the boy did so.
"How's dat?" asked Jimmy.
"Better. I feel much better. But I can't understand how I came here."
"I can't needer. What's yer name?"
"Name?" repeated the other with a wondering stare.
"Sure. What do de odder kids call youse?"
"Oh! My name is Dick."
"Dick? Dick what? Youse must have two names, same's I have."
"Why, yes, of course I have. My name is Dick – Dick – er – I – I – why!" the new boy exclaimed, trying to get up on his knees, but finding he was too weak. "I – I can't remember what my other name is – it's gone from me – something seems to have happened. I remember my first name is Dick, but I can't think what my last name is. Can't you help me?" and he turned a piteous look on Jimmy.
"Dat's queer!" exclaimed Jimmy. "He's forgot his name! What am I up against?"
"Don't you remember my other name?" begged the boy.
"Me? No. How kin I remember it when I never seen youse before? Don't youse know yer own name?"
"I did, but it's gone from me. All I can remember is that they called me Dick."
"Yes, Dick; but Dick what?"
"I don't know." The sufferer tried hard to think what his other name was, but it was impossible to recollect.
"Can't ye remember anythin' else?" asked Jimmy. "Where'd youse come from?"
"I can't remember that, either. All I know is that I got hit on the head. Then it was all dark, and the next thing I recollect I saw you putting water on my head."
"Dis sure is a queer go," murmured Jimmy. "Here I am wid a kid dat can't even remember his own name, an' me dead broke. Oh, yes, dis is a nice state of affairs!"
CHAPTER V
DICK'S NEW NAME
For a minute or more Jimmy thought over the situation. He had been in many strange plights, even in his short life, but never had he known such a situation as this was. He hardly knew what to do.
"Where are we?" asked Dick, while he continued to bathe his head with the water.
"We're in a big box, in a factory alley, down by de East River," replied the newsboy. "Dis is me headquarters when I ain't got no coin."
"I think – I'm not sure – but maybe I have a little money," said Dick. "I remember having some. This place is so cramped I can't get my hand in my pocket."
"Lay down an' stretch out on yer back; den ye kin," advised Jimmy. "Dat's what I have t' do. Dis place ain't hardly big enough fer two."
The other lad did so, and when he put his hand in his pocket the musical jingle of change rewarded him.
"Dat's chink, sure enough!" decided the newsboy. "Now how much is it?"
Dick pulled out a handful of coins. With practiced fingers Jimmy counted the money.
"Two dollars an' fourteen cents," he announced. "Dat ain't so bad. Where'd ye git it? What d'ye work at?"
"I don't know. I can't seem to remember. I can't remember anything but that they called me Dick."
"Dat's queer. But we kin fix dat part of it."
"What part?"
"About de name."
"How do you mean? Do you know my other name?"
"No, but youse got t' have one. Everybody has t' have two names. I'll tell youse what I'll do. I'll give youse another name, an' youse kin keep it till youse gits yer own back."
The other boy looked a little doubtful of this proceeding.
"What will you name me?" he asked.
"I'll call youse Dick Box."
"Dick Box? That's a queer name."
"Well, dis is a queer go all around. Youse says yer first name is Dick. Well, I finds youse in a box, so I'll call youse Dick Box. See?"
"I suppose that will do as well as any other name for the present," agreed Dick, "Perhaps I can remember my other name when my head stops hurting."
"Does it hurt yet?"
"Quite a bit."
"Den let's git outer here," proposed Jimmy. "De watchman'll be along in a little while, and he'll kick us out anyhow. I kin take youse t' a hospital, if youse want's t' go. It don't cost nuttin'. I was dere once, when a cab-horse stepped on me foot. Dey treated me out of sight."
"Oh, I don't think my head is bad enough to go to a hospital for," said Dick. "Perhaps, when I get out in the air, it will feel better. It aches now, and I believe I'm hungry."
"Don't say a word. I am too," replied Jimmy. "But I ain't got de price. Here, better take yer chink, before it gits lost," and he handed Dick back the coins.
"Perhaps you'll – I mean – wouldn't you like to go with me and have some breakfast?" proposed Dick. "I'm a stranger here. By the way, what city am I in?"
"Say, does youse mean dat?"
"Mean what?"
"Don't youse know ye're in N'York?"
"New York? Is this New York? No, I had no idea where I was."
"Well, if dis ain't de limit!" exclaimed Jimmy. "It's gittin' wuss instead of better, Dick Box."
"What is?"
"Dis mystery about youse. Say, honest, youse ain't kiddin' me, is ye?"
"Kidding you? You mean fooling you? Of course not! All I know is that I started away from some place – I can't just remember where – and the next thing I knew I was in the box."
"Well, I guess it's straight goods," admitted Jimmy, with a sigh, "but it sure is a queer go. Youse must have come from some swell joint, den."
"What makes you think so?"
"Why, yer clothes is all to de good. Ye're right in de latest style. Didn't nobody kidnap youse, did dey?"
"Not that I know of."
Dick passed his hand over his head with a bewildered air. It was close in the box, and, now that the sun was up, was getting quite warm.
"Come on; let's git outer here, an' den we kin talk better," proposed the newsboy. He peered out, and, seeing that the coast was clear, he crawled out of the box, followed by Dick.
"I guess we kin take a little scrub in me bathroom, an' den we'll git somethin' t' eat," proposed the street lad, as he led the way to the faucet over the horse-trough. Fortunately the watchman was inside the factory turning on the fires ready for the men who would soon arrive.
Jimmy gave himself a vigorous wash, and then said to Dick:
"Now it's your turn."
Dick appeared to hesitate.
"What's de matter?" asked Jimmy. "It ain't very cold. De cook fergot t' make de fire in de range last night, an' dere ain't no hot water. I'll bounce her if she does it ag'in."
"Why, there isn't any – any towel," said Dick.
"Towel? Well, I guess nixy. Pocket hankcheff's good 'nuff fer me. If ye ain't got none ye kin take mine. It's pretty clean."
"No, thank you, I have a handkerchief."
In spite of the fact that Dick had evidently been used to certain luxuries, he made the best of the improvised bathroom. He washed his face and hands, drying them on a handkerchief of fine quality, at the sight of which Jimmy's eyes opened wider than ever.
"He sure is some rich guy," he said to himself. "Dere's somethin' queer about dis. But I'll git t' de bottom of it, er me name ain't Jimmy Small."
"Where's yer hat?" asked Jimmy of Dick when the washing operations were over.
"That's so. I must have had one."
"Maybe it's back in de box. I'll go look."
He