The Newsboy Partners; Or, Who Was Dick Box? Part 9

Have a cigarette? I bought a new pack. Blowed meself on account of me good luck."

"No, I don't smoke. I shouldn't think you would."

"Why not? All de fellers does. It's sporty. Say, here's yer dollar back."

"Don't you need it?"

"Naw. I got plenty now. I'll make more t'-morrow."

"Then keep it to pay for what you have done for me."

"Not much! What d' youse t'ink I am? I'm a friend of yourn, an' I'm takin' care of ye; see?

"Yes, but it costs money."

"Well, when I ain't got none I'll borrow some from youse. Now it's time fer yer medicine."

d.i.c.k took it, and soon afterward fell into a heavy doze. Jimmy went out, got some supper, and, returning, stretched out on the floor and was soon asleep.

d.i.c.k did not awaken until morning, and, when he saw the lad on the floor, he gave such an exclamation of surprise that Jimmy awoke.

"What's de matter?" he asked. "Feel worse?"

"No. But the idea of you sleeping on the floor, and me taking up the whole bed! It isn't right. Why didn't you wake me up and make me shove over?"

"Aw, I like sleepin' on de floor. It's like bein' in a hotel, after a night in me box. I'm all right. Feel hungry?"

"A little. I am much better than I was."

"T'ink of yer name yet?"

"No," and d.i.c.k shook his head, smiling a little sadly. "I can't seem to remember anything," he went on. "Perhaps, when this lump on my head goes down more, I can do better."

"Well, never mind," answered Jimmy cheerfully. "Youse kin have all de time youse wants."

"I wish I could get up, and help you," proposed d.i.c.k. "I think I am well enough."

"No, ye don't!" exclaimed Jimmy. "If youse gits up now youse'll have a perhaps, an' den where'll ye be?"

"A 'perhaps'?" repeated d.i.c.k, with a puzzled air.

"Yep. What sick folks gits when dey gits up too quick."

"Oh, you mean a relapse."

"Yep. Dat's it. It's de same t'ing. Now de t'ing fer youse t' do is t' lay quiet. I kin make enough money fer both of us, fer a while yet."

"But I want to help."

"Well, maybe when youse gits well I'll take ye in partnership,"

proposed Jimmy, with an air as if he was a millionaire.

"Will you, really?"

"Mebby. Now don't git all excited. I'll go out an' bring in some breakfust. What'll ye have?"

"I don't feel very hungry. If I could have an orange, and a cup of coffee, I think it would be enough."

"Crimps! Dat's a light meal," said Jimmy. "I'd starve on dat. Beans is de stuff. Dey're terrible fillin'. Most generally I eats beans.

Dey's cheap, too."

"I don't think I care for any this morning."

"All right; I'll tell me cook t' prepare youse somethin' light," and Jimmy, with a bright smile at his joke, left the room, having made a hasty toilet, washing at the basin in the room.

He soon returned with an orange cut up, some toast, and a cup of coffee, which he had bought in a near-by restaurant, where he had his own meal. d.i.c.k said the things tasted good, and he certainly looked better after the meal.

"Will youse be all right if I goes out t' business?" asked Jimmy, when d.i.c.k had finished. "Me private secretary is sick t'-day," he added, "an' I've got t' work meself."

"Don't worry about me," answered d.i.c.k. "I can get along well enough.

I am feeling better all the while."

"All right," announced Jimmy. "I'll see ye dis noon."

Once more the plucky little newsboy started out. Business was not so good that day, and he only made a dollar and fifteen cents, but that was enough, considering that he had no room rent to pay for the present, and meals, such as he ate, were cheap.

"I wish I'd meet dat feller--let's see--what was his name?" he mused.

"Crabtree?--no, dat wasn't it--Cross-patch?--no, dat ain't it needer--Crabapple?--no--Crosscrab?--dat's it. I wish I'd see him.

Maybe he'd want some more information, an' he'd pay fer it."

But, though he kept a lookout for the young countryman, Jimmy did not see him as he stood on his favorite corner selling his papers.

He stopped work about six o'clock and went to the lodging-house. He found d.i.c.k able to be up and around the room, but a trifle weak on his legs. "I think I'll be able to go out to-morrow," replied the boy, in response to a question from Jimmy as to how he felt.

"Dat's good. De fresh air'll make youse feel better."

Jimmy was puzzled about what to do. He knew d.i.c.k must have come from some well-to-do home, and he suspected that he had either been kidnapped or, perhaps, had wandered away and been hurt, thus forgetting where he lived.

"I s'pose I ought t' tell a cop," thought Jimmy to himself that night after d.i.c.k was asleep. "Maybe dere's an alarm been sent out fer him an' his folks is lookin' fer him. Dat's what I'll do. I'll tell a cop."

d.i.c.k was not quite so strong the next morning as he thought he would be, but, aside from a little uncertain feeling on his legs, he was all right. That is, not considering his memory, which was as much a blank as when he had awakened to find himself in the box.

"Wait till this afternoon, an' I'll go out wid youse," proposed Jimmy.

"I'm too busy t' look after ye dis mornin'."

The truth was he did not want d.i.c.k to go out and perhaps get lost again before there was a chance to notify the police, which Jimmy had decided to do. If he could keep d.i.c.k in that morning, he would find a certain policeman, with whom he had a slight acquaintance, and tell him the facts.

With this in mind Jimmy set out from the lodging-house, having made d.i.c.k promise not to go away or try to walk in the streets until after dinner.