"Looks like it, don't it," said D. Wragg, coolly. "Only don't you make no mistake. I've had dealings in dorgs afore now, gents; and I don't think, as you'll find, I aint fledged." The young men turned as the speaker pointed towards the door, and gave quite a start as, in place of the heavy features just before the occupants of the door-frame, they saw peering in the impassive inquiring countenance of a policeman. But the next moment the constable had sauntered on, muttering first the word "rats," and after walking a few steps, "or pigeons." Harry directly recognised in him the constable who had directed them, and turning to the dealer, he said, quietly-- "My friend here is a gentleman, Mr Wragg. He gave you to understand distinctly last night that he should not employ the police." "Then what was that there Bobby a looking in for, then?" said the dealer, in an injured tone. "On my honour I don't know, unless it was from simple curiosity," replied Harry. "We asked him to direct us in a street a short distance away." "Honour bright?" said D. Wragg. "I gave you my word," said Harry, with ill-concealed contempt; and there was something so straightforward in the young man's countenance, that it immediately carried with it conviction, for the dealer brightened up, and directly thrust out a hand in token of amity. Smiling the while, Harry Clayton took it, Lionel looking on with an amused expression. "I beg your pardon, sir--I beg your pardon. Don't you make no mistake. I aint a mean, contemptible cageful of suspicion, I aint. I beg your pardon. That there's a hand as never did nothing wuss yet than help to get a gent back his dorg, so as to oblige a regular customer. Plenty of gents trust me, and comes to me when they've had their dorgs foller other people; and I acks as mejum and commissioner, and does my best for both parties." "'Pon my soul, this grows highly amusing," said Lionel, laughing. "Why, Harry, I'm right; we must have come to court. May I ask if the young lady of the house will again be visible, so as to go through the same performance?" Harry looked annoyed, and D. Wragg gave Lionel a sharp, searching sidelong glance, which the other missed. "Let's settle the business at once, gents," said D. Wragg. "Let me see, sir," he continued, jerking himself round the counter. "I'll trouble you for two fivers." "But where's the dog?" said Lionel. "Don't you make no mistake, sir. You hand over the money, and you shall have him in five minutes." Lionel hesitated for a moment, and then drew a couple of crisp notes from his pocket-book, and handed them to the dealer. "I suppose you will give me a receipt?" said Lionel.