"Well, shipmate," said the latter, impatiently, "how long are you going to stand staring at me? It makes me feel bashful, not to speak of its not being over and above civil."
"What do you want?" inquired Peter, his alarm a little increased by this speech, making, at the same time, a motion as if to close the door.
"First and foremost, I should like to be invited in somewhere, where it isn't quite so public as at the street door. My business is of a private nature."
"I don't know you," said the miser, uneasily.
"Well, what's the odds if I know you?" was the careless reply. "Come, push ahead. Where do you live? Up stairs, or down stairs? I want to have a little private talk with you somewhere."
The speaker was about to cross the threshold when Peter stepped in front, as if to intercept him, and said, hurriedly, "Don't come in to-night; to-morrow will do just as well."
"By your leave," said the visitor, coolly, pushing his way in, in spite of the old man's feeble opposition. "I have already told you that I wanted to see you to-night. Didn't you hear me?"
"Thieves!" the old man half ejaculated, but was checked by the other somewhat sternly.
"No, old man, I am not a thief; but if you don't have done with your stupid charges, I may be tempted to verify your good opinion by trying my hand at a little robbery. Now lead the way to your den, wherever it is, if you know what is best for yourself."