The Amateur Gentleman

"Run!" cried Mr. Shrig, and away he went beside the River, holding a

tortuous course among the piles of rotting lumber, dexterously

avoiding dim-seen obstacles, yet running with a swiftness wonderful

to behold. All at once he stopped and glanced about him.

"What now?" inquired Barnabas.

"S-sh! d'ye 'ear anything, sir?"

Sure enough, from the darkness behind, came a sound there was no

mistaking, the rush and patter of pursuing feet, and the feet were

many.

"Are we to fight here?" demanded Barnabas, buttoning his coat.

"No, not yet, sir. Ah! there's Oliver--told you it vould be a fine

night. This vay, sir!" And turning to the left again, Mr. Shrig led

the way down a narrow passage. Half-way along this dim alley he

paused, and seating himself upon a dim step, fell to mopping his brow.

"A extra-special capital place, this, sir!" said he. "Bankside's

good enough for a capital job, but this is better, ah, a sight better!

Many a unfort'nate wictim has been made a corp' of, hereabouts, sir!"

"Yes," said Barnabas shivering, for the air struck chill and damp,

"but what do we do now?"

"V'y, sir, I'll tell you. Ve sit here, nice and qviet and let 'em

run on till they meet my four specials and Corporal Richard Roe,

late Grenadiers. My specials has their staves and knows how to use

'em, and the Corp has 's 'ook,--and an 'ook ain't no-vise pleasant

as a vepping. So, ven they come running back, d' ye see, theer's you

vith your stick, an' me vith my barker, an' so ve 'ave 'em front and

rear."

"But can we stop them--all?"

"Ah!" nodded Mr. Shrig, "all as the Corp 'as left of 'em. Ye see

they know me, most on 'em, and likevise they knows as v'en I pull a

barker from my cly that theer barker don't miss fire. Vot's more,

they must come as far as this passage or else drownd theirselves in

the River, vich vould save a lot o' trouble and expense, and--s-sh!"

He broke off abruptly and rose to his feet, and Barnahas saw that he

held the brass-bound pistol in his hand. Then, as they stood

listening, plain and more plain was the pad-pad of running feet that

raced up to the mouth of the alley where they stood--past it, and so

died down again. Hereupon Mr. Shrig took out his large-faced watch

and, holding it close to his eyes, nodded.

"In about vun minute they'll run up ag'in the Corp," said he,

"and a precious ugly customer they'll find him, not to mention

my specials--ve'll give 'em another two minutes." Saying which,

Mr. Shrig reseated himself upon the dim step, watch in hand. "Sir,"

he continued, "I'm sorry about your 'at--sich a werry good 'at, too!

But it 'ad to be yours or mine, and sir,--axing your pardon, but

there's a good many 'ats to be 'ad in London jest as good as yourn,

for them as can afford 'em, but theer ain't another castor like

mine--no, not in the U-nited Kingdom."