"Yer bet I can. Come on, an' I'll show yer."

Andy looked suspicious and doubtful. How could Pete be so knowing as
that? If he could not understand the letter, how could Pete?

Pete, however, led him without a word, but with a wonderfully knowing
air, along several blocks, and finally stopped at a news stand and
looked it over.

"That the last Mirror, boss?" he asked, of the man in charge.

"Yep."

"Give it ter me?"

And Pete handed over his quarter, received his change and a paper and
then led Andy up a side street and gave the paper to him.

Andy saw that its name was the Mirror, and that it was devoted to
theatrical news. That was enough to give him confidence in Pete's
intelligence, but he was in the dark yet.

"I see so much," he said; "but I don't understand about Uncle Mike."

"Andy," said Pete, with a compassionate air, "yer a dandy with yer
dukes, an' yer square as a brick; but yer ain't cut yer eye-teeth yet.
Gimme the paper an' let me show yer."

Andy gave him the paper and the knowing Pete took it and turned to the
back pages.