"Say, boys, come 'round over here by the fountain, an' I'll show you something!" Skip Jellison shouted to a party of his friends who were seated on a curbstone, not far from the Newsboys' Lodging House, gravely discussing a business proposition which had been made by Sid Barker.

"What's the matter?" Reddy Jackson asked, replacing his fragment of a hat.

"Come over here; an' you must be quick about it, or the show will be ended."

Skip was so excited that his acquaintances and friends concluded it must be something of considerable importance to cause him to move in such a lively manner, and they followed him a short distance down the street, until it was possible to have a full view of the fountain.

There the cause of Master Jellison's agitation could be seen.

Seated on the edge of the iron basin, with a newspaper parcel unrolled in front of him, was a boy, apparently about twelve years of age, who, to the newsboy spectators, looked painfully neat and clean. Skip and his friends saw that the boy was a stranger in the city.

The newcomer had taken from their newspaper wrappings a small cake of yellow soap, and a piece of cotton cloth.

Laying these on the iron edge of the fountain basin, he calmly proceeded to wash his face and hands, using a plentiful amount of soap; and then, to the intense astonishment of the spectators, applied the impromptu towel vigorously.

"Well, that feller's too good for down-town!" Skip said, in what he intended for a sarcastic tone. "He b'longs up at the Fif' Avenoo."

"Oh, he's jest got in from the country, an' is goin' to buy Brooklyn Bridge," Sid suggested.

"Look at him! Jest look at him!" Skip cried, in mingled excitement and anger that the boy should be so criminally neat.

The stranger had taken from his valise of paper a comb, which he calmly proceeded to use, the water in the basin serving as a mirror; and then, to the surprise and disdain of the spectators, he gave his clothes a vigorous brushing with a whisk-broom.

"Well, see here!" and Skip spoke in the tone of one who is uncertain whether it is best to laugh or be angry, "that feller's makin' me tired. S'pos'n' we go over an' give him a shakin' up, jest for fun. Come on!" and Skip led the way across the street at full speed.

The stranger looked up calmly when they approached, but betrayed neither astonishment nor alarm; and Skip involuntarily halted a few paces away, as he asked, gruffly: "Say, young feller, what're you tryin' to do?"

"Can't you see?"

"I thought I did; but these chaps here made sure there must be some mistake about it."

The boy gazed critically at those who were surrounding him, and then replied:

"Well, 'cordin' to the looks of the whole crowd, I should think you might be s'prised to see a fellow wash his face an' comb his hair."

"Now, don't get too fresh," Sid said, threateningly, as he stepped forward to Skip's side. "We didn't come here to git the 'pinion of any country jay."

"Then why did you want er know?"

"'Cause. Say, you'd better mind your eye, young feller, if you count on stayin' 'round this city very long. There was a chap jest like you come down here last week tryin' to put on airs: an' his folks are huntin' for him now."

"Well, you needn't be worried anybody'll be lookin' for me, 'cause there's nobody wants to know where I am. So go ahead, if I've been doin' anything you perfessors don't like."

Sid apparently decided that it was hardly advisable for him to make too many threatening gestures, because the stranger was not at all disturbed by them, and even seemed disposed to court the possibly dreadful encounter.

He finished brushing his clothes, and then packed his "valise," by rolling the different articles carefully in the newspaper. Then, instead of going away, as Skip and his friends seemed to think he should have done as soon as they arrived, he stood with his hands on his hips, as if waiting for them to take their departure. For a minute no one spoke, and the silence was really painful.

The newsboys were mentally taking the measure of this stranger who appeared ready to defy them; and the latter finally asked, impatiently: Well, what're you fellers countin' on doin'? I reckon I'm no great sight for you to stand lookin' at.

"Do you live here?" Skip asked.

"I'm goin' to now. Had it tough enough gettin' here, an' don't feel like leavin' till I've found out what there is in this city."

"Where did you come from?"

"Up Saranac way."

"Rode down in a parlor-car, I s'pose."

"Then you s'pose wrong, 'cause I walked."

"You don't look it." And once more Skip scrutinised the stranger carefully.

"I don't reckon I do. I count on keepin' myself kind er decent. It doesn't cost anything for a feller to wash his face, comb his hair, or have his clothes clean, an' there's many a time when it'll put him through in great shape."

"Goin' to live on the interest of your money, I s'pose?"

"Well, you s'pose right this time," was the quiet reply. "That's my calkerlation; but it'll be on what I earn, not what I've got."

"Dead broke?"

"Not quite," and the boy took from his pocket a number of pennies, holding them in one hand, while he guarded himself against a possible attack. "There were twenty of 'em when I come 'cross the ferry, an' I b'lieve none of 'em have got away since."

"What are you goin' to do here?" Sid asked, beginning to fancy that possibly this stranger was a boy whom it would be worth his while to cultivate; and, in order to show his friendliness, he seated himself, in a studied attitude of careless ease, on the edge of the basin, while the others immediately followed his example.

"Whatever will bring in money enough for my keep, an' a little over."

"Thinkin' of sellin' papers?" Reddy asked.

"I reckon that'll be 'bout the first job, 'cause I've got to make money enough for my supper, or dig too big a hole in my capital."

"What's your name?"

"Teddy Thurston."

"Do you s'pose the fellers down here, what run the newspaper business, are goin' to have you comin' in takin' the bread an' butter out er their mouths?" Sid asked, angrily.

"No, I don't reckon they will; but you see I'm not after that exac'ly. You fellers'll never find me tryin' to get your bread an' butter; but I'll tell you what you can count on for a fact," and now the stranger spoke in a very decided tone, "I'm reckonin' on stickin' to the newspaper business, if there's any money in it, jest as long as I want to. I didn't travel all the way down here to get scared the first day. You see, I figger it 'bout like this: Sam Thompson, he came to the city last summer, an' some fellers—I don't know whether it was you or not—made it hot for him. It wasn't more'n a week before he was glad to walk back, although he came down in the cars. Now, I thought I'd begin right where Sam left off: I'd walk the first way, an' then, perhaps, stand a better chance of ridin' the other, if I had to go; but it's got to be boys what are bigger than I am to scare me out er the plan. I've come to stay."

"Oh, you have?" and there was no mistaking the fact that Skip was sarcastic. "We may have something to say 'bout that."

"Then you want er talk quick, 'cause after I'm settled down, it'll be a pretty hard job to make any trade with me."

"Where you goin' to begin business?"

"I don't know yet. I'll look 'round a while, an' catch on before night, somewhere. I reckon there are fellers in this town that would show a green hand how to get his papers, an' where the best places were, eh?"

"That's jest 'cordin' to how you start in, young feller," and Sid arose to his feet in order to make his words more expressive. "If you want to go to work, an' mind your eye, I don't know but it can be done; but you won't get along this way. You're puttin' on too many frills—that's what's the matter with you, an' they'll have to be taken off."

"Well, perhaps they will," and Teddy turned as if to leave his new acquaintances. "You see, I'm pretty green, an' may be countin' on doin' too much. I'll try it a spell, anyhow."

"We allers 'low, when it's 'greed a new hand can go to work, that he stands treat the first thing."

"Oh, I see! Well, I don't have to do that, 'cause it ain't been 'greed yet. When I want you fellers to tell me what I can do, perhaps I may come down 'cordin' to your idees; but jest now I've got too much business on hand;" and the stranger walked away, as if these young gentlemen, who claimed to control the newspaper business of New York City, were of no especial importance in his eyes.

"Look here, fellers," Skip said wildly, for he always contrived to work himself into a state of intense excitement over the most trifling matters, "the way he's goin' on now, he'll be the boss of Newspaper Row before mornin', 'less we take a hand in it."

"What are you goin' to do?" Sid asked in much too quiet a tone to suit his excited friend.

"Thump his head the very first time he tries to sell a paper, to start with, an' run him out er town before ter-morrer night."

"I don't see how you can tackle him now when he ain't doin' anything."

"Of course not; but he brags he's goin' to; an' the first time he tucks a bundle of papers under his arm, I'll give him one to remember!"

"Look out you don't git it the same's you did last week, over in Brooklyn!" Teenie Massey cried, in his shrillest tones, which hardly ever failed to excite Master Skip's anger.

"Don't you mind how I got it over in Brooklyn! I'll tend to my business; you tend to yours. If we waited for you to do anything, we'd all be bald-headed," was Skip's answer to this taunt; but Teenie was not at all abashed. It was his favourite amusement to arouse Skip's anger, and rely upon his diminutive stature to escape a whipping; for Master Jellison prided himself upon his ability to flog any fellow of his size in New York. "You fellers meet me in front of The Times office at noon, an' I'll show him up in great shape, 'less he comes to hisself before then, which I reckon he will, 'cause he'll never have the nerve to stand up ag'in' the whole crowd of us," said Skip.

Meanwhile the stranger was apparently giving no heed to the young tyrant who had decided it would be impossible for him to remain in the city; but continued on his way down-town, ignorant of, and, perhaps, careless regarding, the fact that he was to be debarred from earning a livelihood by selling newspapers, if Skip Jellison's power was as great as he would have others believe.