"I tell you what it is, fellers," said Jimmy, who had been making mental calculations based upon this argument he had unwittingly started, until he believed he understood it better than either of his companions did: "neither one of you hain't got the money to buy either the bracelets or the gloves, so wot's the use of makin' a fuss over it? When I get a paper stand of my own, I'm goin' to buy Katy everything she wants, an' I ain't goin' to let her sell pins, neither."
"Ain't you kinder tired talkin' 'bout that stand, Jimmy? We've heard 'bout it ever since you an' I was pardners, an' you hain't got no nearer to it now than to owe Mother Brown five cents on last week's board."
Johnny said this in a reproving tone, but it is very probable that he did it more to hide his confusion, caused by his partner's first remark, than for any other purpose, for he was usually careful not to hurt Jimmy's feelings.
"I'll have it jest the same," was the calm reply, and then Jimmy relapsed into another fit of chin rubbing, from which he did not arouse himself until one of his friends in the same line of business rushed up with the startling intelligence that there had been "a big accident on the railroad, an' papers are jest goin' to fly to-night."
It was not until quite a late hour in the afternoon that the three friends, who boarded in the same house, met again after their interview was broken in upon by the news of a probable activity in the newspaper business, and when they did meet both the boys were in the highest possible state of excitement.
The prediction that papers would "fly" had been verified, and more than one of Mother Brown's boarders had been made happy. Particularly was this happiness apparent in Jimmy's case. Even while the rush of trade was at its height he had been thinking of what Katy had said about wearing a dress that was not torn, and as his profits accumulated he conceived a plan so brilliant that he could hardly wait to meet Katy before he explained it.
The stores had been closed, and Katy, finding no customers for her pins, was walking slowly toward the not very cheerful place where Mrs. Brown kept a boarding-house for those children of the streets who have no idea of what home is, save as they see it from the outside, peering curiously in at those more fortunate ones who have a father, mother, home, and everything which goes to make up happiness and content.
She had walked nearly down town—for, as may be imagined, Mrs. Brown's house was not in the most pleasant portion of New York—and she was just beginning to wonder where her friends were, when she saw them coming toward her, looking quite as important and a great deal more satisfied than the most prosperous merchant on the street.
"Say, Katy," shouted Jimmy, while he was yet some distance away, his secret having grown so overpowering in the last few moments that he could hardly keep it until he saw the girl, "I've made a dollar 'n' forty-one cents, an' what d'yer s'pose I'm goin' to do with it?"