The Newsboy Partners: or, Who Was Dick Box?
"I'll find a bunk some place," thought Jimmy as he plodded on. "It ain't so cold, an' it'll be warmer by mornin'. I know what I'll do, I'll go down t' dat alley where all de big empty boxes is. One of dem'll make a fine bed, an' it'll be warm. Crimps! I'm glad dat entered my head. It's almost as good as de bunk house. Well, anyway, I had a swell time, an' I kin go widout eatin' till I make somethin' in de mornin'. But it's tough luck; it sure is tough luck."
Having thus made the best of his ill-fortune, Jimmy started off toward the alley of which he had spoken. It was in the factory district, on what is known as the "East Side," among the tenements of New York, where the poor lived. Jimmy knew his way about the big city, and he was soon at the place.
It was an alley at the side of a big clothing factory, and piled up in it along the driveway were tiers of big packing boxes from which the contents had been taken and stored in the factory.
Jimmy first took a careful survey of the street before entering the alley, for he had two enemies for whom he must look out – the policeman on the beat and the night watchman of the factory. Both of these individuals objected to boys staying in the packing boxes, and Jimmy more than once had been detected and driven out just as he was ready to go to sleep.
But to-night neither the policeman nor the watchman was in sight. Still Jimmy proceeded cautiously. With a cat-like tread he entered the alley, peering about for a possible sight of the watchman.
"Guess he's inside," thought the boy. "Now if I kin find de box wid de old sacks in it I'll be all to de merry."
The box he referred to was one he had slept in on several other occasions when his funds were gone. He had discovered some old bags, and had piled them up in the packing case, making a rude bed. This box was near an angle of the alley, and the open side of it was up against the building, so that by moving it out a short distance, just wide enough to allow himself to crawl in, Jimmy would have quite a sheltered place.
He stole along, pausing every now and then in the dark alley to discover if the watchman was anywhere about. But all was still save for the whistles of the boats on the East River, for the factory ran down to the edge of the docks on the water front.
"All serene, I t'ink," mused the boy. "Now fer a good snooze."
He found the box he was looking for, and to his delight the pile of bags was not disturbed. Jimmy crawled in, shook up the "bed-clothes," stretched out on them and was soon sound asleep, all his troubles for the time being forgotten.
CHAPTER IV
THE NEW BOY
Several hours later, just when it was getting daylight, Jimmy was awakened by hearing a strange noise close to his ear. At first he thought he was dreaming, but when the noise continued – a noise of some one groaning as if in pain – the newsboy sat suddenly up on the pile of bags and looked about him.
A little light came in between the packing box and the side of the factory, and by it Jimmy was startled to perceive that his lodging place had another occupant than himself.
"Hello! Who are youse?" asked Jimmy.
There was no answer save a cry of pain.
"What's de matter?" asked Jimmy again, putting out his hand, for he could not exactly tell whether the dark object was a human being or a big black dog.
"Oh! Oh!" murmured a voice. "My head! My head!"
"Why, it's a kid!" exclaimed Jimmy. "A kid! He must be down on his luck, too, an' crawled in here to bunk. Hey, kid," he went on, "what's de matter wid yer head?"
The new boy gave no answer. Jimmy turned back one of the bags which the stranger had partly pulled up over his shoulders. As he did so a glint of the rising sun struck in between the wall and the edge of the box, lighting up the interior more plainly.
"Why, it's a swell guy!" said Jimmy, as he saw that the boy was very well dressed. "He's got nobby clothes on. I wonder what he's doin' here? Maybe he's run away after readin' dem five-cent weeklies. Crimps! But dis is a go!"
He could now see the stranger distinctly. He was a boy about Jimmy's age, but his clothes were much different from the ragged garments of the newsboy.
"Hey, what's de matter wid youse?" inquired Jimmy, as he saw that the other made no attempt to get up.
"My head! Oh, how it hurts!" murmured the boy. His eyes were closed, and his face was very pale.
Jimmy looked more closely at him. Then, to his surprise, he saw there was quite a cut on the boy's forehead. The blood had dried on it, leaving a red streak on the white skin.
"Crimps! Some bloke swiped him one on de noddle!" cried Jimmy. "A nasty one, fer a fact. He's half dead from it. Wonder how in de woild he ever come here? Maybe dey robbed him an' chucked him in here so de cops wouldn't git on to it. I've got t' do somethin'. Hey, kid," he went on, "can't youse git up?"
The boy murmured something Jimmy could not understand.
"Mebby I'd better tell some one," thought the newsboy. "He might die in here. Den if I do dey may say I done it an' I'll git inter trouble. Crimps! But dis is a queer go!"
Kneeling there in the big packing box beside the injured boy Jimmy rapidly thought over the situation. He was considering, in his own way, what was the best thing to do. Finally he decided.
"I'll doctor him a bit meself first," he murmured. "Dat cut needs washin'. Den mebby he'll rouse up a bit. It's early, an' I guess I can sneak out in de yard an' git some water from de faucet. Dat watchman will be tendin' to de fires now."
Peering cautiously out of the box, Jimmy saw no one in the factory yard. He knew where there was a faucet, near a trough where the horses were watered, and usually there was a pail beside it. He had often made his morning toilet there.
Running to it, he drew some water in the pail, and returning to the box, he shoved the receptacle from the wall and used his hand to wash the blood off the other boy's head as he knelt beside him. At the first touch of the cold water the stranger sat up. His eyes opened in a wondering stare, and he exclaimed:
"Where am I?"
"Now take it easy, kid," advised Jimmy. "Ye're all right, an' ye're in a safe place – anyway, fer a while yet. Here, take a drink of dis; it'll do youse good."
Hardly realizing what he did, the boy drank from the big pail which Jimmy held up for him. This made the stranger feel much better.
"Where am I?" he repeated. "How did I come here?" and he looked about him in surprise as his eyes took in the narrow quarters of the box.
"Youse kin search me, kid," replied Jimmy frankly. "I come in here t' bunk 'cause some bloke swiped all me chink. When I wakes up I sees youse. First I t'ought youse was a dog, den I heard youse moanin' an' I sees de cut on yer head."
"Oh, my head! It hurts very much'"
"Put some more cold water on it," advised the amateur doctor, and the boy did so.
"How's dat?" asked Jimmy.
"Better. I feel much better. But I can't understand how I came here."
"I can't needer. What's yer name?"
"Name?" repeated the other with a wondering stare.
"Sure. What do de odder kids call youse?"
"Oh! My name is Dick."
"Dick? Dick what? Youse must have two names, same's I have."
"Why, yes, of course I have. My name is Dick – Dick – er – I – I – why!" the new boy exclaimed, trying to get up on his knees, but finding he was too weak. "I – I can't remember what my other name is – it's gone from me – something seems to have happened. I remember my first name is Dick, but I can't think what my last name is. Can't you help me?" and he turned a piteous look on Jimmy.
"Dat's queer!" exclaimed Jimmy. "He's forgot his name! What am I up against?"
"Don't you remember my other name?" begged the boy.
"Me? No. How kin I remember it when I never seen youse before? Don't youse know yer own name?"
"I did, but it's gone from me. All I can remember is that they called me Dick."
"Yes, Dick; but Dick what?"
"I don't know." The sufferer tried hard to think what his other name was, but it was impossible to recollect.
"Can't ye remember anythin' else?" asked Jimmy. "Where'd youse come from?"
"I can't remember that, either. All I know is that I got hit on the head. Then it was all dark, and the next thing I recollect I saw you putting water on my head."
"Dis sure is a queer go," murmured Jimmy. "Here I am wid a kid dat can't even remember his own name, an' me dead broke. Oh, yes, dis is a nice state of affairs!"
CHAPTER V
DICK'S NEW NAME
For a minute or more Jimmy thought over the situation. He had been in many strange plights, even in his short life, but never had he known such a situation as this was. He hardly knew what to do.
"Where are we?" asked Dick, while he continued to bathe his head with the water.
"We're in a big box, in a factory alley, down by de East River," replied the newsboy. "Dis is me headquarters when I ain't got no coin."
"I think – I'm not sure – but maybe I have a little money," said Dick. "I remember having some. This place is so cramped I can't get my hand in my pocket."
"Lay down an' stretch out on yer back; den ye kin," advised Jimmy. "Dat's what I have t' do. Dis place ain't hardly big enough fer two."
The other lad did so, and when he put his hand in his pocket the musical jingle of change rewarded him.
"Dat's chink, sure enough!" decided the newsboy. "Now how much is it?"
Dick pulled out a handful of coins. With practiced fingers Jimmy counted the money.
"Two dollars an' fourteen cents," he announced. "Dat ain't so bad. Where'd ye git it? What d'ye work at?"
"I don't know. I can't seem to remember. I can't remember anything but that they called me Dick."
"Dat's queer. But we kin fix dat part of it."
"What part?"
"About de name."
"How do you mean? Do you know my other name?"
"No, but youse got t' have one. Everybody has t' have two names. I'll tell youse what I'll do. I'll give youse another name, an' youse kin keep it till youse gits yer own back."
The other boy looked a little doubtful of this proceeding.
"What will you name me?" he asked.
"I'll call youse Dick Box."
"Dick Box? That's a queer name."
"Well, dis is a queer go all around. Youse says yer first name is Dick. Well, I finds youse in a box, so I'll call youse Dick Box. See?"
"I suppose that will do as well as any other name for the present," agreed Dick, "Perhaps I can remember my other name when my head stops hurting."
"Does it hurt yet?"
"Quite a bit."
"Den let's git outer here," proposed Jimmy. "De watchman'll be along in a little while, and he'll kick us out anyhow. I kin take youse t' a hospital, if youse want's t' go. It don't cost nuttin'. I was dere once, when a cab-horse stepped on me foot. Dey treated me out of sight."
"Oh, I don't think my head is bad enough to go to a hospital for," said Dick. "Perhaps, when I get out in the air, it will feel better. It aches now, and I believe I'm hungry."
"Don't say a word. I am too," replied Jimmy. "But I ain't got de price. Here, better take yer chink, before it gits lost," and he handed Dick back the coins.
"Perhaps you'll – I mean – wouldn't you like to go with me and have some breakfast?" proposed Dick. "I'm a stranger here. By the way, what city am I in?"
"Say, does youse mean dat?"
"Mean what?"
"Don't youse know ye're in N'York?"
"New York? Is this New York? No, I had no idea where I was."
"Well, if dis ain't de limit!" exclaimed Jimmy. "It's gittin' wuss instead of better, Dick Box."
"What is?"
"Dis mystery about youse. Say, honest, youse ain't kiddin' me, is ye?"
"Kidding you? You mean fooling you? Of course not! All I know is that I started away from some place – I can't just remember where – and the next thing I knew I was in the box."
"Well, I guess it's straight goods," admitted Jimmy, with a sigh, "but it sure is a queer go. Youse must have come from some swell joint, den."
"What makes you think so?"
"Why, yer clothes is all to de good. Ye're right in de latest style. Didn't nobody kidnap youse, did dey?"
"Not that I know of."
Dick passed his hand over his head with a bewildered air. It was close in the box, and, now that the sun was up, was getting quite warm.
"Come on; let's git outer here, an' den we kin talk better," proposed the newsboy. He peered out, and, seeing that the coast was clear, he crawled out of the box, followed by Dick.
"I guess we kin take a little scrub in me bathroom, an' den we'll git somethin' t' eat," proposed the street lad, as he led the way to the faucet over the horse-trough. Fortunately the watchman was inside the factory turning on the fires ready for the men who would soon arrive.
Jimmy gave himself a vigorous wash, and then said to Dick:
"Now it's your turn."
Dick appeared to hesitate.
"What's de matter?" asked Jimmy. "It ain't very cold. De cook fergot t' make de fire in de range last night, an' dere ain't no hot water. I'll bounce her if she does it ag'in."
"Why, there isn't any – any towel," said Dick.
"Towel? Well, I guess nixy. Pocket hankcheff's good 'nuff fer me. If ye ain't got none ye kin take mine. It's pretty clean."
"No, thank you, I have a handkerchief."
In spite of the fact that Dick had evidently been used to certain luxuries, he made the best of the improvised bathroom. He washed his face and hands, drying them on a handkerchief of fine quality, at the sight of which Jimmy's eyes opened wider than ever.
"He sure is some rich guy," he said to himself. "Dere's somethin' queer about dis. But I'll git t' de bottom of it, er me name ain't Jimmy Small."
"Where's yer hat?" asked Jimmy of Dick when the washing operations were over.
"That's so. I must have had one."
"Maybe it's back in de box. I'll go look."
He came back in a few seconds with a soft hat and placed it on Dick's head. As he did so he uttered a cry of astonishment.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick.
"Say, no wonder yer mind went back on youse. Dere's a lump as big as a baseball on de back of yer cocoanut. Dat's what made youse fergit yer name, I guess."
Dick felt of the back of his head. Sure enough there was a large swelling there, and it was very painful.
"Who done it?" asked Jimmy.
"I can't remember."
"Dat's funny. If some bloke fetched me a swipe like dat you bet I'd remember it. But come on, we'd better be makin' tracks outer her, 'fore de watchman spots us. I don't want him t' disturb me bed. I might need it ag'in."
"Suppose we go and get some breakfast?" proposed Dick.
"I'm broke, I told youse."
"But I have money enough for both of us."
"Goin' t' stand treat?"
"Why not? It would be a small return for what you did for me."
"Aw, dat's nuttin'. Well, den, come on. I knows a good joint where it's cheap. Have a cigarette?"
It was all the newsboy had to offer, and he meant it well, as he held out the box to Dick.
"No, thank you," replied the other lad. "I don't smoke."
"I'll learn ye," proposed Jimmy generously, "It's easy, an' it's lots of sport."
"I don't think I care for it."
"I didn't needer, first. Made me sick. But I got used to it. Well, I'll light up."
"Before breakfast?"
"Sure. Den I won't be so hungry."
"Oh, don't be afraid of your appetite. I guess I have enough for breakfast for the both of us."
"Dat's all right," Jimmy assured him, "but if dat's all ye got, ye can't live long on it. What youse goin' t' do when dat's gone?"
"That's so; I hadn't thought of it. I wonder what I am going to do? It's queer, but I can't seem to remember anything."
"I guess it is queer. But say, don't worry. I'll look after youse until yer memory comes back."
"Suppose it never comes back?"
Dick looked worried. He was trying to recall something about himself, but it was hard work. Try as he did to think, he could recollect nothing but that his name was Dick.
"Well, no use lookin' fer trouble," remarked Jimmy. "Let's go eat, an' den we'll see what's best t' be done."
The two boys, so strangely contrasted, one evidently from a rich home, to judge by his clothes and manner, the other a gamin of the streets, passed out of the factory yard. As they went the watchman saw them.
"Here!" he called. "Where you fellows going?"
"We're goin' out," replied Jimmy. "Why, did youse want us?"
"You young rascals! You'd better go!" cried the man, shaking his first at them. "If I catch you trying to sneak in here again after wood, I'll set the police after you."
"He don't know we've been in dere all night," said Jimmy with a chuckle to his companion. "Oh, I fooled him all right."
Jimmy led the way to a cheap restaurant he knew of, and though Dick shrank back a little, at the sight of the not very clean place, he went in, for he was very hungry. The two boys made a substantial meal, and Dick paid for it.
"How do you feel now?" asked Jimmy.
"A little better, but I'm rather weak; as if I'd been sick for quite a while."
"Youse don't look very well. What youse needs is a place where ye kin lay down. I know what t' do. Come along."
"Where?"
"To de lodgin'-house. I knows a feller what's got a room dere, an' maybe he'll let ye stay in it t'-day when he's out sellin' papes."
"What do you do for a living, Jimmy?"
"Me? Oh, I sell papes, too, when I got de chink t' buy 'em. I've got t' git a stake dis mornin' an' start in. But I'll take youse t' dat room first. Come on."
Dick, walking with rather trembling footsteps, followed Jimmy, who led the way to the Newsboys' Lodging House. He hoped he would be in time to find Frank Merton, for he had decided to appeal to him to take Dick Box in for a few days.
CHAPTER VI
JIMMY ACTS AS NURSE
Frank Merton was just coming down the steps of the Newsboys' Lodging House as Jimmy and Dick reached it.
"Hello, Jimmy," greeted Frank.
"Hello," was the answer. "Where youse goin'?"
"To work. I've got a job doing some gardening for a man over in Brooklyn."
"Dat's a good ways off."
"Yes, but it will pay me better than selling papers. He is one of my regular customers, and when he asked me if I knew any one who would do some work around the garden I offered myself. But why aren't you out with your papers, Jimmy?"
"No chink."
"I'll lend you some money."
"Never mind, Frank. I kin get staked easy enough. I'm goin' t' ask annudder favor of youse."
"What is it?"
"Here's a friend of mine, Dick Box, an' he ain't got no place t' stay. He's sick."
"Dick Box? That's a queer name."
"I give him de last name. Found him in me box," and Jimmy told the circumstances of discovering Dick. During this conversation Dick, who was growing quite pale, sat down on the steps of the building.
"What do you want me to do, Jimmy?" asked Frank.
"I t'ought mebby ye'd let him stay in yer room wid youse fer a day or so, till he's strong. Dat blow he got on his cocoanut sort of knocked him out."
"Of course I will. You came at just a lucky time."
"How's dat?"
"Why, I'm going to stay over in Brooklyn for several days. The gentleman I am to work for is going to allow me to sleep in a spare room while I am weeding and fixing up his garden. I will not need my room, and you and Dick can use it just as well as not."
"Say, dat's de stuff!" exclaimed Jimmy. "Dat's all to de merry. Kin he go right up?"
"Yes, here is my key, and I'll explain to Mr. Snowden, the manager. You had better stay with Dick, Jimmy. He doesn't look well."
"I guess he ain't. I'll look out fer him. Say, Frank, ye're a good feller. I'll pay youse back some day."
"I'm not doing this for pay, Jimmy. Perhaps I will be in trouble myself, some time, and I will want help."
"Well, if youse does, jest call on yours truly," said Jimmy earnestly.
Matters were soon explained to the manager, who agreed to let Jimmy and Dick stay in Frank's room during the time he was away. At first Dick insisted on using what little money he had to hire a place, but Jimmy pointed out that, as a strange lad in a big city and sick as he was, he would need all the change he had.
"All right," agreed Dick wearily, for his head was aching greatly.
Frank and Jimmy put him in bed, after he had undressed, and then Frank had to go.
"Perhaps I'd better leave you some money," proposed Frank to Jimmy. "You might have to call a doctor."
"Say, youse must be rich," spoke Jimmy.
"No, but I have a few dollars saved up. You are welcome to some if you need it for Dick."
"Oh, I kin earn plenty, if I once git staked t' some coin fer papes," announced the young newsboy.
"Then let me stake you."
"I have some money left," murmured Dick. "Take that, Jimmy, and buy your papers. I'll not need it."
"Youse can't tell about dat. But I kin double it in a little while, if business is good."
"You had better let me loan you some," proposed Frank.
"No. I'll take his," decided Jimmy. "If he hasn't any room rent t' pay he'll not need any chink right away, an' I'll have some by t'-night. Much obliged, Frank."
"You had better stay here with him to-night," suggested Frank. "The room is big enough for two, and you are welcome to use it."
"T'anks. Mebby I will. But ye'd better skip over t' Brooklyn now, or youse might lose yer job."
"That's so. Do you think he'll be all right?"
"I guess so. He looks pretty sick, though."
"Oh, I'll be all right in a little while," murmured Dick, but the sight of his pale face, with the long red cut on the forehead, did not seem to bear out his words.
However, as Frank could do no particular good, and as he knew he was needed in Brooklyn, he left, bidding the two boys good-by.
"You needn't stay, Jimmy," said Dick. "Take my money, go out, and buy some papers."
"All right. I'm only jest borrowin' it, ye know. I'll pay youse back t'-night."
"That's all right."
Dick spoke in a very faint voice. His face became paler than ever, and his breathing was so strange that Jimmy became alarmed.
"Maybe he's dyin'," he thought. "Guess I'll tell de manager."
The head of the lodging-house came in response to the summons of the newsboy and looked at Dick.
"He ought to have a doctor," Mr. Snowden said. "I'll call in the district doctor."
This was a physician, paid by the city, to look after the poor, and he soon came in and examined Dick.
"The boy is suffering from shock," he said. "He needs rest and quiet, and some simple medicine. He'll be all right in a day or so."
"Will his memory come back?" asked Jimmy.
"I think so – yes. It is only gone temporarily."
He left some medicine for Dick, after giving him the first dose.
"Now I am up against it," remarked Jimmy to the manager, as the physician went away.
"What's the matter?"
"Why, I've got t' stay an' take care of him, an' I don't see how I'm goin' t' sell me papes."
"Oh, that's it, eh? Well, don't let that worry you. I think he'll be all right for a while, and I'll look in every hour or so. You go ahead and sell your papers."
The manager was a kind-hearted man and did all he could to help the boys.
"Dat'll be de stuff!" exclaimed Jimmy. "I'll hustle out, an' git t' work. I'll be nurse t' him t'-night. He's a queer kid, an' I'd like t' find out who he is an' where he come from."
"Probably you will, when he gets better," said the manager. "But you'd better hurry out now, if you expect to sell any extras to-day."
Taking a dollar of Dick's money to buy papers with, Jimmy started off. It was a good day for news, there being a number of sensational happenings and every one seemed to want to read about them. Jimmy sold more papers than he had disposed of before in a long time.
"Guess Dick Box must have brought me luck back t' me," he thought. "All de same, I'd like t' git hold of Mike Conroy an' see if he robbed me."
But the bully kept out of Jimmy's way, or else the latter did not see the youth whom he suspected of picking his pocket.
At noon time, having made a dollar and seven cents profit, Jimmy got some dinner and then hurried to the lodging-house to inquire about Dick, as, already, he felt a strong liking for the boy whom he had befriended.