“But how does he make any money out of it?” asked Mrs. Malony.
“Oh, he keeps all I take in over ten dollars, and I guess it will be more than that lots of times, for big crowds of children go to the park these Summer days. Then, too, we don’t give such long rides as I’ve been giving. They charge only five cents a ride in the park, and I charge ten sometimes, but then I go all around a big block.
“But I think it’ll be a good thing for us, Mother. Ten dollars a week is a lot of money. Of course I’ll have to buy the feed for Lightfoot out of that, and a bit of lunch for myself.”
“Sure, I can put that up for you in the morning,” said the widow with a smile. “It’s great, Mike my boy! Sure we’ve had good luck ever since we got Lightfoot.”
The next day, bright and early, Mike drove his goat and wagon to the big park which was in the upper part of the city, not far from where the squatters had built their shanties on the rocks.
“Well, I see you are on time,” said the man who had the privilege of managing the goat wagons in the park. No wagons other than those he permitted could come in to give the children rides, so if Mike had not accepted his offer the boy could not have done a park business on his own account.
“Yes, Lightfoot and I are all ready,” said Mike.
In a little while the other goats were brought from the stable in the park where they were kept, and harnessed to small wagons. The wagons were better painted than Mike’s, but were no cleaner nor larger. And as a friend of his mother’s had given her a strip of bright red carpet, Mike put this in the bottom of his goat cart, so that it looked gay and cheerful.
“Huh! Got a new boy, it seems,” said one of the small drivers, as he noticed Lightfoot and Mike.
“Yes, an’ if he tries to take away any of my customers he’ll get in trouble,” said another, shaking his fist at Mike.