“Yes; me and de Street Commissioner is in league together.  He makes business good for me.”

“And do you pay him a commission?” asked Rodney smiling.

“I can’t tell no official secrets.  It might be bad for me.”

“You are an original genius.”

“Am I?  I hope you ain’t callin’ me names.”

“Oh no.  I am only paying you a compliment.  What is your name?”

“Mike Flynn.”

“Were do you live, Mike?”

“At the Lodge.”

“I suppose you mean at the Newsboys’ ‘Lodge?’”

“Yes.”

“How much do you have to pay there?”

“Six cents for lodgin’, and six cents for supper and breakfast.”

“That is, six cents for each.”

“Yes; you ain’t comin’ to live there, are you?” asked Mike.

“I don’t know—­I may have to.”

“You’re jokin’.”

“What makes you think I am joking?”

“Because you’re a swell.  Look at them clo’es!”

“I have a good suit of clothes, to be sure, but I haven’t much money.  You are better off than I am.”

“How’s that?” asked Mike incredulously.

“You’ve got work to do, and I am earning nothing.”

“If you’ve got money enough to buy a box and brush, you can go in with me.”

“I don’t think I should like it, Mike.  It would spoil my clothes, and I am afraid I wouldn’t have money enough to buy others.”

“I keep my dress suit at home—­the one I wear to parties.”

“Haven’t you got any father or mother, Mike?  How does it happen that you are living in New York alone?”

“My farder is dead, and me mudder, she married a man wot ain’t no good.  He’d bate me till I couldn’t stand it.  So I just run away.”

“Where does your mother live?”

“In Albany.”

“Some time when you earn money enough you can ask her to come here and live with you.”

“They don’t take women at the Lodge.”

“No, I suppose not,” said Rodney, smiling.

“Besides she’s got two little girls by her new husband, and she wouldn’t want to leave them.”

By this time the shine was completed, and Rodney paid Mike.

“If I ever come to the Lodge, I’ll ask for you,” he said.

“Where do you live now?”

“I’m just staying at a place on Fourteenth Street, but I can’t afford to stay there long, for they charge a dollar a day.”

“Geewholliker, that would bust me, and make me a financial wreck as the papers say.”

“How did you lose your fortune and get reduced to blacking boots?” asked Rodney jocosely.

“I got scooped out of it in Wall Street,” answered Mike.  “Jay Gould cleaned me out.”

“And I suppose now he has added your fortune to his.”

“You’ve hit it boss.”

“Well, good day, Mike, I’ll see you again some day——­”

“All right!  I’m in my office all de mornin’.”