"Do you?" returned Tom, coolly, as he thrust it into his vest pocket, for, unlike the majority of his companions, he indulged in the luxury of a vest. "Yes, I do. It was my job." "I don't see it." "I spoke first." "The gentleman chose me." "You stuck yourself in where you wasn't wanted. Give me the money." "Come and take it," said Tom, unconsciously making the same answer that was once returned by a heroic general to an insolent demand for surrender. "I'll do it, then," said Pat, who had been nursing his rage till he was grown reckless of consequences. He threw down his box and sprang at Tom. The latter also quickly rid himself of the incumbrance, and the two were soon wrestling at close quarters. Pat, by his impetuous onset, came near upsetting his adversary; but, by an effort, Tom saved himself. Then commenced a determined contest. Both boys were unusually strong for their ages, and were, in fact, very evenly matched. But at length Tom, by an adroit movement of the foot, tripped his opponent, and came down on top of him. He did not hold him down, for he was fond of fair play, but rose immediately. "You didn't do it; I slipped," said Pat, in anger and mortification, and he instantly threw himself upon Tom again. But our hero kept cool, while Pat was excited, and this placed him at an advantage. So the second contest terminated like the first. Cheers from a crowd of boys greeted this second victory--cheers to which Pat listened with mortification and rage. He was half tempted to renew the battle, but a cry from the boys, "A cop! a cop!" warned him of the approach of his natural enemy, the policeman, and he walked sullenly away, breathing threats of future vengeance, to which Tom paid very little attention. Five minutes later little Mike Flanagan came up, and pulled Tom by the arm. "What's the matter, Mike?" asked Tom, seeing that the little boy looked excited. "Your grandfather's been run over wid a horse," said the little boy, not very intelligibly. "Run over!" exclaimed Tom. "How can that be, when he was at home on the bed?" "He went out soon after you, and was beggin' on Broadway." "Where is he now?" asked Tom, quickly. "He was took to the hospital," said Mike. CHAPTER IV. AT THE HOSPITAL. On a neat bed, at the Bellevue Hospital, old Jacob was stretched out. He had been in considerable pain, but opiates had been administered, and he was in an uneasy slumber. Tom presented himself at the office below as soon as he could after hearing of the accident. "Is he much hurt? Is he in danger?" he asked, anxiously, for Jacob was nearer to him than any one else. "He is now sleeping, and must not be disturbed. Come tomorrow, and we can tell you more," was the reply. "You can tell me if he was much hurt." "One leg is broken, but we cannot yet tell whether he has received any internal injury. All depends upon that." Tom presented himself the next day. This time the physician looked grave.