"Take care they don't kick you, Carrots; they're great on showin' their heels," Teddy replied, warningly.
"I'd like to see the mule that could get away with me," Master Carrots said contemptuously; and just then the farmer came out of a neighbouring shop, looking around as if in search of some one or something.
"He's after you," Teddy said. "I reckon I'd better say good-by now. You'll find me in the packin'-case, if you come after dark."
"It'll be a good while before you see me," Carrots replied, confidently, as he shook his friend's hand warmly; and then the two parted.
During the three days following Carrots's departure, Teddy succeeded in the work beyond his most sanguine expectations.
He had been careful to remain away from the places most frequented by Skip Jellison, but was forced to change his business location several times, owing to the trouble which he had with boys who, as Carrots had predicted, were jealous because he both blacked boots and sold newspapers.
Still, he had succeeded in saving two dollars and twenty-five cents, in addition to which he had quite a store of provisions packed snugly away in a box, and, as he said in a tone of satisfaction on this third night after counting his funds and examining the contents of the larder, "had been playin' in mighty big luck."
During all this time he had seen nothing of Teenie Massey, who, now that Carrots was away, was the only boy he knew well.
Neither had he met any of the party whom he saw on his introduction to the city, and it seemed as if they might not give him any further trouble.
"I reckon I can pick up what money I need to start the stand, by keepin' on the same way I've begun," he said to himself. "It may be business is better 'round City Hall; but it doesn't stand to reason I could earn so very much more up there than I'm doin' now, an' shiftin' about so often I'll have a better chance for findin' out where a stand ought ter be put."