g now noticed the megaphone, was staring towards it
like one under the influence of hypnotism. Again a question bellowed
forth from the megaphone, "Oh, Lucien: where did he hit you?" and
Lucien, waking up to the truth of the situation, for once displayed
some evidences of his youth. He shook his fists towards the open
window, and cried out threats of vengeance on William, but those were
soon drowned in another blast from the megaphone. "Get on to Lucien,
ladies and gents, the chee-ild wonder of the century." It was then
that Lucien, with a final shake of his fists, turned and fled. William
laid the megaphone away and walked down the stairs, to find Walter at
the door gazing after the fleeing Lucien.

"That kid was hollering something about knocking your block off," said
Walter. "He seemed to be sore on you."

"Maybe he is," answered William, slyly, "but yesterday he was sore for
me."

CHAPTER XIV

During the next few days William found plenty of work to do at the
Emporium, and in the intervals of leisure he consulted gravely with
Walter Wadsworth on the methods to be followed to attain success as a
pedlar of refreshments in the stands of a baseball park. He did not,
however, neglect his morning lessons with "Chuck" Epstein in Tommy
Watson's auctioneering rooms. There is this to be added too, that
neither Epstein nor Tommy questioned him as to the loss of his position
with Whimple. They had laughed with the latter over the causes
therefor, but as William did not mention it himself, they carefully
avoided opening up the question, knowing from their experience with him
that, in his own way, and at a time of his choosing, the lad would talk
of it.

William was, however, a puzzle to Wadsworth, though he had been
acquainted with him so long. In the intimacy of their relationship at
the Emporium, Wadsworth found himself constantly amazed at the lad's
shrewdness, at his vocabulary of slang, the readiness with which he
could turn from the sheerest of jibing and fun-making to the recital of
a bit of "Bill Shakespeare," or a scene from the plays of other
authors. "Where on earth do you get it all from?" he asked William one
afternoon when the lad, with real dramatic fire, had recited "Henry's
oration to his men before Agincourt." You, dear reader, know it, of
course.

"Outer books," William said, all slang and smiles again. "Say, Walter,
it beats the band and the good stuff some of them guys had in their