"Suppose I don't?" asked Dick, who was not afraid, even if Bulldog was the larger. "Well, you'll see. Who are youse, anyhow? Comin' t' N'York an' buttin' in here where youse ain't wanted. Why don't youse go back home?" "I would if I knew where my home was," spoke Dick quietly, for he made no secret of his queer plight. "Say, kid, honest, don't youse remember anyt'ing about yerself?" asked Bulldog with a sudden assumption of friendliness, for he happened to remember the conversation he and Mike Conroy had had concerning Dick, and he thought this a good chance to further the plot which the two had made. "I can remember very little about what happened before I met Jimmy Small." "Don't youse know what kind of a place youse lived in?" "I haven't the least idea." "An' can't youse remember yer own name?" "Only the first part of it." "Well, dat's a queer go! Would youse like t' git back home, kid?" "Indeed I would. Why, do you know anything about me? My mind seems in a daze whenever I try to think about it. If you know anything, please tell me." "Naw, I don't know nuttin'. Say, youse didn't run away, did youse? Youse ain't comin' no game like dat, is yer?" "No, certainly not," replied Dick, his face flushing at the insinuation. "Well, dat's queer," murmured Bulldog as he turned away. Then he started suddenly as he saw coming toward him a man whom he knew. It was a detective from police headquarters, and Bulldog had frequently given the man information about petty thieves. "Say," said Bulldog in a low tone to the detective as the latter reached him, "I want t' ask youse a few questions. Come in here," and he motioned to a hallway. The detective, who was inclined to be friendly with the newsboy, thinking he might have some future use for him, complied, and soon the two were in conversation. CHAPTER XIV JIMMY'S FURTHER PROGRESS Meanwhile Dick, all unconscious of the plot being woven about him, continued to sell his papers. When he was out he went to the delivery wagon and got more, and he remained in the financial district until three o'clock, when, as that marks the close of the day's business, there was not much chance to sell any more papers. Then he went up to report to Jimmy and help him dispose of his stock by circulating around City Hall Park and the streets leading to the ferries. "Well, dis ain't so bad," remarked Jimmy as they went to supper that evening, calculating on the way how much they had taken in. "No, indeed," said his partner. "If this keeps on we can soon start a regular stand." "Crimps! Dat would be fine! But I guess we'll have t' have more money saved up. All de good places is taken, and we'd have t' buy somebody out." "Oh, yes, we'll have to have more money," agreed Dick. "But if all goes well we can put another dollar in the bank this week." "Dat's de stuff. Crimps! but I'm hungry! Guess I'll have a----" Jimmy stopped suddenly as he put his hand in his pocket.