Just then the man spoke.
“The fact is, father, I am hard pressed, and must have some money.”
Paul’s amazement increased. Was this burglar the son of old Jerry? He remembered now having heard Jerry refer to a son who had left him many years ago, and who had never since been heard of.
“I have no money, James,” whined the old man. “I am poor—very poor.”
“I’ve heard that talk before,” said the son, contemptuously; “and I know what it means.”
“But I am poor,” repeated old Jerry, eagerly. “I don’t get enough to eat. All I can afford is bread and water.”
“How much money have you got in the bank?” asked James.
“Wh—what makes you ask that?” asked the old man, in an agitated voice.
“Ha! I have hit the nail on the head,” said the visitor with an unpleasant laugh.
“You see how poor I am,” said the old man. “Does this poor room look as if I had money?”