“My father died six years ago. He was Julius Stickney.”
The chief nodded gravely.
“You have a mother?”
“Oh, yes, sir!”
“What does she do? Does she work anywhere?”
“She did work at the Big Shop, till she had to go out on strike.”
“She was foolish to do it.” The sharp eyes looked straight into those of the boy.
Blue’s met them almost reproachfully. “She had to, sir! She’d ’a’ been glad enough to keep on! She’s looked everywhere for work. She was in McCann’s restaurant till he skipped—he cheated her out o’ ’most three weeks’ wages!”
“He’s a scamp! She isn’t the only one that got left.”
“I know that all right!” The boy wagged his head emphatically.