Slow and Sure: The Story of Paul Hoffman the Young Street-Merchant

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  CHAPTER XIII.

  PAUL MAKES A PURCHASE.

  It is not very pleasant to be informed that your house is to beentered by burglars. Still, if such an event is in prospect, it iswell to know it beforehand. While Paul felt himself fortunate inreceiving the information which Julius gave him, he also felt anxious.However well he might be prepared to meet the attack, he did not liketo have his mother and Jimmy in the house when it was made. Burglarsin nearly every case are armed, and if brought to bay would doubtlessuse their arms, and the possible result of a chance shot was to bedreaded. On Monday night, therefore, if that should be the one decidedupon by the burglars, he made up his mind that his mother and Jimmyshould sleep out of the house. He lost no time in proposing this planto his mother.

  "Mother," said he on reaching home, "I have had some news to-day."

  "Not bad, I hope?" said Mrs. Hoffman.

  "I leave you to judge," answered Paul, with a smile. "We are to havevisitors next Monday evening."

  "Visitors, Paul? Who are they?"

  "Mr. Jack Morgan and Mr. Marlowe."

  "Are they friends of yours? I never heard you mention them."

  "I never saw them that I know of."

  "Then why did you invite them here?"

  "They invited themselves."

  "I don't understand it, Paul. If you don't know them, why should theyinvite themselves here?"

  "Perhaps you'll understand me better, mother, when I tell you theirbusiness."

  "What is it?"

  "They are burglars."

  "Burglars!" repeated Mrs. Hoffman, turning suddenly pale and sinkingback into a chair, for she had been standing.

  "Yes, mother. They have found out, though I can't tell how, that thereare some bonds and plate in the safe upstairs, and that is theirreason for coming."

  "How did you find out, Paul? What a dreadful thing!" gasped Mrs.Hoffman.

  "It will be worse for them than for us, I am thinking," said Paul. "Itwas a boy told me--a boy that lives with them. I'll tell you aboutit."

  He gave his mother an account of what had already been communicated tohim.

  "Oh, dear, we shall be murdered in our beds!" exclaimed his mother, indismal accents.

  Upon this Jimmy began to cry, but Paul only laughed.

  "I thought you were braver, Jimmy," he said. "If I buy you a pistol,will you promise to use it?"

  "I don't know," said Jimmy, dubiously. "I should be afraid to shoot agreat big man. Would he have a pistol, too?"

  "Probably."

  At this Jimmy began to cry again, and Paul hastened to say: "Don't beafraid; I don't mean to have you sleep in the house that night."

  "Where can we go?"

  "I think Mrs. Norton will let you stop with her that night."

  "And you will come, too, Paul?" said Mrs. Hoffman.

  "And let the house be robbed, mother? What would Mr. Talbot think ofthat?"

  "But you will be killed. What can you do against such bad men?"

  "What would you recommend, mother?" asked Paul.

  "You might write a letter to them, telling them you knew all abouttheir plan and you would have them arrested if they came."

  "I don't think, mother," said Paul, laughing, "that that would be thebest course. I want to get them here and catch them. Then they can beshut up, and we shall be safe from any further attempts. I am going topolice headquarters, and they will tell me what to do. Probably two orthree officers will be concealed in the house, and when the burglarsare fairly in will arrest them."

  "You needn't stay, Paul."

  "It is my duty, mother. We are left by Mr. Talbot in charge of thehouse and what it contains. Some of us ought to be here at such atime. I will take care not to get into danger."

  Mrs. Hoffman was a woman and a mother, and it was with difficulty thatPaul could convince her that it was his duty to remain. At length,however, she acquiesced, and agreed to go and see Mrs. Norton the nextday and ask permission to remain with her on Monday night.

  The next day Julius came to Paul's stand.

  "Is there any news, Julius?" asked Paul.

  "Nothin' much," said Julius. "Jack wants me to call up to your houseand find out where the gold is kept."

  "How does he think you are going to do it without my suspecting?"

  "He told me to go up and ask for some old clothes. Then, if you didn'tlet me into the house, I was to ask for something to eat."

  "A good plan." said Paul. "When are you coming?"

  "To-night."

  "Very well; I'll be ready for you. Is there any change in theevening?"

  "No. They're comin' Monday night."

  "I'll be ready for them," said Paul.

  "What are you goin' to do?" asked Julius, and he fixed a pair ofsharp, black eyes on Paul.

  "Can I trust you, Julius?" demanded Paul, with a keen glance at theboy.

  "Yes," said Julius.

  "Then," said Paul, "I mean to have them arrested. They'll walk into atrap."

  Julius looked thoughtful.

  "Don't you like it, Julius?"

  "I dunno," said the boy, slowly.

  "Do you like this man Morgan?"

  "I don't like him. I'm used to him."

  "And you don't like the idea of his being arrested through yourmeans?"

  Julius nodded.

  "I know how you feel, but I don't see how it can be helped. If hedidn't rob us he would rob somebody else. Did he ever do any honestwork?"

  "Not as I knows on."

  "How does he live?"

  "By stealin' and gamblin'."

  "I hope he won't teach you to follow his example, Julius."

  "I don't want to be like him."

  "Why not?"

  "I want to be respectable, like you."

  "You know it's wrong to steal."

  "Yes," said Julius, but without any great depth of conviction. Thefact is, stealing was too familiar to his observation to excite in himdetestation or horror. But he was a sharp boy. He knew that hisguardian for the last five years had spent more than half the time inconfinement. Even when free he lived from hand to mouth. Julius hadmade up his mind that it did not pay. He saw that an honest mechanicgot a good deal more comfort and enjoyment out of life than Jack, andhe had a vague wish to become respectable. This was encouraging, asfar as it went. Higher considerations might come by and by.

  "If you want to be respectable, Julius, I'll help you," said Paul.

  "Will you?" said Julius.

  "Yes; you are doing me a great favor. I shall be in your debt, andthat's the way I will pay you. You mustn't grow up like the man youlive with."

  "I don't want to."

  "We'll talk about that after Monday. We shall have more time then."

  "Shall I come up to-night, then?"

  "Yes, come."

  Julius strolled away with his blacking-box, and Paul was left to hisreflections.

  "He'll make a good boy if he's only encouraged," said Paul to himself."I don't know what would have become of me if I'd been brought up byburglars like him. There's nothing like having a good mother. Thereain't any excuse for a boy going wrong if he's got a good mother."

  Paul was right. Our destinies are decided more than we know bycircumstances. If the street boys, brought up to a familiarity withpoverty, and often with vice and crime, go astray, we should pity aswell as condemn, and if we have it in our power to make the conditionsof life more favorable for any, it is our duty, as the stewards of ourcommon Father, to do what we can.

  It occurred to Paul that he had no old clothes to give Julius, all hiswardrobe, not very extensive at the best, having been burned up in thefire which consumed his old home. As he had told Julius to come up, itwas necessary that he should have something to give him, and hetherefore decided to provide himself at a second-hand clothing store.He knew well enough where they were to be found. His old streetcompanions used to go to Chatham street and Baxter street in search ofclothing, and these localities, though not distinguished for fashi
on,are at least reasonable in their scale of prices.

  A little earlier than usual Paul closed his stand, and walked acrossthe City Hall Park and up Chatham street to a store he had frequentlyseen. Like most of its class, it had a large portion of its stockdisplayed outside, where the proprietor stood, keen-eyed and watchful,on the lookout for customers.

  "Can I sell you something this afternoon?" he asked, obsequiously, asPaul halted in front of his store.

  "That depends upon whether I see anything that suits me," answeredPaul.

  Before he had finished, the dealer had seized his arm, and, hurryinghim into the store, pulled down a coat, on the merits of which hebegan to expatiate with voluble tongue.

  "I don't want anything for myself," said Paul. "I want to buy a coatfor a boy of twelve. Have you got anything of the right size?"

  Paul need not have asked. The trader was keen at a sale, and ifBarnum's giant had called for a second-hand suit, would have swornboldly that he had the very thing. In the present case Paul found acoat which, as well as he could judge, would about fit Julius. At anyrate, the street boy was not likely to be fastidious as to the qualityor exact fit of a coat, which, at all events, would be a decidedimprovement upon the one he was now wearing.

  "What is the price of this?" asked Paul.

  "Five dollars," was the reply.

  Paul was too well accustomed to the ways of Chatham street to pay thefirst price demanded, or the second or third. Finally he succeeded ingetting the coat for one dollar and a half, which was cheap, althoughthe dealer made a fair profit even at this price. Before the bargainwas concluded, a tall man strayed in, and watched the bargaining withslight interest. Paul would have been not a little surprised had heknown that this man was one of the burglars against whom he wascontriving measures of defense. It was, indeed, Marlowe, who, havingdexterously picked the pocket of a passenger on the Third avenue carsan hour before, found himself thirty dollars richer by the operation,and being himself out at elbows, had entered this shop on an errandsimilar to Paul's.

  "What can I sell you?" asked the shopkeeper, to his new customer.

  "I want a coat," said Marlowe, roughly; "good and cheap. Don't try anyof your swindling tricks on me, for I won't stand them."

  With the details of the negotiation that followed we have nothing todo. It is enough to say that this chance meeting between Paul andMarlowe was not without its results, though neither knew the other.