"I am glad you think so, but you must have had to draw some of our savings out of the bank for medicine and things, and I want to put it back so we can purchase that stand before Christmas, if possible." "Oh, Christmas is quite a ways off. Besides, I only used about five dollars from the bank. Business has been very good lately, even with paying Frank and Sam a commission." Since Dick's illness Jimmy had developed quite a business talent, and as he could now read and write some, he attended to matters connected with their little bank account, putting some in and at times drawing a dollar or so out, as it was needed. Though Jimmy insisted that Dick take a rest before beginning to sell papers, the latter would not hear of it. The next day he started out with his bundle as usual, glad to be back at business once more. He was welcomed by many of his former customers, who remembered him, and he sold a large number of papers. "How do you feel?" asked Jimmy that night when the partners were in their room. "Pretty good, only a little tired. My, what a lot has happened since that night I thought you were hurt!" "I should say so. Mike and Bulldog will not bother us for quite a while, I guess," and this proved a correct surmise, for some time later, at the trial, they were both convicted and sent to a reform school for long terms. Jimmy never recovered the money which Mike stole from him at the moving picture show nor that taken in Brooklyn. "Yes, lots of things happened," went on Dick, "only I wish a little more had." "What do you mean?" "I mean I wish I knew who I was." Jimmy said nothing. He did not like to see Dick sad, but he did not know how to help him in this matter. Would the mystery never be solved? CHAPTER XXIV MR. CROSSCRAB'S VISIT Business with the partners went on as usual for several days. There was a brisk demand for papers, and slowly they saw the little savings in the bank grow. They began to have visions of a fine stand by Christmas, and the one they had first considered was still in their mind, for the owner had not succeeded in disposing of it. "Dick," remarked Jimmy one night, "I've got a new scheme." "What is it?" and Dick looked up from the book he was reading at his partner on the other side of the table. Jimmy was laboriously figuring on the back of an old envelope. "Well, you know that weekly illustrated paper that's making such a hit now? It comes out every Friday, an' lots of the boys sell it." "Yes, I know the one you mean. What about it?" "I was thinking we might add it to our stock. If we did, and sold enough of 'em, we could make quite a bit. There's two and a half cents profit on each copy, and if we sold fifty each that'd be two dollars and a half each week." "Good! You're coming on with your arithmetic," exclaimed Dick. "Why, that sounds good, Jimmy. Let's do it." "There's one thing agin it, though." "What's that?"