"Have you seen young Hoffman to-day?" asked Marlowe.
"No."
"He don't know we're going to call Monday night, does he?"
"No," said Julius, and he answered truly. "Where could he find out?"
"You might say something to let him know."
"What would make me do that?" said Julius boldly.
"You might think he'd pay you for telling him."
"He ain't rich," said Julius.
"Do you know what I'd do to you if I found out as you'd sold us," here broke in Jack Morgan, his dull eyes gleaming fiercely. "I'd kill you."
"What makes you say that to me, Jack?" said Julius, not showing the fear he felt.
"Oh, it ain't nothin' to you, then?"
"No, it isn't."
Of course this was a falsehood, but it would have been idle to expect the truth from one like Julius, under such circumstances. He knew Jack well enough to understand that he was quite capable of carrying out his threat, and it decided him, when the two went out, to go out himself and not to return. They might find out that he had been dealing falsely with them, and if so his life was in danger. It was yet early, and he decided to go out at once, as he usually did, for it was not very agreeable to pass an entire evening in the miserable tenement rooms.
"Where are you going?" asked Marlowe, as he lifted the latch of the door.
"I'm goin' out. I haven't had any supper."
"You can do without supper to-night, eh, Jack?"
"Yes, he can do without supper to-night."
"Why? What's up?" demanded the boy.
"Never mind what's up," answered Marlowe. "You ain't goin' out to-night."
"I'm hungry."
"We'll bring you some supper. We're goin' out ourselves."
"You never kept me in before," said Julius, who felt that it was best to show surprise at the action of the confederates, though it did not surprise him.
"That's neither here nor there. You ain't goin' out to-night."
"All right," said Julius, "if you say so; only bring a feller some grub."
"We'll bring you some," said Jack, who was not as fully convinced as his comrade of Julius' treachery.
They left the room, carefully locking the door behind them.
Julius sat down on the bed, and began to review the situation.
Evidently he was to be locked up in the room through the night, while Jack and Marlowe were robbing the house on Madison avenue. In all probability they would be arrested, and prevented from returning. But suppose one or both escaped from the trap in which they were expected to fall. If their suspicions of his fidelity were aroused now they would be confirmed by the discovery of the police. Knowing the desperate character of both, Julius reflected with a shudder that his life would possibly be sacrificed. It would not do for him to remain here. He must escape by some means.
But how? This was a difficult question to answer. The room was on the third floor, with a solitary window looking out into a small, dirty court. It was too high up to jump with safety, and there was nothing in the room by which he could descend.
He was still considering this question an hour later, when the two returned.
Jack had in his hand a couple of apples.
"There," said he, tossing them to Julius. "That'll do you till mornin'."
"Thank you," said Julius.
It was true that he had had no supper, and he ate the apples with a good appetite. The two men sat down, and, producing the same old, greasy pack of cards which they had before used, began to play. It was not until a late hour that they could go about the business which they had planned. Twelve o'clock was as early as they could venture to attempt entering the house. To prime them for the task, they had brought in with them a plentiful supply of whisky, of which they partook at frequent intervals. They offered none to Julius.
By and by Julius went to bed. He knew they would not go out till eleven, probably, and he would like to have kept awake till then. But this would have been unusual, and perhaps have increased suspicion. So after awhile he lay quiet, and pretended to be asleep. The men kept on playing cards till half-past ten. Then Marlowe spoke:
"We'll hold up now. It's time to be goin'."
"What time is it?"
"Most eleven."
"The boy's asleep."
"Is he?"
Marlowe went to the bed and leaned over. Julius felt his breath on his face, but gave no sign that he was still awake. He was filled with curiosity to know whether Marlowe and Jack meant to carry out their plan this evening.
"He seems to be asleep," said Marlowe, "but we'll lock him in, to make sure. In three hours we'll be back, if all goes well, with plenty of swag."
"I hope so, Marlowe. I've got tired of livin' this way; we'll go to California if we come out right."
"I'm with you, Jack, on that. A pal of mine went out to the mines and got rich. Then he swore off and turned respectable."
"So would I, if I had plenty of tin."
"I've no objection myself, with plenty of money to back me. Money's what makes the difference between people in this world. Give me a hundred thousand, and instead of bein' Tom Marlowe I would be Thomas Marlowe, Esq., our eminent fellow-citizen, and you would be the Hon.
John Morgan, eh, Jack?"
Jack laughed at the unfamiliar title, though possibly he was no more undeserving of it than some who flaunt it in the face of society.
"I'm the figger for an Honorable," he said. "But it's time to be goin'. Here's good luck!" and he poured down a glass of the whisky at one gulp.
They carefully locked the door behind them, and their heavy steps were heard descending the rickety stairs.
Julius listened till the sound was no longer heard. Then he jumped up from the pallet on which he had been counterfeiting sleep, and said to himself, "It ain't safe to stay here any longer. How shall I get out?"