will be nice," said little Rose, hopefully, "somewhere where he cannot find us."
"Yes, somewhere where he cannot find us."
"When shall we go?"
"Now," said the newsboy, promptly. "We'll go while he is lying there, and can't interfere with us. Get your bonnet, and we'll start."
A change of residence with those who have a superfluity of this world's goods is a formidable affair. But the newsboy and his sister possessed little or nothing besides what they had on, and a very small bundle, done up hastily in an old paper on which Rough and Ready had been "stuck," that is, which he had left on his hands, contained everything which they needed to take away.
They left the room, closing the door after them, and went down the rickety stairs, the little girl's hand being placed confidingly in that of her brother. At length they reached the foot of the last staircase, and passed through the outer door upon the sidewalk.
"It's the last time you'll go into that house," said the newsboy. "You can bid good-by to it."
"Where are we going now, Rufus?"
"I am going to see if I can find, and buy back, your new clothes, Rose. We'll walk along Baxter Street, and maybe we'll see them hanging up in some shop."
"But have you got money enough to buy them back, Rufus?"
"I think I have, Rose. Wouldn't you like to have them again?"
"Yes, Rufus; but it is too much money for you to pay. Never mind the clothes. I can get along without them," said Rose, though it cost her a pang to give up the nice dress which had given her so much innocent pleasure.
"No, Rose, I want you to wear them. We are going to live respectably now, and I don't want to see you wearing that old calico dress."
Little Rose was dressed in a faded calico gown, which had been made over, not very artistically, from a dress which had belonged to her mother. It had been long in use, and showed the effects of long wear. It had for some time annoyed the newsboy, who cared more that his sister should appear well dressed than himself. He knew that his sister was pretty, and he felt proud of her. Feeling as he did, it is no wonder that his indignation was aroused by the conduct of his stepfather in selling his little sister's new clothes, which he had bought out of his scanty earnings. While they had been speaking, they had walked to the end of the block and turned into Baxter Street.
Baxter Street is one of the most miserable streets in the most miserable quarter of the city. It is lined with old-clothing shops, gambling-dens, tumble-down tenements, and drinking saloons, and at all times it swarms with sickly and neglected children, bold and wretched women, and the lowest class of men. One building, which goes by the name of Monkey Hall, is said to be a boarding-house for the monkeys, which during the day are carried about by Italian organ-grinders. It was in this street where Rufus had reason to believe that his sister's clothes might be found.
The two children walked slowly on the west side, looking into the old-clothes shops, as they passed.
"Come in, boy," said a woman at the entrance of one of the shops. "I'll fit you out cheap."
"Have you got any clothes that will do for this little girl?" asked the newsboy.
"For the little gal? Yes, come in; I'll fit her out like a queen."
The shabby little shop hardly looked like a place where royal attire could be procured. Still it might be that his sister's clothes had been sold to this woman; so Rough and Ready thought it well to enter.
The woman rummaged about among some female attire at the back part of the shop, and brought forward a large-figured de laine dress, of dingy appearance, and began to expatiate upon its beauty in a voluble tone.
"That's too large," said Rough and Ready. "It's big enough for me."
"Maybe you'd like it for yourself," said the woman, with a laugh.
"I don't think it would suit my style of beauty," said the newsboy. "Haven't you got anything smaller?"
"This'll do," persisted the woman. "All you've got to do is to tuck it up so;" and she indicated the alteration. "I'll sew it up in a minute."
"No, it won't do," said the newsboy, decidedly. "Come, Rose."
They went into another shop, where a man was in attendance; but here again their inquiries were fruitless.
They emerged from the shop, and, just beyond, came to a basement shop, the entrance to which was lined with old clothes of every style and material. Some had originally been of fine cloth and well made, but had in course of time made their way from the drawing-room to this low cellar. There were clothes of coarser texture and vulgar cut, originally made for less aristocratic customers, which perhaps had been sold to obtain the necessaries of life, or very possibly to procure supplies for the purchase of rum. Looking down into this under-ground shop, the quick eyes of Rose caught sight of the new dress, of which she had been so proud, depending from a nail just inside.
"There it is," she said, touching the newsboy on the arm. "I can see it."
"So it is. Let's go down."
They descended the stone steps, and found themselves in a dark room, about twelve feet square, hung round with second-hand garments. The presiding genius of the establishment was a little old man, with a dirty yellow complexion, his face seamed with wrinkles, but with keen, sharp eyes, who looked like a spider on the watch for flies.
"What can I sell you to-day, young gentleman?" he asked, rubbing his hands insinuatingly.
"What's the price of that dress?" asked Rough and Ready, coming straight to the point.
"That elegant dress," said the old man, "cost me a great deal of money. It's very fine."
"I know all about it," said the newsboy, "for I bought it for my sister last week."
"No, no, you are mistaken, young gentleman," said the old man, hastily, fearing it was about to be reclaimed. "I've had it in my shop a month."
"No, you haven't," said the newsboy, bluntly; "you bought it this morning of a tall man, with a red nose."
"How can you say so, young gentleman?"
"Because it's true. The man took it from my sister, and carried it off. How much did you pay for it?"
"I gave two dollars and a half," said the old man, judging from the newsboy's tone that it was useless to persist in his denial. "You may have it for three dollars."
"That's too much. I don't believe you gave more than a dollar. I'll give you a dollar and a half."
The old man tried hard to get more, but as Rough and Ready was firm, and, moreover, as he had only given fifty cents for the dress an hour before, he concluded that he should be doing pretty well in making two hundred per cent. profit, and let it go.
The newsboy at once paid the money, and asked if his sister could put it on there. A door in the back part of the shop was opened, revealing an inner room, where Rose speedily made the change, and emerged into the street with her old dress rolled up in a bundle.
CHAPTER IV.
A FORTUNATE MEETING
"Where are we going, Rufus?"
