"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.

"d.i.c.k Box," mused the country young man as he walked away. "That is certainly an odd name. I used to know a boy named d.i.c.k, but his last name wasn't Box nor anything like it."

During this time d.i.c.k 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. d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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.

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k'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 a.s.sume 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k.

"I'll fix youse fer dis!" threatened Bulldog when the man had gone.

Perhaps he might have undertaken to chastise d.i.c.k then and there had it not been for the presence of a big policeman on the next corner.

"What have I done?" asked d.i.c.k.

"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 d.i.c.k, who was not afraid, even if Bulldog was the larger.

"Well, you'll see. Who are youse, anyhow? Comin' t' N'York an'

b.u.t.tin' in here where youse ain't wanted. Why don't youse go back home?"

"I would if I knew where my home was," spoke d.i.c.k 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 a.s.sumption of friendliness, for he happened to remember the conversation he and Mike Conroy had had concerning d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k, 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.

CHAPTER XIV

JIMMY'S FURTHER PROGRESS

Meanwhile d.i.c.k, all unconscious of the plot being woven about him, continued to sell his papers. When he was out he went to the delivery wagon and got more, and he remained in the financial district until three o'clock, when, as that marks the close of the day's business, there was not much chance to sell any more papers.

Then he went up to report to Jimmy and help him dispose of his stock by circulating around City Hall Park and the streets leading to the ferries.

"Well, dis ain't so bad," remarked Jimmy as they went to supper that evening, calculating on the way how much they had taken in.

"No, indeed," said his partner. "If this keeps on we can soon start a regular stand."

"Crimps! Dat would be fine! But I guess we'll have t' have more money saved up. All de good places is taken, and we'd have t' buy somebody out."

"Oh, yes, we'll have to have more money," agreed d.i.c.k. "But if all goes well we can put another dollar in the bank this week."

"Dat's de stuff. Crimps! but I'm hungry! Guess I'll have a----"

Jimmy stopped suddenly as he put his hand in his pocket.