It was in the midst of the draft excitement in New York; and as it so happened that the young man had actually been drafted, his companion laughed.
“You must buy a paper for that, Jack,” he said.
“I believe I will,” said the first, laughing. “Here’s ten cents. Never mind about the change.”
“Thank you,” said Tom. “Come round to-morrow, and I’ll sell you another.”
“You’ll have me drafted again, I am afraid. Perhaps you will go as my substitute?”
“I would if I was old enough,” said Tom.
“You’re a girl,—aint you? Girls can’t fight.”
“Try me and see,” said Tom. “I can fight any boy of my size.”
The two young men passed on, laughing.
Tom soon had an opportunity to test her prowess. The corner where she had stationed herself was usually occupied by a boy somewhat larger than Tom, who considered that it belonged to him by right. He came up rather late, having a chance to carry a carpet-bag for a guest at French’s Hotel to the Hudson River station. Tom had disposed of half her papers when he came blustering up:—