“I think he’s got it,” said Gilbert, pointing to Jim, thereby obtaining a customer for the latter.
“We may as well help each other,” said Gilbert. “There’s no use in quarrelling.”
“Do you mean that?” asked Jim, doubtfully.
“Yes, I do.”
“You aint as mean as I thought you was,” said Jim, his dislike beginning to evaporate.
“I hope you’ll stick to that opinion,” said Gilbert, good-humoredly. “When I go out of this business I’ll recommend my friends to patronize you.”
Thus far Gilbert had seen no one whom he knew. That trial was yet to come. I call it a trial, because Gilbert was quite aware that in becoming a newsboy he had made a descent in the social scale. He had taken the step as a matter of necessity, and not because he liked it. He knew very well how it would be regarded by his acquaintances, and he rather dreaded the expressions of surprise which it would elicit.
The first acquaintance to greet him was Alphonso Jones.
“Good gracious, Greyson!” he exclaimed, “what are you doing here?”
“Selling papers,” answered Gilbert, flushing a little.