“More of me? No, ma’am,” said the amazed young man. “You see all there is of me. I never was very husky—no, ma’am.”
He seemed to be a very diffident burglar. He quite puzzled Dot.
“Don’t—don’t you ever get afraid in your business?” she asked. “I should think you would.”
“Yep. I’m some afraid when I wipe a joint,” admitted the young man. “Ye see, I ain’t used to the hot lead, yet.”
Dot thought over that answer a good while. Of course, she could not be expected to understand the professional talk of burglars—never having associated with that gentry. What “wiping a joint” meant she could not imagine; and what burglars did with hot lead was quite as puzzling.
“I—I suppose your boss is a journeyman burglar?” queried the little girl, at last.
“Wha-at!” gasped the young man. Then he grinned hugely. “That’s what some of his customers calls him, miss,” he agreed.
“Don’t—don’t you think there is some danger in your staying here alone?” asked Dot. “Suppose Uncle Rufus should come down stairs and catch you?”
“Hullo! who’s Uncle Rufus?” asked the young man.
“Why—why, he’s Uncle Rufus. He works for us—”