"Never mind that, Jerry. You'll find him an excellent master." "I know I shall, and thankful I am; for it's been a rough time with me lately, and it's refreshing to have to do for such a gent. He really is, though, the handsomest chap I ever see out of a picture, though he do make me laugh to find him such a hinfant. Think he could fight?" "I think he's brave as a lion, Jerry; and that it would be awkward for anyone who roused him up." "That's yer sort for me, sir. I call that real English." "And he'd be clever enough, if put to the test. But he's well-off, and takes life easily. You've got a good master, Jerry; and you know it." "I do, Dick Smithson; and I want him to know he's got a good servant." "Oh, he'll find that out, Jerry. Yes! you were going to say something?" "I were, sir--I mean Dick Smithson. Did you know as he was friends with your cousin?" "No, surely not!" "Fact, sir. He come to Mr Lacey's quarters this morning. I was sewing on buttons in the next room, and couldn't help hearing something about odds; and that set me up sharp, for I knows what odds mean--no one better." "But you shouldn't have listened." "I didn't, Dick Smithson; but I heered enough to show as S'Mark--I--I beg your pardon." Dick started; but he said nothing, and Jerry went on. "As your cousin's feeling his way with Mr Lacey--and, if he is, it means betting and play, and bleeding of him orful. Couldn't you give him a hint, as someone we knows ain't to be trusted?" Dick was silent for a few moments, and then said between his teeth-- "No, Jerry. Mr Lacey--if my cousin is a scoundrel--must find it out for himself." "But that seems hard," said Jerry. "It will be hard for Mark Frayne if there's anything wrong. Mr Lacey is not such a--" "Fool as he looks? that was what you was going to say. Well, I'm glad o' that." And Jerry soon after took his leave, telling Dick not to be downhearted, for things would come right. "Yes," muttered Jerry, "and the guv'nor jolly soon will find out about Mr Mark. If I was him, I'd lock up my money--and my young lady, too." CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. DICK PIPES--HIS COUSIN DANCES. A loud cough, the twinkling of Mr Wilkins' spectacles, and a peculiar clearing of the voice, which made Sergeant Brumpton, who had been hard at work making ominous sounds on the bombardon, turn his head and smile at Dick--then standing in his place waiting to begin--and making him lower his head to examine the music; for, if he had smiled there, just in front of the bandmaster, it must have been seen, and taken as an insult.