"And you'll bring the lads back, and not play no fool about them no more? They're my lads, and you has treated me shameful in the matter. But you'll bring 'em back, to be under the shelter of their honest father's roof? You understand--I'll do nought about finding Dent unless you comes back here--you and them boys." Bet's face was convulsed for a moment. "They shall come back," she said, then--"that's the 'greement: me and them living here as of old, and Will let out of his prison." "And there'll be no talk of your marrying yourself to the thief? I'll do nought ef you give me that feller as a son-in-law. I'd rather a sight leave him in prison--why, Bet, how white you air--I wouldn't be doing my dooty as a father ef I seed you a flinging of your 'andsome self away on a thief feller." Granger was right when he said Bet's face had grown white. Her long fast, all the anguish and agitation she had undergone, and now this terrible last clause in the agreement she was making with her father, proved too much for her. She did not faint, as she had done in the morning; but she was absolutely incapable of replying. Her lips opened, it is true, but no articulate sound came from them. "I'm a bit weak," she managed to gasp at last; "I han't eaten nought to-day." Granger fetched her a little water, and then volunteered to go out to bring in bread and tea. He was still considerably puzzled and annoyed at Bet's knowledge of his doings; but he was glad to have the girl and the boys once more in his power, and had great faith in Dent's diplomacy. Dent would soon settle things, and Bet should be his wife as quickly as the license could be purchased. CHAPTER XX. The police were searching everywhere for a sailor called Dent. They set detectives to work, and had little doubt that long before the week had expired for which Will had been remanded they would find their man, and establish the truth, or otherwise, of Will's story. When it commenced it seemed quite an easy search; but the days flew quickly, and neither about the docks, nor loafing round the quays, could anyone least bearing Isaac Dent's description be found. His name was not on any ship's log, and the police came to the conclusion that Liverpool really did not contain him. They advertised--they even offered rewards for the slightest information; but no clue could they obtain. On the seventh day of Will's captivity they gave the matter up as a bad job, and said that the sailor Dent was not in the city. They were mistaken. Dent had never left his native shores. He was not particular as to his quarters--he was clever at disguising himself; and as there are in Liverpool courts and slums into which no policeman cares to venture, it was not very difficult for Dent to elude these worthies. Granger, however, had found him out, and Granger and he had many colloquies, but not in a place where Mother Bunch could overhear.