If Teddy believed that his new admirers would allow him to go on quietly with his business immediately after punishing Skip Jellison, he was mistaken.

The bully had terrorized the bootblacks and newsboys who pursued their callings in the vicinity of the City Hall, during the previous year, without having been called upon to defend himself against one of his own size and strength.

As a matter of course it had been necessary to engage in several fights for the purpose of sustaining his reputation as a "dangerous character;" but he had always been careful to attack some boy smaller than himself, or, as in the case of his first assault upon Teddy, had contented himself with striking two or three blows suddenly when the victim could be taken unawares.

Until the day when Teenie Massey brought the news from Brooklyn that Skip had been whipped by a boy not more than half his size, every fellow believed Master Jellison to be bold, and skilful in the use of his fists.

Even then, most of Skip's followers fancied Teenie had colored the story to suit his own purposes. They were willing to give the bully the benefit of the doubt, and consequently the surprise of all was very great that Teddy had vanquished him so easily.

Since Teddy's victory, however, the opinion of every street merchant in the vicinity of Skip's usual haunts was that he "could not fight a little bit," and no one was silent on the subject.

The newspaper business was much neglected that morning in order that the details of the battle might be told to those who were not present; and more than one gentleman with muddy boots wondered what had become of the small army of bootblacks who were usually so eager for work.

Teddy's praises were warmly sung; for even Skip's most intimate friends felt a certain sense of relief now that his reign was over.

"That feller has got plenty of sand!" Sid Barker said, admiringly, after he had repeated his story of the bully's downfall for at least the twentieth time; "an' I think we ought to tell him just how we look at this thing."

"Do you s'pose he'll get his money back?" Teenie asked, in his shrill voice.

"Not a bit of it! Skip never'll show up 'round here again; an' if he did, how'll he raise the cash?"

"He says you an' Reddy got a share."

"I won't say that we didn't," Sid replied, promptly; "an' I'm goin' to give Teddy back my part before noon."

"So am I," Reddy added. "I've got it now, an' am willin' to hunt him up this minute, if you say the word."

"Come on," Sid replied, as he started in the direction of South Ferry, for it was well known by all that Teddy was doing business in that part of the city.

As a matter of course every fellow who heard this offer was eager to be present when the payment was made to Teddy, and the crowd of newsboys who marched down Broadway was so large as to attract considerable attention.

When the small army arrived at the head of Cortlandt Street, Carrots met them; and, it is needless to say, he halted in astonishment and some alarm.

His first thought was that Skip's friends had come together for the purpose of taking revenge upon the boy who had chastised the bully, and he remained motionless an instant, wondering whether it would not be the better part of valour to seek safety in flight.

A hail from Sid soon dispelled his fears.

"Come on, Carrots! We're goin' down to find your pardner, so's to kinder square things. You'd better come, too."

"What do you mean to do?" Carrots asked, as he joined the throng.

"They're goin' to give him back part of the money Skip stole," Teenie squeaked; "an' then I reckon he'll work up round the City Hall."

A few moments previous to this meeting it had seemed to Carrots as if he desired nothing more, because he was part-owner of a stand, and Skip's tyrannical reign had come to an end; but now, if such a thing could be possible, he was even more elated than before, and all idea of business was forgotten as he followed those who, but a short time previous, were his enemies.

It was a regular triumphal march for the amateur farmer, and the promises of friendship from every side gave him much pleasure.

"I knew you fellers would like Teddy when you got acquainted with him," he said, gleefully.

"It wouldn't have taken us long to find that out if he'd started in different," Reddy Jackson replied. "Why didn't he pitch right inter Skip the first thing?"

"How could he when he got in the station-house?" said Carrots. "He wouldn't 'a' let Skip get away, then, if that policeman hadn't been there."

"But after he got out there wasn't anything done," Sid objected.

"You couldn't expect him to jump into trouble again right away. He had to wait so's to fix things, an' then he came out like a little man."

"That's a fact; an' now he can go into any part of this town that he likes."

Carrots was strongly tempted to add to the glory of the march by telling the story of the stand; but he remembered that as yet his word was pledged to his partner, and remained silent.

When the party reached South Ferry, Teddy was found hard at work; and, like Carrots, he was at first inclined to believe the advancing force boded evil for him. But Sid Barker said, as he handed Teddy twenty-five cents:

"What Skip Jellison told 'bout our havin' some of your money was straight; an' so we've come here to give it up. Here's all I got, an' if I'd know'd what you really were, the money wouldn't 'a' been kept so long as this."

"An' here's my share," Reddy added, as he slipped another coin into Teddy's hand.

"But it was Skip who stole the money," the boy from Saranac said, with some confusion; "an' he ought to give it back."

"I reckon you won't see him very soon," said Reddy. "Skip hasn't got the nerve to show his face round here ag'in, for he knows nearly every feller has something against him. We used the money he gave us, so it's no more'n right we should give it back."

"An' you'd better work round City Hall," Reddy added. "You're a dandy, an' if there's anything we can do to help you along, just say the word!"

Teddy protested that business was good enough near the ferries to warrant his remaining where he was; but his new friends would listen to nothing of the kind.

They insisted so strongly on Teddy's going with them, that he was finally forced to yield, and not until the party was marching up Broadway did Carrots get a chance to speak privately with his partner. Then he whispered:

"Why not tell them about the stand? They're all glad 'cause you thumped Skip, an' we needn't be 'fraid any more that they'll try to make trouble for us."

"I'd rather have waited till we had a bigger stock, an' you'd paid for the chair," said Teddy; "but I s'pose the best way is to give the news out now, 'cause they're bound to see the place before long. You can tell 'em."

Carrots felt very proud when he announced the fact that he and Teddy "had gone inter business reg'lar;" and he concluded by inviting every member of the party up to see the stand that evening.

The one incident of this triumph which did not please Teddy, was the fact that he was forced to waste so much time, when he might have been adding to his capital; but there did not seem any way to prevent it, and he submitted with the best grace he could.

As a matter of course, every member of the party promised to visit the partners' establishment before nightfall, and after the news had been thoroughly discussed several times more, most of the young merchants went about their business.

Teddy never worked harder than during the remainder of that day, and no one can blame him for being secretly proud of the victory he had won.

To describe the informal reception held by Messrs. Thurston and Williams on this evening would be too great a task.

From five o'clock in the afternoon until late at night the stand was the centre of attraction for all Teddy's, Carrots's, or Skip's acquaintances; and Master Williams fairly outdid himself as host.

He explained what they meant to do; showed the new chair which they had bought; described how the establishment would look when the new coat of green paint was put on, and received more offers of assistance in this artistic work than he could well accept.

The partners were thoroughly tired when the last guest took his departure, and Teddy said in a tone of satisfaction as he curled himself up on his portion of the straw:

"Well, Carrots, I reckon we're here to stay this time!"

"Yes, sir! I reckon we are; an' now I'm beginnin' to think it won't be such a dreadful long while before we get a store. Say, that'll be great, won't it? I can have my chair inside when it storms; an' what a place we'll rig up to sleep in! I'll know what a bed feels like then, an' it won't be all ropes, same's that one out to the farm."

Teddy was too nearly asleep to be capable of making any reply, and Ikey had been snoring several moments. Therefore Master Williams, giving up his attempt at conversation, laid his red head on his arm, and joined his companions in their journey to the Land of Nod.

It seems hardly necessary to say that Skip has not been seen since his friends forsook him in the stable where his reign as a bully came to an end; and even those to whom he owes money have felt no regret because of his long absence.

It is quite likely some of the fellows whom he bullied would like a short interview for the purpose of "squaring accounts"; but since Master Jellison is well aware of this fact, he will probably remain in seclusion.

It is a matter of fact that every satisfactory story ends only when the principal characters are settled in life, rich and happy; but, unfortunately, that cannot be in this case, for it is not many months since the day on which Skip was conquered, and in so short a time one could hardly expect the young merchants to have made very rapid strides toward wealth.

There is a great difference in the appearance of the stand, however. It has had at least two coats of the most vivid green paint Carrots could purchase; and at one end stands the chair—all paid for—with so much brass-work about it as to render it quite dazzling on a sunny day.

Carrots feels very positive it "lays 'way over the Italian's," and in this he is correct.

Ikey still holds his position as clerk, although his lame leg is healed, and he can run about the streets as nimbly as either of his employers.

Teddy and Carrots decided several weeks ago that it would pay them to hire a clerk regularly, since both could then go around town in search of customers when trade was dull nearer to the stand; and Ikey receives as wages his board, his lodging, and fifty cents each week, a great improvement over his former state, when he was forced to seek such locations for business as the other boys did not want.

Carrots still dreams of the "reg'lar store," and there appears to be no reason why his hopes may not be fulfilled.

The amount of capital is larger each day, thanks to the partners' industry, and their stock is increasing, too; therefore they will be able to make quite a respectable showing when they move into more roomy quarters.

Few firms seem likely to be more prosperous than that of "TEDDY AND CARROTS."