It is doubtful if Carrots often had a harder task than that of remaining silent on the subject of the news-stand, when he went down-town to work immediately after it had been purchased.

He had allowed himself to dwell upon the possibility of owning an interest in a stand, with a magnificent chair attached for the benefit of customers to the bootblacking portion of the establishment, from the moment Teddy first spoke of the scheme; and now that it was really a fact, with the exception of the chair, it seemed particularly hard that he must keep the startling and pleasing information a profound secret.

"P'rhaps it's jest as well not to flash it up on the boys till after we get the whole thing in style—bootblack's quarters an' all," he said to himself in the hope of cheering his mind. "When she's in shape I reckon some of the fellers in this town will find out that I can do a thing or two, even if my hair is red!"

The fact that he was soon to become famous in the eyes of his friends, if not of the entire world, did not prevent Carrots from plunging into the vortex of business with his whole heart; for he understood how necessary it was to earn the extra money which would be needed until the business establishment was in a proper financial condition, and he worked most industriously.

It was hard to keep his thoughts upon the cleaning of muddy boots when he knew that at that moment Ikey was presiding over the stand with a "whole dollar's worth" of stock in front of him, and more than once was he tempted to leave his business sufficiently long to take just one peep at the place.

"I could sneak up there, an' look 'round the corner without anybody's seein' me," he said to himself once when trade was dull; but, remembering what Teddy had told him regarding the necessity of "hustling," he put the temptation far from his mind.

He did, however, so far give an inkling of the change in his business prospects, as to say, when Teenie Massey spoke about the difficulty of finding customers:

"P'rhaps there's some in this town what won't have to run 'round after trade very long; but can sit down an' wait for boots to come to them."

"What do you mean?" Teenie asked, excitedly.

"Nothin' much; but you'll see somethin' to 'stonish you before many years."

"I reckon I will," Teenie replied with a sigh, as he thought how the time might drag if he should be forced to wait so long before seeing anything astonishing. "Heard from Skip this mornin'?"

"No, an' I'm takin' mighty good care to keep out of his way when the three of us ain't together. I wonder if he'll have the nerve to set them boxes afire?"

"I shouldn't wonder. Where are you goin' to sleep to-night?"

"Well, you see it's hard to say, 'cause all the swell places might be full when we get through business. I didn't know but I'd telephone up to the Hoffman for quarters; yet there's a good deal of trouble in doin' sich a thing."

"Yes," Teenie replied, sarcastically, "an' it might be quite a bother to pay the bill for the message."

"I'd be willin' to hang it up, if I was countin' on doin' anything of that kind."

"Yes, but the other folks might have somethin' to say 'bout it. It'll be cheaper to hunt for a cart somewhere, or go down to the Lodgin' House."

If Teenie had questioned him more closely, Carrots might have been tempted to tell his friend some ridiculous yarn, rather than reveal the secret of the stand; but, fortunately, there was no necessity of his doing anything of the kind, for just at that moment the bootblacking industry received a decided impetus by the arrival of three gentlemen from the country, who required the services of Carrots and his friend.

Not until nearly noon did Master Williams see his partner, and then he met him by chance on the way to the newspaper offices for a fresh stock.

"How's trade?" Teddy asked.

"First-class. I've taken in eighty cents since I began; but it's slackenin' off a little now. How're you gettin' along?"

"Great! It seems as if it wasn't any trouble to sell papers to-day. Say, at this rate we can get in a bigger stock by night."

"That's what we want," Carrots replied, gravely, looking as serious as if he had just been called upon to decide a very important question relative to some business policy. "We ought ter make as big a show as we can, 'cause folks will see the stand has been opened ag'in, an' they'll look 'round the first thing to find out if we've got much of a stock. Of course we're goin' to keep all the weekly papers, ain't we?"

"I don't know if we ought ter put out so much money yet a while."

"'Course we ought. Pitch in an' have things fine. We can 'ford to invest what's been made to-day, and you'd better buy the stuff right away," Carrots said as he handed Teddy the money he had earned. "I'll get more between now an' night to buy the supper with, so you don't want ter tend to anything like that."

Teddy was undecided as to whether this would be a wise move, so soon after taking upon themselves the expense of paying rent; but his partner was so eager it should be done that he finally consented, and hurried away to buy the additional stock, while Carrots searched for customers.

It seemed strange to both the merchants that Skip Jellison made no effort to annoy them on this day, and they could account for it only on the supposition that he did really intend to carry out his plan of destroying the packing-case home by fire.

No one should censure Carrots for ceasing his labors at an unusually early hour because of the fact that he was exceedingly anxious to see his place of business in full operation, with a clerk behind the counter.

In addition to this desire, he had promised himself that, if trade should be brisk, he would purchase a regular feast as a sort of house-warming, a task which would require no slight amount of time.

And business had been sufficiently good to warrant his indulging in his treat.

He did not remember ever having made so much money, in the same length of time, as on this day the stand was opened.

He had given to Teddy his entire receipts of the forenoon, and yet, an hour before sunset, he had taken in sixty cents more, which was at least twice as much as he thought would be necessary for his purpose.

So determined was he that the feast should be a perfect success that fully an hour was spent in selecting the different articles, and then he walked swiftly toward their new establishment.

It did not suit Carrots's purpose to go directly to the stand.

He wished to view it first at a distance, and from the most favorable point, therefore he came up Grand Street, and stood on the opposite corner fully ten minutes enjoying the scene, before making known his presence to the "clerk."

"Well," he said to himself, in a tone of satisfaction, as he surveyed the stand critically, "if there's a better-lookin' place in this city, I'd like to see it, that's all! Why, it seems to be chuck full of papers! An' don't the pictures show up great? Well, I should say they did! I wish it was a little greener; but if business gits good we can give it a new coat of paint some night. An' I own half of all that! I'm comin' it mighty strong, 'cordin' to my way of—Jiminy!—Ikey's sellin' somethin' now!"

Carrots could not remain concealed.

Money was actually being paid into his establishment by a customer who had come there of his own free will, and the junior partner of the firm of Thurston and Williams felt it impossible to stay away from the enchanting place any longer.

Running swiftly across the street he threw his many packages on the counter with the air of a proprietor, just in time to see Ikey pass the gentleman ten cents in change.

"What did he give you?" Carrots asked, excitedly.

"A quarter."

"What—a quarter?" the young merchant exclaimed in surprise. "Do you mean to tell me he bought fifteen cents' worth all at one time?"

"Course I do," Ikey replied, as if he was accustomed to making such large sales. "Why, I had one man who got twenty cents' worth, an' he asked me if the stand was goin' to be kept open right along now."

"Did you tell him who owned it?"

"Of course; an' he said he'd buy his papers here all the time."

"Well, I'm a Dutchman if I thought business was so big with a stand! I can't see what made the other feller give it up. How much money did you take in altogether?"

"Let's see," and Ikey knit his brow as he called upon his memory to aid him in the account. "There was two dollars 'n' forty-two cents, an' now I've got fifteen more; that makes—forty-two an' ten is fifty-two, an' five is fifty-seven—two dollars 'n' fifty-seven cents."

"Well, I'll be jiggered!" and Carrots found it necessary to enter the stand for the purpose of seeing and handling the money before he could be convinced his clerk had told him no more than the truth.

"Well, 'cordin' to the looks of things we've struck a reg'lar gold mine here; an' it won't be very long before I can git a chair that'll knock the Italian's all out er sight!"

"If my leg wasn't so lame I could make a good deal more; but you see I don't dare to jump on an' off the cars."

"Put those things under the counter, an' give me a pile of papers!" Carrots cried. "We'll soon know what this kind of trade is worth."

When Teddy returned from down-town, believing business to be finished for the day, Carrots was still actively engaged; and not until nearly eight o'clock did either of the partners think it prudent to cease work.

"That's what I call makin' things hum!" Carrots said as the two entered the stand, after "shutting up shop" by raising the shutter which served as a counter during the day. "I've sold sixteen papers since I come up to-night, an' might 'a' done a good deal more if the stock hadn't run out. How much do you s'pose we've made?"

"We'll soon know, after I go for a candle," Teddy replied.

"I bought three, so's we could have a reg'lar blowout for the first night," Carrots said, as he produced the articles in question. "You figure up, an' I'll get the grub together."

It was necessary Teddy should take an account of the stock on hand before the profits could be ascertained, and then, to the surprise of his partner and clerk, he announced that the amount which had been made in both branches of the business was three dollars and sixty-one cents.

"Now, if that ain't getting rich fast, I'd like to know what you'd call it!" Carrots exclaimed, as he ceased his labor of slicing a Bologna sausage, to verify his partner's figures. "If things keep on at this rate it won't be sich a dreadful while before we'll have to rent a reg'lar store."

"It's a good deal bigger'n I expected," Teddy admitted; "an' we mustn't count on doin' the same every day. Half as well will satisfy me."

"But we shall make twice as much if the hoss-cars an' stores are worked. Jest wait till I get a chair here, so's I can keep the trade hummin' when there isn't any shinin' to be done, an' you'll see how the money's bound to come tumblin' in. The feller what gave up this stand must 'a' been a chump!"

"I don't s'pose he 'tended to business," Teddy said, solemnly, as he placed the stock on a shelf, and prepared to join in the feast. "This place is goin' to be mighty snug to live in; but it isn't so handy as the yard, 'cause a feller's got to hunt 'round for water when he wants to wash his face."

"If trade keeps on like this I'll 'gree not to let a drop of water come near me for a year," Carrots exclaimed.

"An' the customers would keep away too, I reckon. But say, Carrots, isn't this goin' it rather strong for supper?" Teddy asked almost sternly, as he gazed at the newspaper spread on the floor of the stand, and heaped high with such delicacies as "bolivars," Bolognas, and pickled sheep's tongues.

"I reckon it is; but you see it's the first night, an' I counted on spreadin' myself some. There's three of us, you know, so it takes a lot of grub to go 'round."

"It won't do to keep this thing up," Teddy said, as he shook his head gravely.

"Course not; but to-night doesn't count. Now pitch right in, both of you, an' let's have a high old time."

Ikey had already begun to do his share, and, as the others joined him, the silence within the stand was broken only by Carrots's gasps, for he ate so eagerly that he hardly gave himself time to breathe properly.

The candle was standing in one corner, in a bottle, while under the counter was a pile of straw which Ikey had gathered to serve as beds; and these gave the place such an air of home as, according to Carrots's ideas, it would be hard to find elsewhere.

"I sha'n't go to the Hoffman House agin'," he said in a tone of content, as he gazed around complacently after it was absolutely impossible to eat any more. "This is about the swellest place in this city, an' the fellers'd be wild if they could see us. Mighty lucky for you, Ikey, that we got this stand jest as we did, for now you won't have to lay low while your leg's gettin' well."

"It's a dandy!" Ikey replied, enthusiastically, "an' I wouldn't ask anythin' better'n to stay here all the time."

"If trade keeps on as it's begun, I reckon we can 'ford to hire you right along, eh, Teddy?"

Before Master Thurston could reply, the clang and rattle of a fire-engine broke upon the stillness, and all three rushed out of the stand in the shortest possible time.

"It's down near where I used to live!" Carrots cried, as he saw the engine turning the corner. "Do you s'pose Skip has really dared to do what he threatened?"

"Ikey, you'll have to stay here 'cause you can't run," Teddy said, hurriedly. "Keep the door locked, an' Carrots and I'll come right back."

Then the partners started at full speed; and, although they had been warned that such might be the case, both were astonished almost beyond the power of speech, at finding that the blaze actually proceeded from the backyard where Carrots had spent so many nights.

"He's really gone an' done it!" Master Williams exclaimed in a tone of awe, and just at that moment Reddy Jackson stepped from among the network of hose, whence he had evidently been trying to peer into the yard.

"Why, how did you come here?" he cried in astonishment. "I thought there wasn't any other way but this, to get out from where you sleep."

"How did you know Carrots lived here?" Teddy asked, sternly.

"Why, some of the fellers told me, of course," Master Jackson replied, hesitatingly.

"They didn't; 'cause nobody knew except Teenie Massey, an' I'm sure he hasn't said anything," Carrots cried. "I've heard 'bout Skip's threatenin' to burn this place, an' it was Skip that started the fire."

"What're you yellin' so for?" Reddy cried, nervously. "Do you want everybody to hear?"

"I don't care if they do," said Carrots, sturdily.

"Skip'll be after you, if he knows you're sayin' sich things. He ain't through with you an' this country jay yet."

"No; nor he won't be till he gives up that dollar he stole," Teddy said, sternly. "If he isn't 'rested for settin' this place on fire, you tell him I'll be down front of City Hall by seven o'clock to-morrow mornin', so's he can begin the drivin'. Let him git all his friends there, an' show 'em the fun."

"Oh, yes, you'll be there, o' course!" Reddy replied with a sneer.

"Don't make any mistake 'bout it. I'm comin' down to give him his chance."

"Want ter git inter the station-house ag'in, eh? They must 'a' treated you mighty fine."

"Don't you worry about my bein' 'rested, an' if Skip Jellison cares to see me after what he's done to-night, let him be there," Teddy said, in a dignified tone, as he motioned for Carrots to follow him to the opposite side of the street, where they could be nearly alone.

"What kind of a row are you goin' to git inter now?" Carrots asked, his voice literally trembling with fear. "Of course Skip'll be in front of City Hall, 'cause there's where he always hangs out. You must keep clear of that place."

"I want him to see me when there's a big crowd 'round, an' I'm goin' to get some of that money he stole, between now an' to-morrow night," Teddy said, in such a positive tone that Carrots was plunged into bewilderment.