PAUL MAKES A PURCHASE.
It is not very pleasant to be informed that your house is to be
entered by burglars. Still, if such an event is in prospect, it is
well to know it beforehand. While Paul felt himself fortunate in
receiving the information which Julius gave him, he also felt anxious.
However well he might be prepared to meet the attack, he did not like
to have his mother and Jimmy in the house when it was made. Burglars
in nearly every case are armed, and if brought to bay would doubtless
use their arms, and the possible result of a chance shot was to be
dreaded. On Monday night, therefore, if that should be the one decided
upon by the burglars, he made up his mind that his mother and Jimmy
should sleep out of the house. He lost no time in proposing this plan
to his mother.
"Mother," said he on reaching home, "I have had some news to-day."
"Not bad, I hope?" said Mrs. Hoffman.
"I leave you to judge," answered Paul, with a smile. "We are to have
visitors next Monday evening."
"Visitors, Paul? Who are they?"
"Mr. Jack Morgan and Mr. Marlowe."
"Are they friends of yours? I never heard you mention them."
"I never saw them that I know of."
"Then why did you invite them here?"
"They invited themselves."
"I don't understand it, Paul. If you don't know them, why should they
invite themselves here?"
"Perhaps you'll understand me better, mother, when I tell you their
business."
"What is it?"
"They are burglars."
"Burglars!" repeated Mrs. Hoffman, turning suddenly pale and sinking
back into a chair, for she had been standing.
"Yes, mother. They have found out, though I can't tell how, that there
are some bonds and plate in the safe upstairs, and that is their
reason for coming."
"How did you find out, Paul? What a dreadful thing!" gasped Mrs.
Hoffman.
"It will be worse for them than for us, I am thinking," said Paul. "It
was a boy told me--a boy that lives with them. I'll tell you about
it."
He gave his mother an account of what had already been communicated to
him.
"Oh, dear, we shall be murdered in our beds!" exclaimed his mother, in
dismal accents.
Upon this Jimmy began to cry, but Paul only laughed.
"I thought you were braver, Jimmy," he said. "If I buy you a pistol,
will you promise to use it?"
"I don't know," said Jimmy, dubiously. "I should be afraid to shoot a
great big man. Would he have a pistol, too?"
"Probably."
At this Jimmy began to cry again, and Paul hastened to say: "Don't be
afraid; I don't mean to have you sleep in the house that night."
"Where can we go?"
"I think Mrs. Norton will let you stop with her that night."
"And you will come, too, Paul?" said Mrs. Hoffman.
"And let the house be robbed, mother? What would Mr. Talbot think of
that?"
"But you will be killed. What can you do against such bad men?"
"What would you recommend, mother?" asked Paul.
"You might write a letter to them, telling them you knew all about
their plan and you would have them arrested if they came."
"I don't think, mother," said Paul, laughing, "that that would be the
best course. I want to get them here and catch them. Then they can be
shut up, and we shall be safe from any further attempts. I am going to
police headquarters, and they will tell me what to do. Probably two or
three officers will be concealed in the house, and when the burglars
are fairly in will arrest them."
"You needn't stay, Paul."
"It is my duty, mother. We are left by Mr. Talbot in charge of the
house and what it contains. Some of us ought to be here at such a
time. I will take care not to get into danger."
Mrs. Hoffman was a woman and a mother, and it was with difficulty that
Paul could convince her that it was his duty to remain. At length,
however, she acquiesced, and agreed to go and see Mrs. Norton the next
day and ask permission to remain with her on Monday night.
The next day Julius came to Paul's stand.
"Is there any news, Julius?" asked Paul.
"Nothin' much," said Julius. "Jack wants me to call up to your house
and find out where the gold is kept."
"How does he think you are going to do it without my suspecting?"
"He told me to go up and ask for some old clothes. Then, if you didn't
let me into the house, I was to ask for something to eat."
"A good plan." said Paul. "When are you coming?"
"To-night."
"Very well; I'll be ready for you. Is there any change in the
evening?"
"No. They're comin' Monday night."
"I'll be ready for them," said Paul.
"What are you goin' to do?" asked Julius, and he fixed a pair of
sharp, black eyes on Paul.
"Can I trust you, Julius?" demanded Paul, with a keen glance at the
boy.
"Yes," said Julius.
"Then," said Paul, "I mean to have them arrested. They'll walk into a
trap."
Julius looked thoughtful.
"Don't you like it, Julius?"
"I dunno," said the boy, slowly.
"Do you like this man Morgan?"
"I don't like him. I'm used to him."
"And you don't like the idea of his being arrested through your
means?"
Julius nodded.
"I know how you feel, but I don't see how it can be helped. If he
didn't rob us he would rob somebody else. Did he ever do any honest
work?"
"Not as I knows on."
"How does he live?"
"By stealin' and gamblin'."
"I hope he won't teach you to follow his example, Julius."
"I don't want to be like him."
"Why not?"
"I want to be respectable, like you."
"You know it's wrong to steal."
"Yes," said Julius, but without any great depth of conviction. The
fact is, stealing was too familiar to his observation to excite in him
detestation or horror. But he was a sharp boy. He knew that his
guardian for the last five years had spent more than half the time in
confinement. Even when free he lived from hand to mouth. Julius had
made up his mind that it did not pay. He saw that an honest mechanic
got a good deal more comfort and enjoyment out of life than Jack, and
he had a vague wish to become respectable. This was encouraging, as
far as it went. Higher considerations might come by and by.
"If you want to be respectable, Julius, I'll help you," said Paul.
"Will you?" said Julius.
"Yes; you are doing me a great favor. I shall be in your debt, and
that's the way I will pay you. You mustn't grow up like the man you
live with."
"I don't want to."
"We'll talk about that after Monday. We shall have more time then."
"Shall I come up to-night, then?"
"Yes, come."
Julius strolled away with his blacking-box, and Paul was left to his
reflections.
"He'll make a good boy if he's only encouraged," said Paul to himself.
"I don't know what would have become of me if I'd been brought up by
burglars like him. There's nothing like having a good mother. There
ain't any excuse for a boy going wrong if he's got a good mother."
Paul was right. Our destinies are decided more than we know by
circumstances. If the street boys, brought up to a familiarity with
poverty, and often with vice and crime, go astray, we should pity as
well as condemn, and if we have it in our power to make the conditions
of life more favorable for any, it is our duty, as the stewards of our
common Father, to do what we can.
It occurred to Paul that he had no old clothes to give Julius, all his
wardrobe, not very extensive at the best, having been burned up in the
fire which consumed his old home. As he had told Julius to come up, it
was necessary that he should have something to give him, and he
therefore decided to provide himself at a second-hand clothing store.
He knew well enough where they were to be found. His old street
companions used to go to Chatham street and Baxter street in search of
clothing, and these localities, though not distinguished for fashion,
are at least reasonable in their scale of prices.
A little earlier than usual Paul closed his stand, and walked across
the City Hall Park and up Chatham street to a store he had frequently
seen. Like most of its class, it had a large portion of its stock
displayed outside, where the proprietor stood, keen-eyed and watchful,
on the lookout for customers.
"Can I sell you something this afternoon?" he asked, obsequiously, as
Paul halted in front of his store.
"That depends upon whether I see anything that suits me," answered
Paul.
Before he had finished, the dealer had seized his arm, and, hurrying
him into the store, pulled down a coat, on the merits of which he
began to expatiate with voluble tongue.
"I don't want anything for myself," said Paul. "I want to buy a coat
for a boy of twelve. Have you got anything of the right size?"
Paul need not have asked. The trader was keen at a sale, and if
Barnum's giant had called for a second-hand suit, would have sworn
boldly that he had the very thing. In the present case Paul found a
coat which, as well as he could judge, would about fit Julius. At any
rate, the street boy was not likely to be fastidious as to the quality
or exact fit of a coat, which, at all events, would be a decided
improvement upon the one he was now wearing.
"What is the price of this?" asked Paul.
"Five dollars," was the reply.
Paul was too well accustomed to the ways of Chatham street to pay the
first price demanded, or the second or third. Finally he succeeded in
getting the coat for one dollar and a half, which was cheap, although
the dealer made a fair profit even at this price. Before the bargain
was concluded, a tall man strayed in, and watched the bargaining with
slight interest. Paul would have been not a little surprised had he
known that this man was one of the burglars against whom he was
contriving measures of defense. It was, indeed, Marlowe, who, having
dexterously picked the pocket of a passenger on the Third avenue cars
an hour before, found himself thirty dollars richer by the operation,
and being himself out at elbows, had entered this shop on an errand
similar to Paul's.
"What can I sell you?" asked the shopkeeper, to his new customer.
"I want a coat," said Marlowe, roughly; "good and cheap. Don't try any
of your swindling tricks on me, for I won't stand them."
With the details of the negotiation that followed we have nothing to
do. It is enough to say that this chance meeting between Paul and
Marlowe was not without its results, though neither knew the other.