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The Newsboy Partners; Or, Who Was Dick Box? Part 16

The Newsboy Partners; Or, Who Was Dick Box? - LightNovelsOnl.com

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"Naw. Not de way I do it. I knows a detective, an' I kin find out on de quiet if dere's any alarm out fer a boy answerin' d.i.c.k's description. Dat's what I'll do foist."

Meanwhile d.i.c.k and Jimmy, all unconscious of the plot against them, were in their new room discussing plans for the next day.

CHAPTER XII

d.i.c.k BECOMES A TEACHER

For several days d.i.c.k and Jimmy did well as partners in the newspaper business. There happened to be considerable news, and there was a good demand for papers. Consequently the boys sold a large number and their earnings were considerable.

"Crimps! But we'll be millionaires if dis keeps on," remarked Jimmy one night, when they were in their room counting up their cash.

"Hardly that," replied d.i.c.k, "but we have enough for our next week's room rent, sufficient to live on and three dollars besides. I think we had better open a bank account with that."

"A bank account?"

"Yes; why not? Frank Merton told me about the Dime Savings Bank, where he puts his money."

On Frank's return from Brooklyn he had renewed his acquaintance with d.i.c.k, and the two boys had taken quite a liking to one another.

"Well, youse is de treasurer of dis firm," replied Jimmy. "If youse t'inks a bank account is de proper t'ing, why, go ahead an' open it. I guess I kin stand it if youse kin."

"It will be a good thing in case we have bad luck. We'll have something to fall back on for our room rent."

"All right, sport," exclaimed Jimmy, who occasionally did not use d.i.c.k's name in speaking to him, calling him whatever he happened to think of in the way of street slang. "Go ahead, cully. I'm game."

So the next day d.i.c.k opened a bank account in his name, as Jimmy could not sign the book, a fact of which the newsboy was not at all ashamed.

Nor could he read more than the t.i.tles of the different papers he carried, and these were distinguished by him more by the different kinds of type than by the difference in letters.

d.i.c.k's fear about poor business was justified. A heavy rain storm took place that afternoon, just at the time when the extras came out. It seemed as if every one got in out of the wet, and there were few persons on the street to buy papers. The rain kept up until long after dark, and the two partners, who had to go out rain or s.h.i.+ne, found they had not sold ten papers between them.

"Dis is de time we're up ag'inst it," remarked Jimmy rather dismally as they took back to the newspaper offices the unsold copies and started for their room.

"Well, we can't always expect to do as good business as we did at first. Anyhow, we don't have to worry about our room rent nor our supper. To-morrow we'll probably do better."

"Let's take in a show," proposed Jimmy. "I feel sort of low in me mind, an' a good show'll cheer me up."

"Do you think we can afford it? We haven't made our expenses to-day, and I don't believe we should waste any money on a show. We ought to wait until we have had better luck. Of course half the money is yours, and you can do as you please. Only I'm not going to spend any of mine on a show. Besides, we saw one this week."

"Well, maybe I'd better stay home den," agreed Jimmy with a sigh.

"Anyhow, I've got some cigarettes an' I'll have a smoke."

"Jimmy," said d.i.c.k with a sudden resolve, "I wish you'd do me a favor."

"Sure. What is it?"

"Don't be so quick to promise until you hear what it is. Perhaps you'll not want to do it."

"Why, I'd do anyt'ing fer youse, d.i.c.k."

"Will you give up smoking?"

"What's dat?" asked Jimmy suddenly, pausing in the act of lighting his cigarette.

"I wish you would stop smoking. It can't do you any good, and I'm sure it must do you harm."

"Stop smokin'? Say, I--I don't believe I kin. Honest I don't. Seems like whenever I feel bad a cigarette makes me feel fine."

"That's just the trouble. You will get to depend on them to make you feel good, and you'll have to keep on smoking more and more as you grow older."

"Aw, what's de harm? All de kids does it, an' look at de men."

"I know plenty of them do, but I don't believe any of them can say it benefits them. I read in the paper the other day that a doctor said it was very injurious for boys to smoke. I saved the article. You ought to read it."

"Huh! I can't read me own name."

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't mean to make you feel bad," spoke d.i.c.k quickly. "I forgot you couldn't read."

"Dat's all right, cully. Me feelin's ain't hurted."

"Would you like to read?" asked d.i.c.k as an idea came to him.

"Say, would I? Betcherlife I would. But I don't s'pose I ever kin learn."

"I don't see why not."

"How could I? Who'd teach a newsie like me t' read?"

"I would, Jimmy, if you wanted me to."

"No kiddin'?"

"No 'kidding,' as you call it. I would like to very much."

"Does ye t'ink I kin learn?"

"I don't see why not. You are bright and quick, and you have a good memory, for you know where almost every street in New York is located."

"Oh, dat's easy; but dem letters--every one looks so much alike dat I never kin tell 'em apart."

"Oh, they are all different, as I can soon show you. Will you try?"

"Sure I will. Crimps! But t'ink of me learnin' t' read!"

"And why don't you include writing while you're about it?" asked d.i.c.k with a smile.

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