Produced by Al Haines
[Transcriber's note: the source book for this etext was missing the
leaf containing pages 3 and 4. Should you have page scans for these
pages, please contact Project Gutenberg's Errata reporting system at
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[Illustration: Cover art]
[Frontispiece: "Cheese it! De cop!" _Page_ 119]
The Newsboy Partners
Or
Who Was Dick Box?
BY
FRANK V. WEBSTER
AUTHOR OF "ONLY A FARM BOY," "BOB THE CASTAWAY," "THE BOY
FROM THE RANCH," "THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
BOOKS FOR BOYS
_By FRANK V. WEBSTER_
12mo. Illustrated. Bound in cloth.
ONLY A FARM BOY, Or Dan Hardy's Rise in Life
TOM THE TELEPHONE BOY, Or The Mystery of a Message
THE BOY FROM THE RANCH, Or Roy Bradner's City Experiences
THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER, Or Fred Stanley's Trip to Alaska
BOB THE CASTAWAY, Or The Wreck of the Eagle
THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE, Or Herbert Dare's Pluck
THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS, Or Who Was Dick Box?
THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES, Or Nat Morton's Perils
TWO BOY GOLD MINERS, Or Lost in the Mountains
JACK THE RUNAWAY, Or On the Road with a Circus
_Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York_
Copyright, 1909, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. JIMMY IS IN LUCK
II. JIMMY IS OUT OF LUCK
III. A BOX FOR A BED
IV. THE NEW BOY
V. DICK'S NEW NAME
VI. JIMMY ACTS AS NURSE
VII. JIMMY CONSIDERS MATTERS
VIII. DIM RECOLLECTIONS
IX. THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS
X. AN ENCOUNTER WITH CONROY
XI. PLANNING A TRICK
XII. DICK BECOMES A TEACHER
XIII. BULLDOG QUESTIONS DICK
XIV. JIMMY'S FURTHER PROGRESS
XV. PATCHING PENNIES
XVI. THE DOCTOR'S VERDICT
XVII. AN OFFER OF A STAND
XVIII. BULLDOG THREATENS DICK
XIX. JIMMY TO THE RESCUE
XX. DICK IS ILL
XXI. JIMMY IN TROUBLE
XXII. MR. CROSSCRAB IS ROBBED
XXIII. BACK AT BUSINESS
XXIV. MR. CROSSCRAB'S VISIT
XXV. WHO DICK BOX WAS--CONCLUSION
ILLUSTRATIONS
"Cheese it! De cop!" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_
"Where am I?" asked the strange boy
"We'll begin on the letters," said Dick
"Didn't youse run away from home?"
THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS
CHAPTER I
JIMMY IS IN LUCK
"Wuxtry! Wuxtry! Full account of de big f-i-r-e! Here ye are!
Wuxtry! _Woild, Joinal, Sun, Telegram_! Here ye are, mister! Git de
latest wuxtry! Wuxtry! Wuxtry!"
Jimmy Small was only one of a dozen newsboys crying the same thing in
City Hall Park, New York. The lads, ragged little chaps, were rushing
at all in whom they saw possible customers, thrusting the papers in
their very faces, a fierce rivalry taking place whenever two of the
boys reached the same man at the same time. But of all who cried none
shouted louder than this same Jimmy Small, and none was more active in
rushing here and there with papers.
"Wuxtry! Wuxtry!" yelled Jimmy, for that was how he and the other boys
pronounced the word "Extra."
"What's the extra about?" asked a well-dressed man, stopping Jimmy.
"Wuxtry! Big fire! Dozen people burned to death! Here ye are!
Wuxtry! Full account of de big f-i-r-e!"
Jimmy could not stop long to talk. He must sell papers. He snatched
one from the bundle under his arm, thrust it into the man's hand, took
the nickel the customer gave him, handed the man four pennies in
change, and all the while was yelling at the top of his voice his
war-cry:
"Wuxtry! Wuxtry!"
Jimmy had secured his bunch of papers from one of the delivery wagons
on Park Row--Newspaper Row, as it is sometimes called. He had dashed
across the park toward Broadway, selling as he ran. He wanted to reach
a certain corner at Broadway and Barclay Street, where he could be sure
of finding many customers who would buy papers on their way to take the
ferry over to New Jersey. Jimmy usually made that corner his
headquarters.
As he hurried on he was stopped several times by men who, attracted by
his loud shouts, wanted to buy papers to see what the extra was about.
As it happened, there had been a disastrous fire in New York that day
in which a number of per-
[Transcriber's note: page 3 missing from book]
[Transcriber's note: page 4 missing from book]
"Well, I ain't yer son. Ner I ain't no signpost either. D'ye want a
pape?"
"I don't know. Perhaps I might take one," was the answer in drawling
tones. "Are you selling papers?"
"Naw, I'm here fer me health. De doctor said I had t' stand here t'
git fresh air," replied Jimmy with contempt in his tones, for he saw
that the young man was from the country, unused to city ways, and, as a
boy who had lived in New York all his life, Jimmy had not much use for
country folks.
"You're something of a joker, aren't you?" asked the young man, good
humor showing in his blue eyes. He did not seem to be offended at
Jimmy's answer.
"Naw, I'm a newsie. Want a pape? _Sun, Woild, Joinal_? Wuxtry! All
about de big fire!"
"Which is the best paper?" asked the young man with a smile.
"Aw, g'wan! T'ink I'm going t' play favorites? Dey is all alike t'
me. One's de same as de udder. I ain't goin' t' knock any of 'em. I
makes me livin' by sellin' 'em all, dat's what!"
"Then I guess I'll take a _Sun_. But could you tell me the way to the
Brooklyn Bridge? I'm a stranger in New York."
"Oh, I kin see dat all right enough," replied Jimmy with a little
kindlier feeling toward the man, now that he had proved to be a
customer. "Youse from de country all right."
"How can you tell that?"
"'Cause youse talks so slow. Folks here ain't got time t' waste so
much talk over deir woids. Ye got t' hustle in N'York."
"I believe you, from what little I have seen. You are right, I am from
the country, and I'm on my way to visit an aunt in Brooklyn. I thought
I'd walk over the bridge, for I've read a lot about it."
"Well, go up one block," said Jimmy, pointing toward Park Place, "den
cut t'rough City Hall Park by de side of de post-office here an' foller
de crowd. Youse can't miss it. But youse wants t' look out."
"What for?"
"If ye gits in de push youse'll be squeezed t' death. It's an awful
mob dat goes t' Brooklyn dis time o' day."
"Well, I'll be careful. Do you live around here?"
"Who, me? Oh, yes, I lives around here," and Jimmy, with a wave of his
hand, included nearly the whole of New York.
"What's your name?"
"Say, who are youse, anyhow?" inquired the newsboy, suddenly suspicious.
"My name is Joshua Crosscrab, and I'm from Newton, Vermont," replied
the young man, still good-natured.
"Aw, I mean who be ye? Be youse a detective, er from some society what
takes up kids fer sellin' papes on de street?"
"No, I'm not a detective. What makes you think so?"
"'Cause youse asks so many questions."
"I am interested. I never was in New York before, and I see so many
things that are strange that I want to know about them. Up our way we
believe in getting acquainted, so I thought I'd try it here. Every one
I talked to, though, seemed to think I was a swindler, I guess."
"Dat's right. Youse has t' be careful who youse talk to in N'York,"
said Jimmy with a comical air of wisdom.
"But you haven't told me your name yet," persisted Mr. Crosscrab.
"Sure youse ain't none of them children sasiety detectives?" asked the
newsboy.
"Sure. I'll give you my promise."
"Well, me name is Jimmy Small. Here ye are, sir! Paper! Wuxtry! All
about de big fire! Thirteen killed!"
Jimmy had interrupted his information to dispose of a paper to a man.
"Jimmy Small," repeated the man. "Where do you live?"
"Oh, I've got a swell joint on upper Fifth Avenoo," replied the boy,
with a wink, "but it's rented fer de season, an' I ain't livin' in it."
"No, I am serious," said Mr. Crosscrab. "I would really like to know."
"Honest? No kiddin'?" inquired Jimmy.
"No what?"
"No kiddin'. Is it de real goods? Youse ain't tryin' t' run up an
alley on me, is yer?"
"I don't exactly understand you, but I am really asking because I am
interested in you. I have a brother about your age, and I was
wondering how he would make out if he had to sell papers for a living."
"Say, take it from me, mister," spoke Jimmy earnestly. "Don't let him
do it. Dere's too many in de business now. Don't let him come t'
N'York an' sell papers!"
"Oh, he's not very likely to. But you haven't told me where you live."
"Aw, most anywheres. Wherever I kin. If I'm flush wid de coin I takes
a bed at de lodgin'-house. When I'm busted--on me uppers--cleaned
out--nuthin' doin'--why, I takes a chance at a bench in de park when
it's warm. If de cop don't see youse it's all right. Sometimes I hits
up an empty box, an' I've done me turn in a hallway. Under a dock
ain't so bad, only dere's too many rats t' suit me."
"You lead quite a varied sort of life, don't you?" inquired Mr.
Crosscrab.
"Youse kin search me. I ain't got it," replied Jimmy with more good
humor than he had previously shown. The man's talk was a little above
him.
"I suppose you know your way around New York pretty well, don't you?"
the countryman went on.
"Dat's right. Ye can't lose me."
"Are you here almost every day?"
"When I ain't in Wall Street investin' me millions I am."
"Still inclined to jokes, I see," murmured the man. "Well, I'd like to
know more about you. You seem like a bright lad, and I may want to ask
you some directions about getting around New York. I may see you
to-morrow. Does your father allow you to work all day?"
"I ain't got no fader," said Jimmy. He did not speak sadly. He took
it as a matter of course, for he had been so long without either
father, mother or other relatives to care for him that parents were
only a dim recollection to him. "I ain't got nobody," he went on.
"I'm in business fer meself."
"Haven't you a mother or a sister or a brother?" asked Mr. Crosscrab,
feeling a strong sympathy for the boy.
"Nixy. Not a one."
"How long have you been selling papers?"
"About two years. But say, mister, I don't want to be short wid youse,
only I've got t' go an' git some more papes. I'm sold out, an' dis is
me busy time. Stop around t'-morrer an' I'll tell ye all I know about
N'York."
"That's all right," said Mr. Crosscrab, understanding the situation.
"I didn't mean to keep you from your work. If I pass this way
to-morrow I shall look for you. Here is something to pay you for your
trouble."
He held out a coin to Jimmy, who promptly took it. It was a silver
quarter.
"Crimps!" exclaimed Jimmy as he saw the money. "Say, youse is all
right, that's what youse is! Ye kin ast me questions all day at dat
rate."
Mr. Crosscrab, with a smile and a wave of his hand for good-by, passed
on toward the Brooklyn Bridge, while Jimmy, hardly able to believe his
good fortune, hurried after some more papers.
"I certainly am in luck t'-day," he murmured. "I wonder what ails dat
guy? Maybe he's crazy an' believes in givin' all his money away. I
wish he'd come by t'-morrer. Crimps! But dis is fine! I'll go see a
show t'-night sure!"