up, my face blazing, and stared at him. He'd got me to hand over
to the cop, but he hadn't got me to sneer at.

I saw by the look he gave me, that he hadn't really seen me till
then.

"Well," he answered, "what the devil is there to be ashamed of
now?"

"Of being caught--that's what."

"Oh!"

He tilted back again on his chair and laughed softly.

"Then you're not ashamed of your profession?"

"Are you of yours?"

"Well--there's a slight difference."

"Not much, whatever it may be. It's your graft--it's
everybody's--to take all he can get, and keep out of jail. That's
mine, too."

"But you see I keep out of jail."

"I see you're not there--yet."

"Oh, I think you needn't worry about that. I'll keep out, thank