"Old woman," responded Slung, "you better purceed to bisness, and give us none o' yer jaw. What de yer w-a-n-t? s-a-y!" The Madam seized him by the arm. "Two men have just left this house. One wears a cap,--the other, a hat. The one with the cap and cloak is the shortest of the two; and the one with a cap carries under his cloak a book, bound in red morocco, which he has just stolen from yonder desk. D'ye hear? I want you to track him and get back that book at any price; even if you have to--" "Fech him up wid dis?" and the ruffian drew a "slung-shot" from the sleeve of his right arm. "Yes, yes; anyhow, or by any means," continued the Madam; "only bring back the book before morning, and a hundred dollars are yours. D'ye hear?" "A shortish chap with a cap an' cloak," exclaimed Slung; "there's a good many shortish chaps with caps in this 'ere town, old woman." "I have it! I have it!" cried the Madam; and then she conveyed her instructions to Slung in a slow and measured voice. "Don't you think you'd know him now?" she exclaimed, when her instructions were complete. "Could pick 'im out among a thousand." And the ruffian closed one eye, and increased the boundless ugliness of his face, by an indescribable grimace. "Go then,--no time's to be lost,--a hundred dollars, you mind;" and she urged him to the door. He clutched the slung-shot and disappeared. Corkins approached and looked the Madam in the face. "The red book gone?" he asked, every line of his visage displaying astonishment and terror. "Gone," echoed the Madam, "to be sure it is. Our only hope is in that ruffian. One well-planted blow with a slung-shot, will kill the strongest man." "The red book gone!" Corkins fairly trembled with affright. Staggering like a drunken man, he managed to deposit himself in a chair. He took the gold spectacles from his nose, and wiped them, in an absent way. "Bad," he muttered. Then passing his hand from his "goatee" to his top-knot, and from top-knot to "goatee," again he muttered, "The red book gone! what will become of us?" "If it is not recovered before morning, we are done for," cried the Madam; "that's all. But this is no time for foolin'? Come, sir! stir your stumps!" She took the light and led the way up-stairs, followed by Corkins, who shook in every fiber; murmuring, at every step, "Gone! gone! The red book gone!" Entering the passage which led to the chamber of Alice, the Madam paused at the door of that chamber, and pointed to the door of the closet which (you will remember) was buried under the stairway that led to the fourth story.