Glory’s argument but half-convinced herself and only strengthened Nick’s opinion. However, his own mind was troubled. He felt very guilty for having guided Miss Bonnicastle to the littlest house, and the quarter-dollar earned by that treacherous deed seemed to burn through his pocket into his very flesh. Besides that coin, he had others in store, having had a successful morning, and the feeling of his affluence added to another feeling slowly awakening within him. This struggling emotion may have been generosity and it may have been remorse. Whatever it was, it prompted him to say, “Look-a-here, Glory, I’ll help ye. I’ve got to go get somethin’ t’eat, first off. Then, listen, you hain’t got no money, have ye?”
“What o’ that? I’ve got eyes, an’ I’ve got Bo’sn. I’m goin’ to the ferry an’ I’m goin’ tell the ferry man just how ’tis. That I must–I must be let go over to that Staten Island on that boat, whether or no. Me an’ a dog won’t take up much room, an’, if he won’t let me, I’ll wait round till I get some sort o’ job an’ earn the money to pay. You needn’t think, Nick Parson, that a teeny thing like a few centses will keep me from grandpa. I’d go to Toni an’ ask him only–only–I don’t know a thing what come o’ that fifty-five cents the lady paid for the goobers, an’ so I s’pose he’d be mad an’ wouldn’t trust me. Besides, grandpa always said to ‘Pay as you go,’ an’ now I seem–I seem–to want to do what he told more’n ever. O Nick Dodd! What if–what if–he shouldn’t never–never come–no–more!”
Poor Glory’s courage gave way at last and, without ado, she flung herself upon Nick as she had done upon Bo’sn and clung to him as chokingly.
“Now, this is a purty fix, now ain’t it?” thought the victim of her embrace, casting a wary eye up and down the Lane, lest any mate should see and gibe at him, and call him a “softy.” Besides, for Glory to become sentimental–if this was sentiment–was as novel as for him to be generous. So, to relieve the situation, the newsboy put these two new things together and wrenched himself free, saying, “Quit it, Glory Beck! I got to breathe same’s another, ain’t I? You look a-here. See that cash? Well, I’ll tell ye, I’ll go fetch my grub—Had any yerself, Glory Beck?”
The question was spoken like an accusation and Glory resented it, answering quickly, “I don’t know as that’s anythin’ to you, Nick Parson!”
“’Course. But I’ll fetch enough fer two an’ I’ll tell ye, I’ll go to that ‘Snug Harbor’ my own self, a payin’ my own way, I will. I can afford it an’ you can’t. If so be the cap’n ’s there, I’ll fetch him out lickety-cut. If he ain’t, why then, ’twas him was killed. See?”
“No, I don’t see. Maybe they wouldn’t let a boy in, anyhow.”
“Pooh! They’re sure to. Ain’t I on the papers? Don’t newsboys go anywhere they want, same’s other press folks? Hey?”
Glory admitted that they did. She had often seen them jumping on and off of street cars at the risk of their lives and without hindrance from the officials. Also, the lad’s offer to share his breakfast with her was too tempting to be declined. As he hurried away toward his poor home, she sat down on the threshold of the warehouse before which they had talked to wait, calling after him, “Don’t forget a bite for Bo’sn, Nick!”
“All right!” he returned, and disappeared within his own cellar doorway.