"Yes, but not here. He'll lie low in the town; I'm going to get a lodging for him. Stirring times, Tinman—eh?"
He got up, and strode about the room, rubbing his hands and laughing; I did not dare ask what was going to happen. Presently he stopped, and faced me as I knelt beside a portmanteau. "Look up at me, Tinman, and speak the truth, if you can. You saw that young man downstairs just now?"
I nodded slowly. "I saw him coming up to the house," I replied truthfully; "he asked who I was, and whether you had arrived."
"Ever seen him before?" he demanded. "Look up at me; I want no lies."
I looked up at him, but I lied nevertheless. "Never," I replied steadily.
"The young fool thinks he's in love with the girl, and believes that she's in love with him. It's all right while he thinks so; but I don't mean to have any nonsense. He's another one to be watched, Tinman; if by any chance you should discover them meeting, or whispering together, or any such nonsense as that—let me know. Do you hear?" He kicked me softly on the leg as he asked the question.
"I hear," I replied.
"Very well then—see that you do it. And don't forget, at all times when you may be tempted to do anything against my interests, that I've taken you out of the gutter, and that I'll kick you back there again, to starve, if you don't behave yourself. I don't do dirty work myself; I employ men like you to do it for me. Understand that?" He kicked me softly again, and laughed.
"Yes, I understand," I replied.
"Good. See that you remember it," he retorted. "Understand also that in this house I do as I like, and that my word is law. Above all things, be meek and humble with me, Tinman; I want no fiery words or looks from you. Your fiery youth is gone past, and is done with."