almost 'fore I got out of the _Herald_ office, an'
didn't stop for anything but jest to pick up Tim an' Jerry before I come
to find you."

Joe looked at each of his friends in turn before taking the proffered
paper, and then, after considerable difficulty because of the necessity
of spelling out each word in turn, he read the following:

JOSEPH POTTER. Information wanted of a newsboy or fruit
vendor answering to the name of Joseph Potter. He was last
seen in front of the Grand Central Station at about seven
o'clock on the evening of yesterday (Tuesday), holding in
his arms a child three years old. A liberal reward will be
paid for information as to the present whereabouts of the
boy. Address Cushman & Morton, Attorneys at Law, 47-1/2 Pine
Street, New York.

Immediately below this was an advertisement signed with the same names,
requesting information concerning a little girl who had strayed from the
Grand Central Station and was last seen in the company of a newsboy; but
this Joe did not read.

The fact that he was advertised for, as if he had been a fugitive from
justice, terrified him.

He could not so much as speak; but looked alternately at the printed
sheet and his companions, until Dan said, sternly:

"Now, Joe, you can tell us 'bout this thing or not, jest as you have a
mind. What we've come for is to help you get clear, an' we're bound to
do it."

"Get clear of what?" Joe repeated, in bewilderment.

"You know better'n we do, an' I ain't askin' questions if you think it
ought'er be kept secret from us."

"But I haven't been doin' anything that wasn't square," Joe replied,
with a trembling voice.

"Then what's a couple of lawyers advertisin' you for?" Tim Morgan asked,
shrilly. "Do you s'pose sich folks want'er catch a feller what sells
papers, jest to look at him?"

[Illustration: "DAN POINTED TO AN ADVERTISEMENT."]

"See here, Tim, you know me, an' you know I never did a mean thing to
anybody in my life."

"Then what they advertisin' yer for?"

"Say, fellers, I wouldn't try to make out--"

"Now, Joe, this ain't any time for you to stuff us," Dan Fernald said,
impatiently. "If you hadn't done anything crooked, your name wouldn't be
right there in them big letters. You've allers been willin' to do us a
good turn, an' we're goin' to pay you back. You've _got_ to skip! An'
you've got to skip bloomin' quick!"

CHAPTER IV.

JOE'S FLIGHT.

It wa