"I don't believe you, so there! You won't tell me my name, or where I came from, or anything, and you are only trying to make out my father was a thief so as to get me to turn thief, too."
"I've told you the truth, lad."
"And I repeat I don't believe you. What is more, I won't help you in your plans of robbery. I've been honest so far, and I mean to remain honest. You ought to be ashamed of yourself for trying to make me a thief."
The newsboy had risen to his feet and, as he spoke, his face glowed with earnestness. Now Sam Pepper sprang up, his features full of baffled passion.
"How dare you talk to me, you miserable pup?" he roared. "I've a good mind to thrash you well for this! Haven't I clothed and fed you for years? And this is what I git for it! I've told you the truth about yourself, only I didn't paint your father as black as I might, not wishing to hurt your feelings. He was a burglar, and before he was shot he served two sentences in prison."
"I don't believe it—and I never will," retorted Nelson, but with quivering lips. "Where was this? Tell me, and I'll soon find out if it is true."
"I won't tell you a thing more—unless you promise to help me as you should."
"I won't help you—and that's the end of it."
"You owe me something for keeping you all these years."
"I don't believe you would have kept me if you weren't paid for it."