Part 19 (1/2)
”Why do you ask?” demanded Paul, eying the boy with suspicion.
”There's a couple of chaps that's plannin' to rob the house,” said Julius, sinking his voice almost to a whisper, and looking cautiously about him to guard against being overheard.
”Who are they? How do you know it?” asked Paul, startled.
”One is Jack Morgan, the man I live with; the other is a friend of his, Tom Marlowe.”
”Did you hear them talking about it?”
”Yes; last night.”
”Did they tell you about it?”
”They wanted me to find out all about you--if you'd got any friends in Brooklyn, or anywheres round. They want to get you off the night they're goin' to break in.”
”When is that?”
”Next Monday.”
”What made you tell me all this?”
”'Cause you was good to me and give me a dinner when I was hungry.”
”Give me your hand,” said Paul, his heart warming toward the boy who exhibited so uncommon a feeling as grat.i.tude.
”It's dirty,” said Julius, showing his hand stained with blacking.
”Never mind,” said Paul, grasping it warmly. ”You're a good fellow, and I'd rather take your hand than a good many that's cleaner.”
Julius, rough Arab as he was, looked gratified, and his face brightened. He felt that he was appreciated, and was glad he had revealed the plot.
”Now,” said Paul, ”you have told me about this man's plans; are you willing to help me further? Are you willing to let me know anything more that you find out about the robbery?”
”Yes, I will,” said Julius, unhesitatingly.
”Then I'll depend upon you. What sort of a man is this that you live with? What's his name?”
”His name is Jack Morgan. He's a bad sort, he is. He's shut up most of the time.”
”What makes you stay with him?”
”I'm used to him. There ain't n.o.body else I belong to.”
”Is he your father?”
”No, he ain't.”
”Any relation?”
”Sometimes he says he's my uncle, but maybe it ain't so--I dunno.”