"He isn't my father."

"You see how undootiful he is," said Martin. "He won't own me."

"We'll teach him to be more dutiful before we get through with him,"
said Smith.

"Mr. Smith," said Rufus, "I'm not here of my own accord. I dare say you
know that. But as long as I am here, I'd like to ask you if you know
anything about a tin box that was taken from me the other day by Mr.
Martin."

"By your father?"

"By Mr. Martin," said Rufus, determined not to admit the relationship.

"What should I know about it?"

"Mr. Martin tells me that, though he took it, somebody else set him to
do it. I thought you might be the one."

"Did you say that?" demanded Smith, looking angrily at Martin.

"I was only foolin'," returned Martin, who began to think he had made a
blunder.

"It's my belief that you're a fool," retorted Smith. "You'd better be
careful what you tell your son. Young man," turning to Rufus, "as to the
tin box you speak of, I can tell you nothing. Your father says that he
has recovered some property which you stole from him a while since, and
I suppose that may be the tin box you refer to."

"That isn't true. It belonged to Mr. Turner, my employer, or rather to a
customer of his."

"That's nothing to me. Mr. Martin boards with me, and as long as he pays
for his board I don't want to pry into his affairs. If he has taken a
tin box from you, I presume he had a better right to it than you had.
Are you going to bring your son down to dinner, Mr. Martin?"

"I guess he'd better eat his victuals up here," said Martin.

"Just as you say. I can send Humpy with them. We shall have dinner in
about an hour."

"All right; I'll go down now if my dootiful son can spare me."

As Rufus did not urge him to stay, Martin left the room with Smith,
taking care to lock the door after him.

"What's the boy's name?" asked Smith, abruptly.

"Rufus."

"He's smart. I can tell that by his looks."

"Ye-es, he's smart enough," said Martin, hesitatingly; "but he's as
obstinate as a pig."

"Likes to have his own way, eh?"

"That's what he does."

"He'd make a good boy for our business," said Smith, musingly.

Martin shook his head.

"It wouldn't do," he said.

"Why not?"

"He wants to be honest," said Martin, contemptuously. "We couldn't trust
him."

"Then there's only one thing to do."

"What's that?"

"We must keep him close. We mustn't on any account allow him to escape."

"I'll look after that," said Mart