"A new job!" cried David, trying to infect Tom with enthusiasm. "Delivery-boy on a wagon. You're to get four dollars a week--a dollar more than you're getting. Think of that! You're in luck, my boy--you're getting rich!" But David's enthusiasm did not take. There came no sparkle into the boy's eyes, no eagerness into his manner. He looked thoughtfully at David a moment, then shook his head. "I don't t'ink I'll take it." "What!" cried David. The possibility of refusal had not occurred to him. He plunged into a fervent portrayal of the advantages of the new place. "Mebbe you're right," Tom said, when the picture had been painted. "But I'm gettin' used to t'ings at de Pan-American; I likes de boss an' I likes de woik. An' I don't need de extry dollar. No, I don't want no better job dan what I got. It suits me right up to de chin." He walked, in one shoe and in one stocking, across to David and held out his hand. "But, pard"--a note of huskiness was in his voice--"pard, I appreciate dat you was tryin' to do de fine t'ing by me. Shake." There was nothing more to be said. Tom went back to the Mayor, and David continued dropping in Saturdays an hour before pay-time. One evening in early February, just after David had coaled the furnace and settled down to his story, he had a call from Bill Halpin, whom he had not seen since their first meeting. Halpin leaned against the door, after it had been closed, and silently regarded David, a sneering smile upon his face. "Honest!" he shot out at length, with a short, dry laugh. It was his first word since entering. David stared at the sarcastic, saturnine figure. "What do you mean?" "Honest! And I half believed you!" Again the short laugh. "You almost fooled Bill Halpin--which is sayin' you're pretty smooth." He jerked his head upward. "What's your game?--yours and this man _Rogers_?" "See here, Halpin, what are you talking about?" "Oh, I suppose you'll say you don't know him. But since I met you on the Bowery I've been around here twice, and both times I saw you two with your noses together. You're a smooth pair. Come, what's your game?" "I don't understand you!" "Don't try to fool me, Aldrich," he drawled. "You can't. But don't tell me the game unless you want to. You know I wouldn't squeal if you did. All I want is for you to know you can't throw that honesty 'con' into me." David strode forward and laid sharp hold of Halpin's shoulders. "See here, Bill Halpin, what the devil do you mean?" he demanded. Halpin looked cynical, good-humoured disbelief back into David's eyes, and again let out a dry cackle. "Drop that actor business with me, Aldrich. I don't know what your game is--but I know there is a game. If you want to find out how much I know, come on. Let's go out and have a drink."