"There's no returns. You can't take back what you don't sell, and we might lose on it." "Well, I suppose we'll have to take that risk. Business men generally have to venture something." "I know, but we ain't got much capital. If we was to lose a dollar in the week it wouldn't be no fun." "No; still I think it's worth trying." "Then I'll do it. I'll order a stock for this Friday, and we'll see what we can do." Jimmy was glad his chum had agreed to the scheme, which the older newsboy had had in mind for some time, ever since he saw how well some of his companions were doing with the new weekly, which was making quite a bid for trade. Accordingly, when Friday came, Jimmy got up early, and purchased one hundred copies of the periodical. These he divided with Dick, and the two boys, rather more heavily laden than usual, started out for their day's business. If Dick thought he was going to dispose of all his copies of the new weekly quickly, he was much disappointed. Down in the financial section he sold his usual number of daily papers, but, when it came to disposing of the other, he had no luck. "Why, I get that magazine at home every Friday morning," said one broker, the one for whom Dick had delivered the letter that day he nearly was arrested at the park fountain. "I subscribe for it." "Then you don't want two copies," spoke Dick cheerfully, though he began to have his doubts about Jimmy's new scheme. He found that nearly every person whom he asked to buy the weekly received it at his house, either through the mail, or from some boy who had a route in that vicinity. He did manage to sell a few copies, but not enough to pay for carrying the fifty around. "I don't believe you'll have much of a success with that," said a banker, who was one of Dick's steady customers. "The concern sent out an army of agents to get subscriptions by the year, before allowing boys to sell it on the streets, and persons down here haven't time to read a magazine like that during business hours. We get it at our homes." Before the day was over Dick began to believe this was true. He only managed to sell twelve copies out of the fifty he had taken out, and, as the sale of the magazine was practically over on the day of publication, he could see a financial loss staring him in the face. "That is, unless Jimmy managed to dispose of all of his," he thought. "Guess I'll quit now, and go up and see how he's making out." He found Jimmy on his corner, busily engaged in disposing of the evening papers, for his customers did not stop work as early as did those in the financial section. "How's the new weekly going, Jimmy?" asked 'Dick, when there came a lull in trade. "Rotten!" was Jimmy's characteristic answer. "It's a regular lemon, down here. It's on de blink. I sold ten copies, and I couldn't get rid of another one. So I stowed 'em away, and I got busy with me--I mean my--regular papers. No trouble to sell them. How'd you make out?"