"They didn't see you come in here?" asked the old man, alarmed.
"No, I have given them the slip. But they'll have me unless you help me."
"My son, I'll do what I can. What is your plan?"
"To disguise myself so that my own mother wouldn't know me. See what you can do for me."
My reader will now understand the character of the old man's business. Thieves, and others who had rendered themselves amenable to the law, came to him for disguises, paying heavily for the use of what articles he supplied them. In many cases he was obliged to give them credit, but the old adage, "There is honor among thieves," was exemplified here, for he seldom failed, sooner or later, to receive full payment. It might be, and probably was, from motives of policy that his customers were so honorable; for if unfaithful to their agreements they could hardly expect to be accommodated a second time, and this was a serious consideration.
When appealed to by Marlowe, Jacob understood that the details of the disguise were left to his judgment. He raised his candle, and took a good look at his customer. Then he dove under a heap of clothing on the floor, and fished out a dirty sailor's dress. "Try it on," he said.
"I don't know about that," said Marlowe, hesitating. "I don't know any sailor's lingo."
"That's no matter. You can say, 'shiver 'my timbers,' can't you?"
"Yes, I can do that."
"That's enough. It's all I know myself. But it won't do any harm to pick up something else; the police won't never think of you as a sailor."