"You see now we've got Ikey on hand we'll have to be careful of the money; else we sha'n't get that stand very soon."
"We're bound to eat, Carrots. If you want to be so awful careful of your money, you might give up smokin' cigarettes," Teddy replied.
"Oh, I swore off buyin' any, yesterday. I don't smoke now 'less some feller gives me one. Of course, you can't reckon I'd refuse it; but this soup will be ten cents gone, an' we'd be jest as hungry by noon. Besides, we've got to buy somethin' for supper, 'cause we're feedin' three now, you know."
"We'll get the breakfast, an' work enough harder to pay for it," Teddy replied, as he led the way into the restaurant; and again did Carrots's new ideas of economy appear, as he swallowed the soup almost at the risk of choking himself, in order to save a few moments.
He was the first boy on the street prepared to black boots that morning, and no fellow ever worked more industriously, until nearly twelve o'clock, when he approached his partner in a mysterious manner, beckoning him to follow where they could converse without fear of being overheard.
"Say, did you know lamb was awful good for sick people?" Carrots asked, with an air of great importance.
"No; I didn't know that. Who told you?"
"When old Miss Carter was sick, she said a little bit of lamb would do her a power of good, an' the boys chipped in an' bought some."
"But it'll come pretty high now, Carrots. You see it's kinder out of season."
"Pretty high, eh? Well, what would you say if I got a bang-up good mess of lamb for five cents?"