"Aw, youse know what I means. Youse has run away from home an' ye're only chuckin' a bluff about bein' a newsboy. Now I want t' know where youse lives, so's I kin take youse home an' git der reward." "If I knew where I lived and who my folks were, I would only be too glad to tell you," answered Dick earnestly. "I would go home myself, without waiting for any one to take me." "None of dat. Dat's too thin!" exclaimed Bulldog. "Youse has got t' tell me or I'll punch yer head." "I can't tell you." "Well, den here goes fer a punch," and again the big boy raised his big fist. "I'll call a policeman," said Dick, who knew he was no match for the bully. "Go ahead. We lick cops down dis way. No perliceman ever comes in here when he hears a row. He knows it ain't healthy fer him, 'less he's got a patrol wagon full of cops wid him. Now, once ag'in, are youse goin' t' tell me what I want t' know?" "I can't!" exclaimed Dick, wishing he had Jimmy there to help him. "I would, really I would, if I could, but I can't remember anything, except that I got hit on the head and then I woke up in the box with Jimmy." "Yes, dat's de story youse tells, but I t'ink it's a fake. What I want is de real t'ing." "I am telling you the truth." "Well, I don't believe youse are." "You can ask the police at headquarters. I have been there and told them my story." "Yes; when youse catches me around police headquarters it'll be colder dan it is now." Bulldog grasped Dick by an arm and pulled him closer to him, while his heavy fist was ready to deal a cruel blow. Dick tried to shrink away, but he was held fast. He looked about the room for some way of escape or some weapon he might use on his captor. The apartment, as far as he could see in the dim light of a smoking oil lamp, was deserted. There was only one door, that by which they had entered, and Bulldog had locked that. Nor was there anything in the room, save a table and a few chairs. "Oh, youse can't git away from me," said Bulldog, guessing of what Dick was thinking. "Now, den, take dat!" and he dealt Dick a hard blow in the face. Instinctively the boy raised his arm to protect his head. "Oh, youse wants t' fight, eh?" inquired the bully, with a sneer, at the same time taking the attitude in which pugilists are usually depicted. "Well, I kin give youse all of dat yer wants; see!" Nothing was further from Dick's thought than to engage in a fight with the bully, but Bulldog interpreted matters his own way. All Dick cared about was to escape. Once more the coward hit him, and then Dick's natural courage arose. He would not submit tamely to being beaten, and, with a wild desire in his heart to hit back, his fist shot out.