Nelson The Newsboy

"How goes it, George?" asked the boy.

"Nothing to brag about," returned Van Pelt. "How goes it with you?"

"I am doing very well. Made ten dollars and fifteen cents last week."

"Phew! That's more than I made."

"How much did you make?"

"Eight dollars. I wish we could buy out that news stand. I am sick of tramping around trying to sell books," went on George Van Pelt. "Last week I was over in Jersey City, and one woman set her dog on me."

"I hope you didn't get bit," said Nelson with a laugh.

"No, but the dog kept a sample of my pants."

"Have you heard anything more of the stand?"

"The owner says he's going to sell out sure by next week. He told me he would take ninety dollars cash. He's going away and don't want a mortgage now."

"Ninety dollars. How much have you got?"

"I can scrape up forty dollars on a pinch."

"I've got fifteen dollars."

"That makes fifty-five dollars. We'll want thirty-five more. How can we get that amount?"

"I reckon we can save it up—inside of a few weeks, if we both work hard."

"The man won't wait. There's a party will give him seventy-five dollars cash right away. He's going to take that if he can't get ninety."

At that moment Nelson caught sight of the familiar figure of a stout gentleman crossing the street toward him, and ran out to meet the party.

"Good-morning, sir!" he said. "Have some papers this morning?"

"Hullo! you're the boy that saved me from being run over a few weeks ago," returned the stout gentleman.

"Yes, sir."

"I'll have a Sun and a Journal, and you can give me a Times, too. How is business?"

"Good, sir."

"I was in a hurry that day, or I would have stopped to reward you," went on the gentleman.

"You did reward me, sir."

"Did I? I had forgotten. You see, that fire in Harlem was in a house of mine. I was terribly upset. But the matter is all straightened out now."

"I hope you didn't lose much."

"No, the loss went to the insurance companies." The stout gentleman paused. "My lad, I would like to do something for you," he went on seriously.

"Have you got a job for me?"

"I don't know as I have, just now. But if you need help–"

"I do need help, sir. Are you a capitalist?"

"A capitalist?" queried the man, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean one of those gentlemen that loan money out on business? I've heard of 'em, down in Wall Street."

"Well, I sometimes loan money out."

"Then I'd like to borrow thirty-five dollars." Nelson beckoned to George Van Pelt, who had moved off a short distance. "You see, it's this way," he went on, and then told about the news stand that was for sale, and what he and the book agent wished to do.

Mr. Amos Barrow, for such was the gentleman's name, listened attentively.

"And you think this would be a good investment?" he questioned.

"Yes, it's a good stand," said Van Pelt.

"But you ought to have some money with which to stock up."

"We'll work hard and build it up," said our hero. "I know that neighborhood well. Old Maxwell never 'tended to business. I'll go around and get twice as large a paper route as he ever had. And we can keep plenty of ten-cent paper-covered books, and all that."

"And we can keep things for school children, too," put in George Van Pelt. "There is a school near by, and many of the children pass the stand four times a day."

"Well, I'll give you fifty dollars, Nelson," said Mr. Barrow. "That will help you to buy the stand and give you fifteen dollars working capital."

"You can't give me the money, sir. But you can loan it to me."

"But why won't you let me give it to you?" laughed the stout gentleman. "Isn't my life worth that?"

"It isn't that, sir. I want to do this in a regular business fashion."

"All right; have your own way, my lad."

"We'll give you a mortgage on the stand," said George Van Pelt.

"Never mind the mortgage. I believe I can read faces, and I'll take the boy's word," answered Mr. Barrow.

Hauling out a fat pocketbook, he counted out five new ten-dollar bills and passed them over to our hero.

"There you are," he said. "I would rather you would keep them. But if not, you can pay the amount back whenever it is convenient." And he passed over his business card. A few minutes later he hurried on.

"He's a brick!" was George Van Pelt's comment. "Now we can buy the stand."