"What's he goin' to give you if I go back with you?" asked the boy, shrewdly. "A glass of whiskey!" replied Hooker and Briggs in unison. "Is that all?" "Maybe he'd make it two." "I won't go back with you," said Dodger, after a moment's thought; "but I don't want you to lose anything by me. Here's a dime apiece, and you can go and get a drink somewhere else." "You're a trump, Dodger," said Hooker, eagerly holding out his hand. "I always liked you, Dodger," said Briggs, with a similar motion. "Now, don't let Tim know you've seen me," said the newsboy, warningly. "We won't." And the interesting pair ambled off in the direction of the Bowery. "So Tim sent them fellers after me?" soliloqized Dodger. "I guess I'll have to change my office, or maybe Tim himself will be droppin' down on me some mornin'. It'll be harder to get rid of him than of them chumps." So it happened that he used to take down his morning papers to the piers on the North River, and take his chance of selling them to passengers from Boston and others ports arriving by the Fall River boats, and others from different points. The advantage of this was that he often got a chance to serve as guide to strangers visiting the city for the first time, or as porter, to carry their valise or other luggage. Being a bright, wideawake boy, with a pleasant face and manner, he found his services considerably in demand; and on counting up his money at the end of the week, he found, much to his encouragement, that he had received on an average about a dollar and twenty-five cents per day. "That's better than sellin' papers alone," thought he. "Besides, Tim isn't likely to come across me here. I wonder I didn't think of settin' up for myself before!" In the evening he spent an hour, and sometimes more, pursuing his studies, under the direction of Florence. At first his attention was given chiefly to improving his reading and spelling, for Dodger was far from fluent in the first, while his style of spelling many words