“Humph!” laughed Charlie. And he shut the top of the cracker box with a bang and rose up. “You sleep over it,” he said. “You'll be hungry to-morrow morning.”
“That won't make any difference!” cried the boy.
“Maybe not,” commented the other; and then he added with a grin: “Don't you ask me for grub. For that would be charity; and if you're really one of the unfit, it's not for me to interfere with nature!”
And so all the next day Samuel sat in Charlie's room and faced the crackers and cheese and the pot of jam, and wrestled with the problem. He knew what it would mean to partake of the food, and Charlie knew what it would mean also; and feeling certain that Samuel would not partake upon any other terms, he left the covers off the food, so that the odors might assail the boy's nostrils.
Of course Samuel might have gone out and bought some food with the few pennies he had in his pocket. But that would have been merely to postpone the decision, and what was the use of that? And to make matters ten times worse, he owed money to the Stedmans—for he had lived upon the expectation of his salary!
In the end it was not so much hunger that moved him, as it was pure reason. For Samuel, as we know, was a person who took an idea seriously; and there was no answer to be found to Charlie's argument. Doubtless the reader will find a supply of them, but Samuel racked his wits in vain. If, as the learned professor had said, life is a struggle for existence, and those who have put money in their purses are the victors; and if they have nothing to do for the unemployed save to let them starve or put them in jail; then on the other hand, it would seem to be up to the unemployed to take measures for their own survival. And apparently the only proof of their fitness would be to get some money away from those who had it. Had not Herbert Spencer, the authority in such matters, stated that “inability to catch prey shows a falling short of conduct from its ideal”? And if the good people let themselves be starved to death by the wicked, would that not mean that only the wicked would be left alive? It was thoughts like this that were driving Samuel—he had Bertie Lockman's taunts ringing in his ears, and for the life of him he could not see why he should vacate the earth in favor of Bertie Lockman!
So breakfast time passed, and dinner time passed, and supper time came. And his friend spread out the contents of his larder again, and then leaned over the table and said, “Come and try it once and see how you like it!”
And Samuel clenched his hands suddenly and answered—“All right, I'll try it!”
Then he started upon a meal. But in the middle of it he stopped, and set down an untasted cracker, and gasped within himself—“Merciful Heaven! I've promised to be a burglar!”
The other was watching him narrowly. “Ain't going to back out?” he asked.