"Clear out, you beggar! We don't want you here," said the second boy, arrogantly.
Julius walked on indignantly.
"They insult me because I am poor," he said to himself. "I'll be rich some time, perhaps."
The possibility of becoming rich had never occurred to him before to-day; but Mr. O'Connor's words, and the fifty dollars which had been given him, made him hopeful and ambitious. He had heard that some of the rich men who owned warehouses in the great city had once been poor boys like himself. Might he not rise like them? For the first time in his life he seemed to be having a chance.
Marlowe saw him leave the boys with satisfaction. Had Julius stopped to play with them his scheme of vengeance would have been delayed, perhaps frustrated. It would not do for him to attack the boy in the presence of others. But Julius w r as walking away from the village into the interior. If he only went far enough he would be at his mercy.
What should he do to him? He might kill him, but killing is rather a dangerous game to play at in a civilized community.
"I'll take his money," thought Marlowe, "and beat him within an inch of his life. I'll teach him to betray me!"
At length Julius wandered to a spot solitary enough to suit his purpose. Strange to say, the boy had not turned, or noticed his pursuer. Marlowe was quite out of his thoughts. Who would think of finding him in this quiet scene? But he was destined to be rudely awakened from his dream of security. All at once he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Turning quickly, he saw one whom he supposed to be a sailor.
"What's wanted?" he asked.
"You're wanted."