"Haven't you a mother or a sister or a brother?" asked Mr. Crosscrab, feeling a strong sympathy for the boy.
"Nixy. Not a one."
"How long have you been selling papers?"
"About two years. But say, mister, I don't want to be short wid youse, only I've got t' go an' git some more papes. I'm sold out, an' dis is me busy time. Stop around t'-morrer an' I'll tell ye all I know about N'York."
"That's all right," said Mr. Crosscrab, understanding the situation. "I didn't mean to keep you from your work. If I pass this way to-morrow I shall look for you. Here is something to pay you for your trouble."
He held out a coin to Jimmy, who promptly took it. It was a silver quarter.
"Crimps!" exclaimed Jimmy as he saw the money. "Say, youse is all right, that's what youse is! Ye kin ast me questions all day at dat rate."
Mr. Crosscrab, with a smile and a wave of his hand for good-by, passed on toward the Brooklyn Bridge, while Jimmy, hardly able to believe his good fortune, hurried after some more papers.
"I certainly am in luck t'-day," he murmured. "I wonder what ails dat guy? Maybe he's crazy an' believes in givin' all his money away. I wish he'd come by t'-morrer. Crimps! But dis is fine! I'll go see a show t'-night sure!"
CHAPTER II
JIMMY IS OUT OF LUCK
Jimmy bought another supply of papers and hurried back to his corner. But no sooner had he come in sight of it than he saw it was occupied by a large newsboy. The newcomer was a lad much bigger and stronger than our young hero, but in spite of that Jimmy was not going to be deprived of his place without a protest.
"Hey, Bulldog!" he exclaimed, giving the other newsboy the nickname by which he was known, "what ye doin' on my corner?"
"Your corner?" inquired the other, with an ugly grin on his big face, thereby showing two sharp teeth which gave him his name.
"Yep, my corner, Bulldog. I was here all de afternoon sellin' papes an' went t' git some more."
"An' I got it now," added Bulldog Smouder with a leer. "Here ye are, paper! Wuxtry!" he added as a man came up and bought a World. It made Jimmy angry to see profits that he thought should be his going into the pockets of his enemy, for Bulldog Smouder was an enemy to all the newsboys excepting those he could not whip. He was a fighter and a bully, and he lost no chance to impose on those weaker or younger than himself. Still, he had no particular grudge against Jimmy, and he would just as quickly have taken the place some other boy regarded as his own as he had preëmpted that recently occupied by our hero.
"Git on off there!" cried Jimmy. "Dat's me place, an' youse knows it."
"I don't know nuttin' but what I sees. I seen this corner an' nobody holdin' it down an' I took it. If youse wants t' keep a good place, what makes youse leave it?"
"I had t' git more papes."
"Den youse ought t' have a partner in business wid ye. He could go after papes while youse held de corner. I'll go in whacks wid ye if ye likes. But youse got t' give me half what youse made t'-day."
"I will like pie!"
It had been a good day for Jimmy, and with the quarter Mr. Crosscrab had given him he had more than he had possessed in a long time before. He was not going to divide with Bulldog, even if the latter, from a physical standpoint, was a desirable partner. For Bulldog was lazy. Jimmy knew if there was a union formed he would have to do all the work, while Bulldog would take half the profits and do nothing.
"Ain't ye goin' t' git off me corner?" demanded Jimmy again.
"Naw, I ain't. Now chase yerself. I want t' sell me papes an' go home. Skiddoo fer yours!"
"I'd like t' punch yer face in," muttered Jimmy.
"Try it," advised Bulldog with a grin. "I'll tie youse up in a knot if ye do."
"What's de matter, Bulldog?" asked another newsboy, coming up at that juncture. He had no papers.
"Aw, de kid says I swiped his corner."
"An' so ye did!" cried Jimmy.
"Why didn't ye stay here den?" asked Bulldog.
"I told youse. 'Cause I had 't go after papes."
"Well, youse know what I said. Git a partner."
"Don't youse give him de corner, Bulldog! Youse got as good a right t' it as he has."
"Sure I have, Mike, an' I'm goin' t' stay here, too."
All this time Bulldog was busy selling papers, while the new stock Jimmy had obtained was still undiminished.
"What ye buttin' in fer, Mike Conroy?" asked Jimmy of the newcomer. "It's none of your funeral."
"Aw, g'wan! Guess I kin speak t' Bulldog if I want t'. I'll punch yer nose fer ye if youse gits too fresh."
"I'd like t' see ye do it!" cried Jimmy, but at the same time he took good care not to get too near Mike, who was a worse bully than Bulldog. The latter would not attack smaller boys than himself without some provocation, but Mike Conroy used to beat and kick them every chance he got. He had often hit Jimmy.
"Wuxtry! Wuxtry!" cried Bulldog as the crowd of men hurrying to the ferry came past. He was kept busy selling papers. Poor Jimmy was out of it. His luck had turned, but it was destined to do so even more before the night was over. Still, he had sold a large number of papers. The trouble was he had bought another big supply, and unless he could quickly dispose of them the crowds would soon be gone, and he would have them left on his hands, to return to the offices, thus making no profit.
He sold a few on the outskirts of the throng about Bulldog, but as soon as the latter saw what was going on he made a rush at Jimmy. The latter fled, for he knew that in a fight he was no match for the larger lad.
"Where's your papes?" Bulldog asked Mike during a lull in the business of selling.
"I'm cleaned out. Sold 'em down in Wall Street. Guess I'll take in a theater t'-night. I kin afford it."
"Wish I could. Maybe I'll go wid ye."
"All right. Goin' t' de lodgin'-house?"
"Sure."
"Keep de kid away from here den till I gits sold out an' I'll go wid ye," said Bulldog.
Thus he and Mike formed an alliance against Jimmy. While Bulldog attended to his customers Mike saw to it that Jimmy did not approach the corner; thus the small lad lost what little chance he had of making sales. As he was thinking over the unfairness of it, and wondering where he had better go to dispose of his stock, he was hailed by another lad about his own size.
"Hello, Jim!" cried the newcomer. "What's the matter?"
"Hello, Frank. Aw, Bulldog Smouder run me off me corner. Dat's what he done."
"That's too bad," exclaimed Frank Merton, who, though a newsboy like Jimmy, was better educated. In fact, Frank had not been long in the business. Left an orphan at an early age, an aged aunt had tried to take care of him, but when she was taken ill he found it necessary to go on the streets selling papers, while his aunt was taken to an institution. During the lifetime of his parents he had been sent to school, and so he used better language than did his fellows. He was a bright-faced, pleasant lad, and often did errands, in addition to selling papers, so he could afford to have a regular room at the Newsboys' Lodging House. At night Frank went to evening school.
"Yep, it's tough luck," went on Jimmy. "I went an' bought a new stock, an' I ain't sold five yet."
"I'll help you," generously offered Frank. "I sold out some time ago. That big fire seemed to make every one want a paper. Suppose you give me half your stock, and we'll go over by the bridge entrance and see if we can't sell them. There's a big crowd there yet."
"Dat's a good idea. T'anks. Bulldog was sayin' I ought t' have a partner, an' now I've got one."
"Yes," remarked Frank musingly, "I suppose if two boys did go into partnership they could make more at it than two could working alone. I must