Although Carrots had pretended that Skip's threats neither frightened nor disturbed him, he was thoroughly uncomfortable in mind.

He knew by past experience what Master Jellison could and would do, with no provocation whatever, save only a desire to exercise that authority which he had assumed.

Carrots believed, however, that in case of an encounter with a boy who was ready and forced to defend himself, Skip would not prove so great a master of the "manly art of self-defense" as he claimed to be.

But such a champion had not as yet been found.

Teenie Massey had chanced to be in Brooklyn about a week before the arrival of Teddy in the city, and upon his return home he had stated that he had seen Master Jellison attack a boy not nearly so large as himself, on Pineapple Street in that city, and receive a sound beating.

"He wasn't in it at all, from the time they begun," Teenie had stated to his friends; and on more than one occasion he had referred to this defeat in the presence of Skip himself.

It is but fair to say, however, that Skip Jellison positively denied the truth of any such statement. In explanation of the blackened eye and badly swollen lip he brought from Brooklyn, he announced that he had been set upon by a crowd of young ruffians.

"Of course a feller's goin' to get some clips when he tackles a dozen or fifteen fellers at once," Skip explained to an admiring audience, shortly after Master Massey's story had been noised about the streets; "but every one of 'em got it worse'n I did, an' it wasn't more'n five minutes before all hands were runnin' lickertysplit up Fulton Street. I reckon they didn't stop till they got to Prospect Park. Teenie wants to make out a good story; but it's all a whopper, an' he knows it."

Now, although Carrots believed that Master Massey had told the truth in regard to what really occurred in Brooklyn, Carrots did not feel competent to take upon himself the task of cowing the bully; and he felt reasonably certain Skip would carry his threats into effect should occasion arise.

Carrots was also quite positive the occasion would arise, because he did not intend to desert Teddy.

"I'm goin' right ahead with what I 'greed to do," he said to himself. "If Skip wants to thump me for it, I s'pose I'll have to let him."

These reflections were interrupted by Reddy Jackson, who asked, as he approached and halted in front of Carrots:

"Seen Skip lately?"

"He jest went away. Been' round, kinder reg'latin' the town. Goin' to rest hisself, 'cause he's most played out workin' so hard."

"Did he tell you anything?"

"Yes; thought I was rather meddlin' with his business; but I don't see how that is."

"Now look here, Carrots; I'm a friend of yours, an' don't want ter see any trouble come out er this thing. Skip's jest wild 'bout what you've told the other fellers, an' I reckon he'll do as he says if you try to help that feller what got 'rested."

"You 'lowed you was a friend of mine, didn't you, Reddy?"

"That's what I said."

"Well, then, why don't you show it by helpin' me stand up 'gainst sich a bully as Skip Jellison is, 'stead of comin' here and tellin' me what he's goin' to do? To hear some of you fellers talk, anybody'd think he was a reg'lar rhinoceros huntin' 'round to eat folks. Now, it's jest like this: I've got to help that feller, 'cause I promised him."

"But you don't even know who he is."

"I didn't ask him to write out a history 'bout hisself, an' swear to it, so's I could tell you fellers; but he's like all the rest of us, got to hustle for a livin', an' has come down here to do it. Now what business is that of Skip Jellison's? He doesn't own this town—ain't even got a mortgage on it—yet he makes out this feller can't stay, an' tries to lick him. Now, I s'pose you think it's mighty smart to try an' shove that country feller down?"

"You don't know anything 'bout it, Carrots. He put on more frills this mornin' than you ever saw in a circus procession. We ain't goin' to stand that; of course not."

"I s'pose it broke your heart 'cause his face was clean, didn't it?" And it was apparent from Carrots's tone that he was losing his temper.

"Oh, well, go ahead, an' see how you'll come out, that's all. I jest thought I'd tell you so's you wouldn't get into a fuss with Skip; but if this is the way you're goin' on, why, let her flicker, for all I care."

"I'm much obliged to you for bein' so willin'; an' when I want another favor I'll call 'round an' see you," Carrots replied, as he turned on his heel, while Reddy walked rapidly away.

"It looks as if I'd got to put this thing through alone," Carrots said to himself; "an' if that's so, it'll be a good idea for me to keep away from where Skip is, 'cause if he should get a whack at me, I'm afraid I wouldn't be in a condition to do much of anything for a day or two."

Carrots visited all of his acquaintances in whom he felt he could confide, trying to enlist their sympathies in the work which he had undertaken.

Unfortunately for his purpose, however, he did not find any who were willing, simply because of the stranger, to brave the doughty Skip's wrath; and nearly every one advised Carrots to "give it up before he got into trouble."

Not until nearly nightfall was the well-disposed bootblack willing to cease his efforts in this particular direction.

Then he repaired to a certain restaurant on Baxter Street, where he appeared to be well acquainted with the waiters, and called for a hearty meal of corned beef and potatoes, at the expense of fifteen cents—an unusual amount for him, as could have been told by the remark which the waiter made.

"Ain't you spreadin' yourself some to-night, Carrots?"

"Well, it does look a little that way; but, you see, I've got a lot of business on hand, and I need to be braced up a bit."

"Bought out some other bootblack, or found a bigger line of customers?"

"Well, no; I'm buyin' stocks now. The Wall Street men are kind er 'fraid I'll down 'em, an' they're makin' me hustle."

"Oh!—gone into the Stock Exchange, eh?"

"Well, I haven't been any further than the gallery yet; but that's all right. You don't want ter put in a piece of pie with this corned beef, an' take the chance of a rise in Western Union for the pay, do you?"

"No, I guess not. It would be too much like speculatin'."

"Well, I didn't s'pose you would; but I'm comin' 'round here in the mornin' to give your boss some points about runnin' his business," Carrots replied; and, handing over his money, he walked with a majestic air into the street.

Having thus refreshed the inner man, Carrots bent his way in the direction of the station-house.

It was his intention to ask for an interview with the prisoner who had been arrested in City Hall Park, and he felt extremely doubtful whether this request would be granted, until he entered the building and recognized in the sergeant behind the desk an old customer.

His surprise at meeting a friend, when he had expected to see the stern visage of a mere servant of justice, was quite as great as it was pleasing; and he marched up to the desk and said, familiarly:

"If I'd knowed you was here, I'd 'a' come before."

"I don't want my boots shined now. See you outside in the morning," said the sergeant.

"But I ain't shinin'; I'm on business."

"Oh, you are, eh? Well, what's up?"

"One of the pleecemen 'round City Hall arrested a feller this mornin' what had jest walked down from Saranac; an' it's all wrong, I tell you,—all wrong."

"He's a friend of yours, I suppose?"

"Well, you can't exactly call him that. I never spoke to him till jest before this thing happened. I want ter git him right out, on 'portant business."

"I'm afraid you will have to wait a little while, and explain the whole affair to the judge in the morning. I haven't any authority to do a thing like that."

"Couldn't you fix it with the judge?"

"No, indeed," the officer replied, laughingly. "The best way is for you to go to the court yourself, and explain how it happened, unless he is really guilty, in which case I suppose he will have to go to the Island. I fancy a week up there wouldn't do him any harm."

"But, you see, it was jest this way"—and Carrots assumed an attitude such as one takes when about to begin a long story.

"Never mind it now. I can't stop to listen; and, besides, it wouldn't do any good."

Carrots looked up as if surprised that an old friend should assume a dictatorial tone, and then, suddenly remembering that he had another favour to ask, added:

"Well, you can let me see him, can't you?"

"What good will that do?"

"Why, I jest want to brace him up a little. You see, he's pretty green, an' he must be feelin' awful bad by this time. I won't stay more'n five minutes, if you'll let me see him."

"All right; go down-stairs. You'll find him in one of the cells; and if the turnkey says anything, tell him I sent you."

Carrots did not wait for further instructions; but, fearful lest the permission should be withdrawn, hurried down the stairs at once, and was making a tour of the cells with the purpose of finding his friend, when the officer in charge stopped him.

"What do you want here?"

"The sergeant sent me down to see a friend of mine, that's all; an' I'm lookin' for him."

"The boy they brought in this noon?"

"That's the very one."

"He's over there; third cell from the end."

Carrots walked quickly to the place, looked in through the grated door, and saw Teddy lying on a wooden bench, which served the double purpose of a seat and a bed. The young prisoner's face was covered by his hands.

"Come, old man," Carrots said, soothingly, "you ought ter have more sand than to give up like this. Besides, ain't I here to help you?"

Teddy leaped to his feet immediately, and came to the door, through which Carrots thrust a very grimy hand as he said:

"Shake hands! Brace up, an' have some style about you! I've been 'tendin' to your business pretty nigh ever since you was gone, an' thought I'd jest run in to let you know everything will be all right; but you'll have to stay here till mornin'."

"Till mornin'?" Teddy repeated in dismay.

"Yes; that ain't sich a very long while, an' it'll take me till then to get things fixed."

"How did they happen to let you in?"

"Oh, you see, the sergeant is an old friend of mine. I've blacked his boots, on an' off, for 'most a year."

Then Carrots, with the hope of cheering his friend, began to explain what might be done toward effecting the prisoner's release; and when it was time to bring the interview to a close, he had so far succeeded that Teddy was really quite hopeful, believing there was no serious obstacle in the way of his freedom.

Bidding Teddy adieu, Carrots left the station-house.

It was now so nearly dark that Carrots turned in the direction of his own home, for the purpose of gaining as much rest as possible before beginning what looked like a hard piece of work.

Now Carrots was a householder in his own right, or at least by right of discovery.

More than one of his acquaintances had been eager to know where he lived; but he avoided all questions on the subject, save to one person—Teenie Massey.

In addition to his being a trusted friend, Teenie lived with his parents; therefore, when Carrots revealed the secret, it was with the knowledge that Master Massey would not wish to share the dwelling with him.

To avoid interference, Carrots always approached his home in the most cautious manner, and this occasion was no exception.

He walked leisurely along in the direction of Canal Street, as if going nowhere in particular, for the purpose of misleading any friends whom he might meet; and, on arriving at an alleyway which ran between two shops, he halted for an instant to make sure the coast was clear.

He recognized no one in the immediate vicinity, and, wheeling sharply around, ran swiftly up the narrow passage, climbed over a board fence, and dropped lightly into a yard in the rear of a business establishment.

Here was an enormous collection of packing-cases, some stacked in regular order, and others lying carelessly around wherever they might have chanced to fall when taken from the shop by the employÉs. To Carrots, however, the yard was as familiar as any of the city streets.

He knew exactly where each case should be, unless, perchance, there had been some addition made to the collection since his departure from home; and, although it was dark, proceeded without difficulty until he arrived at one corner of the yard, where, by pulling out an unusually large box, he disclosed a narrow passage running along the side of the fence.

It was not possible to walk upright through this opening, owing to the lumber above; but, once Master Carrots arrived at the further end, he found as snug and comfortable a dwelling as it would be reasonable for any boy in Master Carrots's walk of life to desire.

Two cases, facing each other at an interval sufficiently wide for a small person to enter, formed an apartment four or five feet square; and, although it was impossible for Carrots even to stand erect, he could sit or lie down in a most comfortable fashion.

A small bundle of straw, taken from some of the other cases, made a bed for the bootblack; and directly opposite this impromptu couch were Carrots's household treasures.

A bottle which served as a candlestick, a cigar-box as pantry in case he chanced to lay in a stock of provisions, a well-worn brush, several empty blacking-boxes, and a miscellaneous collection of odds and ends, were packed in one corner with the utmost neatness.

On arriving at his home, Carrots lighted the candle in order to render the apartment more cheerful; and then he sat down with his chin in his hands, trying to decide how it would be possible to keep the promise made to Teddy.

Before he had succeeded in solving the problem, however, a shrill whistle was heard from the alleyway, and Carrots muttered to himself as he crawled through the passage out from among the boxes:

"I wonder what Teenie Massey wants? A feller that's got so much business on his hands as I have can't 'ford to waste a great deal of time with visitors."

"Hi! Carrots, are you there?" Teenie asked.

"Of course I am! Where do you s'pose a feller would be at this time of night?"

"I'm comin' over!"

"Well, come, then; an' don't make so much noise about it. Nobody knows who may be 'round here;" and Master Carrots retraced his steps to the packing-case dwelling.