The Newsboy Partners; Or, Who Was Dick Box? - Part 23
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Part 23

He had hoped that something might be done to aid him, but he found the only thing he could do was to wait, and this was very tedious.

"And maybe it will never happen," he said to Jimmy, that night in their room.

"Yes, it will," declared his partner, with more conviction that he felt. "You'll remember who you are some day, I'm certain."

"Perhaps--when it's too late."

"Well, don't think any more about it," advised Jimmy. "I heard some news to-day I forgot to tell you."

"What was it?"

"Well, a fellow that has a fine news-stand on Sixth Avenue near the elevated road wants to sell out. He's sick, an' he's got to go out West. I thought maybe you and me could buy him out."

"That's so, we might. How much does he want?"

"I don't know. Sam Schmidt was telling me about it. I didn't see the man who owns it."

"Suppose we go and see him," suggested d.i.c.k.

It had, for some time, been the ambition of the newsboy partners to own a regular stand, where not only papers but magazines and weeklies could be sold. Jimmy, in his wildest ambition, had sometimes dreamed of such a rise in life, but, until he had met d.i.c.k and learned new habits, including the one of saving his money, such a thing had not been possible for him, even to consider. Now he hoped he was in a position to realize his fondest expectation.

They went to see the owner of the stand the next day. The location, they knew from their past experience, was a good one, as it was near several ferries and street-car lines, as well as right under an elevated station. Thus the owner of the stand could always be a.s.sured of a large number of customers.

"I wonder how much he'll want for it?" spoke d.i.c.k, as they approached.

"Oh, maybe about forty or fifty dollars. How much have we got saved up now?"

"Nearly twenty-five."

"Maybe he'll trust us for what we haven't got, d.i.c.k."

"Perhaps, if we give him a mortgage."

"What's a mortgage?"

"Why, it's a paper showing that you owe a man so much money, and you give him a claim on your property as security. You'll soon learn about them in your arithmetic, especially when we get going to night-school."

"I don't care whether I learn or not, if I can be a part-owner in that stand," declared Jimmy, his eyes shining as he noted the pile of papers and magazines and saw the little enclosure where the proprietor of the place sat.

"Oh, but you must," insisted d.i.c.k. "Now shall I do the talking, or will you?"

"You'd better. But if he tries to come any 'con' game on us I'll have something to say. I know lots about selling papers, but not much about buying stands."

"I hear this stand is for sale," began d.i.c.k, speaking to a young man in charge.

"Who told you?" was the somewhat suspicious answer.

"My partner here, James Small, heard it from another newsboy, Sam Schmidt. Isn't it correct?"

"I suppose it is. I want to sell out. I've got to go West for my lungs."

"That's too bad. How much do you want for the stand?"

"Well, you know this is a good place to do business."

"I'll have to take your word for it," replied d.i.c.k. "Still it seems quite a lively place and ought to be good."

"Good? I guess it is!"

"How much do youse--I mean you--take in every week?" asked Jimmy suddenly, for he felt he could safely ask this question.

"What's that got to do with it?" inquired the stand-owner sharply.

"Lots. If me and me partner buys this stand, we want to know how much we're going to make."

"Well, I do a good business. Of course some days it's better than others."

"What does it average?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Well," replied the proprietor, after some figuring, "it averages fifty-five dollars a week."

Jimmy uttered a low whistle of surprise. That was higher than he had thought.

"And what are the expenses?" asked d.i.c.k quietly.

"I have to pay the elevated railroad company ten dollars a week for having my stand here, and I have to hire a boy to bring me papers and other supplies, for I sell cigars and tobacco. But there aren't many weeks when I don't clear twenty dollars."

d.i.c.k thought this was a fine business, but, of course, if he and Jimmy took it there would not be so much profit for each of them as the man got, unless they could increase the business. That was another matter to consider.

"How much do you want for the stand?" asked d.i.c.k, while he and Jimmy waited anxiously for the answer.

"Well, I'll take two hundred and fifty dollars cash, and not a cent less."

The figure was so high, and the announcement of it caused the partners such a surprise, that, for a moment, they did not know what to say.

CHAPTER XVIII

BULLDOG THREATENS d.i.c.k

d.i.c.k was the first to recover his composure. He had to admit that he had no idea of what a news-stand in New York might be worth. His previous notions, as well as those of Jimmy, had evidently been wrong.

"I'm afraid that figure is too high for us," spoke d.i.c.k slowly.

"High? That's dirt cheap," declared the young man. "Why you can make the stand pay for itself in six months. I'd never give it up if it wasn't that my health has failed."

"But we haven't got that much money," said d.i.c.k frankly.