"Perhaps you'll--I mean--wouldn't you like to go with me and have some breakfast?" proposed Dick. "I'm a stranger here. By the way, what city am I in?" "Say, does youse mean dat?" "Mean what?" "Don't youse know ye're in N'York?" "New York? Is this New York? No, I had no idea where I was." "Well, if dis ain't de limit!" exclaimed Jimmy. "It's gittin' wuss instead of better, Dick Box." "What is?" "Dis mystery about youse. Say, honest, youse ain't kiddin' me, is ye?" "Kidding you? You mean fooling you? Of course not! All I know is that I started away from some place--I can't just remember where--and the next thing I knew I was in the box." "Well, I guess it's straight goods," admitted Jimmy, with a sigh, "but it sure is a queer go. Youse must have come from some swell joint, den." "What makes you think so?" "Why, yer clothes is all to de good. Ye're right in de latest style. Didn't nobody kidnap youse, did dey?" "Not that I know of." Dick passed his hand over his head with a bewildered air. It was close in the box, and, now that the sun was up, was getting quite warm. "Come on; let's git outer here, an' den we kin talk better," proposed the newsboy. He peered out, and, seeing that the coast was clear, he crawled out of the box, followed by Dick. "I guess we kin take a little scrub in me bathroom, an' den we'll git somethin' t' eat," proposed the street lad, as he led the way to the faucet over the horse-trough. Fortunately the watchman was inside the factory turning on the fires ready for the men who would soon arrive. Jimmy gave himself a vigorous wash, and then said to Dick: "Now it's your turn." Dick appeared to hesitate. "What's de matter?" asked Jimmy. "It ain't very cold. De cook fergot t' make de fire in de range last night, an' dere ain't no hot water. I'll bounce her if she does it ag'in." "Why, there isn't any--any towel," said Dick. "Towel? Well, I guess nixy. Pocket hankcheff's good 'nuff fer me. If ye ain't got none ye kin take mine. It's pretty clean." "No, thank you, I have a handkerchief." In spite of the fact that Dick had evidently been used to certain luxuries, he made the best of the improvised bathroom. He washed his face and hands, drying them on a handkerchief of fine quality, at the sight of which Jimmy's eyes opened wider than ever. "He sure is some rich guy," he said to himself. "Dere's somethin' queer about dis. But I'll git t' de bottom of it, er me name ain't Jimmy Small." "Where's yer hat?" asked Jimmy of Dick when the washing operations were over. "That's so. I must have had one." "Maybe it's back in de box. I'll go look." He came back in a few seconds with a soft hat and placed it on Dick's head. As he did so he uttered a cry of astonishment. "What's the matter?" asked Dick. "Say, no wonder yer mind went back on youse. Dere's a lump as big as a baseball on de back of yer cocoanut. Dat's what made youse fergit yer name, I guess."