These two were very much inclined to doubt his story until he showed the tops as proof, and even then they would have looked upon some portions of it as false had he not also produced the six cents, and with three of them stood treat all round to that sticky delicacy known as "pea-nut taffy." Then they believed all he had told them, and adjourning to a very broad door-step near by, they sat down to consult upon what it was best for him to do. To begin with, and in order that he might understand the case fully, one of the boys asked, as he struggled with the sticky dainty, "What's yer name?" "Paul Weston," replied the stranger. "Well, my name's Johnny Jones, though the boys call me Shiner," said the boy with the papers under his arm, "an' my chum here's named Ben Treat. Now you know us; an' we'll call you Polly, so's to make you feel more's if you was home." Paul was not just certain as to how far this nickname would go towards making him feel at home, but he did not venture to make any remark upon it, preferring rather that his own condition, and how he could better it, should be the subject under discussion. Johnny Jones told him at once that his idea of trying to get home by the cars without money enough in his pocket to buy his ticket was an impossibility; for he and Ben had tried riding on the cars without paying for it, even a short distance, and had always come to grief because of either the conductor or the brakemen, whom they looked upon as the natural enemies of boys. It was useless, therefore, to think of getting to Chicago in that way, and Johnny appealed to Ben to decide whether he was right or not. "It's jest as Shiner says," replied Ben, rubbing the end of his nose thoughtfully, as if he believed that gave him more of an air of wisdom. "You couldn't git as far as Newark in a week, 'less you walked, an' you'd better not try it." "But what shall I do?" asked Paul, in such distress that even the candy failed to soothe him. "I don't see but one way," said Johnny, gravely, as he took the lump of sweetness from his mouth, lest it should dissolve while he was not able to give it his undivided attention, and he thus lose a portion of the treat. "You'll have to stay here till yer earn money enough ter pay for a whole ticket." "But how much will that be?" asked Paul, astounded at the careless way with which the boy spoke of such an undertaking. "I dunno; but it'll be a good deal. We'll find out termorrer." Then Johnny turned his attention to the candy again. "But I can't earn any money;" and now Paul was on the verge of crying. "Of course yer can," replied Ben, decidedly. "Yer can sell papers like Shiner does, or yer can get a box, an' go inter the same bizness I'm in. Ef yer smart, yer'll git three or four dollars a week, 'cordin' to the weather." Paul opened his eyes wide with surprise as this enormous amount was spoken of, and he almost forgot his grief in the visions of wealth that floated through his brain.