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Show h rose to a sitting post. . exertion was too much, and . back with a gasp. brought " "Yes, you git a hundred, you the money." .- hundred dol- Burk counted out one hundre lars from the roll that airly the eyes of the boys water, was a suspicious moisture in m eyes. Water? Perhaps. JM. bis hands lovingly over the and then handed it to Ben. "You can git de brace now. . I gu I won t last long, but you can git brace, anyhow." ising The lump seemed to he again. So it had all been of the little cr.pple. Butk was ing as he had never suffered beto Rum had dulled the edge of otM sorrow, but this was the kind of a thing that would last. The Uttie, Pinched face of Billie, the would haunt his dreams forever would rise up between him and pol icy-yes, now was the time to close the shop. , ld "Did you bring a slip so I could see the numbers?" Billie's voice was weaker and the room seemed to be growing darker and darker. The gnawing pai n -nan left him and he te't very comfortable and drowsy oh, o drowsy. "No, I forgot iu' U Bnrk ?Z tending to search lids pocket, 1" bring jrou one in e morning. Yes in the m6.-ning," said Billie, Bil-lie, "in the morning." When morning came it found the little cripple sitting sadly by the bed. WHEN THE BREAD ROW CAME OUT. Dy W. CAL VER MOORE. (Copyright, 1902, by Daily Story Publishing Co.) was becoming more and more difficult to carry his charge down to the street. ! Sometimes he brought food to Ben and sat quietly by while it was eaten. He. "didn't feel hungry," or he had "eaten his on the way up." If Billie I went to bed hungry, then nobody but Bilie was to be any the wiser. As the pile of savings dwindled away, his habit of "eating it on the way up" increased in-creased proportionately. The hungry maw of Policy was ever open and required re-quired food almost as often as Ben; as for himself, well . This condition condi-tion of things could not continue forever. for-ever. There is a limit even to the physical endurance of a newsboy. Billie's absence was quickly noticed by the older players. "Where's Billie Bil-lie gone?" asked one of them one evening. "Oh, he's sick," answered a young fellow who was busily chewing tobacco to-bacco and spitting at regular intervals, inter-vals, i "You been running his play?" asked the first questioner. "Yes, I was just goin' to take the slip up to him when you asked." "What's the matter .with him, anyhow?" any-how?" "Dunno. Just kind of fagged out and weak like a sick cat. Don't think he'll ever live to see it come out." "Been starvin' hisself to make his play, like as not." "What? Takin' a play from a sick kid?" asked a man who felt jubilant over the winning of a few dollars. "Next thing it'll be like Sallie Wiggins, Wig-gins, who played the rent row till she hadn't no money left fer rent, and got "Put dat nickel on de bread row; flat." "What, Billie! You goin' up against the wheel again?" "Yes, I got a straight steer for it, sure. Dreamed about bread last night and see a big pile of it at de baker's dis mornin'." It was not the first time he had played policy. The waif of the streets begins to indulge in this form of gambling gam-bling at an early age, and Billie was one of those little city sparrows whose origin is more or less clouded in obscurity. ob-scurity. He had been taken to raise by an Irish washerwoman who had succumbed to a too strenuous life when her protege was still a very small boy. Billie did not become a public charge. He started out in life by sell; ing newspapers fot- the other boys, and it was not long before he had his own bundle and was able to get alorg very well for a newsboy. With the same charitable spirit which had been such a pronounced trait of his foster mother, he had u dertaken a trust. One of his competitors met with .an accident wh .. Jred him a helpless help-less cripr' i then Beii-was brought back ftLa the hospital Billie said he could "sell for both," and so the thing was settled. He had succeeded in "selling for both" so well that he was able to lay by a little money occasionally, occasion-ally, and the hoard had grown to very comfortable proportions. Billie'3 savings were not the accumulations ac-cumulations of an embryo miser. The doctor had said that Ben must have a brace for his back and Billie hoped to have enough money to buy one at Christmas. In the evening Billie would carry his friend down from their garret room to tl e noisy street. The boys had become great favor-wif favor-wif " e play-1 aid also with, J T " ve proprietor as a. iiwiie dary ' pith a big grey kevitable swagge prosperity, jod of bad luck. fsell as readily and day followed Eition being made race seemed far-hen far-hen he had a sud-i sud-i would " go up L" A few "hits" je money he need- J j dream. i ten entitled to re-;his re-;his numbers had ose drawn that Imbers did not ap-ay ap-ay he staked five pg and the same i i "Then I get a hundred!" Billie shrieked. He would get the brace for his poor, weak back, but his friend was gone, and the roll of green paper in his hand seemed to mean so little after all. put in tne street tne day afore it come out." This anecdote appealed to his hearers, hear-ers, who joined in a loud guffaw. All except Burk. Burk, who laughed at anything and everything, dropped his cigar and followed the young man who had gon-o the shop. ' .War-Wrt-i, w iat's all thVt a.'oow Millie?" "Why, he's sick and I've been running run-ning his play for him, Burkie." "How heavy is the kid playing?" "Half a dollar flat." "The deuce you say! Well, I'll be Mowed." The young fellow opened his eyes and muttered his astonishment under bis breath. It was not the profanity that caused his surprise. No, it was the expression on his employer's face, and he could see no reason why Burk should "go daft at a half dol-lar dol-lar flat." . "Mack, I guess I'll go up and see the kid, myself." The dusty stairs creaked out their misery, as Burk climbed to the top floor of the tenement house. One of the women told him that nothing more could be done for Billie, and there was a lump in his throat as he entered the dingy little room. "Why, it's Burkie! Hello, Burkie! How are they knocking you?" called Billie. Jack Burk was "Burkie" to every one, but the friendly tone in which the nick name was uttered, the note of welcome and pleased surprise from his victim, made that lump in his throat grow larger and more obsti- iiauc. ne eiobsea over to the bed and sat down. Billie feebly reached out his hand. Burk took it and then released it with a shudder. Could that little bunch of bones, such thin bones, really be the hand of a boy? His eyes became accustomed to the half light, and he saw that the hand was that of a little skeleton-like creature crea-ture who had, without doubt, been Billie, the newsboy. "Well, Billie, they ain't doin' a whole lot, that is, not many of them ain't." "Somebody make a hit?" asked Billie, Bil-lie, seeing the implication. "Yes, you hit me, and hit me heavy too." . ' "What! I hit you?" "You was playin' the bread row wasn't you?" ' "Yes," cried Billie, excitedly. "I knew it would come out. Here's me play. Fifty flat." "It's more than come out," said Burk, who was not going to underact under-act his part, "It's come out in both wheels." "Both wheels! Then I git a hundred!" hun-dred!" Billie shrieked. His eyes bulged with the surprise of it all, and j v J of bad luck, evening with no 1 continued to 1 the winning of ave only reim-m reim-m of his stakes; e amount of the s. The possible soon almost ab-mnt ab-mnt rose from fteen to twenty, j to twenty-five, us. by rapidly. He he had been. It . i I |