Читать книгу Nelson The Newsboy - Stratemeyer Edward, Alger Horatio Jr., Thomas Chandler Haliburton - Страница 5

Len Snocks' eyes flashed dangerously when he confronted Nelson. For a long time he had had matters all his own way around the ferryhouse, and the only boys who were allowed to sell papers there besides himself were such as would toady to him and help him sell his over-supply when trade was dull with him. Often he made the lads pay him five or ten cents for selling papers there, when trade was extra lively.

Paul Randall had no father, and his mother being half blind and quite feeble, the lad felt that every cent he earned must be brought home. Consequently he refused to give Len anything, and this made the big newsboy come to the conclusion that Paul must be driven to seek sales elsewhere. In matters of business newsboys are often as scheming and unfair as are certain men in higher walks of life. Money is everything to them, and they will do almost anything to obtain it.

"Wot do yer mean by t'rowin' me down?" cried Len, as he doubled up his grimy fists, which had not seen soap or water for many a day.

"You know what I mean, Len Snocks," retorted Nelson. "Paul has as much right to sell papers here as you have."

"No, he haint!"

"I say he has, and he'll sell papers here, too, and you shan't stop him."

"Won't I?"

"If you try it, you'll run against me again, remember that."

"I've a good mind to give you a lickin' fer t'rowin' me down," blustered Len, but he made no effort to begin the chastisement.

"If you want to fight, I'm here now," answered Nelson calmly. He understood fully that Len was as much of a coward as he was of a bully.

Len looked around, to see if there was anybody at hand to give him assistance. But all the boys were small, and he felt they could not do much against Nelson, who was known to be strong.

"Yer want to make me lose me trade," he muttered. "I'll fight yer when de rush is over." And he moved toward the ferry entrance.

"All right, I'll be ready for you any time," called Nelson after him. "And, remember, leave Paul alone after this."

"Oh, Nelson, how good you are!" cried Paul impulsively. "I don't know what he wouldn't have done to me if you hadn't come up."

"If he tackles you again let me know, Paul."

"I will."

"How is your mother?"

"She isn't much better. She can just get around our rooms, and that's all."

"Can she see?"

"Not much. The landlord said she ought to go to the hospital and have her eyes operated on, but she doesn't want to go and leave me."

"But maybe it would be best for her, Paul."

"Well, I'm willing, Nelson. But how is it you aint selling papers to-day?" went on Paul curiously.

"I've sold out. What have you got left?" Our hero surveyed the stock. "Phew! Eighteen! That's a lot."

"Len kept chasing me, so I couldn't sell much," answered the little boy, with a look of concern on his pale face.

"Give me ten of them," said Nelson, and took that number. "Now you go over there and I'll stay around here. We ought to get rid of 'em between us."

"Good for you, Nelson!" cried Paul, and his face brightened.

Soon both were at it, crying their wares with the other boys. Len Snocks saw the move, and scowled more than ever, but did not dare to interfere. In half an hour the papers were all sold, and our hero turned the money over to Paul.

"You ought to have something for selling the ten," said the little fellow.

"Never mind; you keep the money, Paul. You'll need it, I know."

"Thank you."

"By the way, have you seen anything of Billy Darnley since yesterday noon?"

"I saw him about two hours ago."

"Here?"

"Yes, he came off the boat from Brooklyn."

"I'm sorry I missed him. Do you know where he went?"

"Went to get some papers, I think. He stopped to talk to Len Snocks for a few minutes."

"Humph! Did he give Len anything?"

"I think he gave him a quarter."

"I'm sorry I missed him. He stole five dollars from me yesterday—nearly all I had saved up."

"Oh, Nelson! He ought to be arrested."

"It wouldn't do any good. The police wouldn't believe me, and I haven't any witnesses, excepting a young lady I don't know."

Len Snocks was leaving the vicinity, and now Nelson hastened after him. Soon he ranged up beside the big newsboy.

"Len, I want to ask you a question."

"Wot do you want now?" growled Len.

"Where did Billy Darnley go after he came off the ferry?"

At this question a crafty look came into Len Snocks' eyes.

"Find out fer yerself—I haint answerin' questions," he growled.

"Billy stole some of my money yesterday."

"Dat aint none o' my affair, is it?"

"I suppose not. But he gave some of it to you?"

"Didn't give me a cent."

"He was seen to give you money."

"Ha! has dat Paul Randall been a-blabbin'?" cried Len savagely. "I'll fix him, if he has!"

"You let Paul alone, or it will be the worse for you. Then you won't tell me where Billy went?"

"I don't know. He didn't tell me nuthin'."

Len Snocks would say no more, and satisfied that it would be time lost to question him further. Nelson hurried on and made his way back to the lunch-room.

He was somewhat late, and as soon as he entered Sam Pepper began to storm at him. The man was in a worse humor than ever, and lashed our hero with his tongue every time he entered the kitchen.

"Here I am a-breaking my back to make a living, and everything going wrong!" he muttered. "You ought to have been here an hour ago. I wanted some more meat from the butcher shop and two dozen more of pies. I think I'll shut up the place at the end of the week. An honest man can't git along, no matter how hard he tries. Now look out, or you'll smash those plates and glasses, and that'll be more money out of my pocket. Hang the lunch business, anyway!"

But his troubles were not yet at an end. In his ill humor he served a customer with a steak that was both tough and half burnt. The customer refused to pay for the meat, and a quarrel ensued which ended in a fight. Two tables were overturned and the crockery smashed before the troublesome customer was ejected, and, in the meantime, several other customers slipped out without paying.

"It's no use, Nelson; I'm going to give it up," growled Sam Pepper, when it was after two o'clock, and the run of midday trade had come to an end. "There are easier ways to make a living than by running a lunch-room."

"Last night you spoke about a good game to make you rich," answered Nelson curiously, "What did you mean by that?"

"When did I say that?"

"When you came in and went to bed."

"I don't remember it."

"Well, you said it, and you said something about getting me to help you."

"Did I say anything else?" asked Pepper in some alarm.

"No."

The man drew a breath of relief.

"I must have been a bit off in my head, Nelson. You see I met some old friends, and they treated to champagne—and I'm not used to that any more. They make an easy living, they do."

"Perhaps they can help you to something better."

"They won't have to help me—if I've a mind to work as they work."

"What do they do?"

"Oh, they work on the principle that the world owes them a living, and they are bound to have it."

"Of course they don't beg?"

At this Sam Pepper burst into a loud laugh.

"You're not so green as all that, Nelson."

"Well, what do they do then?" persisted the boy.

"Oh, a number of things! One runs a mail-order business. He is advertising two things just now. One is a steel engraving of Washington, indorsed by the government as a true picture of the first President, mounted on cardboard, all ready for framing, for fifty cents, and the other is a complete sewing machine for one dollar."

"How can he sell a sewing machine for a dollar?"

"When some fool sends on a dollar for the machine he sends him a needle, and when another fool sends fifty cents for the steel engraving he sends him a postage stamp picture of Washington stuck on a bit of cardboard."

"Oh!"

"He's smart, and the law can't get hold of him," went on Sam Pepper. "Another of the men is selling tips on the races. If his customer wins he gets a percentage. He gets one fool to bet one way and another fool to bet the other way, and no matter which wins he gets his share of the prize."

"I should think he would have a job, looking for fools," said the newsboy. "Folks ought to know better."

"The world is full of people who want to get something for nothing, and these men know it. But they don't make much of a pile. That's got to be made in another way."

"What way?"

"There are lots of ways, Nelson; some good and some bad. Ever been down in Wall Street?"

"Yes, but I don't know anything of the business there."

"Folks down there gamble in stocks and bonds, and such like. Sometimes they squeeze a poor man out of everything he's got, but they do it so as the law can't touch 'em—and there's where they have the advantage over an East Side gambler, who runs the risk of being arrested if his victim squeals. But Wall Street aint any better than the East Side, for all that."

"Some nice gentlemen in Wall Street, though," said Nelson reflectively.

"A high hat don't make an honest man, Nelson; you ought to know that by this time. They are all thieves and swindlers, and an honest man has no show against 'em. If you want to be rich, you've got to be like 'em!" went on Sam Pepper, bringing his fist down on the table at which he sat. "You can't make anything bein' honest."

To this the newsboy remained silent. He had heard such talk before, so he was not as much shocked as he might otherwise have been.

"I guess I'll go out and sell some evening papers," he said, after a pause, during which Sam Pepper seemed to sink into deep thought.

"No, I don't want you to go out; I want to have a talk with you," answered Pepper. "There won't be no business for an hour or two, and I'll lock the door, so nobody can interrupt us. It's got to come sooner or later, and it might as well come now."