“You never thought of that, hey, Sammy? But that's what I found myself facing a few years ago. They'd got every cent I had, and I was ready for the scrap heap. But I said, 'Nay, nay, Isabel!' I'd played their game and lost--but I made a new game--and I made my own rules, you can bet!” “You mean stealing!” cried the boy. “I mean War,” replied the other. “And you see--I've survived! I'm not pretty to look at and I don't live in a palace, but I'm not starving, and I've got some provisions salted away.” “But they had you in jail!” “Of course. I've done my bit--twice. But that didn't kill me; and I can learn things, even in the pen.” There was a pause. Then Charlie Swift stood up and shook the ashes out of his pipe. “Speaking of provisions,” he said, “these midnight adventures give you an appetite.” And he got out a box of crackers and some cheese and a pot of jam. “Move up,” he said, “and dip in. You'll find that red stuff the real thing. My best girl made it. One of the things that bothered me in jail was the fear that the bulls might get it.” Samuel was too much excited to eat. But he sat and watched, while his companion stowed away crackers and cheese. “What am I going to do now?” he said half to himself. “You come with me,” said Charlie. “I'll teach you a trade where you'll be your own boss. And I'll give you a quarter of the swag until you've learned it.” “What!” gasped Samuel in horror. “Be a burglar!” “Sure,” said the other. “What else can you do?” “I don't know,” said the boy. “Have you got any money?” “Only a few pennies. I hadn't got my wages yet.” “I see. And will you go and ask Master Albert for them?” “No,” said Samuel quickly. “I'll never do that!” “Then you'll go out and hunt for a job again, I suppose? Or will you start out on that starving scheme again?” “Don't!” cried the boy wildly. “Let me think!” “Come! Don't be a summer-boarder!” exclaimed the other. “You've got the professor's own warrant for it, haven't you? And you've got a free field before you--you can help yourself to anything you want in Lockmanville, and the bulls won't dare to lift a finger! You'll be a fool if you let go of such a chance.” “But it's wrong!” protested Samuel. “You know it's wrong!” “Humph!” laughed Charlie. And he shut the top of the cracker box with a bang and rose up. “You sleep over it,” he said. “You'll be hungry to-morrow morning.” “That won't make any difference!” cried the boy. “Maybe not,” commented the other; and then he added with a grin: “Don't you ask me for grub. For that would be charity; and if you're really one of the unfit, it's not for me to interfere with nature!”