There weren't many lazy hands on New York's cold streets. There wasn't much wealth to reach for either. Gilbert and Alec, a friendship of brothers between them, knew that. They'd seen the shivers at the children's home, the tears of poverty in the caretaker's eyes, the disintegration of hope. They'd seen it and they scraped by just like everyone else. Until they stumbled into hidden wealth and hustled out of town with it under their arms.
It takes money to make money. Well, they had it then. Stuffed down the front of their shirts. But they didn't need a cent of it.
Diligent hands bring wealth; a wealth they'd see march right back along the road they came on.