The fireman were able to put out the fire before it had done serious damage, save to the packing-cases; and Teddy had hardly sent the challenge to Skip Jellison before, one by one, the engines were hauled away.

Reddy did not follow when they crossed to the other side of the street. He was probably afraid he might be charged with having taken some part in starting the blaze, and did not care to remain near those who had no hesitation about saying what they thought.

"We might as well go back," Teddy said, several moments after the firemen began to disperse. "We'll go round by Broadway for fear some of the fellers will find out where we're livin' now."

Then, for the first time since receiving Teddy's promise that Skip should be forced to return the money he had stolen, was it possible for Carrots to speak freely.

"If you haven't got yourself in a fine mess, then I don't know!" he exclaimed. "Jest as likely as not this'll break up the stand!"

"Don't you worry 'bout that, Carrots. I shall come out all right. It's got to be fixed right away, else there's no knowin' what Skip Jellison may do. I didn't count on beginning so soon; but now he's shown that he dares to set fires, I'd be worried for our new place, if something wasn't done."

"But what do you reckon on doin'?"

"You come with me, and you'll hear and see the whole thing. It's going to spoil our day's work; but that can't be helped, for it's time he was straightened out. We'll get the papers for Ikey, an' then have a look at this bully who's willing to risk burning us up."

Teddy evidently had a well-defined scheme in his mind; but he did not intend to confide in any one until the proper moment.

By going a long way round the boys were able to reach their new home without meeting any acquaintances; and, once there, preparations were made for the night, Carrots meanwhile explaining to Ikey what they had seen and heard.

"That Skip will try to break up this stand just as soon as he knows you've got it," the clerk said, positively.

Carrots expected Teddy would make some reply to this remark; but the boy from Saranac did not speak, and before long his companions were asleep.

It was daylight next morning when Teddy woke his partner, and, leaving their clerk still asleep, the two hurried to the newspaper offices for the day's supply.

Few other newsboys had begun work when Messrs. Thurston and Williams had the stand open, with a stock sufficient to satisfy all the customers Ikey might have.

A breakfast was made on the remainder of the previous night's feast, and then Teddy and Carrots "worked the hoss-cars," as the latter expressed it, until a quarter before seven.

"Come on; it's time to go," Teddy said, as he deposited his share of the stock on the counter. "Keep your eyes open while we're gone, Ikey, because it may be quite a while before we get back."

Carrots followed his partner in silence, and the clocks were striking seven when they arrived at the City Hall.

"Don't go over there yet," Carrots said, nervously, as he pointed toward a group of boys. "Skip has got every feller in town with him. You're certain to get the worst of it."

"He can't have too many to please me," Teddy replied, boldly; and then, to Carrots's surprise, he turned and walked directly toward the enemy.

"Here he comes! an' now we'll see what a country jay looks like when he gits ready to leave town!" was Skip's greeting; and his particular cronies thought the remark so very funny that they laughed long and loud.

"I'm not thinking about going out of the city," Teddy said, firmly; "so I'm afraid it won't be such an awful good show."

"Then what are you coming round here for?" Skip asked, as he advanced threateningly.

"In the first place I've come for that money you stole from Carrots, and when that has been given up, I'll tell you what else I want," said Teddy, quietly.

"You'll be gray-headed before you get anything out of me, 'cept a whack on the head!"

"Yes, you're said to be a great fighter, I know," was Teddy's remark; "but you'd better make all your fight 'round here where you know the police will stop a row before anybody has a chance to hurt you. It's safer!"

"I'll make my fight anywhere I please," Skip blustered.

"Then if you've got half the pluck you claim, show us a place where it can be done in shape," answered Teddy, sharply. "I'm here with nothing to do but settle matters. I'm going to stay in the town right along, and I can't be bothered with you all the time. If you get the best of me when we're where nobody'll interfere with us, I'll leave; an' if I get the best of you, why, then I'll get back my dollar, an' you'll have to behave yourself."

Boys like pluck, and even Skip's friends applauded this remark. Teddy's business-like offer pleased them wonderfully, and they had no doubt the bully would agree at once. But, to the surprise of all, Skip remained silent.

"He don't dare do it!" Teenie jeered. "He's afraid of gettin' the worst of it—same's he did that day over in Brooklyn!"

"Hold your tongue!" Master Jellison answered, looking angrily around him. "Do you fellers s'pose that I'm scared of him?"

"If you ain't, why don't you do as he says?" asked Teenie.

"I've got to 'tend to my work," Skip stammered, "that's why I can't; but I'll give him a poundin' now, an' let that settle it."

"If you try to touch me here where we're sure of being arrested, I'll have you locked up for stealin'," Teddy said, sternly. "I could do that, anyway; but I'd rather manage my own affairs. I don't see how you can be too busy to leave for an hour, because you haven't done any work since you said you'd drive me out of town. I'll go wherever you say, an' the rest of the fellers shall promise to leave us alone till one of us says he's had enough!"

"Of course he's goin' to tackle the countryman!" Reddy Jackson said in reply to some of his friends, who at this moment began to express in an undertone their belief that "Skip was scared!"

Then Reddy took Skip aside and began to talk to him very earnestly, the others, meanwhile, discussing whether the bully was afraid.

It must have been plain to Skip that, if he did not wish to be despised by all whom he had cowed so long, it was necessary to accept Teddy's challenge; for there were at least a dozen in the throng who had some grudge against the young tyrant, and if he "showed the white feather" so publicly, there could be no question that the injured ones would try to revenge themselves, believing it could be done safely.

"I'm willin' to go an' thrash this feller, of course," Skip said, suddenly, as he stepped forward once more. "I did count on doin' a good day's work, 'cause I've been takin' it easy so long; but I reckon I can spare the little time I need to settle him off. See here, now—I don't want any one in the crowd to beg off for him after I get started."

"Neither do I," added Teddy, promptly. "He says I can't stay in the town, an' I want that settled once for all; so the rest of the crowd are to hold back, never mind who's havin' the worst of the trade."

"You can count on fair play," a member of the party said, decidedly, and, as this speaker had always been believed to be one of Skip's warmest supporters, there seemed to be no question that Teddy would be treated well during the coming conflict.

"Do you s'pose you can get the best of him?" Carrots asked, in an anxious whisper, as, under the guidance of one of the party, all hands started toward a certain quiet and secluded spot, which had been suggested by Sid Barker.

"Well, I'll try mighty hard," said Teddy. "I don't take much stock in fightin', Carrots, but this is somethin' that's got to be done, or we'd never be able to run the stand."

This remark sounded to Carrots very much as if his partner had serious doubts regarding the outcome of the engagement, and, secretly, the junior partner began to indulge in the most gloomy forebodings.

Teddy had very little to say, but Skip, who walked among the leaders of the party, took pains to boast, in a very loud tone, of what he proposed to do with "the greenhorn after he'd broken him all up."

Sid conducted the throng to an untenanted stable in the rear of some dwellings on West Broadway, and said, as he led them through a convenient opening:

"I reckon you might fight here a month without anybody hearing you. Could you find anything better'n this?"

Most of the boys were loud in their praises of the spot; but it really seemed as if Skip fancied it too retired.

"He'd rather be where the cops would come," Carrots whispered to Teddy. "I do believe he's afraid already; an' I tell you, Teddy, if you can thrash Skip well, it'll be the biggest kind of a thing for a lot of fellers I know of in this town!"

"I reckon I'll be all right. Don't you even say a word, no matter what happens, and I think when our little scrap is finished, he won't have anything more to say about our leaving the city."

It did not require many moments to settle the terms of combat.

Half a dozen of the larger members of the party arranged the details by promising to whip any fellow who should attempt to interfere, and then the word was given.

Teddy did not immediately put himself in an attitude of defence, but, addressing the spectators, said:

"I don't want any feller to think I came here 'cause I'm fond of fight. Skip Jellison has said I've got to leave town, and that Carrots must, too, just because he helped me. He tried to drive me away by stealing a dollar of my money from Carrots, and then he set the box pile on fire last night to smoke us out, or something worse. All I want of him is to give up the cash, and agree to let us alone. If he's willing to do that, there's no need of this row; but if he don't, I shall fight him the best I know how."

Skip's only reply was to rush forward angrily, and an instant later the battle was on.

It is very doubtful if even Carrots could have told much about the struggle, so suddenly was it begun and so soon ended.

Carrots told Ikey that same morning:

"It didn't seem as if Skip had a chance to put up his hands, before he was flat on his back; and every time he tried to stand up, he got another dose of the same medicine, till it was over."

In less than five minutes, Teddy was the conqueror, without a scratch, and Skip, lying at full length on the stable floor, was howling frantically for some one to "hold that Saranac jay."

"He hasn't thumped you half enough!" Sid Barker said, angrily, to the prostrate bully. "What are you yellin' like that for? Teddy ain't anywhere near you! To think that we fellers have let you pretty nigh run this town for as much as a year, when you wouldn't fight a mouse, unless you got the first clip at him!"

After a time, Skip was made to understand that Teddy had no idea of administering more punishment, and he was about to scramble to his feet, when the boy from Saranac stopped him by saying:

"Part of what I came here for was the dollar you stole, and as soon as you give that up the row will be over; but you don't leave this place till I get it."

"I haven't kept a cent! Reddy an' Sid got the same as I did!" Skip cried, cringing now as shamefully as he had ever bullied.

"All I know is that you took it, an' you've got to give it up," Teddy remarked, decidedly.

"I'll let you have some to-morrow," Skip replied, with a whine.

"We've come here to settle matters," Teddy insisted, an' this is the place to square up. I can't afford to lose another morning's work on account of you."

Skip finally found eighteen cents, and then tried to borrow the rest from those whom he had counted as friends; but not one of his late admirers would have anything to do with him. He had shown himself to be a coward as well as a bully, and now his bitterest enemies were those with whom he had seemed most popular. Teddy soon understood that Skip had told the truth, and that he could not regain the whole amount stolen. So he said, as he took the eighteen cents on account:

"This will do for now; but you've got to come up with the balance by to-morrow night, or there'll be trouble. While you were talking so loud about pounding me, it would have looked as if I was scared an' didn't dare to do anything but go to the police, if I'd had you arrested. But now that every feller knows how much your brag amounts to, I'll have you right into court if the money isn't paid at the time I said. While I'm in court, it wouldn't be very queer if I should have somethin' to say 'bout the fire we saw last night."

"I'll pay back every cent just as soon as I can get it," Skip wailed.

"You'll have till to-morrow night," said Teddy, firmly, "but no longer. I don't think there's any need to tell you what'll be done if you try to bother Carrots or me again."

Then, although many of Skip's friends were eager to cultivate his acquaintance, Teddy left the barn in the same quiet way he had entered; and Carrots followed close behind, saying, when they were where the words could not be overheard:

"Well, Teddy, who'd 'a' thought you was such a fighter?"

"But I'm not!" Teddy replied, sharply. "I don't believe in that sort of thing; but the way matters were going I thought it was somethin' that had to be done."

"And you did it in great shape!" Carrots insisted. "Even if we never get another cent of our dollar back I'll be satisfied, 'cause that bully Skip's done for in this town now. He can't scare any more fellers, an' I reckon all Teenie Massey said about that Brooklyn fight was true."

"Don't let's talk of it, Carrots. I'm goin' to work, an' you'd better do the same, 'cause we've got a mighty big contract on our hands now, with so much rent to pay, an' a clerk to feed."

Carrots would have liked nothing better than to have remained there discussing all the incidents of the short battle during the next hour or two; but Teddy put an end to the talk by hurrying away for a stock of papers, and the bootblack could do no less than go in search of customers.

He had every chance to talk about Teddy's prowess during the remainder of that day, however.

Every boy who knew Skip had something to say about the fallen bully; and, naturally, such remarks were followed by praise for Teddy, who had settled his troubles in such a business-like fashion.

Teenie Massey was so excited because of Skip's downfall that it was almost impossible for him to attend to any business during the next twenty-four hours. He told the story over and over again to such of his friends as were so unlucky as not to have witnessed the great combat.

None of Carrots's friends saw Skip during the remainder of that day; he disappeared from view as completely as if the earth had opened and swallowed him, and there was no sorrow because of his absence.