The boy gazed critically at those who were surrounding him, and then replied:
"Well, 'cordin' to the looks of the whole crowd, I should think you might be s'prised to see a fellow wash his face an' comb his hair."
"Now, don't get too fresh," Sid said, threateningly, as he stepped forward to Skip's side. "We didn't come here to git the 'pinion of any country jay."
"Then why did you want er know?"
"'Cause. Say, you'd better mind your eye, young feller, if you count on stayin' 'round this city very long. There was a chap jest like you come down here last week tryin' to put on airs: an' his folks are huntin' for him now."
"Well, you needn't be worried anybody'll be lookin' for me, 'cause there's nobody wants to know where I am. So go ahead, if I've been doin' anything you perfessors don't like."
Sid apparently decided that it was hardly advisable for him to make too many threatening gestures, because the stranger was not at all disturbed by them, and even seemed disposed to court the possibly dreadful encounter.
He finished brushing his clothes, and then packed his "valise," by rolling the different articles carefully in the newspaper. Then, instead of going away, as Skip and his friends seemed to think he should have done as soon as they arrived, he stood with his hands on his hips, as if waiting for them to take their departure. For a minute no one spoke, and the silence was really painful.
The newsboys were mentally taking the measure of this stranger who appeared ready to defy them; and the latter finally asked, impatiently: Well, what're you fellers countin' on doin'? I reckon I'm no great sight for you to stand lookin' at.
"Do you live here?" Skip asked.