The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1929-05-10

The small boy did not answer, but
his face glowed. Then suddenly
where's Cracky" he demanded.
"Cracky? DO you know Crackyr
The small boy nodded.
"Well, Crackys got the measles, and
why, sonny, what's the matter?"
| got-the-measles, and
now l can't see him." pause while
Mr.. Collins feared a shower. "But
can sell papers,"
Surely. You can take Cracky's
place If you want to-"
| "But when Cracky gets over the
measles then he can sell his papers
can't he?" questioned William.
Certainly, certainly. Now William
or whatever your name Is, you come
| along with me and get the papers,
But you must promise not to fight any
more. Do you understands"
William nodded, and, running over
to the spot where he had thrown his
sweater, he picked it up and prepared
to follow Mr.. Collins. The latter
looked at Williams clothes doubtfully,
wondering who he was. but then recOl-
lected that he had said that he knew
Cracky. Probably a neighbor of the
| OySriens.
swell, come on sonny" Mr.. Collins
hurried the new-found newsboy along
at rate that nearly upset him. and
they soon arrived at the office of the
Daily Journal.
William rubbed the blood off his nose
with his handkerchief and vallantly
tried to open his left eye.
swell, Collins, what do you wantY'
asked the man at the desk. turning
to face him.
"Ah. sir, you know Cracky O'Brien
the newsboy at the corner of Green
and Rose streets, has the measles and
I have just with great difficulty sc.
cured another one."
"Well, how does that concern me-?
asked the manager impatiently.
"Oh, it doesn't, 1t doesn't. But you
know it is necessary to have an eff
| cient boy at that corner and | thought
maybe you'd like to look this one
over"
Bring him in, then; bring him In. =
William stood on one foot, then the
| other. Why didn't that man hurry
My, to think of It'll He could sell
newspapers! And besides, he would
sell them for Cracky. What were
measles like. anyway? He had never
had them. Oh, there was Mr.. Collins
where are my papers, sir?' he
asked breathlessly.
"Come. come. You are to see the
manager. Hurry" said Mr.. Collins.
The managerl Who or what was
the manager? William wondered as
Mr.. Collins hurried him into the office
| and opened the door of the private
| office.
Nov Just walk right in." said Mr.
Collins. .....r
So William walked in, wondering II
a manager was some sort of dragon
| that Mr.. Collins should fear him So
| He looked around the room and, seeing
| nothing but furniture and man with
| his back turned at the desk, he con
| cluded that q manager was a mar
after all.
"Mr. Manager" he said politely
The man at the desk turned and
stared, positively stared at William
William stared back, too.
"Why, are you managerY William
exclaimed finally.
"Why did Miss Hartwell bring yor
down here?" asked Mr.. Compton rath
err GROSSLY. "Why, come here? What!
the matter with your eye-and your
nose? Why, come here?"
William came forward hesitatingly
He wasn't quite sure what his father
would do. He so seldom saw his ia
Their at all.
| Mr.. Compton stopped and picked III
his son. "What happened, Billy, any
way?" he inquired good naturedly
Bil,y-that was a new name. How
much better it was than William. Yes
he did like his father. Laying hi
head confidentially on his fathers arm
he told all of his story, with frequen
Interruptions from Mr.. Compton. "Ant
so he brought me here" he finished.
"Do you think I'm baby now?" h'
/ asked earnestly.
swell, hardly, Billy boy Blu
about this paper business. If your
going to sell papers the rest of you
life I'd like to know what I'm goin,
to do. Don't you think you could Civ
it up?
SWELL" said Billy slowly, II guess
can. And, anyway, Cracky'll be owe
the measles soon, won't he? I'd lik,
to see Cracky. father, really would
Because I've got to tell him I'm not ,
baby any more, you know"
"Well, you can't see Cracky for /,
while" said Mr.. Compton, "but whel
he's over the measles / promise t,
take you to see him so that you cal
tell him. BY the way, Miss Hartwel
is going to leave next Monday to visi
her brother up in Canada, If you't
only known that you wouldn't hav,
had to run away, would your
"No, but anyway. I'm not a baby.
And William II. Compton, Jr., sighet