said. Git a partner."

"Don't youse give him de corner, Bulldog! Youse got as good a right t'
it as he has."

"Sure I have, Mike, an' I'm goin' t' stay here, too."

All this time Bulldog was busy selling papers, while the new stock
Jimmy had obtained was still undiminished.

"What ye buttin' in fer, Mike Conroy?" asked Jimmy of the newcomer.
"It's none of your funeral."

"Aw, g'wan! Guess I kin speak t' Bulldog if I want t'. I'll punch yer
nose fer ye if youse gits too fresh."

"I'd like t' see ye do it!" cried Jimmy, but at the same time he took
good care not to get too near Mike, who was a worse bully than Bulldog.
The latter would not attack smaller boys than himself without some
provocation, but Mike Conroy used to beat and kick them every chance he
got. He had often hit Jimmy.

"Wuxtry! Wuxtry!" cried Bulldog as the crowd of men hurrying to the
ferry came past. He was kept busy selling papers. Poor Jimmy was out
of it. His luck had turned, but it was destined to do so even more
before the night was over. Still, he had sold a large number of
papers. The trouble was he had bought another big supply, and unless
he could quickly dispose of them the crowds would soon be gone, and he
would have them left on his hands, to return to the offices, thus
making no profit.

He sold a few on the outskirts of the throng about Bulldog, but as soon
as the latter saw what was going on he made a rush at Jimmy. The
latter fled, for he knew that in a fight he was no match for the larger
lad.

"Where's your papes?" Bulldog asked Mike during a lull in the business
of selling.

"I'm cleaned out. Sold 'em down in Wall Street. Guess I'll take in a
theater t'-night. I kin afford it."

"Wish I could. Maybe I'll go wid ye."

"All right. Goin' t' de lodgin'-house?"

"Sure."

"Keep de kid away from here den till I gits sold out an' I'll go wid
ye," said Bulldog.

Thus he and Mike formed an alliance against Jimmy. While Bulldog
attended to his customers Mike saw to it that Jimmy did not approach
the corner; thus the small lad lost what little chance he had of making
sales. As he was thinking over the unfairness of it, and wondering
where he had better go to dispose of his stock, he was hailed by
another lad about his own size.

"Hello, Jim!" cried the newcomer. "What's the matter?"

"Hello, Frank. Aw, Bulldog Smouder run me off me corner. Dat's what
he done."

"That's too bad," exclaimed Frank Merto