Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant

“That don’t go down,” said Mike, indignantly; “it’s nearer a hundred.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s only sixty. You’ve got the fifty cents, and I’ll give you ten more.”

“You must give me the whole sixty, then,” said Mike, changing his ground. “I drawed the fifty as a prize.”

Teddy was struck with astonishment at the impudence of this assumption.

“It wasn’t no prize,” he said.

“Yes, it was,” said Mike. “You said so yourself. Didn’t he, Jim?”

Jim, who was also a confederate, but had agreed to accept twenty-five cents in full for services rendered, promptly answered:

“Shure, Mike’s right. It was a prize he drew.”

“You want to chate me!” said Teddy, angrily.

“What have you been doin’ all the mornin’?” demanded Mike. “You’re the chap to talk about chatin’, ain’t you?”

“I’ll give you twenty-five cents,” said Teddy, “and that’s all I will give you.”

“Then you’ve got to fight,” said Mike, squaring off.

“Yes, you’ve got to fight!” chimed in Jim, who thought he saw a chance for more money.

Teddy looked at his two enemies, each of whom was probably more than a match for himself, and was not long in deciding that his best course was to avoid a fight by running. Accordingly, he tucked all the money into his pocket, and, turning incontinently, fled down Liberty street, closely pursued by his late confederates. Paul came up just in time to hear the termination of the dispute and watch the flight of his late business rival.

“I guess Teddy won’t go into the business again,” he reflected. “I may as well take my old stand.”

Accordingly he once more installed himself on the post office steps, and began to cry, “Prize packages. Only five cents!”

Having no competitor now to interfere with his trade, he met with fair success, and by four o’clock was able to start for home with his empty basket, having disposed of all his stock in trade.

His profits, though not so great as the day before, amounted to a dollar.

“If I could only make a dollar every day,” thought Paul, “I would be satisfied.”

CHAPTER V

PAUL LOSES HIS BASKET

Paul continued in the prize-package business for three weeks. His success varied, but he never made less than seventy-five cents a day, and sometimes as much as a dollar and a quarter. He was not without competitors. More than once, on reaching his accustomed stand, he found a rival occupying it before him. In such cases he quietly passed on, and set up his business elsewhere, preferring to monopolize the trade, though the location might not be so good.

Teddy O’Brien did not again enter the field. We left him, at the end of the last chapter, trying to escape from Mike and Jim, who demanded a larger sum than he was willing to pay for their services. He succeeded in escaping with his money, but the next day the two confederates caught him, and Teddy received a black eye as a receipt in full of all demands. So, on the whole, he decided that some other business would suit him better, and resumed the blacking-box, which he had abandoned on embarking in commercial pursuits.

Mike Donovan and Jim Parker were two notoriously bad boys, preferring to make a living in any other way than by honest industry. As some of these ways were not regarded as honest in the sight of the law, each had more than once been sentenced to a term at Blackwell’s Island. They made a proposition to Paul to act as decoy ducks for him in the same way as for Teddy. He liked neither of the boys, and did not care to be associated with them. This refusal Mike and Jim resented, and determined to “pay off” Paul if they ever got a chance. Our hero from time to time saw them hovering about him, but took very little notice of them.

He knew that he was a match for either, though Mike exceeded him in size, and he felt quite capable of taking care of himself.

One day Mike and Jim, whose kindred tastes led them to keep company, met at the corner of Liberty and William streets. Mike looked unusually dilapidated. He had had a scuffle the day before with another boy, and his clothes, always well ventilated, got torn in several extra places. As it was very uncertain when he would be in a financial condition to provide himself with another suit, the prospect was rather alarming. Jim Parker looked a shade more respectable in attire, but his face and hands were streaked with blacking. To this, however, Jim had become so accustomed that he would probably have felt uncomfortable with a clean face.

“How are you off for stamps, Jim?” asked Mike.

“Dead broke,” was the reply.

“So am I. I ain’t had no breakfast.”

“Nor I ‘cept an apple. Couldn’t I eat, though?”

“Suppose we borrow a quarter of Paul Hoffman.”

“He wouldn’t lend a feller.”

“Not if he knowed it,” said Mike, significantly.

“What do you mean, Mike?” asked Jim, with some curiosity.

“We’ll borrow without leave.”

“How’ll we do it?”

“I’ll tell you,” said Mike.

He proceeded to unfold his plan, which was briefly this. The two were to saunter up to where Paul was standing; and remain until the group, if there were any around him should be dispersed. Then one was to pull his hat over his eyes, while the other would snatch the basket containing his prize packages, and run down Liberty street, never stopping until he landed in a certain alley known to both boys. The other would run in a different direction, and both would meet as soon as practicable for the division of the spoils. It was yet so early that Paul could not have sold many from his stock. As each contained a prize, varying from one penny to ten, they would probably realize enough to buy a good breakfast, besides the candy contained in the packages. More money might be obtained by selling packages, but there was risk in this. Besides, it would take time, and they decided that a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush.

“That’s a good idea,” said Jim, approvingly. “Who’ll knock his hat over his head?”

“You can,” said Mike, “and I’ll grab the basket.” But to this Jim demurred, for two reasons: first, he was rather afraid of Paul, whose strength of arm he had tested on a previous occasion; and, again, he was afraid that if Mike got off with the basket he would appropriate the lion’s share.

“I’ll grab the basket,” he said.

“What for?” said Mike, suspiciously, for he, too, felt some distrust of his confederate.

“You’re stronger’n I am, Mike,” said Jim. “Maybe he’d turn on me, and I can’t fight him as well as you.”

“That’s so,” said Mike, who had rather a high idea of his own prowess, and felt pleased with the compliment. “I’m a match for him.”

“Of course you be,” said Jim, artfully, “and he knows it.”

“Of course he does,” said Mike, boastfully. “I can lick him with one hand.”

Jim had serious doubts of this, but he had his reasons for concurring in Mike’s estimate of his own powers.

“We’d better start now,” said Jim. “I’m awful hungry.”

“Come along, then.”

They walked up Liberty street, as far as Nassau. On reaching the corner they saw their unconscious victim at his usual place. It was rather a public place for an assault, and both boys would have hesitated had they not been incited by a double motive—the desire of gain and a feeling of hostility.