“I mean he's a little likely to do it as the oldest man in the stable. How's the gov'nor to-day, ma'am?” “A good deal better, thank you,” she answered, closing the window in some fear lest her husband should have been made anxious by the news of Diamond's expedition. He knew pretty well, however, what his boy was capable of, and although not quite easy was less anxious than his mother. But as the evening drew on, the anxiety of both of them increased, and every sound of wheels made his father raise himself in his bed, and his mother peep out of the window. Diamond had resolved to go straight to the cab-stand where he was best known, and never to crawl for fear of getting annoyed by idlers. Before he got across Oxford Street, however, he was hailed by a man who wanted to catch a train, and was in too great a hurry to think about the driver. Having carried him to King's Cross in good time, and got a good fare in return, he set off again in great spirits, and reached the stand in safety. He was the first there after all. As the men arrived they all greeted him kindly, and inquired after his father. “Ain't you afraid of the old 'oss running away with you?” asked one. “No, he wouldn't run away with me,” answered Diamond. “He knows I'm getting the shillings for father. Or if he did he would only run home.” “Well, you're a plucky one, for all your girl's looks!” said the man; “and I wish ye luck.” “Thank you, sir,” said Diamond. “I'll do what I can. I came to the old place, you see, because I knew you would let me have my turn here.” In the course of the day one man did try to cut him out, but he was a stranger; and the shout the rest of them raised let him see it would not do, and made him so far ashamed besides, that he went away crawling. Once, in a block, a policeman came up to him, and asked him for his number. Diamond showed him his father's badge, saying with a smile: “Father's ill at home, and so I came out with the cab. There's no fear of me. I can drive. Besides, the old horse could go alone.” “Just as well, I daresay. You're a pair of 'em. But you are a rum 'un for a cabby--ain't you now?” said the policeman. “I don't know as I ought to let you go.” “I ain't done nothing,” said Diamond. “It's not my fault I'm no bigger. I'm big enough for my age.” “That's where it is,” said the man. “You ain't fit.” “How do you know that?” asked Diamond, with his usual smile, and turning his head like a little bird. “Why, how are you to get out of this ruck now, when it begins to move?” “Just you get up on the box,” said Diamond, “and I'll show you. There, that van's a-moving now. Jump up.” The policeman did as Diamond told him, and was soon satisfied that the little fellow could drive. “Well,” he said, as he got down again, “I don't know as I should be right to interfere. Good luck to you, my little man!” “Thank you, sir,” said Diamond, and drove away. In a few minutes a gentleman hailed him.