"Don't owe me a cent," said Nelson, and Gertrude and Gladys said the same.
Business with the firm was steadily increasing. The boy who had carried the paper route had left, and Paul Randall was now filling the place and doing his best to bring in new trade.
"We'll soon be on our way to opening a regular store," said George Van Pelt, one day. "We really need the room already."
"Let us go slow," said Nelson. "I know a fellow who had a stand near the Fulton ferry. He swelled up and got a big store at fifty dollars a month, and then he busted up in less than half a year. I want to be sure of what I am doing." And Van Pelt agreed with him that that was best.
Of course some newsboys were jealous of our hero's success, and among these were Billy Darnley and Len Snocks. Both came up to the stand while Nelson was in sole charge one afternoon, and began to chaff him.
"T'ink yer big, don't yer?" said Darnley. "I could have a stand like dis, if I wanted it."
"Perhaps you could, if you could steal the money to buy it," replied our hero suggestively.
"Dis aint no good spot fer business," put in Len Snocks. "Why didn't yer git furder downtown?"
"This is good enough for me," said our hero calmly. "If you don't like the stand, you don't have to patronize me."
"Yer don't catch me buyin' nuthin here," burst out Snocks. "We know better where to spend our money; don't we, Billy?"