though the boys call me Shiner," said
the boy with the papers under his arm, "an' my chum here's named Ben
Treat. Now you know us; an' we'll call you Polly, so's to make you
feel more's if you was home."

Paul was not just certain as to how far this nickname would go towards
making him feel at home, but he did not venture to make any remark
upon it, preferring rather that his own condition, and how he could
better it, should be the subject under discussion.

Johnny Jones told him at once that his idea of trying to get home by
the cars without money enough in his pocket to buy his ticket was an
impossibility; for he and Ben had tried riding on the cars without
paying for it, even a short distance, and had always come to grief
because of either the conductor or the brakemen, whom they looked upon
as the natural enemies of boys. It was useless, therefore, to think
of getting to Chicago in that way, and Johnny appealed to Ben to
decide whether he was right or not.

"It's jest as Shiner says," replied Ben, rubbing the end of his nose
thoughtfully, as if he believed that gave him more of an air of
wisdom. "You couldn't git as far as Newark in a week, 'less you
walked, an' you'd better not try it."

"But what shall I do?" asked Paul, in such distress that even the
candy failed to soothe him.

"I don't see but one way," said Johnny, gravely, as he took the lump
of sweetness from his mouth, lest it should dissolve while he was not
able to give it his undivided attention, and he thus lose a portion of
the treat. "You'll have to stay here till yer earn money enough ter
pay for a whole ticket."

"But how much will that be?" asked Paul, astounded at the careless way
with which the boy spoke of such an undertaking.

"I dunno; but it'll be a good deal. We'll find out termorrer." Then
Johnny turned his attention to the candy again.

"But I can't earn any money;" and now Paul was on the verge of crying.

"Of course yer can," replied Ben, decidedly. "Yer can sell papers like
Shiner does, or yer can get a box, an' go inter the same bizness I'm
in. Ef yer smart, yer'll git three or four dollars a week, 'cordin' to
the weather."

Paul opened his eyes wide with surprise as this enormous amount was
spoken of, and he almost forgot his grief in the visions of wealth
that floated through his brain.

"Shiner an' I hain't got much money in our pockets," continued Ben,
"'cause we're buyin' some real estate, an' we put it all in that '