"For how much?"

"Four or five dollars a week."

"Oh, I can't pay that much! Why, where I come from you can get good
board for three dollars a week."

"That's the country, ain't it?"

"Yes."

"Well, New York City ain't the country. You have to pay more for things
here."

"I suppose that is true."

"Come on over and talk to mother. What's your handle? Mine is Dick
Talcott."

"Nat Nason. I am glad to know you." And our hero shook hands, which made
the newsboy grin all over.

With his papers under his arm, Dick Talcott hurried down a side street,
and around a corner. He stopped in front of a four-story brick house.

"We live on the third floor," said he. "Come on up," and he led the way
up the somewhat narrow stairs. It was pitch-dark, and Nat kept close
behind, so as not to run into anything.

"Mother, here is a boy who wants board," announced Dick, as he threw
open a door. Then the pair entered a living room, where a middle-aged
woman sat by a table, mending some underwear.

The woman arose and came forward, and Nat saw that she was rather
pleasant looking. She was a widow, her husband having died only the year
previous.

"So you wish board?" she said. "I will show you what rooms I have."

"He don't want to pay much, mother," put in the son. "He's just arrived
in New York from the country, and he wants work."

"I can let you have a small hall room, with breakfast and supper, for
three dollars and a half," said Mrs. Talcott. "That is the best I can
do. Of course, you'll want to take lunch along to your work, unless you
get work near here. Where do you come from?"

"Ohio."

"Is that so! The late Mr. Talcott came from Ohio."

"I think I had better take the room, at least for a week," said Nat. The
manner of the lady pleased him. She was evidently poor, but of good
breeding.

"Very well. Do you want the room to-night?"

"Yes."

"Have you had supper?"

"Yes, I had a bite on the train."

"Very well, I'll get the room ready for you."

"And I'll go out and finish selling my papers," said Dick Talcott, and
ran out of the room and down the stairs, two steps at a time.

CHAPTER IX

FIRST DAYS IN NEW YORK

Having paid for his room for one week in advance, Nat sat down to talk
to Mrs. Talcott. He found her a very pleasant woman, whose experiences
in life had been much varied.

"Dick is the only person left to me," said she. "He had both a brother
and a sister, but they died when they