The old man stained the face of his visitor so adroitly that he appeared to be deeply pitted with smallpox.
"Your own mother wouldn't know you now," he said with pride.
"That's so, Jacob! you're a regular genius," replied Marlowe. "I ain't sure about it's being me. You're sure about it?"
"Shiver your timbers!" said the old man.
"Shiver my timbers, but I forgot about it! Do you think I'll do?"
"Yes; but you mustn't wash your face till it is dry."
"I sometimes forget to do it now. I guess I can get along without it for a day or two. Now, how much are you going to ask for all this?"
"Seventy-five dollars."
"It's a good deal."
"How long would you get if you got took?" asked Jacob, significantly.
"You're right. It's worth the money. But I can't pay you now, Jacob."
"You won't forget it," said the old man, composedly, for he expected this, since Marlowe's attempt at burglary had been unsuccessful.
"You'll pay me when you can."
"Shiver my timbers, messmate, but I will!"
"Good!" said the old man. "You're getting it."
"I don't think those landlubbers--the cops--will know me in this rig-out."
"Better. You'll do."
"Well, Jacob, I'll pay you as soon as I can. By the way, haven't you any place where you can stow me for the night? It won't do for me to go back to Jack's room; it's too hot for me."
"Lay down anywhere," said Jacob. "I haven't got any bed; I lie down on the clothes."
"That'll do; I ain't used to bridal-chambers or silk counterpanes. I am as tired as a dog. Here goes!"
He flung himself down in a corner on an indiscriminate pile of clothing, and in five minutes was breathing deeply, and fast asleep.
Had he been a novice in his illegal profession, the two narrow escapes he had just had, and the risk which, in spite of his disguise he at present run, would have excited him and prevented his sleeping; but he was an old hand and used to danger. It was not the first time he had eluded the authorities, and was not likely to be the last, so he fell asleep upon his strange couch, and slept as unconcernedly as an infant. The old man did not immediately lie down. He held up and examined attentively the suit Marlowe had thrown oft, which, according to custom, became his perquisite, in addition to the cash payment demanded, and was gratified to find it in good condition. He next plunged his hands into the pockets, but Marlowe had transferred their contents to his new attire. However, Jacob would have been little richer had his visitor neglected to do so. Having finished his scrutiny the old man blew out the candle and lay down in the corner opposite Marlowe.
CHAPTER XX.
THE DISGUISED LISTENER.
On the Monday morning succeeding the attempt at burglary so happily defeated, Paul thought he ought to go round to the counting-room of Mr. Preston and acquaint him with the particulars. He accordingly deferred opening his place of business--if I may use so ambitious a phrase of the humble necktie stand over which he presided--and bent his steps toward Mr. Preston's counting-room. The latter had just arrived.
"Good-morning, Paul," said Mr. Preston, smiling. "I know all about it."
"About what, sir?" inquired Paul, surprised.
"About the burglary."
"Who told you?" our hero asked, in astonishment.
"Didn't you know it was in the papers?"
"No, sir."
"I read it on my way downtown. These reporters get hold of everything.
Read that."
Mr. Preston put into Paul's hands a morning paper, pointing to the following paragraph:
"On Saturday evening an attempt was made to rob the house of Nathaniel Talbot, No. -- Madison avenue. The attempt was made by two well-known burglars, familiarly known as Jack Morgan and Tom Marlowe. The enterprise promised to be successful, as Mr. Talbot is absent in Europe with his family. During his absence the house is taken care of by a Mrs. Hoffman, whose son Paul, a boy of sixteen, keeps a necktie stand below the Astor House. Paul, who seems to be possessed of courage and coolness, learned that the attempt was about to be made, and determined not only to frustrate it, but to get hold of the burglars. He gave information at police headquarters, and when the brace of worthies arrived they met a reception as unexpected as it was unwelcome. They were permitted to effect an entrance, and met with no drawback till they reached the second story. Then the police made their appearance on the scene and effected the capture of Morgan.
Marlowe succeeded in effecting his escape, but the police are on his track, and his haunts in the city being known, there is every reason to believe that he will be captured. Great credit is due to the boy Paul, through whose bravery and good judgment Mr. Talbot's house has been saved from robbery, and probably two noted desperadoes captured."
Paul read this paragraph with pleasure, as may readily be supposed. He was glad to find that his efforts in Mr. Talbot's behalf were likely to secure recognition.
"I never thought of getting into the papers," he said, looking up. "I don't see how the reporters found out about it."
"Oh, the reporters are everywhere. Probably they call every evening at police quarters and obtain information of all such cases. You see, Paul, you are getting famous."
"I only did what I ought to do," said Paul, modestly.
"I agree to that, but that is more than many of us can say. If we all could say it with justice, we should have a very different world from what we have at present."
"Besides," said Paul, who, though he liked praise, wanted to be just, "there is some one else, a boy, too, who had more to do with the affair than I."
"Who was that?"
"The boy who told me the house was to be entered."
"Tell me all about it. I told you I knew all about it, but there is one thing the paper does not explain how you found out the plans of those villains."
"I will tell you, sir. One day I saw a boy in front of the eating-house where I usually dine, who looked hungry. I have known what it was to be hungry myself, and I pitied him. So I asked him in and gave him some dinner. I think it was the next day that he came round and asked me if I did not live in Mr. Talbot's house on Madison avenue. He said the man he lived with and another were intending to break into it and rob the safe. They seemed to know that my mother and myself were the only ones who occupied it."
"How old a boy was he?"
"I don't know his age. He looks about twelve, but he may be older."
"What do you suppose made him bring you the information?"
"I think he felt grateful for the dinner I gave him."
"Did you see him more than once?"