With Dick's intelligent aid Jimmy sold more papers that afternoon than he had ever before disposed of in a similar time. The two boys, when the hour came to stop, since the crowds were about done hurrying toward the ferries, found that they had quite a goodly sum between them.
"Well, we might as well go git supper an' den we kin take in a movin'-picture show," said Jimmy. "I know where dere's a swell one. Have a cigarette? Dat's so, I forgot youse didn't smoke. Well, I'll light up."
"Are you going back to Frank's room?" asked Dick.
"Sure. Why not? Frank won't be here till t'-morror."
"I was thinking we had enough money now to hire a room of our own. If we pay a week's rent in advance we'll be sure of a place to stay, and I must admit I don't like sleeping in boxes."
"It'll take a lot of money t' pay a week's rent," objected Jimmy. "We kin hire one by de night, jest as well, an' we'll have more money for sport."
"Yes, but if it should rain to-morrow and we couldn't sell many papers, we wouldn't make much money, but if we invest some now, in a room, we'll be sure of having a dry place to stay."
"Well, mebby youse is right. I never hire a room by de week, 'cause I don't often have coin enough, an' when I does, I ginerally goes t' a show."
"Don't you think it better to get the room?"
"I s'pose so," replied Jimmy a little doubtfully. Dick was beginning to take matters into his own hands and he made some propositions that Jimmy could hardly understand. For Jimmy took but little thought ahead. If he had money enough to live on for one day that satisfied him, and he let to-morrow take care of itself. But he was willing, at least, to try Dick's way.
Accordingly the boys first had supper and then, going to the lodging-house, inquired of the manager about a room.
"You don't mean to say you're going to get a room by the week, do you, Jimmy?" asked Mr. Snowden, for he knew the habits of the newsboy, who often got a bed in the place for a night, but who had never remained for much longer at a time.
"Sure, me an' me partner wants a good room," was Jimmy's answer. "We's got de coin, too, see!" and he rattled the money in his pocket.
"I'm glad you have. I wish you both would stay here with us regularly. I had a letter from Frank to-day. He inquired about you and Dick and said he would not be back until the end of the week, so you may keep his room until then, if you like."
"I think it will be better if we have our own room at once," said Dick.
"I am glad to hear you say that," went on the manager. "There is nothing like being independent in this world, and though you would be welcome in Frank's room, I think you will feel more business-like if you have one of your own. Eh, Jimmy!"
"Oh, I s'pose so. Whatever me partner says, dat goes."
"Have you gone into partnership?" asked Mr. Snowden, with a smile.
"We have been thinking of it," replied Dick. "I sold some papers for Jimmy to-day, and he said I did well."
"Dat's what he done," declared Jimmy admiringly. "An' he wouldn't yell dat dere was a fire ner a murder. I don't see how he done it."
"I told about the financial news," admitted Dick.
"I should think you two would make a good firm," commented Mr. Snowden. "Now, if you like, I will show you some rooms."
There was not much choice, as the apartments had to be very small and plain, since they rented for very small sums to the poor boys. The beds were hardly large enough for two persons.
"We have one larger room with two cots in it," said the manager, "but that rents for a dollar and a half a week; twenty-five cents more than the others. I don't suppose you would care for that."
"I think we would," said Dick quickly. Somehow he liked the idea of a bed by himself, though Jimmy was unusually clean for a newsboy without a home, as he frequently went to the public baths.
"Will that suit you, Jimmy?" asked Mr. Snowden, for he wanted to be certain both boys would be pleased.
"Sure. Whatever me partner says goes," was the answer, given with a wave of his hand, as though he and Dick were millionaires.
Mr. Snowden took them to the room. It was a fairly good one, and had, besides the two beds, or cots, a wash-stand with a bowl and pitcher, two chairs, and a rocker.
"Say, dis is dead swell!" exclaimed Jimmy, taking a seat in the rocker and moving backward and forward. "De Astor House and de Waldorf-Astoria ain't got nuttin' t' beat dis. Dis is all to de merry."
"I'm glad you like it," said Dick. "I think we'll take it, Mr. Snowden. Here is the rent." It was all Dick had left out of the money he had in his pocket when he awoke to find himself in the box.
"Hold on!" exclaimed Jimmy. "We'll go whacks on dis. I'll pay me share."
"If you are going to be partners why don't you put all your money together and let one of you be the treasurer? Then you can keep track of your expenses," suggested the manager.
"Dat's a good idea," declared Jimmy. "Here, Dick, take what I got an' settle de bills. Youse kin be treasurer an' I'll be de general manager. I can't sign any checks, so dat's de best way."
"I'm afraid it will be a good while before I can sign any checks, either," replied Dick. "But, if you wish, I will take charge of the money. That is if you trust me."
"Surest t'ing ye know!" exclaimed Jimmy. "Now, dat's settled, I'll send fer me trunks. Most of me wardrobe is at de tailor's gittin' pressed, but I'll tell him t' send it around here."
"All right," said Mr. Snowden with a laugh, as he took the money for the first week's rent from Dick. "I hope you boys will like it here and will be successful. If there is anything I can do to help you be sure to let me know."
"We will," promised Dick.
The two boys looked at each other for several moments when Mr. Snowden had left. It was a new experience for both of them. Dick, of course, could not tell much about himself, but he felt sure he had never lived in such a place as this, though he was far from despising the simple room. As for Jimmy, never had he expected to live in such comparative luxury. He actually had a place he could call "home."
"Were you in earnest when you said we would go in partnership?" asked Dick, after a pause.
"Sure. Why not? Any kid that kin sell papes de way youse kin, not yellin' about a fire or a murder, kin be a partner wid me as long as he likes. I'm willin' if youse is. We've got money now t' take us troo de week an' stack up wid papes every day. Sure, we'll be partners, if youse likes de idea."
"I certainly do, but I can't be sure of selling as many papers every day as I sold to-day. I did better than I thought I would."
"Don't let dat worry youse. Everybody is down on deir luck once in a while. What d'ye say? Is it a go?"
"As far as I'm concerned, yes. I'm much obliged to you for taking me into the firm."
"Oh, dat's all right. Don't mention it. If youse hear of any of dem millionaires in Wall Street wantin' an interest, tell 'em de place is filled."
Thus Jimmy Small and Dick Box (as we must continue to call the strange lad for a time) formed a newsboy partnership that was destined to have a greater influence on their lives than either of them suspected.
"Well, now we's settled in our mansion," said Jimmy, "s'pose we takes a night off an' goes t' see a show."
"What kind?"
"Well, we kin git under de roof fer a quarter at a regular theater, or we kin git a seat in de top gallery of a continuous performance fer fifteen coppers. Den dere's de movin'-picture shows dat cost a nickel. I generally takes dem in, 'cause I ain't allers so flush wid de coin as I am now. What d'ye say t' a movin'-picture show?"
"I've no objections. I never saw one. What are they like?"
"Never saw one! Crimps! If I didn't see a show once in a while I'd feel like a dead one!"
"That is, I suppose I never saw one," went on Dick, with a puzzled look. "Of course I can't remember what happened before—before I got to the box," he added with a smile.
"Well, we'll take in a movin'-picture show, an' mebby youse kin remember if youse ever saw one before."
"All right," agreed Dick, and they started out together.
The Bowery was ablaze with lights and there was quite a crowd in the street. It was the first night Dick had been out since his illness, and, before that, he could not remember having seen New York lighted up. He was much interested in everything he saw.
"Wait a minute," exclaimed Jimmy, as they passed a tobacco store. "I've got t' git some cigarettes. I'm all out."
He hurried inside, and came out smoking one, putting the remainder of the box in his pocket.
"I don't see why youse don't take a smoke," he said to Dick.
"I suppose because I never learned how. Do you like it?"
"Do I? Say, it's all to de merry. Better have one."
"No, thank you. I don't think it's a good thing for boys to smoke."
"Why not?"
"I've read somewhere that it makes them stunted. And it isn't good for their brains."
"Huh! It ain't hurt me none."
"How long have you been smoking?"
"Ever since I was twelve, an' I'm goin' on sixteen now. I keep right on growin'. Course I ain't sayin' much of me brain, but den I guess I never had much."
"I think you are very bright and quick," said Dick with earnestness. "If you want to get on in the world I wouldn't think smoking would be good for you."
"Aw, all de kids does it. An' look at de men. Why, I seen a millionaire once an' he was smokin' a big black cigar."
"Perhaps; but I don't believe he smoked when he was a boy."
"Aw, sure he did. Smokin's fun."
"I wish you'd give it up," went on Dick. "It must cost you something."
"Oh, not much. Only a nickel a day. Crimps! I knows some fellers dat smokes three packs a day."
"That is too many, even for a man, I would think. But if you only spent five cents a day, that's thirty-five cents a week."
"All dat?" inquired Jimmy. "I never s'posed it was so high. Maybe I'm spendin' too much."
"Thirty-five cents is nearly a quarter of the amount we pay a week for our room," went on Dick.
"Well, I'll cut down some," promised Jimmy, "but I ain't goin' t' stop altogedder."
Dick wisely forebore to pursue the matter any further. By this time they were at the place where the moving pictures were shown, and Dick, who had most of the money, though Jimmy kept some, bought two tickets.
"Dere's a friend of mine. I want t' speak t' him," said Jimmy as they entered the place, for the performance had not yet begun after the last intermission. The newsboy saw Sam Schmidt in the next aisle.
"Say, Dutchy," he asked in a whisper, "did youse see anyt'ing about dat reward fer me friend yet?"
"No, not yet," replied the German youth. "I keeps lookin' in der baber, but I ain't seed nottings about no rewards fer der poy. Dere is a rewards fer a mans, und vun fer a vomans, but not any for dot poy. But vait, don't give him up t' der bolice yet."
"I ain't goin t'. Him an' me is partners."
"Dot's right. Keep him safe py you, und mebby you'll git moneys for him. I'll keep on der vatch out."
"Dat's right, Dutchy. Say, youse ain't seen nuttin' of Mike Conroy lately, have youse?"
"Sure, I seen him und dot dog feller out in der street a vhile agos. I dinks dey vos comin's in here."
"What dog feller?"
"Der vun dey calls Bulldogs."
"Oh, him. Well, I've got somethin' t' settle with Mike Conroy. I t'ink he robbed me."
Suddenly the lights were turned off, and the man in charge of the picture machine prepared to operate it. Jimmy made his way back to where Dick sat, his conversation with the German newsboy not having been overheard.
"I hope dey have a prize-fight or a robbery picture," said Jimmy.
"Do you like those best?" asked Dick.
"Bettcherlife! Dem's bully. Dey have one scene where a feller gits a knockout blow right in de middle of de ring, an' youse kin see him fall over, dead to de woild. Den dere's annuder where a feller shoots fifteen Injuns out West."
"I think I'd like something quieter, like scenes of travel in foreign lands."
"Oh, dey uster have dem, but de fellers hissed when dey was showed an' dey took 'em off."
The pictures now began, and Dick was much interested in one showing the fire department in action. It was very realistic, though of course it was all arranged purposely for the picture machines, and the woman jumping from the window of a burning building, though it looked very real and dangerous, was only an imitation. Dick at first did not realize this, but Jimmy, who had acquired a fund of knowledge on these points, enlightened him.
There was some singing by a performer after this picture, and when the lights were turned up Jimmy saw, sitting not far from him, Mike Conroy and his crony, Bulldog.
"Dere he is!" he exclaimed when the singer had finished.
"Who?" asked Dick.
"A feller I t'ink robbed me. I'm goin' t' tackle him after de show."
"Are you going to fight?"
"I will if youse'll stand by me."
"I'm afraid I'm not much of a fighter. I'd rather not."
"Well, mebby it's just as well, 'cause Mike an' Bulldog could lick de both of us. But I'll tell him he robbed me."
During the performance Jimmy smoked several cigarettes, as did nearly every one else in the place, until the room was so thick with the vapor that it was hard to see the pictures clearly, and it was difficult for Dick to breathe.
"Dey didn't have no prize-fight, an' dat robbery picture was rotten," declared Jimmy when the performance was over, and the two boys made their way out. "I ain't comin' here no more."
"I don't believe I will either," declared Dick with a cough.
"Don't youse like it?"
"Oh, yes, some of the pictures were very interesting, but I could hardly breathe on account of the smoke."
"Oh, youse'll git used t' dat," declared Jimmy. "If youse took a cigarette yerself youse wouldn't mind it."
"I'm afraid that wouldn't make much difference. But it's nice out here."
"Wait till I see if I kin spot Mike," proposed Jimmy, and they took their position near the doorway. Soon Bulldog and his crony came out.
"Hey, Conroy," began Jimmy, stepping up to the larger youth. "What'd youse do wid me money?"
"Your money? What's de kid talkin' about?" and Mike turned to Bulldog.
"Search me," was the answer. "Hit him a poke an' come on."
"You hit me an' I'll tell dat cop over dere," threatened Jimmy, motioning toward a bluecoat. "Youse swiped some chink offen me, Mike, an' I want it."
"Aw, fergit it," advised the other. "Who says I took any of your money? You never had any."
"I had more'n a dollar an' a half when I was here t' de show last time, an' youse an' Bulldog sat behind me. When I come out I didn't have a red cent left."
"An' youse t'ink I took it!" exclaimed Mike. "Say, youse has nerve, youse has."
"Gimme de money," demanded Jimmy.
"I'll give ye a poke in de ribs if ye bodders me any more!" cried Conroy, making a dart toward Jimmy as he saw that the policeman was moving away.
"Aw, who's afraid of youse?" asked Jimmy boldly, but he looked to see if a way of retreat was clear. The instant his head was turned Mike made a rush for him and hit Jimmy in the face. Then before the boy could strike back at him Conroy had dodged away and was off down the street, running, while Bulldog Smouder followed. Mike was not going to risk remaining after hitting Jimmy when there was a policeman within call.
"Did he hurt you much?" asked Dick sympathetically.
"Naw," bravely replied Jimmy. "Wait till I git him off alone somewhere an' I'll have a try at lickin' him. I'll practice up an' see if I can't do him."
Then to console his wounded spirit, as well as to forget the pain of the blow, for it had been a hard one, Jimmy lighted another cigarette.
While Jimmy and Dick went to their room in the lodging-house, Mike Conroy and Bulldog Smouder, after turning a corner and finding there was no pursuit after them, slackened their pace.
"What'd youse run for?" asked Bulldog. "I'd 'a' helped if it come t' a fight."
"Aw, Bricks can't fight me," replied Mike. "But I didn't want dat cop t' see me. He's been lookin' fer me."
"Fer what?"
"Aw, he t'inks I swiped some fruit offen an Italian's stand, an' de Dago made a complaint ag'inst me."
"Did youse take any?"
"Jest a few bananas. But don't say nuttin'."
"Course not. I didn't squeal when youse took Bricks' coin, did I?"
"Go easy on dat," advised Mike. "Somebody might hear. I give youse half, anyhow."
"I know dat. Dat's why I didn't squeal."
"Say, I wonder who dat well-dressed guy was wid Bricks?" went on Mike. "I seen him t'-day sellin' papes wid him."
"I don't know. Maybe Dutchy does."
"How would he know?"
"I seen Jimmy talkin' t' him kinder serious jest as we come in t'-night."
"Where does Dutchy hang out?"
"Down on Mulberry Street. Why?"
"Let's find him an' see if he knows anyt'ing about de new kid wid Bricks," proposed Bulldog. "Dere's somethin' funny about him. Why, he's a reg'lar swell, an' travelin' wid Jimmy looks queer."
"What do youse t'ink it is?"
"I've got a suspicion he might have runned away from home t' see life in a great city as it's played in de theaters."
"Well, suppose he has?"
"Maybe we kin pipe his folks off as t' where he is an' git a reward."
"Dat's so! Bully fer you, Bulldog. Come on, we'll see if we can spot Dutchy."
The two plotters found the German newsboy after a little search. Bulldog had agreed to do the talking.
"Hello, Dutchy," he greeted. "Say, don't youse want a cigarette?"
"Sure. I ain't had no luck dese days, und I ain't got no money fer smokes."
"Well, here's a couple," went on Bulldog, for he wanted to get on the right side of the other lad.
"Ach! Now I feels petter alretty yet," announced Sam as he lighted the cigarette, for he, like nearly all the other newsboys, was addicted to smoking.
"I saw Jimmy Small an' his new partner t'-night," went on Bulldog. "It's a wonder dat new kid don't go back home."
"Home? Did youse know vere his home vos?" asked the German, thinking from Bulldog's remark that he must know something of Dick.
"Well, maybe I do. What do youse know about him?"
"Vos dere a rewards for him in de baber?" asked Sam in his turn. "I vos lookin' fer it, but I don't see any."
"I don't know; but what did you hear about him? He's got a swell home, I understand, an' his dad wants him t' come back."
"I knowed he vould!" exclaimed Sam. "Tell me, vere is his home? I goes me und dells Jimmy. He is goin' to divide der rewards mit me."
"Where'd he pick up de kid?" asked Bulldog, determined to get all the information he could without disclosing the fact that he knew nothing of Dick.
The German lad, who had been deceived by Bulldog's manner, readily told all he knew of Dick, and how he had been found. Bulldog and his crony exchanged glances.
"Now tells me vere his home is und I tells it t' Jimmy," went on Sam. "We must hurry t' git der rewards pefore der bolice."
"Aw, I don't know anyt'ing about him," replied Bulldog with a laugh. "I was only foolin' youse."
"Foolin'! So? Dot's a yoke, hey? Vell, I'm sorry I told you anydings, und I'll tells Jimmy t' be on der lookouts by you both alretty yet."
"Oh, dat's all right," spoke Bulldog quickly, for he did not want Jimmy to learn he had been making inquiries concerning Dick. "I didn't t'ink you'd mind, Dutchy. Here, have some more cigarettes, an' t'-morrow night we'll take youse t' a show."
"Is dot some more foolin's?" asked the German boy suspiciously.
"Naw, dat's de straight goods; won't we, Mike?"
"Sure."
"Dot's all right, den. I vun't say noddings. But it's queer about dot Dick Box. He has forgotten all about hisself, und he don't even know vot his own name is. Ach! Dot's a yoke, too, I dinks!" and the German boy, laughing himself back into good nature, left the two plotters.
"Well, what next?" asked Mike of his crony, after Sam's departure.
"I don't know exactly. I've got t' t'ink it out. But I'll bet we kin find out where de kid belongs an' git dat reward away from Jimmy. He don't know nuttin'. He can't read or write."
"No, but Dutchy kin, an' maybe he'll help him. Youse heard what he said about lookin' fer a reward in de papers."
"Oh, dat's all right. I'll fix Dutchy. I'll give him a song an' dance, an' he won't know whether he's standin' on his head or his feet. Youse leave Dutchy t' me. I'll 'tend t' him."
"All right. Go ahead; but I git half de reward."
"Sure. Ain't we pals?"
"What ye goin' t' do foist?"
"I'm goin' t' have a talk wid de police."
"Dat'll give de whole t'ing away."
"Naw. Not de way I do it. I knows a detective, an' I kin find out on de quiet if dere's any alarm out fer a boy answerin' Dick's description. Dat's what I'll do foist."
Meanwhile Dick and Jimmy, all unconscious of the plot against them, were in their new room discussing plans for the next day.
For several days Dick and Jimmy did well as partners in the newspaper business. There happened to be considerable news, and there was a good demand for papers. Consequently the boys sold a large number and their earnings were considerable.
"Crimps! But we'll be millionaires if dis keeps on," remarked Jimmy one night, when they were in their room counting up their cash.
"Hardly that," replied Dick, "but we have enough for our next week's room rent, sufficient to live on and three dollars besides. I think we had better open a bank account with that."
"A bank account?"
"Yes; why not? Frank Merton told me about the Dime Savings Bank, where he puts his money."
On Frank's return from Brooklyn he had renewed his acquaintance with Dick, and the two boys had taken quite a liking to one another.
"Well, youse is de treasurer of dis firm," replied Jimmy. "If youse t'inks a bank account is de proper t'ing, why, go ahead an' open it. I guess I kin stand it if youse kin."
"It will be a good thing in case we have bad luck. We'll have something to fall back on for our room rent."
"All right, sport," exclaimed Jimmy, who occasionally did not use Dick's name in speaking to him, calling him whatever he happened to think of in the way of street slang. "Go ahead, cully. I'm game."
So the next day Dick opened a bank account in his name, as Jimmy could not sign the book, a fact of which the newsboy was not at all ashamed. Nor could he read more than the titles of the different papers he carried, and these were distinguished by him more by the different kinds of type than by the difference in letters.
Dick's fear about poor business was justified. A heavy rain storm took place that afternoon, just at the time when the extras came out. It seemed as if every one got in out of the wet, and there were few persons on the street to buy papers. The rain kept up until long after dark, and the two partners, who had to go out rain or shine, found they had not sold ten papers between them.
"Dis is de time we're up ag'inst it," remarked Jimmy rather dismally as they took back to the newspaper offices the unsold copies and started for their room.
"Well, we can't always expect to do as good business as we did at first. Anyhow, we don't have to worry about our room rent nor our supper. To-morrow we'll probably do better."
"Let's take in a show," proposed Jimmy. "I feel sort of low in me mind, an' a good show'll cheer me up."
"Do you think we can afford it? We haven't made our expenses to-day, and I don't believe we should waste any money on a show. We ought to wait until we have had better luck. Of course half the money is yours, and you can do as you please. Only I'm not going to spend any of mine on a show. Besides, we saw one this week."
"Well, maybe I'd better stay home den," agreed Jimmy with a sigh. "Anyhow, I've got some cigarettes an' I'll have a smoke."
"Jimmy," said Dick with a sudden resolve, "I wish you'd do me a favor."
"Sure. What is it?"
"Don't be so quick to promise until you hear what it is. Perhaps you'll not want to do it."
"Why, I'd do anyt'ing fer youse, Dick."
"Will you give up smoking?"
"What's dat?" asked Jimmy suddenly, pausing in the act of lighting his cigarette.
"I wish you would stop smoking. It can't do you any good, and I'm sure it must do you harm."
"Stop smokin'? Say, I—I don't believe I kin. Honest I don't. Seems like whenever I feel bad a cigarette makes me feel fine."
"That's just the trouble. You will get to depend on them to make you feel good, and you'll have to keep on smoking more and more as you grow older."
"Aw, what's de harm? All de kids does it, an' look at de men."
"I know plenty of them do, but I don't believe any of them can say it benefits them. I read in the paper the other day that a doctor said it was very injurious for boys to smoke. I saved the article. You ought to read it."
"Huh! I can't read me own name."
"Oh, excuse me. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," spoke Dick quickly. "I forgot you couldn't read."
"Dat's all right, cully. Me feelin's ain't hurted."
"Would you like to read?" asked Dick as an idea came to him.
"Say, would I? Betcherlife I would. But I don't s'pose I ever kin learn."
"I don't see why not."
"How could I? Who'd teach a newsie like me t' read?"
"I would, Jimmy, if you wanted me to."
"No kiddin'?"
"No 'kidding,' as you call it. I would like to very much."
"Does ye t'ink I kin learn?"
"I don't see why not. You are bright and quick, and you have a good memory, for you know where almost every street in New York is located."
"Oh, dat's easy; but dem letters—every one looks so much alike dat I never kin tell 'em apart."
"Oh, they are all different, as I can soon show you. Will you try?"
"Sure I will. Crimps! But t'ink of me learnin' t' read!"
"And why don't you include writing while you're about it?" asked Dick with a smile.
"Writin'? Say, if I lived t' be a hundred years old I might learn t' scribble me own name, but dat's all."
"Oh, no. I am sure you could learn to read and write. If you like I will teach you both."
"Start in den!" exclaimed Jimmy with the air of a martyr. "De sooner de quicker. Say, tell ye what I'll do," he added as he put back in the box the cigarette he had not lighted. "If youse kin teach me t' read an' write I'll—I'll stop smokin'."
"Really?" asked Dick, much delighted.
"Sure. I guess I kin, but I'd like a cigarette awful jest now. Maybe if I smoke one now I kin quit easier."
"If you are going to stop, you might as well stop at once," said Dick firmly, for he wanted to reform his partner if he could.
"All right," agreed Jimmy with a sigh, and he put the box of cigarettes back in his pocket.
"What are you going to do with them?" asked Dick.
"I'll give 'em t' Dutchy. He smokes."
"Throw them away. It isn't good for Sam to smoke, and you shouldn't give him the chance."
This proposition was almost too much for Jimmy, used as he was to the life of the streets, but he had started on a new line of conduct and, at least for a time, he was going to follow it.
He hesitated a moment, and then, with something like a sigh of regret, he went to the window of the room and tossed the box out into the air court. The cigarettes fell to the pavement below, where the rain soon spoiled them.
"Now for the first lesson," said Dick. "We'll begin on the letters," and finding in an old newspaper an advertisement where the print was large, he began to teach Jimmy the rudiments of reading.
"We'll begin on the letters," said Dick. Page 92"We'll begin on the letters," said Dick.Page92
"We'll begin on the letters," said Dick. Page 92"We'll begin on the letters," said Dick.Page92
The newsboy was eager to learn, and as Dick was an enthusiastic teacher, the lesson went on surprisingly well. It was nearly midnight before they stopped, so quickly did the time pass.
"How do you like it?" asked Dick as they got ready for bed.
"It's—it's kinder queer," replied Jimmy. "I can't seem to remember whether de cross piece of de letter T is on de top or on de bottom, an' I've clean forgot which is knocked flat on de side—de D or de O."
"Oh, you'll soon remember all that. Don't be discouraged. It will come in time," said Dick encouragingly; and then the two newsboy partners said good-night and crawled between the blankets.
Business was better for the two boys the next day, as the rain had ceased and there was a lively demand for papers. As soon as the first rush was over Jimmy, who was as usual at his place at Broadway and Barclay Street, turned to an advertisement in one of the papers and began to pick out the letters. He was engaged in this occupation when a man stopped in front of him, but at first Jimmy did not see him.
"Aren't you selling any papers to-day?" asked the man.
"Sure," replied Jimmy, alive in an instant to business. "Sun, Woild, Herald, Times, Joinal—why—why——" he exclaimed as he looked up and saw Mr. Crosscrab, the young man from Vermont, standing in front of him.
"I see you remember me," said Mr. Crosscrab, smiling.
"Dat's what I do. Did youse git t' Brooklyn all right?"
"Yes, and when I got there I found my aunt very sick. That is why I haven't been back to New York. This is the first chance I have had to come over, and I took the opportunity of looking for you."
"Well, I'm right on de job. Have a paper?"
"I'll take aSun," and the countryman handed Jimmy a nickel.
"Dat's all right," replied the newsboy in a spirit of generosity. "Have one on me."
"Are you giving papers away?"
"To me friends, yep."
"Well, I don't expect to get my news that way, though I'm glad you consider me a friend. I insist on paying for this."
"But didn't youse give me a quarter?"
"That was for information furnished. I consider I got twenty-five cents' worth from you. Now I want to buy a paper. If you won't sell it, I'll get one from some other boy."
"Well, if youse puts it dat way I'll take de coin," said Jimmy, though he honestly wanted Mr. Crosscrab to take a paper for nothing.
"How have you been since I last saw you?" asked the young man.
"Fine. I've got a partner in me business now."
"Is that so? Who is he?"
"Dick Box."
"Dick Box? What a strange name."
"Well, I found him in a queer place—in a box—so I give him dat name. He don't know any udder."
"That's odd. Well, I am going up to Central Park. Which is the best way to get there?"
Jimmy gave the necessary directions.
"I'd like to have you come along," proposed Mr. Crosscrab, who had taken quite a liking to Jimmy.
"Can't leave me business. Me partner'd git mad if I made him do all de work."
"No, probably it wouldn't be right. Well, perhaps I will see him some day and take you both along. I need a guide to show me around New York. I suppose you would come if I made it worth your while?"
"I'll have t' speak t' me partner," replied Jimmy with a laugh.
"Where do you live?"
"Newsboys' Lodgin' House. We've got a regular room, an' we're dead swell. Come an' see us."
"Perhaps I will some time," and with a pleasant smile Mr. Crosscrab bade Jimmy good-by.
"Dick Box," mused the country young man as he walked away. "That is certainly an odd name. I used to know a boy named Dick, but his last name wasn't Box nor anything like it."
During this time Dick was selling papers in the financial district. He found that it was an advantage to follow his method of calling the attention of the bankers and brokers to news in which they were interested rather than to more sensational items.
He sold nearly as many papers as did Jimmy, who had years of experience to his credit. Dick soon became well known as a newsboy in the moneyed section of the city, and many rich men bought their papers regularly from him. His frank and courteous manners, and the quiet, business-like way in which he went about gained him a number of friends.
It also gained him enemies among the other newsboys, who did not like to see their territory invaded by a newcomer, especially one who did so well.
But as the financial district was patroled by several policemen and detectives to prevent robberies, none of the jealous newsboys dared attack Dick and engage him in a fight, which a number of them wanted to do to pay him back for taking some of their trade away.
Dick was doing nothing wrong, and he knew it. The streets were free, and if he could sell papers by his own methods, he knew he was within his rights.
Still there was much feeling against him, and among those who considered him their especial enemy was Bulldog Smouder. He had often sold newspapers in Wall Street, and he noted a falling off in his sales since Dick's advent. Bulldog's method was like that of his companions. He would yell out at the top of his voice, and call some piece of news which might or might not be true. And whatever it was, he mumbled his words so that no one could understand him. Whenever he saw a man put his hand in his pocket he would assume that the man wanted a paper, and he would rush up and thrust one in his face.
On one occasion a gentleman who frequently bought a paper of Dick approached him, putting his hand in his pocket to extract a coin. The motion was observed by Bulldog, who rushed forward with such eagerness that he ran into the man.
"Here! What are you trying to do!" exclaimed the customer.
"Wuxtry! Don't youse want a wuxtry? All de latest news!" exclaimed the big newsboy.
"Certainly I want a paper, but I prefer to buy it of this lad," and he purchased one from Dick.
"I'll fix youse fer dis!" threatened Bulldog when the man had gone. Perhaps he might have undertaken to chastise Dick then and there had it not been for the presence of a big policeman on the next corner.
"What have I done?" asked Dick.
"Youse is takin' all me customers away."
"I didn't do anything to induce that man to buy of me."
"Yes, youse did."
"What did I do?"
"Well, I don't know what it was, but youse has got t' git outer here. Dis is me stampin' ground, an' I want youse t' git."
"Suppose I don't?" asked Dick, who was not afraid, even if Bulldog was the larger.
"Well, you'll see. Who are youse, anyhow? Comin' t' N'York an' buttin' in here where youse ain't wanted. Why don't youse go back home?"
"I would if I knew where my home was," spoke Dick quietly, for he made no secret of his queer plight.
"Say, kid, honest, don't youse remember anyt'ing about yerself?" asked Bulldog with a sudden assumption of friendliness, for he happened to remember the conversation he and Mike Conroy had had concerning Dick, and he thought this a good chance to further the plot which the two had made.
"I can remember very little about what happened before I met Jimmy Small."
"Don't youse know what kind of a place youse lived in?"
"I haven't the least idea."
"An' can't youse remember yer own name?"
"Only the first part of it."
"Well, dat's a queer go! Would youse like t' git back home, kid?"
"Indeed I would. Why, do you know anything about me? My mind seems in a daze whenever I try to think about it. If you know anything, please tell me."
"Naw, I don't know nuttin'. Say, youse didn't run away, did youse? Youse ain't comin' no game like dat, is yer?"
"No, certainly not," replied Dick, his face flushing at the insinuation.
"Well, dat's queer," murmured Bulldog as he turned away. Then he started suddenly as he saw coming toward him a man whom he knew. It was a detective from police headquarters, and Bulldog had frequently given the man information about petty thieves.
"Say," said Bulldog in a low tone to the detective as the latter reached him, "I want t' ask youse a few questions. Come in here," and he motioned to a hallway. The detective, who was inclined to be friendly with the newsboy, thinking he might have some future use for him, complied, and soon the two were in conversation.