Willie was fairly at his wit’s end when somebody bumped into him. He wheeled about to see who had shoved him. It was a ragged newsy. “Sun! Woild! Joinal!” shrieked the lad, paying no attention to Willie. For a moment Willie stood looking at the ragamuffin. Then he sprang after him and touched him on the shoulder. “Give you a dollar for your coat and papers, and trade you caps,” said Willie, briefly. The newsy looked at him in astonishment. “What’s your game, pardner?” he asked. “Never mind,” said Willie with a smile. “I’ve got use for just such a cap and coat. If I can get them from you, it will save me a trip to Baxter Street.” And Willie held out the crisp dollar bill Sheridan had given him. “I guess you’re a wise guy all right,” commented the newsy. “It’s a go.” He gave Willie his few papers. Then he shoved the dollar bill into his trousers’ pocket, peeled off his coat, and handed it to Willie. An exchange of caps followed. “Much obliged to you,” said Willie. “Hope they help you,” said the newsy. “Wish I knowed what your game is anyway. Me for Sheeny Ike’s now. I kin get a new coat and my supper and a night’s lodgin’ out o’ this dollar. So long.” Willie smiled good-bye. When the newsy turned away, he darted around the corner and bolted into the first vacant hallway he came to. The lad that emerged from that hallway a moment later bore little resemblance to the boy who had entered it. The ragged old coat that Willie had obtained was many sizes too large for him, even as it had been for the newsy, and it effectually concealed Willie’s own coat. His neat, well-creased trousers looked strangely at variance with the coat, but Willie remedied that in a moment. Some ash cans stood by the curb. It took very little of the ashes to spoil the good appearance of both his trousers and his shoes. It came hard to Willie to soil his clothes this way, even though he knew the dust would brush out; for these were the best clothes he owned. A few smears of dirt on his face, and the old, torn cap completed the change so effectively that Willie would hardly have known himself could he have looked in a mirror. As for selling papers, that was nothing new at all for Willie. He had sold papers for years at home, when he was a bit younger. Satisfied that his appearance was right for the business in hand, Willie promptly entered the house. It proved to be just what Willie suspected—a saloon; though it was run under the guise of a coffee-house. Willie was satisfied of that the moment he entered the door.