It could be understood that Teenie was a frequent visitor by the familiar manner in which he threaded his way amid the obstacles before reaching Carrots's very retired residence.

"Old man," said Teenie, "this is ever so much nicer a place to live in than a reg'lar house."

"Yes," the host replied, grimly; "'specially when the nights are cold, or it rains. I s'pose you'd rather have the water comin' in on you than not, when you're asleep, wouldn't you?"

"Well, I didn't mean it jest that way," Teenie replied; "but when you get in here an' have the candle lighted, it allers seems mighty fine. I got mother to let me come down an' stay all night with you."

"There! that's jest what I thought you was up to," Carrots said, in rather a cross tone.

"Why, what's the matter? Don't you want me?" Teenie asked in surprise.

"Of course I'm glad to have you come, Teenie; but I am busy to-night, an' talkin' with you is bound to upset things."

"What are you doin'?"

"You see, I took the job of gettin' that feller from Saranac out er the station-house; an' it's goin' to be a pretty hard one, I'm 'fraid, as things are lookin' now. If I can get him clear of the scrape, you'll see some fun one of these days, 'cause this thing ain't goin' to stop here, I'll tell you that. I only wish I knew what ought ter be done."

"How have you been tryin' to fix it?"

"Well, I've talked with some of the fellers that saw the row, to get 'em to go down to court an' tell how it happened; but they're so terribly 'fraid of Skip they don't dare to say their souls are their own."

"Well, I do," Teenie replied, bravely. "I saw the whole of the scrap, 'cause I was there before it began."

"Will you tell that when the chap's brought inter court to-morrow mornin'?"

"'Course I will, if you'll stand by me in case Skip tries to come his funny business; 'cause that's what he says he's goin' to do to anybody who helps the feller from the country."

"I'll stand by you, Teenie, if that's what you want; an' if we do get Teddy clear, there'll be three of us. Skip won't dare to tackle as big a crowd as that."

"No; but you see the feller ain't out, an' I can't figger how it's goin' to be done."

"We'll tell the judge jest what we saw."

"I don't b'lieve we'll get the chance. They wouldn't let you go anywhere near him, 'less you had a lawyer."

"We've got to fix it somehow."

"Why not get a lawyer?"

"Now you're goin' crazy, Teenie Massey. It costs as much as a dollar to get one of them fellows to go to court. They come high!"

"Don't you s'pose you could hire one, an' let him take it out in trade?"

"By jiminy! I never thought of that. I wonder if I couldn't?"

"It wouldn't do any harm to try. I sell papers to a man that would come an' 'tend to the whole business, I guess, if you'd 'gree to black his boots so many times a week."

"I'd 'gree to black him all over, if he'd do what I want. Where does he hang out?"

"I'll show you in the mornin'. Been to supper?"

"Yes; had a little spread up to Delmonico's. It wasn't much, an' charlotte roosters an' sich things as that ain't fillin', you know."

"I kinder thought you might be hungry, so I got mother to do up a lunch." And Teenie drew from his pocket a small parcel of cold roast meat, adding to it from another pocket five boiled eggs.

"Say, we'll have a reg'lar lay-out, won't we?" Carrots said, as he surveyed the food with the keenest pleasure.

"Now I reckon you can kind er ease up on your business long enough to 'tend to this stuff, can't you?" Teenie answered.

"Well, I should say so! You're a brick, Teenie, an' I wish you'd come every night."

"Business would have to be pretty good if I was goin' to have such a spread as this right along. I've been to supper, so you pitch in."

"S'pose we put it away for a while? It hasn't been so long since I ate that lot o' quails, you know; and I can hold on a spell, an' we'll be hungry before we're ready to go to sleep."

Teenie was satisfied; and he reclined carelessly in one corner of the packing-case home, enjoying himself to the utmost.

Carrots followed his example, and soon the two were busily engaged discussing the probable outcome of Teddy's case, as well as the possibility of engaging a lawyer upon the condition of his being willing to accept the fee "in trade."

Not until a late hour was the lunch disposed of; and then, nestling into the straw, the two were ready for slumber.

Owing to the peculiar location of his home, and the necessity of keeping his whereabouts a profound secret, Carrots was obliged to arise at a very early hour, in order to leave the residence before any of the clerks in the shop should arrive. Therefore it was that the host and his guest were on the street shortly after sunrise.

Of course it would have been folly to look for the attorney in his office at such an hour, and the possibility of doing any business before seven or eight o'clock was so slight that Carrots, with the recklessness of a spendthrift, invited his friend to a breakfast at Mose Pearson's, even though it involved an expenditure of fully one-fifth of his entire wealth.

"We'll kind er need somethin' to brace us up," he said, in explanation of his generous invitation.

As a matter of course, Master Massey was not proof against the kind hospitality, and so he very willingly followed his friend to Mr. Pearson's establishment, which was located in the basement of a dwelling on Baxter Street.

When the boys, leisurely, and with the air of capitalists, sauntered out on the street once more, they looked thoroughly contented with the world in general, and themselves in particular.

"We'd better get up somewhere near the lawyer's office before that Skip Jellison comes 'round," Teenie said.

Carrots recognized the wisdom of this advice at once; and the two, keeping a sharp lookout lest Master Jellison should spring upon them unawares, made their way to Centre Street, where for an hour and a half they waited in the hallway of the building in which the lawyer with whom Teenie was acquainted had an office.

On his arrival it was evident the gentleman did not recognize them as two possible clients, for he passed without even a nod to the boy who claimed to be his friend, entered the office, and closed the door behind him.

"Why, he doesn't even know you!" Carrots exclaimed, in a tone of reproach.

"Oh, yes, he does; but you see it's kind er dark in here, an' I s'pose he couldn't see my face very well, or he didn't notice."

"What are you goin' to do 'bout it?"

"Wait till he gets settled, an' then we'll go up an' call on him. You do the talkin', while I stand back an' 'gree to all you say."

Now that they were where the scheme could be carried into execution, Carrots was by no means confident it would be a success, and actually felt rather timid about making the attempt; but, urged on by Teenie, he finally mustered up courage to open the door of the office. He stood on the threshold, gazing first at the attorney and then back at his friend.

"Well, what do you want?" the gentleman asked, looking inquiringly at the boy.

This question appeared to restore to Carrots a certain portion of his self-possession, and he entered the room, standing in the middle of the floor as he beckoned to his friend to follow.

"What do you want?" the lawyer asked again, impatiently.

"Well, you see—I come—we want—"

"Out with it. What did you come for?"

Teenie nudged his friend from behind, as a sign that he should speak up promptly; and Carrots, catching his breath much as one does after a plunge in cold water, began:

"There's a feller what walked down from Saranac, that's goin' to be took inter the Tombs court this mornin' for fightin' in City Hall Park, an' we've come to see how much it would cost to hire you to git him out."

"I might defend him, but I couldn't agree to get him out. That depends on the judge."

"Well, you could make the talk, an' I reckon when the thing's put up right they'll have to let him go, 'cause he didn't do anything."

"Suppose you tell me the whole story, and I shall be better able to judge what they may be obliged to do."

"It was jest like this: You see, Skip he come up an' hit Teddy in the jaw, and Teddy tried to hit back. Skip let out with a left-hander; Teddy warded it off. Then Skip jumped; down went the papers. Skip got frightened of a cop; he started to run, Teddy after him, an' Teddy was 'rested, and that's all there is 'bout it."

"That may be the whole of the story; but I must confess I don't understand it yet."

"Why, it's plain enough. You see, Skip he struck out, an' Teddy warded it off—"

"Now wait a moment. Tell me which boy is arrested."

"Why, Teddy, of course. You don't s'pose we'd come here if it had been Skip? I wish it was. He'd stay there a good while, for all I'd care."

"Who is this Teddy?"

"He's a feller what walked down from Saranac, an' got here yesterday mornin'; but jest as he was goin' to sell papers up jumped Skip, 'cause he thinks he owns the whole town, an' 'lowed he was goin' to clean Teddy right out. Now, I never did think Skip could fight any great deal, 'cause how was it when he was over to Brooklyn, an' that feller tackled him?"

"Try to tell me the story as I want to hear it. You say Teddy was arrested?"

"Why, it's worse'n that! He's in the station-house!"

"Certainly; if he is arrested. On what charge was he taken?"

"Eh?"

"I mean why did the officer take him?"

"Why? 'Cause the park policeman said he was fightin'; but he wasn't. He was only beginnin'. He might uv licked Skip, too, if they'd let him alone. I know by the way he put up his hands."

"Then it seems, according to your story, that he really was fighting."

"How could he, when he hadn't even commenced? Skip hit him, an' knocked the papers out er his hands, an' then he was goin' to lick Skip, but didn't have time."

The attorney was a patient man, and, possibly, the boy's manner of telling the story amused him; therefore he continued asking questions, preventing any detailed account of previous quarrels which Skip might have had, until he was in possession of all the important facts, when he asked:

"Do you know what a lawyer usually charges for such a case as this?"

"Now you're comin' right down to dots!" Carrots said, beginning to feel more at ease since the attorney treated him in such a friendly fashion. "You see, this feller hasn't got any money, an' I don't claim to be a millionaire myself. I know lawyers charge a good deal for doin' a little o' nothin'; but I thought if you'd kind er take it out in trade, we might make a bargain."

"What business are you in?"

"I shine boots; an' if you'll get this feller out er the scrape, I'll come in here an' black your boots every mornin' this year, for nothin'. You can't make a better trade'n that if you should look 'round a good while."

"That is quite a contract you are proposing."

"I know it; but you see I want ter make it an object for you to get Teddy out."

"That can be done only in the proper manner. The question is whether you have any witnesses to prove that this boy was not really fighting, and that he had sufficient provocation to excuse his trying to thrash the other one."

"Sufficient what?"

"Provocation. That is, whether what had been done was enough to warrant an attempt to whip this other boy; for, as I understand it, that is really what he did try to do."

"Why, of course; he had to. How'd you like it if a feller sneaked up an' whacked you in the face when you wasn't doin' anything, an' knocked your papers in the mud."

"It wouldn't be very pleasant, I'll admit; but how can you prove that such was the case? Who saw the beginning of the trouble?"

"I did, an' Teenie, an' lots of other fellers; but they wouldn't dare to tell it for fear Skip might thump 'em. He calls hisself a fighter."

"Then you two are willing to run the risk, and tell your story in court, are you?"

"Of course we are; but will you go an' get him out?"

"Suppose I should take this case, and spend an hour or two on it, how do I know you would come here each morning to black my boots, as you propose?"

"How do you know? Why, ain't Teenie here, an' don't he hear what I say? That's enough to make a trade if you've got a witness, ain't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is," the lawyer replied, laughingly. "I don't see any other way for me but to take the case. Go to the Tombs, and wait there until I come."

"You'll be sure to be on hand before they bring him down, eh?"

"I won't neglect it."

With this assurance the boys left the office, and, once on the outside, Carrots said to his friend, in a tone of relief:

"Well, now that's fixed, an' I guess we needn't bother any more 'bout Teddy's gettin' out; but there'll be an awful row when Skip hears what we've done, an' you an' I've got to stand right 'longside of each other if he tries any funny business. We must look out for him."

This suggestion that they would stand together against Teddy's enemy was far from displeasing to Master Massey.

In the seclusion of the packing-case home he could talk boldly about what Skip might yet be able to do; but once on the street, where it was possible to meet the bully at any moment, the matter assumed a different aspect, and he began to realize the danger in which he had thus voluntarily placed himself.

"It won't do for us to hang 'round here, 'cause he's likely to come any minute," Teenie said, in a tremulous tone. "I think we'd better go down to the Tombs, an' then we'll be on hand when the lawyer wants us."

This was a very good idea, and Carrots led the way at a rapid pace, both taking heed lest they should accidentally meet Skip.