aid Teddy Donovan.

"You did it neat," said another. "Maybe I'll try that same, some day."

"You'd better not. The copp might get hold of you."

"Was it a good cigar, Micky?"

"Wasn't it, just! I wish I'd got another. Stand treat, Teddy."

"I would if I had the stamps. I'm savin' up my money to go to the Old
Bowery to-night."

The boys were standing in a little group, and in the interest of their
discussion did not observe the approach of James Gilbert, who was now
visiting the park with a special object in view. With an expression of
satisfaction he recognized the boy who had served him a trick the day
before. Indeed, it was not easy to mistake Micky. The blue coat with
brass buttons and the faded overalls would have betrayed him, even if
his superior height had not distinguished him from his comrades.

Had Micky been aware of Gilbert's approach he would have thought it
prudent to "change his base;" but, his back being turned, he was taken
by surprise. His attention was drawn by a tap on the shoulder, and,
looking round, he recognized his enemy, as he regarded him. He started
to run, but was withheld by a strong grasp.

"Leave me alone, will yer?" he said, ducking his head as if he expected
a blow.

"I believe you are fond of smoking," said Gilbert, continuing to hold
him tight.

Micky maintained silence.

"And sometimes exchange a poor cigar for a good one?" continued his
captor.

"It was a mistake," said Micky.

"What did you run for, then?"

"What you going to do about it, mister?" asked one boy, curiously.

"So it was a mistake,--was it?" said Gilbert.

"Yes, sir," said Micky, glibly.

"Take care you don't make the mistake again, then. Now you may black my
boots."

Not only the boys who were standing by, but Micky himself, were
considerably surprised at this unexpected turn. They confidently
expected that Micky would "get a lickin'," and instead of that, he had
found a customer. Their respect for Gilbert was considerably diminished
for failing to exact punishment, and, their interest in the affair being
over, they withdrew.

Micky laid down his box, and commenced operations.

"How long have you been a boot-black?" asked Gilbert.

"Five years--goin' on six," said Micky.

"Can you earn much?"

"No," said Micky. "Business aint very good now."

"You manage to dress well," said Gilbert, with an amused look at Micky's
habiliments.

"Yes," said Micky, with a glance at the brass buttons; "