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Paul,” said the little boy, almost choking with mirth.

      “I see how it is,” said Paul, with feigned resentment. “You’re jealous of me because you can’t draw as well.”

      “Oh, Paul, you’ll kill me!” and Jimmy again burst into a fit of merriment. “Can’t you really draw any better?”

      “No, Jimmy,” said Paul, joining in the laugh. “I can’t draw any better than an old cow. You’ve got all the talent in the family in that line.”

      “But you’re smart in other ways, Paul,” said Jimmy, who had a great admiration of Paul, notwithstanding the discovery of his artistic inferiority.

      “I’m glad there’s one that thinks so, Jimmy,” said Paul. “I’ll refer to you when I want a recommendation.”

      Jimmy resumed his drawing, and was proud of the praises which Paul freely bestowed upon him.

      “I’ll get you a harder drawing book when you’ve got through with these,” said Paul; “that is, if I don’t get reduced to poverty by having my stock in trade stolen again.”

      After a while came dinner. This meal in Mrs. Hoffman’s household usually came at twelve o’clock. It was a plain, frugal meal always, but on Sunday they usually managed to have something a little better, as they had been accustomed to do when Mr. Hoffman was alive.

      Paul was soon through.

      He took his hat from the bureau, and prepared to go out.

      “I’m going out to try my luck, mother,” he said. “I’ll see if I can’t get into something I like a little better than the prize-package business.”

      “I hope you’ll succeed, Paul.”

      “Better than I did in drawing horses, eh, Jimmy?”

      “Yes, I hope so, Paul,” said the little boy.

      “Don’t you show that horse to visitors and pretend it’s yours, Jimmy.”

      “No danger, Paul.”

      Paul went downstairs and into the street. He had no definite plan in his head, but was ready for anything that might turn up. He did not feel anxious, for he knew there were plenty of ways in which he could earn something. He had never tried blacking boots, but still he could do it in case of emergency. He had sold papers, and succeeded fairly in that line, and knew he could again. He had pitted himself against other boys, and the result had been to give him a certain confidence in his own powers and business abilities. When he had first gone into the street to try his chances there, it had been with a degree of diffidence. But knocking about the streets soon gives a boy confidence, sometimes too much of it; and Paul had learned to rely upon himself; but the influence of a good, though humble home, and a judicious mother, had kept him aloof from the bad habits into which many street boys are led.

      So Paul, though his stock in trade had been stolen, and he was obliged to seek a new kind of business, was by no means disheartened. He walked a little way downtown, and then, crossing the City Hall Park, found himself on Broadway.

      A little below the Astor House he came to the stand of a sidewalk-merchant, who dealt in neckties. Upon an upright framework hung a great variety of ties of different colors, most of which were sold at the uniform price of twenty-five cents each.

      Paul was acquainted with the proprietor of the stand, and, having nothing else to do, determined to stop and speak to him.

      CHAPTER VII

      A NEW BUSINESS

      The proprietor of the necktie stand was a slender, dark-complexioned young man of about twenty-five, or thereabouts.

      His name was George Barry. Paul had known him for over a year, and whenever he passed his stand was accustomed to stop and speak with him.

      “Well, George, how’s business?” asked Paul.

      “Fair,” said Barry. “That isn’t what’s the matter.”

      “What is it, then?”

      “I’m sick. I ought not to be out here to-day.”

      “What’s the matter with you?”

      “I’ve caught a bad cold, and feel hot and feverish. I ought to be at home and abed.”

      “Why don’t you go?”

      “I can’t leave my business.”

      “It’s better to do that than to get a bad sickness.”

      “I suppose it is. I am afraid I am going to have a fever. One minute I’m hot, another I’m cold. But I can’t afford to close up my business.”

      “Why don’t you get somebody to take your place?”

      “I don’t know anybody I could get that I could trust. They’d sell my goods, and make off with the money.”

      “Can you trust me?” asked Paul, who saw a chance to benefit himself as well as his friend.

      “Yes, Paul, I could trust you, but I’m afraid I couldn’t pay you enough to make it worth while for you to stand here.”

      “I haven’t got anything to do just now,” said Paul. “I was in the prize-package business, but two fellows stole my stock in trade, and I’m not going into it again. It’s about played out. I’m your man. Just make me an offer.”

      “I should like to have you take my place for a day or two, for I know you wouldn’t cheat me.”

      “You may be sure of that.”

      “I am sure. I know you are an honest boy, Paul. But I don’t know what to offer you.”

      “How many neckties do you sell a day?” asked Paul, in a businesslike tone.

      “About a dozen on an average.”

      “And how much profit do you make?”

      “It’s half profit.”

      Paul made a short calculation. Twelve neckties at twenty-five cents each would bring three dollars. Half of this was a dollar and a half.

      “I’ll take your place for half profits,” he said.

      “That’s fair,” said George Barry. “I’ll accept your offer. Can you begin now?”

      “Yes.”

      “Then I’ll go home and go to bed. It’s the best place for me.”

      “You’d better. I’ll come round after closing up, and hand over the money.”

      “All right! You know where I live?”

      “I’m not sure.”

      “No. – Bleecker street.”

      “I’ll come up this evening.”

      George Barry walked away, leaving Paul in charge of his business.

      He did so with perfect confidence. Not every boy in Paul’s circumstances can be trusted, but he felt sure that Paul would do the right thing by him.

      I may as well say, in this connection, that George Barry had a mother living. They occupied two rooms in a lodging-house in Bleecker street, and lived very comfortably. Mrs. Barry had an allowance of two hundred dollars a year from a relation. This, with what she earned by sewing, and her son by his stand, supported them very comfortably, especially as they provided and cooked their own food, which was, of course, much cheaper than boarding. Still, the loss of the young man’s earnings, even for a short time, would have been felt, though they had a reserve of a hundred dollars in a savings bank, from which they might draw if necessary. But George did not like to do this. The arrangement which he made with Paul was a satisfactory one, for with half his usual earnings they would still be able to keep out of debt, and not be compelled to draw upon the fund in the bank. Of course, something depended on Paul’s success as a salesman, but he would not be likely to fall much below the average amount of sales. So, on the whole, George Barry went home considerably relieved in mind, though his head was throbbing,

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