But the thrill passed, and the next minute he spoke in his usual tone.
"How came you to be in my house last night?"
Gus answered readily now, telling again the story he had already told so many times. The colonel had heard it from other lips before, which was as well, perhaps, for he did not now listen with the closest attention. The child's voice and look as he spoke affected his listener strangely. He said little more to the boy, but soon sent him away.
"Is it not as I said, grandpa?" Edith asked. "He is not what you would expect, not an ordinary street Arab, is he now?"
"No, indeed," said the colonel dreamily. "I wonder if his story is true."
"I have not a doubt of it," said Edith.
"Ah, he has won your heart, I see. And yet—a child put into a house to steal! Well, well, it's a strange world."
"And he is all alone in it," Edith said gently; "a child with no one to care for him."
"That's not our concern; we can't help that. We only know that he came here to steal our things."
"That he was brought here to steal them," said Edith.