“Not of you,” said he. “But if some one else should waken.”
“No, you needn't think of that. Mamma and grandma both lock their doors at night. And papa's away.”
“Who sleeps there?” asked Samuel, pointing to the door he had been watching.
“That's papa's room,” said the child; and the other gave a great gasp of relief.
“Come,” said the little girl; and she seated herself in one of the big leather armchairs. “Now,” she continued, “tell me how you came to be a burglar.”
“I had no money,” said Samuel, “and no work.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the child; and then, “What is your work?”
“I lived on a farm all my life,” said he. “My father died and then I wanted to go to the city. I was robbed of all my money, and I was here without any friends and I couldn't find anything to do at all. I was nearly starving.”
“Why, how dreadful!” cried the other. “Why didn't you come to see papa?”
“Your father?” said he. “I didn't want to beg—”