Nelson The Newsboy. Stratemeyer Edward

going out an hour or so," he said. "You keep good watch while I'm away."

      "All right," answered Nelson. He was disappointed at not being able to question Pepper, but saw there was no help for it. Soon the man was gone, and Nelson was left alone. Pepper had locked the street door and taken the key with him.

      The day's work had made Nelson tired, but he was in no humor for sleeping, and tumbled and tossed for a long while after lying down upon his hard couch. He thought of the stout gentleman, of the big newsboy who had robbed him, and of the kind young lady who had offered him assistance. For some reason he could not get the young lady out of his mind, and he half wished he might see her again.

      Then his thoughts came back to himself. Who was he, and how had he come into Sam Pepper's care? Surely the man must know all about the past. What could Pepper be hiding from him?

      At last he fell asleep, and did not rouse up until early morning. Sam Pepper was just returning, and a glance showed that the man was more than half under the influence of liquor.

      "It's a good game," muttered Pepper to himself, as he stumbled around, preparing to retire, "A good game, and it will make me rich. And Nelson shall help me, too."

      "Help you at what?" asked the newsboy sleepily.

      "Never mind now, you go to sleep," answered Pepper sharply.

      He pitched himself on his bed and was soon snoring lustily, and seeing this Nelson did not attempt to disturb him. He slept soundly for the rest of the night, and by six o'clock was outdoors and on his way to get his supply of morning papers.

      Pepper had warned him to come back by eleven o'clock, to go at the dishes again, for the kitchen woman was not coming back. This made him cautious about investing in newspapers. However, trade proved brisk, and by ten o'clock he had sold out, and cleared sixty cents.

      "I won't buy any more papers until after dinner," he said to himself. "I'll walk down to the ferry and see if I can find out anything about Billy Darnley."

      At the ferry there was the usual rush of passengers, the noise of the heavy trucks coming and going, and the shrill cries of the newsboys. Nelson stopped near the ferryhouse to view the scene.

      Hardly had he paused when his attention was attracted to a quarrel between a large newsboy and a small one. The larger lad was shaking his fist in the face of the smaller.

      "You keep away from dis corner, Paul Randall!" said the big newsboy. "If yer don't I'll fix yer, remember dat!"

      "I have as much right here as you, Len Snocks!" replied the little fellow.

      "Yer aint got no right here at all!" blustered Len Snocks. "Dis is my spot, see?"

      "You didn't pay for it."

      "Don't yer talk back ter me!" howled Len Snocks, and catching the little lad's stock of papers he threw them down in the mud of the street. "Now clear out, or I'll t'row you down de same way," he went on.

      The scene made Nelson's blood boil. He recognized both boys, and knew that Paul Randall helped support a mother who was half blind. Len Snocks was a bully belonging to the crowd with whom Billy Darnley associated.

      Rushing across the roadway, Nelson caught Len Snocks by the arm and held him tightly.

      "You big brute!" he cried. "Why don't you tackle a fellow your own size?"

      "Oh, Nelson, he has spoiled my papers!" sobbed Paul, running to save what was left of the stock.

      "Lemme go!" snarled Len Snocks. "Lemme go, do yer hear?"

      "You must give Paul clean papers for the dirty ones," returned Nelson firmly.

      "I won't do it!"

      "I'll make you do it."

      "Make me?" roared Len. "I'd like to see you try it."

      In a twinkle Nelson placed one foot behind the bully. Then he gave the big newsboy a shove which landed him flat on his back. On the instant he was down on top of Len.

      "How many papers are dirty, Paul?" he asked.

      "Two Suns, a World, and a Journal," was the quick answer.

      "Take 'em out of Len's pile."

      "Lemme up, or I'll kill you!" howled the bully, and struggled to arise. But Nelson was master of the situation. He continued to hold Len down, and did not let go until Paul had the papers he wished. Then he leaped up, squared off on the defensive, and awaited the outcome of the encounter. Paul lost no time in placing himself behind his newly found champion.

      CHAPTER IV.

      DOWN AT THE FERRY

      Len Snocks' eyes flashed dangerously when he confronted Nelson. For a long time he had had matters all his own way around the ferryhouse, and the only boys who were allowed to sell papers there besides himself were such as would toady to him and help him sell his over-supply when trade was dull with him. Often he made the lads pay him five or ten cents for selling papers there, when trade was extra lively.

      Paul Randall had no father, and his mother being half blind and quite feeble, the lad felt that every cent he earned must be brought home. Consequently he refused to give Len anything, and this made the big newsboy come to the conclusion that Paul must be driven to seek sales elsewhere. In matters of business newsboys are often as scheming and unfair as are certain men in higher walks of life. Money is everything to them, and they will do almost anything to obtain it.

      "Wot do yer mean by t'rowin' me down?" cried Len, as he doubled up his grimy fists, which had not seen soap or water for many a day.

      "You know what I mean, Len Snocks," retorted Nelson. "Paul has as much right to sell papers here as you have."

      "No, he haint!"

      "I say he has, and he'll sell papers here, too, and you shan't stop him."

      "Won't I?"

      "If you try it, you'll run against me again, remember that."

      "I've a good mind to give you a lickin' fer t'rowin' me down," blustered Len, but he made no effort to begin the chastisement.

      "If you want to fight, I'm here now," answered Nelson calmly. He understood fully that Len was as much of a coward as he was of a bully.

      Len looked around, to see if there was anybody at hand to give him assistance. But all the boys were small, and he felt they could not do much against Nelson, who was known to be strong.

      "Yer want to make me lose me trade," he muttered. "I'll fight yer when de rush is over." And he moved toward the ferry entrance.

      "All right, I'll be ready for you any time," called Nelson after him. "And, remember, leave Paul alone after this."

      "Oh, Nelson, how good you are!" cried Paul impulsively. "I don't know what he wouldn't have done to me if you hadn't come up."

      "If he tackles you again let me know, Paul."

      "I will."

      "How is your mother?"

      "She isn't much better. She can just get around our rooms, and that's all."

      "Can she see?"

      "Not much. The landlord said she ought to go to the hospital and have her eyes operated on, but she doesn't want to go and leave me."

      "But maybe it would be best for her, Paul."

      "Well, I'm willing, Nelson. But how is it you aint selling papers to-day?" went on Paul curiously.

      "I've sold out. What have you got left?" Our hero surveyed the stock. "Phew! Eighteen! That's a lot."

      "Len kept chasing me, so I couldn't sell much," answered the little boy, with a look of concern on his pale face.

      "Give me ten of them," said Nelson, and took that number. "Now you go over there and I'll stay around here. We ought to get rid of 'em between us."

      "Good for you, Nelson!" cried Paul, and his face brightened.

      Soon both were at it, crying their wares with the other boys. Len Snocks saw the move, and scowled more than ever, but did