"He never told me. Maybe it's Grey, like mine. Some call him my grandfather, but he isn't." "It is he," thought the stranger; "but things are well as they are. He knows nothing, and need know nothing. I am safe enough, since between us there is a great gulf of ignorance, and more than a thousand miles of space." "Well, my boy," he said, aloud, "I suppose you want to be paid?" "That's what's the matter," answered Tom. The stranger put in his hand a half dollar, and Tom, plunging his hand in his pocket, prepared to give change. "Never mind," said his late customer, with a wave of his hand. "Thanks," said Tom, and he mentally wished he might be as well paid every day for answering questions. Tom shouldered his box, and walked a few steps down Broadway. It was some time before another customer appeared, and meanwhile another bootblack came up. The name of the newcomer was Pat Walsh. He enjoyed a bad reputation among his comrades--as one who would take a mean advantage, if he dared, and was at all times ready to bully a smaller boy. He had long cherished an ill feeling toward Tom, because the latter had interfered, on one occasion, to protect a smaller boy whom Pat tried to cheat out of a job. As Tom's prowess was well known, Pat had contented himself hitherto with uttering threats which he hesitated to carry into execution. It was shrewdly suspected by his companions that he was afraid to contend with Tom, and they had taunted him with it. Finding his authority diminishing, Pat decided to force a quarrel upon Tom at the first opportunity. He had no great appetite for the fight, but felt it to be a disagreeable necessity. Just as he came up a gentleman approached with a valise in his hand. His boots were decidedly dirty, and he was hailed as a prize by the bootblacks. "Shine yer boots?" exclaimed Tom and Pat, simultaneously. "I don't know but they need brushing," said the traveler. Instantly both bootblacks were on their knees before him, ready to proceed to business. "I don't need both of you," he said, smiling. "Take me," said Pat; "I'll give you a bully shine." "I'll give you the bulliest," said Tom, good humoredly. "I spoke first." "Lave wid yer, or I'll mash yer!" said Pat. "Better not try it," said Tom, not in the least intimidated. "The gentleman will choose between us." "I'll choose you," said the traveler, decidedly more prepossessed by Tom's appearance than by that of his competitor. There was no appeal from this decision, and Pat rose to his feet, his face wearing a very ugly scowl. He remained standing near, while Tom was engaged with his job, watching him with an aspect which betokened mischief. "Thank you, sir," said Tom, as he received pay for his services. The customer had no sooner left the spot than Pat strode up to Tom. "I want that money," he said, menacingly.