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Shrig, others glancing back over their shoulders towards the dimness behind, whence came a shrill whistle and the noise of pursuit. "Ah, you may look!" cried Mr. Shrig, "but I've got ye, my lambs all on ye! You, Bunty Fagan, and Dancing Jimmy, I know you, and you know me, so stand all on ye. The first man as moves I'll shoot stone dead, and v'en I says a thing I "
"Right as ninepence, sir!" exclaimed Mr. Shrig, beaming cheerily as he clambered up beside me. "My birds 'as flew this vay, sure enough!"
Shrig with his guileless smile, and puffing out a cloud of smoke and watching it vanish ceilingwards, "because I 'appen to know 'oo did." "Oh!" said Barnabas more thoughtfully than ever. "And who do you think it is?" "Vell, sir," answered Mr. "And when will that be?" "Jest so soon as my leg sarves me, sir, say a veek, say, two." "You're in no hurry then?" "Lord, no, sir, I'm never in an 'urry."
Shrig?" inquired Barnabas as they crossed Blackfriars Bridge. "Because I'm vorking out a problem, sir. For some time I've been trying to add two and two together, and now I'm droring my conclusions. So you know Old Nick the cobbler, do you, sir?" "I didn't an hour ago." "Sir, when you vos in his shop, I took the liberty o' peeping in at the winder." "Indeed?" "And I seen that theer 'andsome gal."
Half-way down the passage Mr. Shrig halted abruptly and turned, as the first of their pursuers appeared. "This'll do!" he panted, swinging the nobbly stick in his hand, "can't come on more nor two at vunce. Be ready vith your stick at their eyes poke at 'em no 'itting " the rest was drowned in the echoing rush of heavy feet and the boom of hoarse voices.
And if ever you want a man at your back I'm your man, and v'en not me there's my pal Dick, ain't there, Di " Mr. Shrig stopped suddenly and stood with his head to one side as one that listens. And thus, upon the stillness came the sound of one who strode along the narrow passage-way outside, whistling as he went. "'Sally in our Alley, I think?" said Mr. Shrig. "Yes," said Barnabas, wondering.
However, you may as well bring your pistols, mine are at the gun-smith's. Yours always, "So you see, sir," sighed Mr. Shrig, as he put away the little book, "my case is spiled, can't come off, mustn't come off! For if young B. is Number Vun, the murderer, and C. is Number Two, the accessory afore the fact, v'y then Number Three, the unfort'nate wictim is you, sir, you! And you " said Mr.
Shrig, I should like to shake your hand," said I. "'Eartily an' vith a vill, sir!" he answered. "You see, I loved and honoured him also, Mr. Shrig." "Verefore an' therefore, sir, I make bold to ask if you're partic'ler busy to-day?" "I am here to meet a friend and then I am for the country." "Tonbridge vay, sir?" "Yes, why do you ask?"
"Thank you," said Barnabas, smiling again, "but it's too small, you see." "That's a pity!" sighed Mr. Shrig, "still, if it von't go on, it von't. Now, as to a vepping?" "I have my stick," said Barnabas, holding it up. Mr. Shrig took it, balanced it in his grasp and passed it back with a nod of approval.
Shrig, beginning to finger his ear again, "unfort'nate wictims is born to be vell, let's say unfort'nate. You can't 'elp 'em being born wictims. I can't 'elp it, nobody can't, for natur' vill 'ave 'er own vay, sir, and I ain't vun to go agin natur' nor yet to spile a good case, good cases is few enough. Oh, life ain't all lavender, as I said afore, burn my neck if it is!" And here Mr.
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