“Aye, that it was.” “How did you manage to get away?” “I gave ’em the double,” returned the tinker, with a grin. “I’ll tell yer all about it another time, if so be ye’re interested in a miserable bloke like me, which aint at all likely, seeing as how yer a-keeping company with the hupper classes.” There was a tone of irony in the man’s manner which jarred upon the feelings of Peace, who, however, thought it best to take no notice of it. “We’d better have something to drink first, and then I can hear what you have to say,” remarked Peace, as he touched the bell. Glasses of grog were ordered and promptly served. Peace paid for the liquor, and gave the potman a shilling as a gratuity. “Here’s to our noble selves,” said the tinker, raising his glass to his lips. “Ah, that does a cove a world o’ good!” “Well, now, then, we’ll proceed to business,” observed Peace. “You’re hard up.” “I’m done up――bust up, and ha’ been pretty nigh starving. That’s how I am, and seeing as how I aint got bite nor sup――same what we’ve jest now had in――I’ve made so bold as to lay my case afore one who won’t send me away empty-handed――leastways not if he ’ave the means to hold a ’elping ’and to a pal vot’s in distress.” “I’m in no very good position myself, but whatever I can spare you are welcome to.” “Blessed if I didn’t say so. I know’d it――vot yer can do you vill do.” “Yes, here’s a quid for your immediate wants. It’s all I can spare now, for I must tell you I’ve cut the old game――don’t intend to have any more of it.” “Oh, goin’ to do the respectable, eh?” said Cooney, with a very low whistle. “That’s yer game, is it?” “Yes, I am at work now at my old business, and to that I intend to stick. No more night work for me――it’s a deal too risky.” “Vell, perhaps you are right. But I say, old boy, can you spare another quid?” “Yes, provided you leave the town and don’t bother me any more.” “Oh, ye’ve no call to be afeard. I aint a-goin’ to stay in this here place――not if I know it.” “Good――then here’s the other.” “Thanks――you’re a good fellow Charlie, arter all, but I ’spose yer’ll be glad to get shut o’ me――eh? Here the speaker winked his eye. “Well, you see we are on a different lay now.” “Right yer are, old man. Vell, there, I aint a-goin’ to bother yer; so make yer mind easy on that score, but the old un, Charlie, it’s duced hard lines wi’ him.” “Ah, he’s charged with murder――is he not?” “Sartin shure he is.” “How came that about?” “I’ll tell yer. Yer see, the Badger, some years ago, cracked a crib in the country, and, as ill luck would ha’ it, jest as he vos a-making off with the swag who should cross his path but the blessed old fool hisself. He’d up an’ give him one for hisself. A young man as vos a-keeping company vith the servant rushes forward and ketches ’old o’ Gregson. Vell, there the two vere struggling like anythink on the grass plat, and Gregson couldn’t get away not no how, although he tried his utmost.” “Couldn’t get away?”