Isaac did a quick calculation. The carriage had cost 50 pounds, or 1,000 shillings, and now it would only sell for 10 shillings. The drop in value was astonishing.
Still, when Carlo bought it, he had probably offered a high price to avoid the trouble of haggling. The carriage certainly hadn't been worth 50 pounds to begin with, and after racing through the night, it was about ready to give up the ghost.
"10 shillings. Deal." Isaac nodded. "But I need to keep that rope."
The man glanced at the rope tied around Fenri and figured it wouldn't sell for much anyway. "Take it, take it."
Isaac walked over to the carriage and worked for a while to untie the rope. The man stood watching. "That dog's pretty sturdy. Is he for sale?"
Fenri immediately looked at him. The man shivered for no apparent reason and instinctively took a step back.
Isaac was busy undoing the rope and didn't notice. "Not for sale."
Still shaken, the man glanced at Fenri again but didn't press the matter. He shrugged, turned, and went back to his work.
Isaac removed the rope, tested its length around Fenri's neck, and made a simple leash. Then he signaled to the man that he was finished.
The man pulled a handful of crumpled bills from his pocket, counted out a few small ones, and handed them to Isaac. Then he turned and shouted, "Hans! Come out and give me a hand!"
Isaac took the money and counted it. Once he had confirmed it was the right amount, he said to Fenri, "Come on, let's go back."
With the deal done, Isaac led Fenri out of the recycling yard and retraced his steps.
The streets here looked completely different from those around Red Maple Street. The road was pitted and uneven, with weeds growing in the cracks. The buildings on either side were low and old, their walls mottled, their windows pasted over with yellowing newspaper instead of curtains. An unpleasant smoky smell hung in the air, coming from several tall chimneys nearby that were belching thick smoke into the sky.
A small grocery store stood on the corner, with rows of canned goods and household items displayed in its window. A little girl in an apron sat on the wooden steps outside, looking down and fiddling with something. Hearing footsteps, she looked up, and her eyes lit up when she saw Isaac and Fenri on his leash.
"What a big dog!" The girl stood up and brushed the dust off her skirt. "Sir, is this your dog?"
"Yes." Isaac stopped.
"Does he bite?"
"Uh, probably not." Isaac glanced at Fenri uncertainly.
The girl reached out, apparently wanting to pet Fenri's head. Isaac instinctively tightened his grip on the rope to keep Fenri from suddenly attacking her, though he wasn't sure he could hold Fenri back.
Fortunately, Fenri only took half a step back, avoiding the girl's hand.
The girl wasn't upset. She withdrew her hand. "Sir, did you just move here? I haven't seen you around before."
"I'm just passing through," Isaac said.
"That explains it!" The girl nodded. "My name's Ellie. If there's anything you want to buy, you can come take a look in our shop!"
Isaac thought for a moment and pulled the five-penny coin from his pocket. "I'd like to ask you a few questions. Can I give you this as thanks?"
Ellie's eyes lit up at the sight of the coin. She took it, weighed it in her hand, and tucked it into her apron pocket with satisfaction. "Go ahead and ask, sir. I know a little about pretty much everything around here!"
"Have you heard the name Carlo Schuster?" Isaac asked.
Ellie tilted her head and thought. When she didn't immediately say she hadn't heard of him, Isaac knew there was a chance.
"Mr. Schuster... I think I've heard people mention a Mr. Schuster, but he might not be the one you're looking for," Ellie said.
Isaac nodded. "That's all right. Can you tell me about that Mr. Schuster?"
"I heard about him from Barry," Ellie said, sitting down on the steps and propping her chin in her hands. "Barry lives at Molly Orphanage. He said a Mr. Schuster was their orphanage's benefactor."
Isaac recalled that welfare institutions like orphanages came in two types: publicly established and privately run. The former were subject to oversight from various parties and received funding from the city or the church, but their capacity was limited, so most orphans with nowhere else to go ended up in private orphanages.
The latter were supported by private funding or donations, and their operations depended entirely on the generosity of their benefactors. Their quality therefore varied widely.
Molly Orphanage was probably one of the latter. Some of these private institutions did their work conscientiously, while others existed in name only, their actual conditions little better than life on the streets. To keep themselves running, many also sent children out to earn money to cover expenses. Many newsboys and odd-job workers came from private orphanages.
"Barry said Mr. Schuster has never been to the orphanage, but he sends money to their account every month," Ellie continued. "Mr. Schuster also sent a teacher there specifically to teach them to read and write. Barry said the teacher is pretty strict, but they couldn't even write their own names before, and now they can all read newspapers."
"But Mr. Schuster made a strange request." Ellie lowered her voice. "Barry said the ones who sell newspapers outside have to do homework when they get back."
"Homework?" Isaac was somewhat surprised.
"Yes. It seems they just have to write down some of the things they see when they're out. Any person or anything will do, but it has to be true. They can't make things up. There are prizes every month, too. The better they write, the more they get. The most Barry ever got was one pound, and he was happy for days."
Something stirred in Isaac's mind. Newsboys traveled through every corner of the city every day, hearing all kinds of news and having access to places and people. Having the newsboys record what they saw and heard outside, then judging their work and rewarding them each month...
Wasn't that just making those children act as his eyes and ears, gathering intelligence for him from every street and alley in Vista?
"That's all I know about Mr. Schuster." Ellie spread her hands. "It isn't much, really. Mr. Schuster never goes to the orphanage, after all, and Barry has never met him in person. He just knows there's someone funding them."
Isaac nodded and asked to make sure, "Is it all right for you to tell me about Mr. Schuster?"
Ellie didn't seem to care. "It's fine. Barry said Mr. Schuster welcomes other people to join in. Even if they aren't at the orphanage, they can do the homework and win prizes. He said the more people who know, the better. As long as they write well, they get paid. Sometimes I have Barry pass my homework along too, and we split the money."
Isaac's lips twitched as he suddenly realized that his inquiries about Carlo might well reach Carlo through little Ellie's "homework" before long...
Still, judging by how lax the secrecy was, Carlo probably hadn't intended for the children to gather any confidential intelligence. All they had to record were the ordinary things they saw and heard in the streets and alleys.