ndled me."

"I thought it was the other way."

"None of your nonsense," said the man angrily. "If you don't give up
that pocket-book, I'll call a policeman."

"I wish you would," said Dick. "They'll know most likely whether
it's Stewart or Astor that's lost the pocket-book, and I can get 'em
to return it."

The "dropper," whose object it was to recover the pocket-book, in
order to try the same game on a more satisfactory customer, was
irritated by Dick's refusal, and above all by the coolness he
displayed. He resolved to make one more attempt.

"Do you want to pass the night in the Tombs?" he asked.

"Thank you for your very obligin' proposal," said Dick; "but it aint
convenient to-day. Any other time, when you'd like to have me come
and stop with you, I'm agreeable; but my two youngest children is
down with the measles, and I expect I'll have to set up all night
to take care of 'em. Is the Tombs, in gineral, a pleasant place of
residence?"

Dick asked this question with an air of so much earnestness that
Frank could scarcely forbear laughing, though it is hardly necessary
to say that the dropper was by no means so inclined.

"You'll know sometime," he said, scowling.

"I'll make you a fair offer," said Dick. "If I get more'n fifty
dollars as a reward for my honesty, I'll divide with you. But I say,
aint it most time to go back to your sick family in Boston?"

Finding that nothing was to be made out of Dick, the man strode away
with a muttered curse.

"You were too smart for him, Dick," said Frank.

"Yes," said Dick, "I aint knocked round the city streets all my life
for nothin'."

CHAPTER VIII

DICK'S EARLY HISTORY

"Have you always lived in New York, Dick?" asked Frank, after
a pause.

"Ever since I can remember."

"I wish you'd tell me a little about yourself. Have you got
any father or mother?"

"I aint got no mother. She died when I wasn't but three years old.
My father went to sea; but he went off before mother died, and
nothin' was ever heard of him. I expect he got wrecked, or died
at sea."

"And what became of you when your mother died?"

"The folks she boarded with took care of me, but they was poor, and
they couldn't do much. When I was seven the woman died, and her
husband went out West, and then I had to scratch for myself."

"At seven years old!" exclaimed Frank, in amazement.

"Yes," said Dick, "I was a little feller to take care of myself,
but," he continued with par