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?"
[Illustration: "Where am I?" asked the strange boy. _Page_ 30]
"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!"