The Amateur Gentleman

"Why, do you mean to say," said Barnabas, staring at the mild-faced

man, "do you want me to believe that it was the sight of you that

sent them running?"

"Vell, there veren't nobody else to, as I could see, sir," said the

man, with a gentle smile and shake of the head. "Volks ain't partial

to me in these yere parts, and as to them three, they're a bad lot,

they are, but Vistlin' Dick's the vorst--mark my vords, 'e'll come to

be topped yet."

"What do you mean by 'topped'?"

"V'y, I means scragged, sir," answered the man, his roving eye

glancing continually up and down the alley, "I means 'anged, sir,--Lord love you, it's in 'is face--never see a

more promising mug, consequent, I 've got Vistlin' Dick down in my

little book 'ere, along vith a lot of other promising vuns."

"But why in your book?"

"Veil, d' ye see, I keeps a record of all the likely coves, Capital

Coves as you might call 'em--" Here the mild man jerked his head

convulsively to one side, rolled up his eyes, and protruded his

tongue, all in hideous pantomime, and was immediately his placid

self again.

"Ah! you mean--hanged?" said Barnabas.

"As ever vas, sir, capital punishment. And I goes round reg'lar jest

to keep an eye on my capital coves. Lord! I vatches over 'em

all--like a feyther. Theer's some volks as collects books, an' some

volks as collects picters an' old coins, but I collects capital

coves,--names and faces. The faces I keeps 'ere," and he tapped his

placid forehead, "the names I keeps 'ere," and he tapped the little

book. "It's my trade d' ye see, and though there's better trades,

still there's trades as is vorse, an' that's summat, ain't it?"

"And what might your trade be?" inquired Barnabas, as they walked on

together along the narrow alley.

"Veil, sir, I'm vot they calls a bashaw of the pigs--but I'm more

than that."

"Pray," said Barnabas, "what do you mean?" For answer the man smiled,

and half drew from his pocket a short staff surmounted by a crown.

"Ah!" said Barnabas, "a Bow Street Runner?"

"And my name is Shrig, sir, Jasper Shrig. You'll have heard it afore,

o'course."

"No!" said Barnabas. Mr. Shrig seemed placidly surprised, and vented

a gentle sigh.

"It's pretty vell known, in London, sir, though it ain't a pretty

name, I'll allow. Ye-es, I've 'eard prettier, but then it's better

than a good many, and that's sum-mat, ain't it? And then, as I said

afore, it's pretty vell known."

"How so?"

"Vell, sir, there be some as 'as a leanin' to one branch o' the

profession, and some to another,--now mine's murders."

"Murders?" said Barnabas, staring.

"Vith a werry big M., sir. V'y, Lord love you, there's been more

murderers took and topped through me than any o' the other traps in

London, it's a nat'ral gift vith me. Ye see, I collects 'em--afore

the fact, as ye might say. I can smell 'em out, feel 'em out, taste

'em out, it's jest a nat'ral gift."