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"
"I am filled with desire to breathe awhile the salubrious air of Hell's
Kitchen; will you take me?" Now as he spoke, beholding the boy's staring
amaze, Mr. Ravenslee's frowning brows relaxed, his firm, clean-shaven
lips quivered, and all at once curved up into a smile of singular
sweetness--a smile before which the hopelessness and fear died out of
the boy's long-lashed eyes, his whole strained attitude vanished, and he
smiled also--though perhaps a little tremulously.
"Will you take me, Spike?"
"You bet I will!" exclaimed the boy, his blue eyes shining, "and I'll do
my best to show you I--I ain't so bad as I--as I seem--an' we'll shake
on it if you like." And Spike advanced with his hand outstretched, then
paused, suddenly abashed, and drooping his head, turned away. "I--I
forgot," he muttered, "--I'm--you said I was a--thief!"
"You meant to be!" said Mr. Ravenslee, and rising, he stretched himself
and glanced at his watch.
"Are you coming wi' me, sir?" enquired Spike, regarding Mr. Ravenslee's
length and breadth with quick, appraising eyes.


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