straight into Bob's eyes, asked:

"Look a here, kid, you haven't run away from a good home, have you?"

The unexpectedness of this question took Bob by surprise. Under the
searching gaze of the girl's eyes, he felt just as he had when the
magistrate had glanced at him, and his voice trembled a little as he
replied:

"No! Oh, no, indeed!"

But his manner was not convincing, and the girl continued her
interrogations, but on a different tack.

"Your folks live in New York?"

"I haven't any."

"Then where have you been living?"

"With my guardian."

"What do you do?"

"I used to deliver groceries for him."

The stress Bob laid upon the word "used," led the girl to inquire:

"Did he fire you? Or what?"