Chapter V.Dodger.
The boy sprang to the side of Florence, and siezed her wrists in hisstrong young grasp.
"Don't you alarm the house," he said, "or I'll----"
"What will you do?" gasped Florence, in alarm. The boy was evidentlysoftened by her beauty, and answered in a tone of hesitation:
"I don't know. I won't harm you if you keep quiet."
"What are you here for?" asked Florence, fixing her eyes on the boy'sface; "are you a thief?"
"I don't know--yes, I suppose I am."
"How sad, when you are so young."
"What! miss, do you pity me?"
"Yes, my poor boy, you must be very poor, or you wouldn't bringyourself to steal."
"No. I ain't poor; leastways, I have enough to eat, and I have a placeto sleep."
"Then why don't you earn your living by honest means?"
"I can't; I must obey orders."
"Whose orders?"
"Why, the guv'nor's, to be sure."
"Did he tell you to open that secretary?"
"Yes."
"Who is the guv'nor, as you call him?"
"I can't tell; it wouldn't be square."
"He must be a very wicked man."
"Well, he ain't exactly what you call an angel, but I've seen wuss menthan the guv'nor."
"Do you mind telling me your own name?"
"No; for I know you won't peach on me. Tom Dodger."
"Dodger?"
"Yes."
"That isn't a surname."
"It's all I've got. That's what I'm always called."
"It is very singular," said Florence, fixing a glance of mingledcuriosity and perplexity upon the young visitor.
While the two were earnestly conversing in that subdued light,afforded by the lowered gaslight, Tim Bolton crept in through the doorunobserved by either, tiptoed across the room to the secretary,snatched the will and a roll of bills, and escaped without attractingattention.
"Oh, I wish I could persuade you to give up this bad life," resumedFlorence, earnestly, "and become honest."
"Do you really care what becomes of me, miss?" asked Dodger, slowly.
"I do, indeed."
"That's very kind of you, miss; but I don't understand it. You are arich young lady, and I'm only a poor boy, livin' in a Bowery dive."
"What's that?"
"Never mind, miss, such as you wouldn't understand. Why, all my lifeI've lived with thieves, and drunkards, and bunco men, and----"
"But I'm sure you don't like it. You are fit for something better."
"Do you really think so?" asked Dodger, doubtfullly.
"Yes; you have a good face. You were meant to be good and honest, I amsure."
"Would you trust me?" asked the boy, earnestly, fixing his large, darkeyes eloquently on the face of Florence.
"Yes, I would if you would only leave your evil companions, and becometrue to your better nature."
"No one ever spoke to me like that before, miss," said Dodger, hisexpressive features showing that he was strongly moved. "You think Icould be good if I tried hard, and grow up respectable?"
"I am sure you could," said Florence, confidently.
There was something in this boy, young outlaw though he was, thatmoved her powerfully, and even fascinated her, though she hardlyrealized it. It was something more than a feeling of compassion for awayward and misguided youth.
"I could if I was rich like you, and lived in a nice house, and'sociated with swells. If you had a father like mine----"
"Is he a bad man?"
"Well, he don't belong to the church. He keeps a gin mill, and hasever since I was a kid."
"Have you always lived with him?"
"Yes, but not in New York."
"Where then?"
"In Melbourne."
"That's in Australia."
"Yes, miss."
"How long since you came to New York?"
"I guess it's about three years."
"And you have always had this man as a guardian? Poor boy!"
"You've got a different father from me, miss?"
Tears forced themselves to the eyes of Florence, as this remarkbrought forcibly to her mind the position in which she was placed.
"Alas!" she answered, impulsively, "I am alone in the world!"
"What! ain't the old gentleman that lives here your father?"
"He is my uncle; but he is very, very angry with me, and has this veryday ordered me to leave the house."
"Why, what a cantankerous old ruffian he is, to be sure!" exclaimedthe boy, indignantly.
"Hush! you must not talk against my uncle. He has always been kind tome till now."
"Why, what's up? What's the old gentleman mad about?"
"He wants me to marry my cousin Curtis--a man I do not even like."
"That's a shame! Is it the dude I saw come out of the house a littlewhile ago?"
"Oh, no; that's a different gentleman. It's Mr. de Brabazon."
"You don't want to marry him, do you?"
"No, no!"
"I'm glad of that. He don't look as if he knew enough to come in whenit rained."
"The poor young man is not very brilliant, but I think I would rathermarry him than Curtis Waring."
"I've seen him, too. He's got dark hair and a dark complexion, and awicked look in his eye."
"You, too, have noticed that?"
"I've seen such as him before. He's a bad man."
"Do you know anything about him?" asked Florence, eagerly.
"Only his looks."
"I am not deceived," murmured Florence, "it's not wholly prejudice.The boy distrusts him, too. So you see, Dodger," she added, aloud, "Iam not a rich young lady, as you suppose. I must leave this house, andwork for my living. I have no home any more."
"If you have no home," said Dodger, impulsively, "come home with me."
"To the home you have described, my poor boy? How could I do that?"
"No; I will hire a room for you in a quiet street, and you shall be mysister. I will work for you, and give you my money."
"You are kind, and I am glad to think I have found a friend when Ineed one most. But I could not accept stolen money. It would be as badas if I, too, were a thief."
"I am not a thief! That is, I won't be any more."
"And you will give up your plan of robbing my uncle?"
"Yes, I will; though I don't know what my guv'nor will say. He'll halfmurder me, I expect. He'll be sure to cut up rough."
"Do right, Dodger, whatever happens. Promise me that you will neversteal again?"
"There's my hand, miss--I promise. Nobody ever talked to me like you.I never thought much about bein' respectable, and growin' up to besomebody, but if you take an interest in me, I'll try hard to doright."
At this moment, Mr. Linden, clad in a long morning gown, and holding acandle in his hand, entered the room, and started in astonishment whenhe saw Florence clasping the hand of one whose appearance led him tostamp as a young rough.
"Shameless girl!" he exclaimed, in stern reproof. "So this is thecompany you keep when you think I am out of the way!"