Slow and Sure: The Story of Paul Hoffman the Young Street-Merchant

"How?"

"I can't tell yet, but there's plenty of ways. He might be arrested on a false charge and kept over night in the station-house. Or there's other ways. But I can't tell till I know more about him. A letter might be sent him, asking him to go over to Brooklyn."

"Wouldn't do. His mother would get somebody else in his place."

"We must find out all about him. How's that boy of yours? Is he sharp?"

"He ought to be. He's knocked about for himself long enough."

"We can try him. Come here, my son."

Julius rose from his seat and walked up to the pair.

"Hark you, my lad, can you do as you're told?"

Julius nodded.

"We've got something for you to do. It'll lead to money—do you hear?"

"I hear," said Julius.

"Have you heard what we were talking about?"

"I heard, but I didn't mind."

"Then I want you to hear, and mind, too, now. Have you ever seen a necktie stand between Dey and Cortlandt streets?"

"Yes."

"There's a boy keeps it."

"I've seed him."

"So far so good, then. Do you know anything about him?"

Julius shook his head.

"Then I want you to find out all you can about him. Find out if he's got any friends in Brooklyn, or just outside of the city. I'll tell you what I know about him, and then you must learn as much more as possible. Do you know his name?"

"No."

"It is Paul Hoffman. He and his mother live in a house that they take care of on Madison avenue. We want to break into that house some night next week and carry off some plate and bonds that are in the safe. If we make the haul we'll do well by you."

"I understand," said Julius, nodding intelligently.

"What we want," pursued Marlowe, "is to have the boy sleep out of the house the night we make the attempt. That will leave the coast clear. If the woman wakes up and discovers us, we'll threaten to kill her if she makes any fuss. Do you hear?"

Julius nodded again.

"Do you think you can do what we want?"

"Yes."

"That's well. We'll wait for the boy's report before we lay our plans, Jack. Now that's settled, we'll send out for some whisky and drink success to the job."

"Then you must find the money, Marlowe, for I'm dead broke."

"Here, boy, take this," said Marlowe, handing Julius the bill he had recently displayed, "and bring back a pint of whisky."

"All right," said Julius.

"And mind you bring back the change, or I must go without breakfast to-morrow morning."

"I'll remember," said Julius.

When he had gone out, Marlowe said: "Where did you pick up that boy, Jack? He isn't your son, is he?"

"No; I have no son. I picked him up one day when he was a little chap. He didn't seem to belong to nobody; so I took him home, and he's been with me ever since."

"Where does he go when you are shut up, Jack? That's a good part of the time, you know."

"Into the streets. He picks up a living there somehow. I don't ask how."

"And he always comes back to you when you get out again?"

"Yes."

"Loves you like a father, eh?" said Marlowe, laughing.

"He's used to me," said Jack, indifferently.

Not being sentimental, he never troubled himself to expect affection from his young ward, and would not have felt very deeply afflicted if he had deserted him. Still, he, too, had got used to the society of Julius, who was the only living thing that clung to him, and probably would have felt a degree of regret at his loss. There are few, however callous, who do not feel some satisfaction in companionship.

Marlowe laughed.

"What are you laughing at?" said Jack.

"I was thinking, Jack, that you wasn't exactly the right sort to train up a boy in the way he should go, and all that. If he takes pattern by you, it's easy to tell where he'll fetch up."

"He ain't a bad sort," said Jack.

"Has he ever been over to the island?"

"No."

"Then he hasn't followed your teaching, that's all I can say."

"Never mind about the boy," said Jack, who had grown weary of the subject. "He can take care of himself."