"Stole," interrupted Jack, in an impressive whisper. "That's an ugly word to use, I wouldn't talk like that if I were you."
"I daresay not; you haven't got to face the master if it should be found out as I have," replied Tom, in a tone of passive misery.
"Oh, come now, don't be in a funk about that, the money is all right, and if you borrowed that ten shillings of your master—"
"If I borrowed it," interrupted Tom, "didn't you tell me to borrow it?" he demanded fiercely.
"Well, suppose I did. How was I to know where you were going to get it from? That wasn't my business, was it? I tell you of a good thing, the way a lot of money can be made without any trouble, only it wants money to breed money always, and if I say to you get ten shillings for a few days, and I can put you in the way of making it half as many pounds before you can say Jack Robinson, how am I to know where you get the money from?"
"But you did know well enough," replied Tom, rather indignantly. "You told me that lots of other chaps did that sort of thing, and I might as well do the same, but I'll take good care I don't any more," he added, emphatically.
"Oh, come now, you're cross about something, I can see. What's amiss with you this evening?" said Jack, in a different tone.
"Why didn't you come last night as you promised?"
For answer Jack burst into a loud fit of laughter. "You're enough to make a cat grin, Tom," he said, by way of excuse. "Anyone could tell you've never had a taste of London life before. Come last night," he repeated, "why, how could I? I was miles away from London. Perhaps you'd have liked me to write about our business that your dragon of an aunt might have opened the letter."
Tom turned hot and cold at the thought of this happening, but still, he repeated, "You ought to have let me know if you couldn't keep your promise."