BACK AT BUSINESS
Formalities at the police-station were soon complied with. Mr.
Crosscrab made a complaint of robbery against Mike Conroy, and that
bully was locked up. There was also Jimmy's charge against him, and in
this was also included Bulldog, so that youth, too, was put into a
cell. Mr. Crosscrab and Jimmy were told to appear in the morning as
witnesses.
"Well, Jimmy," remarked Mr. Crosscrab when they were in the street once
more, "you seem to be right on hand when you're wanted."
"It was mostly luck that I prevented him from robbing you though. But
I did myself a good turn, for now I can be cleared of the charge of
upsetting the banana cart."
"If my pocketbook had been stolen it would have meant a serious loss to
me."
"How so?"
"It contains a large sum of money. I am going back to my home in
Newton, Vermont, to-morrow, and I have to take quite a sum with me to
conclude some business matters in which I am engaged. So if Mike had
gotten away with the cash I would have been put to considerable loss."
"Then I am glad I saw him in time. When are you coming around to see
me and my partner, Mr. Crosscrab? He's sick."
"I am sorry to hear that. I meant to come before this, but I have been
quite busy since coming to New York. Then my aunt being taken ill made
me change my plans. However, she is better now, and that is why I am
going home."
"Are you coming back to New York?"
"Yes, I expect to return in about a week, and then I will be glad to
call and see you. I hope Dick Box will soon be better. I never can
help thinking what a queer name that is."
"It is rather odd, but we can't seem to get a better one for him nor
discover his real one."
"That is too bad. I would like very much to see him, and I will just
as soon as I get back. I would call to-night, only it is getting late
and I have several matters to attend to. But I will see you at court
in the morning."
Jimmy bade his friend good-night and hurried to the lodging-house, for
he was anxious about Dick. However, he found his partner much better,
and the doctor said he thought the boy would now speedily recover as
his fever had entirely left him.
Mike and Bulldog were given a preliminary hearing the next day. On the
charge of theft Mike was remanded in heavy bail for the Grand Jury's
action, and Bulldog was also held as a witness. Then Jimmy was
arraigned on the charge, made by the policeman, that he had tipped over
the Italian's cart.
But the previous complaints against the two youths had their effect on
Jimmy's case. He told his story, saying how Bulldog and Mike had
pushed him, and the Italian, who had calmed down to a considerable
extent, gave such testimony that it convinced the magistrate Jimmy was
telling the truth. Mike and Bulldog were questioned, and finally had
to admit that they were the guilty ones.
So they were convicted on that charge, and were sentenced to pay a fine
of ten dollars each. As they did not have the money, and could not get
bail on the other charge, they were taken to the Tombs prison, while
Jimmy was allowed to go. Incidentally the magistrate complimented
Jimmy on the manner in which he had caused the arrest of the two young
criminals.
"Well, I suppose I will have to appear later when Mike's regular trial
comes off," remarked Mr. Crosscrab as he parted from Jimmy in front of
the police court. "But that will not be for some time. Now I am off
for Vermont, but I will not forget to see you when I return. Give my
regards to your partner, in whom, though I have never seen him, I take
a great deal of interest. Poor Dick Box; I must help you to find a
better name for him when I get back."
"I wish you would. The police can't seem to help him."
"Then I will. Good-by, Jimmy."
"Good-by, Mr. Crosscrab."
Jimmy started back to work with a lighter heart than he had had in many
a day, and the principal cause of it was that Dick was getting better.
He would be able to be out in a few days, the doctor said.
So Jimmy hustled around and sold a large number of papers. Frank
Merton and Sam Schmidt had been helping the partners, and business had
not been so bad, though of course the profits were largely taken up in
paying the two boys who did Dick's work.
One afternoon, at the close of the day's business, Sam Schmidt came to
Jimmy with every appearance of excitement.
"What's the matter, Sam?" asked Jimmy. "Found a pocketbook full of
bills?"
"Nope, but I haf alretty found somedings else."
"What is it?"
"I haf found der advertisement about dot Box feller."
"What! About Dick? Have you found something about him in the paper?"
for Sam had not given up looking for a notice in the personal columns
of the papers, which might refer to the strange new boy who had come
into the midst of the news-lads.
"For sure, I haf. Here it iss," and Sam pulled out a piece torn from
the Herald.
"Read it," said Jimmy. "I ain't quite quick enough on me--I mean
my--words yet. You read it."
"Vell, I am not so good on der Englishness of it, but dis is vot it
means. 'If der boy vot runned avay from his home vill come back all
vill be forgiveness, und der money he took to go und fight der Indians
mit, he can keep, for his mudder und his fadder is sorrowfulness mitout
him, und vould he please write or sends a message und all vill be vell,
und he kin haf der pony und der bicycle vot he wants.' Dot's all dere
is to it."
"But don't it say who he is--who the kid is?--though I don't believe
it's Dick that's meant."
"Sure it says who it is vot put it in der paper," replied Sam. "It
says dot der boy is to address Mr. Samuel Wonsonski, New York City."
"Then it ain't Dick," decided Jimmy.
"Vy not? Ain't it got referenceness to a boy vot runned avay; und
ain't Dick a runavay?"
"I don't know as he is. Anyhow, this can't be about him."
"Vy not?"
"Because this is the name of either a Jew or a Russian, and Dick's an
American."
"Oh, maybe dot's so," agreed Sam. "But you can't always sometimes
tell. Maybe he is a part Jew and part Russian and part American. Ve
had better ask him, I dinks."
"Well, it wouldn't do any harm, I s'pose," admitted Jimmy. "Come ahead
over to the lodging-house, and we'll tell him about this advertisement."
They found Dick feeling pretty comfortable, and, as he seemed able to
converse about the mystery, Jimmy began on the subject that had brought
Sam and himself to his partner's room.
"Dick," asked Jimmy, "you don't s'pose you ran away to fight Indians;
did you?"
"Fight Indians? No. Why?"
"And you didn't take any money from your dad; did you?"
"Of course not. What makes you ask such questions?"
"Because it's in der paper," replied Sam. "See, iss dis got anyding to
do mit you?" and he held out the torn piece of the newspaper.
Dick read it quickly, and slowly shook his head. A look of hope had
come into his face when Sam had extended the slip, but it faded away
again, leaving him pale and wan.
"No, I'm sure that isn't my name," he said.
"Are you sure?" asked Sam, who hated to give up the idea.
"Very sure."
"But didn't you want a pony?" asked the German youth.
"No, as near as I can remember, I had a horse or a pony," replied Dick.
"I seem to recall something about owning one. I know I used to take
long drives in a carriage, through a beautiful country."
"Den you didn't lif in New York," declared Sam, positively. "Dis is a
great city, but dere ain't no beautiful country about it. I know. I
lived in der country in der Vaterland, und dot vos country dere vot
_vos_ country," and he sighed in regret.
He looked at the piece of paper once more.
"Vait!" he exclaimed. "Vos you ever haf a desire for a bicycle? Maybe
dot's it. Maybe your fadder vouldn't gif you a bicycle, und you runned
avay to hund Indians, und dey scalped you, und took your remembery mit
'em."
"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Dick, laughing in spite of himself. "I never
cared much for a bicycle. I'm sure I shouldn't have run away from home
because I couldn't have one."
"Und der Indians didn't scalp you?" asked Sam, as if still in doubt.
"No, indeed. I've got all my hair yet, even if my memory has gone back
on me. I guess that must refer to some other boy. Why, of course it
does. Here it says his first name is Isaac, and the description isn't
at all like me."
"Vell, dot's so," admitted Sam, when he had read the item over again.
"I guess it must be somebodies else dan you. I'm sorry, Dick. I
thought sure I hat found out who you vos."
"I wish you had, Sam, but I'll find out some day."
Dick sighed in regret, for the strain was beginning to tell on him.
Nevertheless he bore up well.
At the end of the week Dick was able to go out, and he felt so well
that he insisted that he be allowed to sell papers.
"I don't think you're able to," objected Jimmy.
"Oh, yes, I am. Besides, I want to earn some money. I've been quite
an expense to you."
"Crimps! I don't mean that. But that's nothing. Look what you did
for me. I'm ever so much better off since I met you."
"I am glad you think so, but you must have had to draw some of our
savings out of the bank for medicine and things, and I want to put it
back so we can purchase that stand before Christmas, if possible."
"Oh, Christmas is quite a ways off. Besides, I only used about five
dollars from the bank. Business has been very good lately, even with
paying Frank and Sam a commission."
Since Dick's illness Jimmy had developed quite a business talent, and
as he could now read and write some, he attended to matters connected
with their little bank account, putting some in and at times drawing a
dollar or so out, as it was needed.
Though Jimmy insisted that Dick take a rest before beginning to sell
papers, the latter would not hear of it. The next day he started out
with his bundle as usual, glad to be back at business once more. He
was welcomed by many of his former customers, who remembered him, and
he sold a large number of papers.
"How do you feel?" asked Jimmy that night when the partners were in
their room.
"Pretty good, only a little tired. My, what a lot has happened since
that night I thought you were hurt!"
"I should say so. Mike and Bulldog will not bother us for quite a
while, I guess," and this proved a correct surmise, for some time
later, at the trial, they were both convicted and sent to a reform
school for long terms. Jimmy never recovered the money which Mike
stole from him at the moving picture show nor that taken in Brooklyn.
"Yes, lots of things happened," went on Dick, "only I wish a little
more had."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I wish I knew who I was."
Jimmy said nothing. He did not like to see Dick sad, but he did not
know how to help him in this matter. Would the mystery never be solved?