It has been already stated that Rough and Ready had made a careful estimate of his expenses, and found that to meet them, including clothing, he must average seven dollars and seventy-two cents weekly. He might get along on less, but he was ambitious of maintaining himself and his sister in comfort.

This was a considerable sum for a newsboy to earn, and most boys in our hero's position would have felt discouraged. But Rough and Ready had an uncommon degree of energy and persistence, and he resolutely determined that in some way the weekly sum should be obtained. In some honest way, of course, for our hero, though not free from faults, was strictly honest, and had never knowingly appropriated a cent that did not justly belong to him. But he was not averse to any method by which he might earn an honest penny.

During the first fortnight after Rose came under the charge of Miss Manning, the newsboy earned fifteen dollars. His expenses during that time, including the amount paid for his sister, amounted to ten dollars and a half. This left four dollars and a half clear. This sum Rufus put into a savings-bank, knowing that after a time it would be necessary to purchase clothing both for himself and his sister, and for this purpose a reserve fund would be required.

One day, after selling his supply of morning papers, he wandered down to the Battery. This, as some of my readers may need to be informed, is a small park situated at the extreme point of Manhattan Island. It was on a delightful promenade, covered with grass, and shaded by lofty sycamore-trees. Around it formerly lived some of the oldest and most aristocratic families in the city. But its ancient glory, its verdure and beauty, have departed, and it is now unsightly and neglected. None of its old attractions remain, except the fine view which it affords of the bay, the islands, and fortifications, and the opposite shores of New Jersey. The old families have moved far up-town, and the neighborhood is given to sailors' boarding-houses, warehouses, and fourth-rate hotels and bar-rooms.

The newsboy strayed into one of these bar-rooms, not with any idea of drinking, for he never had been tempted to drink. The example of his stepfather had been sufficient to disgust him with intemperance. But it was an idle impulse that led him to enter. He sat down in a chair, and took up a copy of the "Morning Herald," of which he had sold a considerable number of copies, without having had a chance to read it.

Chancing to cast his eyes on the floor, he saw a pocket-book. He stooped down and picked it up, and slipped it into his pocket. He looked about him to see if there was any one present that was likely to have lost it. But, besides the bar-keeper, there was no one in the room except a rough-looking laborer in his shirt-sleeves, and it was evident that it did not belong to him, as he drew from his vest-pocket the money with which he paid for his potation.

The newsboy concluded that the pocket-book belonged to some patron of the bar, who had dropped it, and gone away without missing it. The question came up, what should he do with it? Was it his duty to hand it to the bar-keeper?

He decided that it was not. Bar-keepers are apt to have easy consciences, and this one was not a very attractive representative of his class. He would undoubtedly pocket the wallet and its contents, and the true owner, if he should ever turn up, would stand very little chance of recovering his money.

These reflections quickly passed through the mind of our hero, and he decided to retain the pocket-book, and consult some one, in whom he reposed confidence, as to the proper course to pursue. He had no idea how much the wallet contained, and did not venture to examine it while he remained where he was. He decided to ask Mr. O'Connor, the superintendent of the Lodging House, what he had better do under the circumstances.

"I will remain here awhile," thought Rough and Ready. "Maybe the owner of the wallet will miss it, and come back for it. If he does, and I am sure it is his, I will give it up. But I won't give it to the bar-keeper; I don't like his looks."

So Rufus remained in his seat reading the "Herald." He had never read the paper so faithfully before. While he was still reading, a sailor staggered in. He had evidently been drinking before, and showed the effects of it.

"A glass of rum," he said, in a thick voice.

"All right, sir," said the bar-keeper, obsequiously.

"I'm bound to have a jolly time," said the sailor. "I've just come back from a voyage, and I mean to make the money fly while I have it."

So saying, he drew out half-a-dozen bank-bills, rolled up tightly together.

"That's the talk," said the bar-keeper, complaisantly. "Nothing like being jolly."

"I say, you drink with me," said the sailor. "I don't want to drink alone."

"Certainly, thank you;" and the bar-keeper poured out a glass for himself.

"Isn't there anybody that would like a drink?" said the sailor.

He looked around him, and his glance fell on Rough and Ready.

"Won't that boy drink?" he asked.

"You had better ask him."

"I say, won't you have a drink?" said the sailor, turning to the newsboy.

"No, I thank you," said the newsboy.

"Are you too proud to drink with a rough fellow like me?"

"No," said our hero; "but I never drink. I don't like it."

"Well, my lad, I don't know but you're right," said the sailor, more soberly. "My mother asked me not to drink; but I couldn't hold out. Don't do it, if you don't like it."

The bar-keeper by this time thought fit to interfere.

"Look here, boy," he said, angrily, "we don't want any temperance lectures here. You've stayed as long as you're wanted. You needn't come in here hurting our trade."

Rough and Ready did not think it necessary to answer this tirade, but laid down the paper and went out, carrying the pocket-book with him, of course. He did not open it, even after he got into the street, for the action would be noticed, and it might excite suspicion if he were seen counting over a roll of bills, which he judged from the feeling the wallet contained.

It was now time to lay in his supply of afternoon papers, and he therefore turned his steps to the offices, and was soon busily engaged in disposing of them. Indeed, so busily was he occupied, that he quite forgot he had the wallet in his possession. The papers sold readily, and it was not till he was ready to go to supper with Miss Manning and Rose that the thought of his discovery returned to him.

"I will wait and open the pocket-book when I get to the room," he said to himself.

"Well, Rose," he said, gayly, on entering the room, "what do you think I've found?"

"I wish it was a kitten," said Rose.

"No, it isn't that," said Rufus, laughing, "and I don't think I should take the trouble to pick it up, if I did find one."

"Do you like kittens, Rose?" asked Miss Manning.

"Yes, very much," said Rose; "they are so pretty and playful."

"Would you like to have me get one for you?"

"Will you?" asked the child, eagerly.

"Yes; there's a lodger on the lower floor has three. No doubt she will give us one."

"But won't it trouble you, Miss Manning?" asked the newsboy. "If it will, don't get it. Rose can get along without it."

"Oh, I like kittens myself," said Miss Manning; "I should really like one."

"Now I like dogs best," said Rough and Ready.

"Most boys do, I believe," said the seamstress.

"But kittens are much prettier, Rufie," said Rose.

"They'll scratch, and dogs won't," said the newsboy; "but if you like a kitten, and Miss Manning is kind enough to get you one, I shall be glad to have her do so. But you seem to have forgotten all about my discovery."

"What is it, Rufie?"

Rough and Ready drew the pocket-book from his pocket, and displayed it.

"Where did you find it, Rufus?" asked Miss Manning.

"Is there much money in it, Rufie?" asked his sister.

"I don't know yet, I'll look and see, and afterwards I'll tell where I found it."

He opened the wallet, and drew out a roll of bills. Spreading them open, he began to count. To his surprise they proved to be bills of a large denomination. There was one one-hundred-dollar bill, five twenties, six tens, and eight fives. He raised his eyes in surprise.

"Why, here are three hundred dollars," he said.

"Three hundred dollars!" exclaimed Rose, clapping her hands. "Why Rufie, how rich you are!"

"But it isn't my money, Rose," he said. "You must remember that. I may find the owner."

"Oh, I hope you won't," said the little girl, looking disappointed.

"But it isn't right to wish that, Rose," said Miss Manning. "Suppose you had lost the money, you would like to have it returned to you, would you not?"

"I suppose I should," said Rose; "but three hundred dollars would do us a great deal of good. You and Rufie wouldn't have to work so hard."

"As for me, hard work won't hurt me," said the newsboy. "I rather enjoy it, now that I don't have to give my wages to Mr. Martin to buy rum with."

"Have you seen him lately?"

"Not since the time I mentioned. But now I will tell you where I found this money."

Hereupon the newsboy gave the account which is already known to the reader. It will, of course, be unnecessary to repeat it here. When he had finished speaking, Miss Manning asked, "Well, Rufus, what do you intend to do about the money?"

"I am going to ask Mr. O'Connor's advice about it to-night," said our hero. "Whatever he says I ought to do, I will do."

"Perhaps you won't find any owner, Rufie."

"We won't count our eggs before they are hatched," said Rufus, "and speaking of eggs, when are you going to give us some more for supper, Miss Manning? Those we had Monday were bully."

"We'll have them often, if you like them, Rufus," said the seamstress.

In five minutes they sat down to supper, in which, as usual, Rufus did full justice.