And so the three youngsters, with their hands deep in the pockets of their scant trousers, started off westward toward "the dago's." The "dago" was a good-hearted Italian who ran a cheap restaurant on Tenth Avenue, and he was always generous with what came away from the tables, especially to the newsboys. But it was not often that Tag and Swipes and Ratsey would call upon him, for their hunting-grounds were usually too far away; on this occasion, however, the boys had invaded the shopping district, hoping to dispose more rapidly of their wares.
They whistled as they trudged along the slippery sidewalks, but wasted few words in conversation. They crossed Sixth Avenue, and by the time they had reached Seventh Avenue they had left the Christmas shoppers behind them. Only an occasional woman passed them, hurrying homeward; and if she carried a bundle, it was a very small one. When they came to Ninth Avenue they turned up one block in order to come out nearer to the "dago's." The thoroughfare was dark and almost deserted, and the snow deadened every sound but the roaring of the elevated cars. As the three boys passed under the iron structure a train went tearing uptownward with a clatter that made Ratsey exclaim:
"Golly, dat's a express, sure! I wish't I was in it; de cars is warm!" He had hardly spoken these words, and the noise of the wheels was already lessening in the distance, when something struck him on the head with a soft thud, and rolled him headlong into the slush underfoot. "Gee!" he exclaimed, as he scrambled to his feet. But before he could say anything more Swipes and Tag had shouted, "Hi-yi!" and "Shut up!" and had turned to gather up what looked to Ratsey like a hundred bundles scattered about in the snow.
"Swipe 'em and run," whispered Tag; and Ratsey, with an inborn instinct to get all he could out of this world, grabbed all he saw, and started on a run after his two companions toward Tenth Avenue. A butcher who had seen the bundles fall from the elevated train as it rushed by came out of his shop and shouted at the boys, but they heeded no calls, and were well out of sight before the man had thought of pursuit.
As soon as they had reached a dark spot in the side street, they dodged into an area to see if they were being chased, and upon making certain that no one was after them, they set out again and made rapidly toward the "dago's." On the way they made up a story to tell to the Italian, and upon entering the place, Tag accounted for the large number of packages they had by announcing that they were delivering Christmas purchases. He also asked the "dago" if they might lay their bundles out on a table in his place, and go over them for easier distribution. There were few customers on hand, and the good-natured Italian let the boys into one of the dozen "parlors" that his restaurant consisted of—stalls, curtained off, and lighted with an oil-lamp that hung down from the ceiling. In some of the other stalls were Italian laborers eating and smoking and talking loud.
The boys drew their curtain carefully, and amid much excitement placed eleven bundles on the little table between them. These packages were from a number of different shops, but had evidently all been done up into one large bundle by the owner for convenience in carrying. The fall of the greater package, however, had reduced it again to its elements.
"Now we all opens one package at a time," whispered Swipes, eagerly, at the same time grabbing the largest of the lot. The other boys likewise seized two promising-looking parcels, and snapped the twine. Then followed exclamations, subdued "ohs!" and "ahs!"—and cries of delight were restrained with the greatest difficulty. The pangs of hunger were entirely forgotten. Tag's package proved to be a good-sized box full of Christmas-tree decorations—candles, globes, glass balls, tinsel, stars, cornucopias, miniature toys of various kinds, bells, and any number of other things. These were all taken out and passed around.
Swipes had drawn three dolls, and was somewhat disgusted (although he asked Tag what he thought they would "sell for"); but Ratsey was wild with delight, for he had opened a box of soldiers. This, of course, brought the others to his side at once, and the soldiers were taken out of the box and lined up on the table, and a battle was about to be inaugurated, when Tag suggested that all the other bundles be opened to see if there were not more troops available for the slaughter.
Then followed the breaking of every string and the unwrapping of every parcel on the table, but no more soldiers were forth-coming. There were a Noah's ark, and some picture-books, a train of cars, blocks, puzzles, a horn (which Ratsey almost blew before Tag throttled him), a box of writing-paper, a pocket-book, and a set of garden tools. When these treasures lay heaped upon the table, the boys very nearly had spasms, for such a wealth of playthings they had never seen before (having always been chased out of toy-shops by officious and unfeeling salesmen).
"Findin's is keepin's, I suppose," remarked Swipes, presently.