"Who's he? Ever seen him afore?" asked Tim Banks of a newsboy at his side.
"No; he's a new chap."
"What business has he got to come here and steal away our trade, I'd like to know?" continued Tim, eying Ben with no friendly glance.
At that moment a gentleman, passing Tim, bought an "Evening Post" of Ben. It was the third paper that Ben had sold since Tim had effected a sale. This naturally increased his indignation.
"He's puttin' on airs just because he's got good clo'es," said the other newsboy, who shared Tim's feelings on the subject.
"Let's shove him out," suggested Tim.
"All right."
Tim, who was a boy of twelve, with a shock head, which looked as if it had never been combed, and a suit of clothes which bore the marks of severe usage, advanced to Ben, closely followed by his confederate, who had agreed to back him.
Ben had just sold his last paper when the two approached him. He did not understand their object until Tim, swaggering up to him, said offensively, "You'd better clear out; you aint wanted here."
Ben turned and faced his ragged opponent with intrepidity.