And, with a stagger which threatened a fall, he left the cars, and disappeared round the corner. As he did so, he drew a ponderous key from his pocket, and holding it up between his eye and an adjacent lamp, regarded it closely, then burst into a laugh: "I'll have some fun with this yet, I reckon; I'll teach the governor to forbid my having any of the keys. By the gods! I'll bring him round with this, or die in the attempt," soliloquized Mr. Clinton, swinging the key between his thumb and finger. "By-the-by," he added, suddenly thrusting it deep into a side-pocket, "I'll just stroll down Chartres-street, and see what the boys'll do when they find it out." Mr. Clinton was evidently perfectly sober. Whistling a tune thoughtfully, as he went, he reached Camp-street; when, taking the shady side, he struck into a run, which pace he kept up until he had crossed Canal, then he assumed a slow, careless walk; and as the moon had now risen, the lamps had been put out, and one side of Chartres-street lay in deep shadow. To this side he kept, and when he had arrived nearly opposite Delancey's store, he stepped back into an archway, and remained quiet. In a few moments he heard the voices of his late companions, and saw them coming down the other side of the street, leaning upon each other, and both evidently fully affected by the liquor they had imbibed. As Charley gained the door, he sustained himself by holding with his left hand upon the door-post, while with the right he applied a small steel key to the key-hole. "Why the devil don't it fit? Lend a hand here, Pratt, and see what you can do." Arthur had seated himself upon the step, and sat with his head leaning on his hand, but he rose at Charley's bidding, and took the key. "Why don't it fit?" said he, after looking at it a moment, intently. "Well, the reason is my trunk key don't fit this door, and I'd like to know how you came by it." "Your trunk key! well, where's the other? _Your_ trunk key! _I_ guess so! Well, here's one that will fit," and he drew out a brass house-door key, and shufflingly applied it to the lock. "Devil! wrong again. Pratt, stand up here, and help me." "We'll never get in at this rate, Charley." "I'll give you a lodging, if that's what you're after," said a voice near them, and a hand fell heavily on a shoulder of each. "Nabbed, by gripes!" cried Quirk, suddenly turning round. "But just look here, old feller, I'd like to know [hic] what for you arrest a couple--of gen'l'men for--as is decently [hic] to go home to bed." "Breaking into a store is a new way of going to bed. You're my prisoners; so march along with you." "Do you take us for thieves," said Arthur, startled into soberness; "we belong there, and were trying to use our pass-key." "Let's see your pass-key, then." "It's lost! I can find it neither in my own nor my companion's pockets." "Good story, but won't go down, so trot along."