to live in than a reg'lar house."
"Yes," the host replied, grimly; "'specially when the nights are cold, or it rains. I s'pose you'd rather have the water comin' in on you than not, when you're asleep, wouldn't you?"
"Well, I didn't mean it jest that way," Teenie replied; "but when you get in here an' have the candle lighted, it allers seems mighty fine. I got mother to let me come down an' stay all night with you."
"There! that's jest what I thought you was up to," Carrots said, in rather a cross tone.
"Why, what's the matter? Don't you want me?" Teenie asked in surprise.
"Of course I'm glad to have you come, Teenie; but I am busy to-night, an' talkin' with you is bound to upset things."
"What are you doin'?"
"You see, I took the job of gettin' that feller from Saranac out er thestation-house; an' it's goin' to be a pretty hard one, I'm 'fraid, as things are lookin' now. If I can get him clear of the scrape, you'll see some fun one of these days, 'cause this thing ain't goin' to stop here, I'll tell you that. I only wish I knew what ought ter be done."
"How have you been tryin' to fix it?"
"Well, I've talked with some of the fellers that saw the row, to get 'em to go down to court an' tell how it happened; but they're so terribly 'fraid of Skip they don't dare to say their souls are their own."
"Well, I do," Teenie replied, bravely. "I saw the whole of the scrap, 'cause I was there before it began."
"Will you tell that when the chap's brought inter court to-morrow mornin'?"
"'Course I will, if you'll stand by me in case Skip tries to come his funny business; 'cause that's what he says he's goin' to do to anybody who helps the feller from the country."
"I'll stand by you, Teenie, if that's what you want; an' if we do get Teddy clear, there'll be three of us. Skip won't dare to tackle as big a crowd as that."
"No; but you see the feller ain't out, an' I can't figger how it's goin' to be done."
"We'll tell the judge jest what we saw."
"I don't b'lieve we'll get the chance. They wouldn't let you go anywhere near him, 'less you had a lawyer."
"We'vegotto fix it somehow."
"Why not get a lawyer?"
"Now you're goin' crazy, Teenie Massey. It costs as much as a dollar toget one of them fellows to go to court. They come high!"
"Don't you s'pose you could hire one, an' let him take it out in trade?"
"By jiminy! I never thought of that. I wonder if I couldn't?"
"It wouldn't do any harm to try. I sell papers to a man that would come an' 'tend to the whole business, I guess, if you'd 'gree to black his boots so many times a week."
"I'd 'gree to black him all over, if he'd do what I want. Where does he hang out?"
"I'll show you in the mornin'. Been to supper?"
"Yes; had a little spread up to Delmonico's. It wasn't much, an' charlotte roosters an' sich things as that ain't fillin', you know."
"I kinder thought you might be hungry, so I got mother to do up a lunch." And Teenie drew from his pocket a small parcel of cold roast meat, adding to it from another pocket five boiled eggs.
"Say, we'll have a reg'lar lay-out, won't we?" Carrots said, as he surveyed the food with the keenest pleasure.
"Now I reckon you can kind er ease up on your business long enough to 'tend to this stuff, can't you?" Teenie answered.
"Well, I should say so! You're a brick, Teenie, an' I wish you'd come every night."
"Business would have to be pretty good if I was goin' to have such a spread as this right along. I've been to supper, so you pitch in."
"S'pose we put it away for a while? It hasn't been so long since I ate that lot o' quails, you know; and I can hold on a spell, an' we'll be hungry before we're ready to go to sleep."
Teenie was satisfied; and he reclined carelessly in one corner of the packing-case home, enjoying himself to the utmost.
Carrots followed his example, and soon the two were busily engaged discussing the probable outcome of Teddy's case, as well as the possibility of engaging a lawyer upon the condition of his being willing to accept the fee "in trade."
Not until a late hour was the lunch disposed of; and then, nestling into the straw, the two were ready for slumber.
Owing to the peculiar location of his home, and the necessity of keeping his whereabouts a profound secret, Carrots was obliged to arise at a very early hour, in order to leave the residence before any of the clerks in the shop should arrive. Therefore it was that the host and his guest were on the street shortly after sunrise.
Of course it would have been folly to look for the attorney in his office at such an hour, and the possibility of doing any business before seven or eight o'clock was so slight that Carrots, with the recklessness of a spendthrift, invited his friend to a breakfast at Mose Pearson's, even though it involved an expenditure of fully one-fifth of his entire wealth.
"We'll kind er need somethin' to brace us up," he said, in explanation of his generous invitation.
As a matter of course, Master Massey was not proof against the kind hospitality, and so he very willingly followed his friend to Mr. Pearson's establishment, which was located in the basement of a dwelling on Baxter Street.
When the boys, leisurely, and with the air of capitalists, sauntered out on the street once more, they looked thoroughly contented with the world in general, and themselves in particular.
"We'd better get up somewhere near the lawyer's office before that Skip Jellison comes 'round," Teenie said.
Carrots recognized the wisdom of this advice at once; and the two, keeping a sharp lookout lest Master Jellison should spring upon them unawares, made their way to Centre Street, where for an hour and a half they waited in the hallway of the building in which the lawyer with whom Teenie was acquainted had an office.
On his arrival it was evident the gentleman did not recognize them as two possible clients, for he passed without even a nod to the boy who claimed to be his friend, entered the office, and closed the door behind him.
"Why, he doesn't even know you!" Carrots exclaimed, in a tone of reproach.
"Oh, yes, he does; but you see it's kind er dark in here, an' I s'pose he couldn't see my face very well, or he didn't notice."
"What are you goin' to do 'bout it?"
"Wait till he gets settled, an' then we'll go up an' call on him. You do the talkin', while I stand back an' 'gree to all you say."
Now that they were where the scheme could be carried into execution, Carrots was by no means confident it would be a success, and actually felt rather timid about making the attempt; but, urged on by Teenie, he finally mustered up courage to open the door of the office. He stood on the threshold, gazing first at the attorney and then back at his friend.
"Well, what do you want?" the gentleman asked, looking inquiringly at the boy.
This question appeared to restore to Carrots a certain portion of his self-possession, and he entered the room, standing in the middle of the floor as he beckoned to his friend to follow.
"What do you want?" the lawyer asked again, impatiently.
"Well, you see—I come—we want—"
"Out with it. What did you come for?"
Teenie nudged his friend from behind, as a sign that he should speak up promptly; and Carrots, catching his breath much as one does after a plunge in cold water, began:
"There's a feller what walked down from Saranac, that's goin' to be took inter the Tombs court this mornin' for fightin' in City Hall Park, an' we've come to see how much it would cost to hire you to git him out."
"I might defend him, but I couldn't agree to get him out. That depends on the judge."
"Well, you could make the talk, an' I reckon when the thing's put up right they'll have to let him go, 'cause he didn't do anything."
"'IT WAS JEST LIKE THIS,' SAID CARROTS.""'IT WAS JEST LIKE THIS,' SAID CARROTS."
"Suppose you tell me the whole story, and I shall be better able to judge what they may be obliged to do."
"It was jest like this: You see, Skip he come up an' hit Teddy in the jaw, and Teddy tried to hit back. Skip let out with a left-hander;Teddy warded it off. Then Skip jumped; down went the papers. Skip got frightened of a cop; he started to run, Teddy after him, an' Teddy was 'rested, and that's all there is 'bout it."
"That may be the whole of the story; but I must confess I don't understand it yet."
"Why, it's plain enough. You see, Skip he struck out, an' Teddy warded it off—"
"Now wait a moment. Tell me which boy is arrested."
"Why, Teddy, of course. You don't s'pose we'd come here if it had been Skip? I wish itwas. He'd stay there a good while, for allI'dcare."
"Who is this Teddy?"
"He's a feller what walked down from Saranac, an' got here yesterday mornin'; but jest as he was goin' to sell papers up jumped Skip, 'cause he thinks he owns the whole town, an' 'lowed he was goin' to clean Teddy right out. Now, I never did think Skip could fight any great deal, 'cause how was it when he was over to Brooklyn, an' that feller tackled him?"
"Try to tell me the story as I want to hear it. You say Teddy was arrested?"
"Why, it's worse'n that! He's in the station-house!"
"Certainly; if he is arrested. On what charge was he taken?"
"Eh?"
"I mean why did the officer take him?"
"Why? 'Cause the park policeman said he was fightin'; but he wasn't. Hewas only beginnin'. He might uv licked Skip, too, if they'd let him alone. I know by the way he put up his hands."
"Then it seems, according to your story, that he really was fighting."
"How could he, when he hadn't even commenced? Skip hit him, an' knocked the papers out er his hands, an' then he was goin' to lick Skip, but didn't have time."
The attorney was a patient man, and, possibly, the boy's manner of telling the story amused him; therefore he continued asking questions, preventing any detailed account of previous quarrels which Skip might have had, until he was in possession of all the important facts, when he asked:
"Do you know what a lawyer usually charges for such a case as this?"
"Now you're comin' right down to dots!" Carrots said, beginning to feel more at ease since the attorney treated him in such a friendly fashion. "You see, this feller hasn't got any money, an' I don't claim to be a millionaire myself. I know lawyers charge a good deal for doin' a little o' nothin'; but I thought if you'd kind er take it out in trade, we might make a bargain."
"What business are you in?"
"I shine boots; an' if you'll get this feller out er the scrape, I'll come in here an' black your boots every mornin' this year, for nothin'. You can't make a better trade'n that if you should look 'round a good while."
"That is quite a contract you are proposing."
"I know it; but you see I want ter make it an object for you to get Teddy out."
"That can be done only in the proper manner. The question is whether you have any witnesses to prove that this boy was not really fighting, and that he had sufficient provocation to excuse his trying to thrash the other one."
"Sufficient what?"
"Provocation. That is, whether what had been done was enough to warrant an attempt to whip this other boy; for, as I understand it, that is really what he did try to do."
"Why, of course; he had to. How'd you like it if a feller sneaked up an' whacked you in the face when you wasn't doin' anything, an' knocked your papers in the mud."
"It wouldn't be very pleasant, I'll admit; but how can you prove that such was the case? Who saw the beginning of the trouble?"
"I did, an' Teenie, an' lots of other fellers; but they wouldn't dare to tell it for fear Skip might thump 'em. He calls hisself a fighter."
"Then you two are willing to run the risk, and tell your story in court, are you?"
"Of course we are; but will you go an' get him out?"
"Suppose I should take this case, and spend an hour or two on it, how do I know you would come here each morning to black my boots, as you propose?"
"How do you know? Why, ain't Teenie here, an' don't he hear what I say? That's enough to make a trade if you've got a witness, ain't it?"
"Yes, I suppose it is," the lawyer replied, laughingly. "I don't see any other way for me but to take the case. Go to the Tombs, and wait there until I come."
"You'll be sure to be on hand before they bring him down, eh?"
"I won't neglect it."
With this assurance the boys left the office, and, once on the outside, Carrots said to his friend, in a tone of relief:
"Well, now that's fixed, an' I guess we needn't bother any more 'bout Teddy's gettin' out; but there'll be an awful row when Skip hears what we've done, an' you an' I've got to stand right 'longside of each other if he tries any funny business. We must look out for him."
This suggestion that they would stand together against Teddy's enemy was far from displeasing to Master Massey.
In the seclusion of the packing-case home he could talk boldly about what Skip might yet be able to do; but once on the street, where it was possible to meet the bully at any moment, the matter assumed a different aspect, and he began to realize the danger in which he had thus voluntarily placed himself.
"It won't do for us to hang 'round here, 'cause he's likely to come any minute," Teenie said, in a tremulous tone. "I think we'd better go down to the Tombs, an' then we'll be on hand when the lawyer wants us."
This was a very good idea, and Carrots led the way at a rapid pace, both taking heed lest they should accidentally meet Skip.
Carrots and Teenie succeeded in reaching the Tombs without being intercepted by Skip; and once there, they were unable to determine whether the court was in session.
In the vicinity of the judge's desk a number of men were standing, apparently talking on different subjects, and in the seats reserved for the spectators a few unfortunate-looking persons lounged.
"Well, the feller ain't been brought in yet, that's certain," Carrots said, gazing around the room in a vain search for his new acquaintance.
"Do you s'pose they will put handcuffs on him?" Teenie asked, in a tone of awe. "I reckon he'd be jest about crazy if they'd send him up to the Island."
"It would start 'most anybody up to take a dose like that; but of course it won't happen now we've got the lawyer. I tell you he'll be s'prised to see how we've fixed things, won't he?"
"Indeed he will; an' Skip'll be hoppin' mad whenheknows. We want ter keep pretty close together while we're workin' this."
The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the sergeant who had been seen at the station-house, and Carrots went swiftly toward him,asking, as he halted in front of the officer:
"Did you bring that feller down yet?"
"He will come in the van with the rest of the prisoners."
"You won't forget that you promised to try an' fix it?"
"I said I would see that the officer wasn't hard on him. I can'tfixanything. Have you got your witnesses here?"
"Yes; Teenie's one, an' I'm another, an' we've hired a reg'lar lawyer."
"You have? Who?"
"A man by the name of Varney."
"Well, if he is coming I reckon you will be all right, unless you have a bad case; and from what the roundsman told me the fighting didn't amount to much."
"There wasn'tanyof it! You see, Skip he give Teddy one in the face, an' then sent in a left-hander, an' Teddy he—"
"Never mind the story. I don't want to hear it, for I haven't the time," the officer said, as he started toward the judge's bench.
Half an hour elapsed, and then the boys suddenly saw their new friend within a sort of iron cage at one end of the room.
"There he is!" Teenie whispered, excitedly. "How do you s'pose he got in without our seein' him?"
Carrots stood erect and gazed at the prisoner a moment, as if debating whether to approach him or not.
Teddy presented a most forlorn appearance, standing aloof from theother prisoners as far as possible, and clinging to the iron bars, his usually clean face begrimed with dirt, through which the flowing tears had plowed tiny canals until he looked not unlike a small-sized Indian in war-paint.
This picture of sorrow made a deep impression on Carrots's tender heart, and, regardless of whether he might be able to regain his seat, he marched toward the prisoners' cage.
Teddy had seen him coming, and stepped forward in the hope of speaking with this boy who had proved himself to be a real friend; but before a single word could be uttered, the officer interrupted the visitor by saying roughly:
"Get back there!"
"But I've got to talk with that feller."
"Get back there! Do you hear what I tell you?" and he made a threatening gesture which was not at all terrifying to the self-possessed Carrots.
"I've got to talk with this feller; he's a friend of mine, an' I ain't seen him since last night. He's goin' to get right out, too, 'cause he didn't do anything, an' wouldn't have been brought here if he'd had sense enough to run when they hollered 'Cops!' It was jest this way: Skip, he struck out an' hit him in the face, an' then come in with a left-hander—"
Carrots had been advancing while speaking, and at this point the officer seized him by one shoulder, spinning him around until he was heading in the direction from which he had come.
"If you make any attempt to speak to that boy, I'll put you in with him! What are you doing here, anyhow? Are you a witness?"
"Course I am. What else do you s'pose? Why, I've got to tell the judge all 'bout how this thing happened. You see, I was right there, an' when Skip come in with a left-hander, an' Teddy he warded it off—"
Carrots did not finish the sentence, for the officer gave him a push which might have thrown him headlong but for the fact that Teenie chanced to be in the way, and thus prevented the fall.
"I guess we'd better get back to the settee," Carrots said, looking at the officer an instant, as if to make out whether the latter was really in earnest in this last movement.
Carrots was whispering to Teenie his opinion of the officer in charge of the prisoners when the lawyer arrived; and then for the first time did Teddy's friends learn that court had been in session all the while since they entered.
It was a positive relief to see the attorney; and, lest the latter should think those who employed him had not followed the directions given, Carrots made his presence known by going up to the gentleman in the most confidential manner, and announcing cheerfully: "We're here."
"Yes, I see you are. Sit down. I'll call you when you're wanted."
"But are you sure you remember what I told you 'bout how it happened? You don't want to forget that Skip jumped in an' hit Teddy in the face,and then come in with a left—"
"You shall be asked to tell that story, my boy, presently; but just now I don't care to hear it, and haven't the time. Sit down until your name is called."
"I'm afraid that lawyer don't 'mount to much," Carrots whispered to Teenie as he obeyed the gentleman's command. "It seems like he's puttin' on a good many airs, an' don't want ter listen to how the thing happened. Now I don't b'lieve any man can fix it with the judge, 'less he's got the whole thing down fine."
"The sergeant said he was all right, an' he ought ter know; so I reckon we can 'ford to wait," Teenie replied, contentedly.
It seemed to the impatient Carrots as if it must have been nearly noon when he heard the clerk call the name "Theodore Thurston;" and, an instant later, the young prisoner from Saranac was conducted to the dock.
Almost at the same moment Skip Jellison, accompanied by several of his most intimate friends, entered the room, and immediately became aware that Carrots and Teenie were in attendance.
Without hesitation, and, as if such scenes were perfectly familiar to him, Master Skip approached Teddy's friends in an easy, careless fashion, as he asked:
"What are you two doin' here?"
"Came down to see how the new feller gets along. Don't s'pose you've got any 'bjections, have you?" Carrots replied.
"I don't know whether I have or not."
"Well, after you find out jest give me the word, 'cause we're bound todust whenever you give us the tip."
It was evident to Master Jellison that Carrots was speaking sarcastically, and he took no further notice of this insolence, save to say, warningly:
"You want to mind your eye, that's all! The feller what tries to help that chump along is goin' to get inter trouble."
"Same's you did over to Brooklyn the other day, eh?" Carrots asked coolly.
"Wait till I catch you outside, an' we'll see if you've got anything more to say 'bout Brooklyn!" And with this threat Master Jellison and his friends advanced to a settee nearer the judge, where they seated themselves with a great show of what was probably intended to be dignity.
"He's come to see if we're goin' to tell anything 'bout the row," Teenie whispered; and it could plainly be seen that Master Massey was very much frightened regarding the probable outcome of thus attempting to aid the stranger.
At that moment Carrots was startled out of his self-possession—although he had come especially as a witness—by hearing his name called in a loud tone.
Three times the clerk shouted "Joseph Williams," and then Carrots exclaimed:
"By jiminy! he means me, doesn't he?"
"Of course he does. Go 'long quick, or else that feller'll be up on the Island before they know you're here," said Teenie.
It was necessary the witness should pass Skip Jellison on his way to the stand; and, in so doing, he saw Teddy's enemy scowl and shake his fist in the most threatening manner.
"Don't get excited," Carrots stopped long enough to say. "You're comin' out of it all right, even if you don't feel very good now."
Then he continued on until some one directed him which way to go; and for the first time in his life he laid his hand on a Bible, and swore to tell "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
If, as is extremely probable, Skip had come for the purpose of hearing what was said, he was disappointed, as are nearly all the visitors to the Tombs court, where it is an impossibility for one on the spectators' benches to distinguish any remark made either by the judge or the witness, unless the latter chances to have a particularly clear voice.
Those inside the railing, however, could understand quite distinctly all that was said; and, judging from their mirth, Carrots's examination must have been to them an amusing one.
On being asked his name, the witness replied, "Carrots;" and then the judge glowered down upon him until he realized that he previously answered to that of "Joseph Williams."
After having made the proper correction, and before it was possible for any one to ask him a question, Carrots leaned toward the magistrate in a confidential and friendly manner, as he began:
"You see, Judge, it was jest like this: Skip he jumped in an' hit Teddy one in the face, an' then come back with a left-hander; but Teddy warded it off, an' then—"
"Stop!" the judge cried, severely. "When I want you to tell the story I will ask for it. Did you see this boy fighting in the park?"
"He wasn't fightin' at all. He didn't have time, for the park policeman caught him. You see, it was jest this way: Skip he jumped in an' smashed Teddy in the face, an' then come with a left-hander—"
Again was the witness interrupted; and this time Mr. Varney stepped forward to where he could say in a low tone to Carrots:
"You must simply answer the judge's questions—not attempt to tell the story yourself."
"Yes, sir; but how'll he know what's what if I don't give him the whole right through?" Carrots asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Attend to what he says, and don't try to tell anything else."
"What was this boy doing when the policeman arrested him?" the judge asked, as he looked sternly at the witness.
"He wasn't doin' nothin', 'cause he didn't have time. You see, Skip run as soon as he hit him, an' knocked his papers down, an' then—"
"Did the prisoner go in pursuit of the boy whom you call Skip?"
"Course he did; 'cause, you see, Skip knocked his papers in the mud, an' hit him once in the face; an' he would have come in with a left-hander,if Teddy hadn't warded it off."
"What was the prisoner doing when this boy struck him?"
"He was sellin' a paper to a man in a horse-car. You see, Skip he 'lowed that Teddy couldn't run the business in New York; but Teddy he walked 'way down from Saranac jest to get a livin', an' Skip don't have any right to tell fellers whether they're to work or not."
"Had the prisoner said anything to this boy who struck him?"
"No; you see, he didn't have time. Skip jumped right in an' hit him once in the face, an'—"
"Now, don't tell that story again. Had there been any quarrel between these two?"
"No, sir; you see, Teddy didn't come in town till this mornin', an' he never knew Skip from a side of sole-leather."
"Is he a friend of yours?"
"Well, I s'pose he is," Carrots replied, hesitatingly. "You see, when he got into trouble, somebody had to help him out, an' there didn't seem to be anybody willin' but me. He ought ter be my friend if I'm goin' to black the lawyer's boots a whole year jest to pay for this racket."
"If your honor will allow me, I will tell the story as I have managed to extract it—I use the word 'extract' advisedly—from this witness and his friend," the lawyer said, as he advanced a few paces amid the smiles of all those near the bench.
"Do you wish to explain about your fee?" the judge asked, laughingly.
"Perhaps that is hardly necessary, since lawyers are seldom known to refuse anything offered in the way of payment. That was the proposition made by the witness and witnessed by his friend."
Then the attorney related what had occurred in his office, to the no slight amusement of those who could hear him; and, when he concluded, the judge turned to Carrots again, looking very much more friendly than before.
"Then you assure me on your oath that the prisoner did not fight with the other boy in City Hall Park?"
"Why, no; how could he? He didn't get the chance. You see, Skip hit him in the face, an' then come in with a left-hander; but Teddy warded it off, and then Skip run. The policeman grabbed Teddy too quick, you see. I reckon he'd have paid Skip off in great shape, 'cause I b'lieve he can do it."
"Then you admit that he would have fought if he had had the opportunity?"
"Of course he would! S'posin' a feller smashed you in the neck, an' knocked your papers in the mud, wouldn't you fight? I guess you would!"
"I will do the questioning, and you can confine yourself to answering," said the judge.
"That's all I was doin', sir," Carrots replied, a trifle abashed by the change which came over the judge's face at his free manner of speaking.
Then it seemed as if the witness was entirely forgotten. Nobody paidthe slightest attention to him until fully five minutes later, when the lawyer beckoned for him to come down from the stand to where he was speaking in a low tone with Teddy.
"You can go now," the gentleman said; "and I shall be curious to learn how long you will keep the promise made in regard to blacking my boots."
"Well, what are you goin' to do with Teddy?" Carrots asked, a look of disappointment coming over his face as he fancied that the prisoner was not to be set free.
"He has been discharged. It is all right now. Go out with him, and be careful not to get into any more trouble on the street, for it might go hard with you if either came here the second time."
"He's discharged—did you say?" Carrots repeated. "Does that mean he can go anywhere he wants to?"
"Certainly."
"Well, you're a dandy! I'll live right up to the 'greement I made, an' don't you forget it!" Carrots replied enthusiastically, and then, as the lawyer turned away, presumably to attend to his own business, the amateur Good Samaritan led Teddy from the room, closely followed by Teenie, who said, when they were once more on the outside of the building:
"It won't do to loaf 'round here. Skip Jellison an' his gang were jest gettin' up when I come out. They'll be after us if we don't dust 'mighty lively."
"Let's go down by the ferry, where we can kind er straighten things, an' see what we're goin' to do," Carrots suggested.
Teddy was not disposed to run from the enemy; but his companions insisted it would be more than foolish to risk an encounter, and he allowed himself to be led away at a rapid pace.
"Why not go over to your house, Carrots?" Teenie asked. "They'll never find us there."
"I couldn't get in without somebody seein' me, an' I don't want to give the snap away, else the whole thing will be broke up. We can do all the chinnin' we want ter 'round the ferry."
"Seems to me I ought ter go to work. I can't 'ford to fool so much time away now, after I've been kept still so long," Teddy said, gravely. "I came here countin' on makin' money enough every day to live on, an' began by losin' my stock the first thing."
"You ain't lost it yet. I sold every one of your papers, an' have got the money in my pocket to give you."
"You're a mighty good feller, Carrots; an' if ever I can do anything to help you, I'll be glad of the chance."
"All I ask is that you stand 'longside of me when Skip an' his crowd come 'round, 'cause I'll need a friend pretty bad then."
"He sha'n't touch you when I'm near; but I don't see how it's goin' to be stopped, if they 'rest fellers for fightin' in the city," Teddy replied, in a tone of perplexity; and straightway the three were plunged into a maze of bewilderment that the law should interfere by arresting a fellow when he attempted to defend himself, and allow the beginner ofthe trouble to go free.
It seemed to be one of those tangles in the web woven by Justice which older heads than theirs have failed to unravel.
As a matter of course, business was not to be thought of on this day,and for two very good reasons.
First, there was every cause to believe Skip Jellison and his followers would do all they could to prevent the boy from Saranac from engaging in any business; and secondly, because it seemed absolutely necessary Carrots and his friends should discuss the situation.
The boys were forced to earn such food as they might need, or go hungry, and yet Skip Jellison would try to prevent their doing business on the street.
Of course they could stand up and battle for their rights, probably receiving assistance from some of those boys whom Master Jellison had disciplined by the same methods pursued with Teddy; but such a struggle would hinder their business affairs.
If it became necessary to fight every time Teddy sold a paper, not only would the money-making be sadly curtailed, but danger of arrest would be very great.
"I reckon I wouldn't get off as easy if I was hauled up before that judge ag'in," Teddy said to his companion when the two had taken leave of Teenie Massey, and were walking in the direction of the water-front."But I don't see how I'm goin' to get along without fightin', 'less I'm willin' to lie right down an' let Skip Jellison tread on me."
"See here!" Carrots said, suddenly, as if believing he had a thoroughly good plan in mind. "You've allers lived on a farm, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, now I have an idea it would be nice to stay in the country. S'posin' you an' me go right off an' get a job on some farm. That would settle Skip in great shape, an' we 'd have a mighty good time."
"It would settle Skip, there's no question 'bout that," Teddy replied." But when it comes to havin' a good time, you'd find you'd made a big mistake. I've had all the farmin' I want. A feller never'd get ahead in the world if he worked round for nothin' but his board an' clothes on a farm."
"You can't get even that much in the city, 'less you have money to start a reg'lar stand."
"That's jest it! That's jest what a feller wants to do! He ought ter make up his mind he's goin' to have a place, an' buy it. After that he can 'low to have a store, an' get one, too. All he has to do is to work hard, an' save his money for a while."
"I don't know 'bout that," Carrots replied, with a grave shake of his head. "I've tried as hard as any feller to get 'long, but don't own more'n ninety cents in the world to-day."
"Well, I'm going to try it in the city till I make up my mind it can't be done, an' p'rhaps then I'd be willin' to go out on a farm; but it'llbe a good while before that time comes, Carrots. Where are you goin' now?"
"Down on one of these piers, where we can talk without Skip's crowd sneakin' up on us."
By this time they were near Fulton Ferry, and Carrots had but little difficulty, familiar as he was with the locality, in finding what he sought.
A pile of merchandise near the end of a pier afforded many convenient openings in which two boys could stow themselves snugly away without fear of being seen; and, entering one, Carrots proceeded to make himself comfortable by crawling to the very farthest corner, and there lighting a cigarette.
"Say, you're an awful good feller, Carrots," Teddy began, as if he had suddenly made a very important discovery. "You've taken right hold to help me, jest the same's if we'd allers knowed each other, an' done a good deal more'n any chum of mine I ever had. Now, I don't see any way to pay you back yet awhile."
"I don't want to be paid back," Carrots replied, decidedly. "I tried to help you through this thing, 'cause it was a shame to let Skip Jellison have his way, as he allers counts on; an' what I've done isn't much."
"Indeed it is. I'd been on my way to jail now, if you hadn't taken hold of this thing. We've got to straighten matters somehow. In the first place, I want to give back the money you handed me when I was 'rested."
"Better keep it. It may be two or three days before we can do any work."
"But I'd rather start square," Teddy replied, as he counted out the pennies which he had kept carefully apart from his own hoard, and literally forced them upon his companion.
"Well, if you're goin' to square up so straight, I've got a little settlement to make," and Carrots began a problem in arithmetic, using a bit of smooth board as paper, and making the figures thereon with a very short fragment of a lead-pencil. "Now, I sold them papers of yours, and here's the money," he added.
"But some of 'em was so muddy you could not have sold them," Teddy objected.
"Yes, I did; every one. You see, I wiped the mud off, an' then folded em' inside, so's it wouldn't show. It don't pay to let papers spoil jest 'cause there's a little dirt on 'em."
"But it isn't right I should take it," Teddy replied, gravely. "You stopped your work yesterday and to-day jest to help me along, an', of course, haven't earned a cent. Now, the best way will be to give me what I paid out for the papers, an' take the profit yourself, 'cause it really b'longs to you."
"I won't do anything of the kind," Carrots replied, in a tone of determination." It ain't certain as I should have worked yesterday."
"Course you would. You'd begun when I first saw you, an' had earned some money."
"Well, then, that's jest it! I got enough yesterday to keep me, an' by night we'll have some plan to get the best of Skip Jellison."
Teddy insisted that his companion should take the profits resulting from the sale of the newspapers, and Carrots quite as strongly refused to do anything of the kind; therefore the matter necessarily remained unsettled, the boy from Saranac holding the money in trust, as it were.
"Have a cigarette?" Carrots asked, with the air of a man of leisure, as he pulled several from his pocket.
"I don't want any, Carrots. I never smoke."
"What?"
"I don't smoke, and what's more, I ain't goin' to. After all you've done for me, it seems kind er tough that I should turn 'round an' talk to you 'bout spendin' money; but there's one of the very reasons why you ain't got a stand. Instead of hustlin' to make a nickel, you spend one buyin' cigarettes, or else waste a good deal of time standin' on the street smokin'. It would make a big difference if you didn't like sich things; an', besides, it hurts a boy to smoke 'em."
Carrots looked at Teddy in surprise.
He failed to understand why a fellow could not amuse himself smoking cigarettes, and was thoroughly bewildered to hear an argument made as to the expense.
"Well, I'll be jiggered! It looks to me like as if you'd come down here tryin' to be awful too good. I wish I had money enough to buy a glass case to put you in. I reckon I could sell the lot up to the museum."
"That's right; laugh jest as much as you've a mind to, Carrots. You can't make me mad after all you've done; but what I said is true, jestthe same, an' don't you forget it."
"All right," Carrots replied, placidly. "I reckon it won't cost very much till these're gone; so s'posin' we talk 'bout how we're going inter business? Skip's got it in for me now, an' I'll have to shin 'round as lively as you do."
"There's only one thing 'bout it. We must 'tend to work the same's if he wasn't livin'."
"But he'll jump down on us, an' then we'll get into another fight."
"I s'pose that's so. Ain't there some place in the town jest as good for paper-sellin' as 'round the City Hall?"
"Well, I don't know. You see, I've allers worked there, an' am 'quainted with the fellers, so it seems to me it's 'bout the only spot. If you should try down by South Ferry, or 'round here anywhere, everybody'd do their best to drive you out, same's Skip did. Ib'longup to City Hall, so they can't shove me away from there; an' the bootblacks in any place else would raise a row if I come takin' trade away."
"It don't seem as though they'd dare to do such things," said Teddy, thoughtfully. "You've as much right on one street as another."
"That's the way I s'pose it looks to a stranger; but it ain't so, jest the same. Now if a new feller come where I was workin' I'd turn in with the others to drive him off, of course."
"Then how does a new boy like me start?"
"He has ter hustle, an' take it rough, same's you're doin'. When theothers find out you're bound to stick, they'll let you alone."
"Then, in that case, the sooner we 'tend to business the better. If we're goin' to have a row, let's get over with it as soon as we can."
"That's what I was countin' on; but I'll tell you we'd better not work to-day. It's no use to rush, an' by to-morrow Skip 'll be over his mad fit a little, most likely. He won't do anything but hunt for us till night, an' in the mornin' he'll need money so bad he'll have to go to work."
Teddy realized that Carrots's advice must be good, since he was thoroughly acquainted with the ways of the city; yet at the same time he was impatient because of the enforced idleness when it seemed necessary he should be at work.
Then Carrots proceeded to explain to his newly-made friend some of the peculiarities of his associates, and gave him an insight into their manner of living.
"Now I'm countin' on your takin' half of my house," Carrots said. "You see, you've got either to go to the Newsboys' Lodging House, or else hire a room somewhere, if you want ter swell, an' that's dreadful expensive. When the weather ain't too cold, boys can sleep 'round 'most anywhere."
"How does it happen that you have a house? Do you live with your folks?"
"I ain't got any, an' never had; but the place where I stop is mighty swell, I can tell you, though we can't go home till after dark, 'causeI don't want the folks what hire the property to think I came for the rent."
Teddy was mystified by this reply; but thought it advisable not to ask for particulars.
"I suppose you get your grub anywhere?" he said, interrogatively.
"Yes, when I've got the money. When I ain't, I go without. Seein' 's how neither of us has had any breakfast, what do you say to huntin' for a place where we can git five-cent soup?"
This seemed to Teddy like a necessity, inasmuch as he had had neither supper nor breakfast, and a few moments later the boys were busily employed over two plates of soup.
When the meal was ended the two, whose only business on this day was to keep beyond the reach of Skip Jellison, walked up-town that Teddy might see as much of the city as possible during his enforced idleness, and they did not return until a late hour.
After a great many precautions, and an unusual amount of scurrying to and fro, Carrots conducted his friend to the residence in the rear of the shop, and was delighted by hearing it praised in no stinted terms.
"It's great!" Teddy said, approvingly. "A feller that's got a place like this don't need to hire any rooms. I'd rather have it than a reg'lar house, any day."
"So had I," the proud proprietor replied; "but one thing is that you can't get here in the daytime. I reckon if they knew a feller was livin' in these boxes, they'd fire him out."
Then Carrots brought forth such of the provisions as had been left overfrom the previous evening's feast; and before he had finished this task a shrill whistle from the alleyway caused him to leap to his feet quickly, as he exclaimed:
"Now, there's Teenie Massey ag'in! I do wish he'd stay away once in a while. There won't be any room for three of us to sleep here, an' I'm goin' to tell him so."
As he ceased speaking Carrots gave vent to a prolonged whistle, and a few seconds later the sound as of some one climbing over the fence told that Master Massey was in what might be called the vestibule of Carrots's residence.
It was evident that Teenie was not wholly at ease when he made his appearance. Even one who had never seen him before would have understood there was something on his mind, and he greeted his friends in such a peculiar manner as to cause Carrots to ask:
"What's the matter with you? Ain't any of your folks dead, is there?"
"Oh, I'm all right," Teenie replied. "What made you think there was anything wrong?"
"Why, you look so—kind er queer."
Teenie was silent for a few moments, as if revolving some weighty question in his mind, and then, with the air of one who is determined to have the worst over, said:
"Look here, Carrots! I've allers been a friend of yours, ain't I, even if I have stood in with Skip Jellison once in a while?"