Dickey had not noticed them when they first came up, and it was not until Ben touched him on the shoulder that he appeared to hear what they said.
“What’s the matter with yer?” asked Ben, anxiously. “You look as if somebody’d stole yer an’ carried yer off. What’s up now?”
“Busted,” replied Dickey, mournfully, and then he began surveying the gutter again.
“Busted!” echoed the two boys in the same breath; and Ben asked, eagerly,
“You don’t mean to say that you’ve gone up—failed?”
“That’s jest it. I trusted out as much as thirty cents, an’ then I got Tim Dooley to ’tend the stand for me this forenoon, an’ when I come back I couldn’t find anything but the stand, an’ that, you know, I hired. All ther nuts an’ Tim had gone off.”
The boys were so thoroughly overwhelmed by the news of this misfortune that it was some time before Ben could ask,
“But can’t you find out where Tim is?”
Dickey shook his head.
“I’ve been lookin’ everywhere, an’ I can’t hear nothin’ ’bout him, an’ I can’t make any of ther fellers pay me what they owe me, so I’m all cleaned out.”