“I—I was thinking of going into the mercantile way,” answered Robert, blushing crimson; “an errand-boy, or something of that sort.” “Know how to read?” “Oh, yes!” “Fine print, and all?” “Yes, all kinds of print.” “You don’t say so. Next thing you’ll be telling me that you can write.” “Write? Of course I can! Don’t I look old enough?” “Old enough? Why I’m twice your size.” “And can’t write?” inquired Robert. “Not a pot-hook; tried once, but broke down on the z’s—couldn’t curl ’em up to save my life; but I can count, and read headings—and that’s enough for the business. But you’re bound to be a gentleman, anybody can see that; sich an edecation isn’t to be flung away on the street. What if I know the place what would suit you?” “No, you don’t say that?” cried Robert, beaming with hope. “But I do, though. Gould & Co. wants a boy. I’ve got acquainted with the old gentleman within the last few days. He buys lots of papers—every extra. Anxious about somebody, I reckon. The other day he came after me full chisel, with his hat off, and the wind whistling through his gray hair like sixty. The way he snatched at my papers and pitched a dollar bill, into my hand, was exciting. Wouldn’t stop for the change—a thing I never knew of him in my whole life—but hurried back, and shut the door of his great, dark house with a bang.” “Poor man!” said Robert, mournfully; “perhaps he had a son, or some one, in the army, that he loved.” “Just as likely as not,” continued the newsboy, “for, as I was going round the block a second time, he came out of his house looking as white as a ghost. I saw his face plain by the street lamp; and he went off almost upon a run, like a crazy man. Something had struck him right on the heart, I’m sure of that. But come along, if you have a mind to try your luck with the old feller. I’ll trust this little shaver with my papers till we come back.” CHAPTER IX. THE NEWSBOY. Little Joseph received the bundle of newspapers offered to him, flushing crimson under the trust—and the two lads went off together. “Don’t go off the block,” said the newsboy, looking over his shoulder. “Walk up and down, and who knows but a little business may drop in.” Joseph nodded, smiled, and settled the bundle of papers under his arm; at which the boy gave an encouraging flourish of the hand, and disappeared around the corner; while Robert paused a moment, and sent more than one anxious glance back upon his brother. Joseph waited till they were both out of sight, then gathered up his courage and began marching up and down the side-walk with a bold step, but stopped still, and turned his eyes away in dread if any one approached him. Once or twice he attempted to cry out, but that was when no one was within hearing. Even then the voice fell back in his throat, and he looked around half frightened to death, terrified lest some customer should come upon him suddenly.