So his guide pointed out Cambridge, Chelsea, Malden, the Charles and Mystic Rivers, gleaming in the sunshine, the glittering dome of the Boston State House and other conspicuous objects. Herbert felt that it was worth something to have a companion who could do him this service, and he felt the extra twenty cents he had paid for his companion's ticket was a judicious investment.
He noticed with some surprise that his companion seemed annoyed by the presence of the other party already referred to. He scowled and shrugged his shoulders when he looked at them, and in a low voice, inaudible to those of whom he spoke, he said to Herbert: “Are they going to stay here all day?”
“What does it matter to me if they do?” returned Herbert, in surprise.
Indeed, to him they seemed very pleasant people, and he was especially attracted by the sweet face of the little girl. He wished he had been fortunate enough to possess such a sister.
At last, however, they finished their sightseeing, and prepared to descend. Herbert's companion waited till the sound of their descending steps died away, and then, turning to Herbert, said in a quick, stern tone: “Now give me the money you have in your pocket.”
“What do you mean?” he said.
Herbert recoiled, and stared at the speaker in undisguised astonishment.
“I mean just what I say,” returned the other. “You have one hundred and fifty dollars in your pocket. You need not deny it, for I saw you draw it from the bank and put it away.”
“Are you a thief, then?” demanded Herbert.
“No matter what I am, I must have that money,” said the stranger. “I came over with you exclusively to get it, and I mean business.”