Short, coarse, and utterly lacking in every element of refinement, Joey
Eccles was a typical hobo. But Mortlake's shrewd mind had seen where he
could make use of him, too, in the diabolical plan he was concocting, and
the details of which he had just finished confiding to his unsavory
lieutenants.
"But say, guv'ner," struck in Joey Eccles, his little pig-like eyes agleam
with cupidity, "we've got to have a bit more of the brass, you know--a
little more money--eh?"
He ended in an insinuating whine, the cringing plea of the professional
beggar.
Mortlake made a gesture of impatience.
"I gave you fellows a twenty-dollar-bill a few days ago," he said, "in
addition to that, you've been provided with clothes and lodging. What more
do you want?"
"We've got to have some more coin, that's flat," announced Slim decidedly;
"come on, fork over, guv'ner. You've gone too far into this now to pull
out."
Mortlake's florid face went white. As if he heard it for the first time,
the words struck home. He had indeed "gone too far," as the tramp sitting
opposite to him had said. He was, in fact, completely in the power of
these two unscrupulous mendicants. Making a resolve to get rid of them as
speedily as possible, he dived into his breast pocket and drew from it a
roll of bills that made Slim's and Joey's eyes stick out of their heads.
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