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.
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