"I'll take the money," said her stepfather, "and you can get some more when the next boat comes in. I'm goin' away a few minutes," he proceeded; "but you must stay here just where you are, and keep on just as if I was here. I won't be gone long. If I find you haven't done nothing when I come back, look out for yourself."
James Martin had reflected that the thirty-five cents would be sufficient to get him a drink and a couple of cigars, and it was to obtain these that he went away. He found it rather dull work, standing on the sidewalk and watching Rose, and he thought that by inspiring her with a little wholesome fear, she would go on just as well in his absence. Still it might be as well to encourage her a little.
"If you're a good gal," he proceeded, in a changed tone, "and get a lot of money, I'll buy you some candy when we go home."
This, however, did not cheer Rose much. She would much prefer to go without the candy, if she might be relieved from her present disagreeable employment.
If Mr. Martin had been aware that among the passengers on the next boat were Rough and Ready and Ben Gibson, he would scarcely have felt so safe in leaving Rose behind. Such, however, was the case. While Rose was plunged in sorrowful thought, filled with shame at the thought of her employment, deliverance was near at hand.
The boat came in, and she felt compelled to resume her appeal.
"Give me a few pennies for my poor sick mother," she said, holding out her hand.
"Where is your poor sick mother?" asked the person addressed.
"She's dead," said Rose, forgetting herself.
"That's what I thought," he answered, laughing, and passed on, of course without giving anything.