"We ain't runnin' no day nursery. These you
see here is all the real thing. Maybe we asks fer a hand-
out now and then; but that ain't our reg'lar lay. You
ain't swift enough to travel with this bunch, kid, so
you'd better duck. Why we gents, here, if we was added
up is wanted in about twenty-seven cities fer about ev-
erything from rollin' a souse to crackin' a box and
croakin' a bull. You gotta do something before you can
train wid gents like us, see?" The speaker projected a
stubbled jaw, scowled horridly and swept a flattened
palm downward and backward at a right angle to a
hairy arm in eloquent gesture of finality.
The boy had stood with his straight, black eyebrows
puckered into a studious frown, drinking in every word.
Now he straightened up. "I guess I made a mistake," he
said, apologetically. "You ain't tramps at all. You're
thieves and murderers and things like that." His eyes
opened a bit wider and his voice sank to a whisper as
the words passed his lips. "But you haven't so much on
me, at that," he went on, "for I'm a regular burglar,
too," and from the bulging pockets of his coat he drew
two handfuls of greenbacks and jewelry. The eyes of
the six registered astonishment, mixed with craft and
greed.
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