"Why, to clean my teeth, of course."
Carrots looked at his new friend in surprise which amounted almost to bewilderment.
"Well," Teddy asked, "what's the matter?"
"Well, seems as if you was puttin' on a good deal of style for a feller that hasn't got money enough to buy the outfit for the bootblack trade."
"I don't know as there's anything so queer 'bout that; but you fellers seem to think there's no call to keep yourselves lookin' clean."
"Well, you see, we don't claim to be swells."
"Yes, so I see," Teddy replied; then he added: "Say, these fellers seem to be sellin' a good many papers. S'pos'n' you show me where to buy some?"
"All right; come along;" and, slinging his box over his shoulder, Carrots started across Printing House Square, threading his way in and out of the vehicles in a manner which seemed to Teddy almost criminally reckless.
More than once, before the short journey was ended, did the boy from Saranac fancy he would be trampled under the feet of the horses; but, by dint of his own exertions, aided now and then by a vigorous pull from his guide, he was soon standing in an ill-ventilated room, where half a dozen fellows were clamouring for round flat pieces of brass.
"Here—I don't want those," Teddy said, as Carrots led the way to the desk where the disks were being sold.