The first day was not a success, chiefly on account of his inexperience. He was “stuck” on nearly half his papers, and the profits were less than nothing. But Herbert was quick to learn. The second day, though he still had some papers left, he cleared twenty-five cents. The third day he netted seventy-five. He felt now that he had passed the period of experiment, and that he would at any rate, be able to pay his board. Of course, he hoped for something better, and indeed felt confident of it.

Three weeks later, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, as he stood in front of the Astor House, with his last paper in his hand, he heard his name called:

“Hello, Carter; are you here?”

He did not need to turn around to recognize James Leech¹.

“Good-morning, James,” he said, politely.

“So you're a newsboy,” said James.

“Yes; any way to make a living.”

“Do you make much?” inquired his old foe², curiously³.

“I haven't made enough to retire upon yet; but I can manage to pay my board.”

“How much do you pay for your board?”

Herbert hesitated about gratifying his curiosity, but finally did so.

“Four dollars,” repeated James, scornfully. “It can't be much of a boarding house.”

“An Italian count boards there,” said Herbert, knowing James' respect for rank.

“You don't say so!” returned James, rather impressed. “Did he ever speak to you?”

“He spoke⁵ to me this morning.”

“What did he say?”

“'Will you pass ze butter?'”

“Do you save up any money?” inquired James.

Herbert penetrated⁶ his motive⁷ in asking the question, and did not mean to give too definite information. But James was

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