Читать книгу A Battle for Right; Or, A Clash of Wits онлайн

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“I’ve heard somebody called ‘Joe’ in that house,” replied young Garvan. “But I never saw the man himself.”

“Well, that does not make any difference. After all, I don’t want you to do anything more than be in the house, to let Chick in when he comes. You are sure nobody followed you when you came away this afternoon?”

“I’ll bet on that,” replied Patsy. “I know Jersey City like a book, and if there’s any one can shadow me in that burg without my finding it out, I’d like to see him. I know twenty ways of gettin’ out of Jersey City without no one knowing which way I went.”

“The street is a quiet one, and it is rather away from Montgomery and the other thoroughfares where a newsboy might be expected to be trying to do business.”

“A newsboy who wants to sell papers doesn’t stay on any particular street,” replied Patsy. “He follows up his business, no matter where it may lead him. That’s the kind of newsboy I am,” he added, with a cheerful grin. “This Salisbury Street is long enough—and ugly enough—for any kind of business.”