"Sure, I seen him und dot dog feller out in der street a vhile agos. I d.i.n.ks 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k.

"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 d.i.c.k 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. d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k.

"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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 c.h.i.n.k 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 d.i.c.k 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.

CHAPTER XI

PLANNING A TRICK

While Jimmy and d.i.c.k 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."