David locked the door, cut off escape by standing before the window, and disentangled his fingers from the boy's locks. He then saw that the boy's dirty yellow hair flowed upward from his forehead in a cow-lick. The boy put his hands in his pockets and continued his defiant stare. "Now, sir, what were you doing in here?" David demanded. "What you t'ink?" the boy returned coolly. "You t'ink I come to collect de rent?" "You tried to steal my coat." "Gee, you're wise! How'd you guess it?" David regarded the little fellow steadily for a minute or more. He now noticed that the figure before him was very thin, and he remembered that once the embrace had been broken the boy had been a mere child even to his own weak strength. "What did you want that coat for?" he asked. "It's like dis, cul," the boy answered in a tone of confidence. "I owns a swell clo'es-joint on Fift' Avenoo, an' I'm out gittin' in me fall stock." "What's your name?" David demanded. "Reggie Vanderbilt." David did not try another question. He scrutinised the boy in silence, wondering what he should do with this young thief who, instead of showing the proper caught-in-the-act penitence, persisted in wearing the air of one who is master of the situation. David now took note that the boy's coat-collar was turned up and that the coat was held closed by a button near the throat and a safety pin at the bottom. The gaping front of the coat showed him a white line. He stepped forward, and with a quick hand loosened the button at the throat. It was as he had guessed--nothing but a mere rag of an undershirt that left the chest half bare--and the bare chest was rippled with ribs. "Keep out o' dere!" the boy snapped, jerking away. David was silent; then he said accusingly: "You're hungry!" "Well, if I am--it's me own bellyache!" "You tried to take that coat because you're hungry?" "I did, did I?" "Didn't you?" "Oh, come stop jabbin' me in de ear wid your questions," the boy returned sharply. "What you t'ink I took it for? To buy me goil a automobile?" He was silent for several moments, his bright eyes on David; then he threw off his defiant look. "Hungry?" he sniffed. "You don't know what de woid means! Me--well, me belly don't have to look it up in no dictionary. I ain't chawed nuttin' but wind for a mont'." "You were going to sell it?" "Nix. Pawn it." David looked from the boy to the coat, and from the coat to the boy. One hand, in his pocket, mechanically fingered his fortune--seven coppers. After a minute he picked up the coat, put it across his arm, and opened the door. "Come on," he said. The boy did not budge. "Where you goin' to take me?" he asked suspiciously. "Nowhere. You're going to take me." "Where?" "To the pawnshop," said David. The boy gave a sneer of disgust, and an outward push with an open, dirty hand. "Oh, say now, cul, don't feed me dat infant's food! D'you t'ink I can't see t'rough dat steer? I'm wise to where--to de first cop!"