“But it is one of the few things open to me. I can become a newsboy without recommendations. Even your business would be closed to me if it were known that I was suspected of theft.”
“Thats so,” said Mike, scratching his head in perplexity.
“Then would you recommend my becoming a newsboy?”
“I don’t know. You couldn’t make more’n fifty or sixty cent a day.”
“That will be better than nothing.”
“And I can pay the rent, or most of it, as I’ll be doin’ better than you.”
“We will wait and see how much I make.”
So Rodney swallowed his pride, and procuring a supply of afternoon papers set about selling them. He knew that it was an honest business, and there was no disgrace in following it.
But one day he was subjected to keen mortification. Jasper Redwood and a friend—it was Philip Carton, his confederate—were walking along Broadway, and their glances fell on Rodney.
“I say, Jasper,” said the elder of the two, “isn’t that the boy who was in the same store with you?”