"Humph! well, well well! the trace is lost! What shall I do?—put advertisements in all the daily papers—apply at the chief police office? Yes, I'll do both," muttered Old Hurricane to himself; then, speaking out, he called:
"Boy!"
"Yes, sir?"
"Call me a cab!"
"Yes, sir!" And the lad was off like an arrow to do his bidding.
In a few moments the cab drove up. The newsboy, who was sitting beside the driver, jumped down and said:
"Here it is, sir!"
"Thank you, my son; here is your fee," said Old Hurricane, putting a silver dollar into the lad's hand.
"What! Lor', it can't be I but it is! He must have made a mistake! What if he did, I don't care! Yes, I do, too! 'Honor bright!'" exclaimed the newsboy, looking in wonder and desire and sore temptation upon the largest piece of money he had ever touched in his life. "Governor!"
"Well, boy?" said the old gentleman, with his feet upon the steps of the cab.