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Read book online ยซPaul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant by Jr. Horatio Alger (best finance books of all time TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Jr. Horatio Alger



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said, resolutely, eyeing Mike warily, and watching a chance to give him another blow.

The contest was brief, being terminated by the sudden and unwelcome arrival of a policeman.

โ€œWhat's this?โ€ he asked authoritatively, surveying the combatants; Paul, with his flushed face, and Mike, whose nose was bleeding freely from a successful blow of his adversary.

โ€œHe pitched into me for nothin',โ€ said Mike, glaring at Paul, and rubbing his bloody nose on the sleeve of his ragged coat.

โ€œThat isn't true,โ€ said Paul, excitedly. โ€œHe came up while I was selling prize packages of candy in front of the post office, and pulled my hat over my eyes, while another boy grabbed my basket.โ€

โ€œYou lie!โ€ said Mike. โ€œI don't know nothin' of your basket.โ€

โ€œWhy did you pull his hat over his eyes?โ€ asked the policeman.

โ€œBecause he insulted me.โ€

โ€œHow did he insult you?โ€

โ€œHe wouldn't trust me till to-morrow.โ€

โ€œI don't blame him much for that,โ€ said the policeman, who was aware of Mike's shady reputation, having on a former occasion been under the necessity of arresting him. Even without such acquaintance, Mike's general appearance would hardly have recommended him to Officer Jones.

โ€œI'll let you go this time,โ€ he said, โ€œbut if I catch you fighting again on my beat I'll march you off to the station-house.โ€

Mike was glad to escape, though he would almost have been willing to be arrested if Paul could have been arrested also.

The officer walked away, and Mike started down the street.

Paul followed him.

That didn't suit Mike's ideas, as he was anxious to meet Jim and divide the spoils with him.

โ€œWhat are you follerin' me for?โ€ he demanded, angrily.

โ€œI have my reasons,โ€ said Paul.

โ€œThen you'd better stay where you are. Your company ain't wanted.โ€

โ€œI know that,โ€ said Paul, โ€œbut I'm going to follow you till I find my basket.โ€

โ€œWhat do I know of your basket?โ€

โ€œThat's what I want to find out.โ€

Mike saw, by Paul's resolute tone, that he meant what he said. Desirous of shaking him of, he started on a run.





CHAPTER VI PAUL AS AN ARTIST

Paul was not slow in following Mike. He was a good runner, and would have had no difficulty in keeping up with his enemy if the streets had been empty. But to thread his way in and out among the numerous foot passengers that thronged the sidewalks was not so easy. He kept up pretty well, however, until, in turning a street corner, he ran at full speed into a very stout gentleman, whose scanty wind was quite knocked out of him by the collision. He glared in anger at Paul, but could not at first obtain breath enough to speak.

โ€œI beg your pardon, sir,โ€ said Paul, who, in spite of his desire to overtake Mike, felt it incumbent upon him to stop and offer an apology.

โ€œWhat do you mean, sir,โ€ exploded the fat man, at last, โ€œby tearing through the streets like a locomotive? You've nearly killed me.โ€

โ€œI am very sorry, sir.โ€

โ€œYou ought to be. Don't you know better than to run at such speed? You ought to be indicted as a public nuisance.

โ€œI was trying to catch a thief,โ€ said Paul.

โ€œTrying to catch a thief? How's that?โ€ asked the stout gentleman, his indignation giving way to curiosity.

โ€œI was selling packages in front of the post office when he and another boy came up and stole my basket.โ€

โ€œIndeed! What were you selling?โ€

โ€œPrize packages, sir.โ€

โ€œWhat was in them?โ€

โ€œCandy.โ€

โ€œCould you make much that way?โ€

โ€œAbout a dollar a day.โ€

โ€œI'd rather have given you a dollar than had you run against me with such violence. I feel it yet.โ€

โ€œIndeed, sir, I'm very sorry.โ€

โ€œWell, I'll forgive you, under the circumstances. What's your name?โ€

โ€œPaul Hoffman.โ€

โ€œWell, I hope you'll get back your basket. Some time, if you see me in the street, come up and let me know. Would you know me again?โ€

โ€œI think I should, sir.โ€

โ€œWell, good-morning. I hope you'll catch the thief.โ€

โ€œI thank you, sir.โ€

They parted company, but Paul did not continue the pursuit. The conversation in which he had taken part had lasted so long that Mike had had plenty of time to find a refuge, and there would be no use in following him.

So Paul went home.

โ€œYou are home early, Paul,โ€ said his mother. โ€œSurely you haven't sold out by this time.โ€

โ€œNo, but all my packages are gone.โ€

โ€œHow is that?โ€

โ€œThey were stolen.โ€

โ€œTell me about it.โ€

So Paul told the story.

โ€œThat Mike was awful mean,โ€ said Jimmy, indignantly. โ€œI'd like to hit him.โ€

โ€œI don't think you would hurt him much, Jimmy,โ€ said Paul, amused at his little brother's vehemence.

โ€œThen I wish I was a big, strong boy,โ€ said Jimmy.

โ€œI hope you will be, some time.โ€

โ€œHow much was your loss, Paul?โ€ asked his mother.

โ€œThere were nearly forty packages. They cost me about a dollar, but if I had sold them all they would have brought me in twice as much. I had only sold ten packages.โ€

โ€œShall you make some more?โ€

โ€œNo, I think not,โ€ said Paul. โ€œI've got tired of the business. It's getting poorer every day. I'll go out after dinner, and see if I can't find something else to do.โ€

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