During the days that followed the two partners devoted themselves harder than ever to the business of selling papers. They did well, too, for Jimmy had much improved in his methods and had attracted a number of new customers, who regularly bought their papers from him. Dick, also, had increased his trade and was becoming well known in the financial district as "the polite newsboy." While at first there had been, on the part of other lads selling papers, a disposition to annoy Dick, they now let him alone. One reason for this was a quiet word spoken to the policeman in that district by one or two brokers, who had taken a liking to Dick, and who understood the opposition to him. After that the officer kept his eyes open and, having threatened to arrest several lads who annoyed the newcomer, there was no more trouble. Meanwhile Dick was no nearer than ever a solution of the mystery that surrounded him. He hoped nothing now from the police, and, as for seeing some notice in the papers describing a missing boy like himself, he had long ago given that up. The two partners continued to live in their room at the lodging-house, and they were slowly accumulating a nice little balance in the bank. But it grew slowly, too slowly to give them hope that they would reach the figure demanded by the news-stand owner in time to buy him out. They heard, incidentally, that several of the bigger newsboys were thinking of consolidating and purchasing the place, and Jimmy suggested that he and Dick take Frank into partnership, but when the matter was explained to him, Frank, while grateful for the offer, said he could not afford to go into the scheme. He had some money saved up, but he said he had to help support a widowed aunt, a sister of his dead mother, and, as she would soon have to undergo an operation in the institution where she was, he was saving his money to help pay for it, as the old lady was destitute. So that practically shattered the hopes of the two partners of owning the stand. Nor could they find one any cheaper that would suit their purpose. "Never mind," said Dick. "We'll be ready to buy one next year." But if Dick had ceased, save at odd times, to make some effort at discovering his identity, this was not true of two other persons. These were Bulldog Smouder and Mike Conroy. The two plotters had not forgotten their plan. "Say, Bulldog," said Mike, one night not long after Dick's and Jimmy's attempt to buy the stand, "ain't dere nuttin' doin' in gittin' de reward fer dat kid?" "Sure dere is." "What?" "Well, I've got me plans all made." "'Bout time youse said somethin'. Did de detective know anyt'ing?" "Not a t'ing. Dere ain't been no reward offered." "Den what's de good of bodderin' wid it?"