“You did? Think of that! One whole paper! Say, you folks take a lot of risks, don’t you? Just suppose you hadn’t sold it!” The irate gentleman left the store abruptly and Joe followed his departing figure with thoughtful eyes. A moment later Jack completed his purchase and they left the shop. It was well after five and, although it was the custom for Joe to walk home with Jack, this afternoon he pleaded duties and, promising to go around after supper, watched his friend lose himself in the throng. What Joe did next would have occasioned Jack some curiosity had he been there to see. Joe crossed the street—the other side of the thoroughfare was less congested at this time—and went slowly northward for six blocks, his eyes busy all the way. Then he crossed again and returned on the first side. His travels took him over the busiest portion of the street and left him finally four blocks below the Adams Building. But what he was looking for he hadn’t seen, and he shook his head as he turned his steps northward again. In front of the Adams Building a small newsboy was selling the evening paper and Joe stopped.
“Got a Cleveland paper?” he asked.
The boy shook his head. “I don’t carry ’em,” he said.
“Columbus?”
“Ain’t got nothin’ but the Recorder.”
“That all you ever carry?”
“Yep.”
“Do you know where I can buy a Cleveland or a Columbus paper?”
“You might get ’em at Pryor’s, three blocks up.”