“I’ve seen you before.”
“Oh, have you?” said Dick, whirling round; “then p’r’aps you’d like to see me behind.”
At this unexpected answer all the boys burst into a laugh with the exception of the questioner, who, evidently, considered that Dick had been disrespectful.
“I’ve seen you somewhere,” he said, in a surly tone, correcting himself.
“Most likely you have,” said Dick. “That’s where I generally keep myself.”
There was another laugh at the expense of Roswell Crawford, for that was the name of the young aristocrat. But he had his revenge ready. No boy relishes being an object of ridicule, and it was with a feeling of satisfaction that he retorted,—
“I know you for all your impudence. You’re nothing but a boot-black.”
This information took the boys who were standing around by surprise, for Dick was well-dressed, and had none of the implements of his profession with him.
“S’pose I be,” said Dick. “Have you got any objection?”
“Not at all,” said Roswell, curling his lip; “only you’d better stick to blacking boots, and not try to get into a store.”