"
Snipes had stopped fanning the old man, as he ran on, and was
listening intently, with an uncomfortable feeling of sympathy and
sorrow, uncomfortable because he was not used to it.
He could not see why the old man should think the city should have
treated his boy better because he had taken care of the city's
children, and he was puzzled between his allegiance to the gang and
his desire to help the gang's innocent victim, and then because he was
an innocent victim and not a "customer," he let his sympathy get the
better of his discretion.
"Saay," he began, abruptly, "I'm not sayin' nothin' to nobody, and
nobody's sayin' nothin' to me--see? but I guess your son'll be around
here to-day, sure. He's got to come before one, for this office closes
sharp at one, and we goes home. Now, I've got the call whether he gets
his stuff taken off him or whether the boys leave him alone. If I say
the word, they'd no more come near him than if he had the cholera--
see? An' I'll say it for this oncet, just for you. Hold on," he
commanded, as the old man raised his voice in surprised interrogation,
"don't ask no questions, 'cause you won't get no answers 'except lies.
You find your way back to the Grand Central Depot and wait there, and
I'll steer your son down to you, sure, as soon as I can find him--see?
Now get along, or you'll get me inter trouble.
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