Micky had the ill luck to trip just as he had entered a
narrow alley, and, falling with some violence, received a sharp blow
from the hard stones, which made him scream with pain.

"Ow!" he whined. "Don't you hit a feller when he's down."

"What made you fire that stone at me?" demanded our hero, looking
down at the fallen bully.

"Just for fun," said Micky.

"It would have been a very agreeable s'prise if it had hit me," said
Dick. "S'posin' I fire a rock at you jest for fun."

"Don't!" exclaimed Micky, in alarm.

"It seems you don't like agreeable s'prises," said Dick, "any more'n
the man did what got hooked by a cow one mornin', before breakfast.
It didn't improve his appetite much."

"I've most broke my arm," said Micky, ruefully, rubbing the affected
limb.

"If it's broke you can't fire no more stones, which is a very
cheerin' reflection," said Dick. "Ef you haven't money enough to buy
a wooden one I'll lend you a quarter. There's one good thing about
wooden ones, they aint liable to get cold in winter, which is
another cheerin' reflection."

"I don't want none of yer cheerin' reflections," said Micky,
sullenly. "Yer company aint wanted here."

"Thank you for your polite invitation to leave," said Dick, bowing
ceremoniously. "I'm willin' to go, but ef you throw any more stones
at me, Micky Maguire, I'll hurt you worse than the stones did."

The only answer made to this warning was a scowl from his fallen
opponent. It was quite evident that Dick had the best of it, and
he thought it prudent to say nothing.

"As I've got a friend waitin' outside, I shall have to tear myself
away," said Dick. "You'd better not throw any more stones, Micky
Maguire, for it don't seem to agree with your constitution."

Micky muttered something which Dick did not stay to hear. He backed
out of the alley, keeping a watchful eye on his fallen foe, and
rejoined Henry Fosdick, who was awaiting his return.

"Who was it, Dick?" he asked.

"A partic'lar friend of mine, Micky Maguire," said Dick. "He
playfully fired a rock at my head as a mark of his 'fection. He
loves me like a brother, Micky does."

"Rather a dangerous kind of a friend, I should think,"
said Fosdick. "He might have killed you."

"I've warned him not to be so 'fectionate another time," said Dick.

"I know him," said Henry Fosdick. "He's at the head of a gang of
boys living at the Five-Points. He threatened to whip me once
because a gentleman employed me