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Updated: May 31, 2025
We were out in the street again in a few moments. I was feeling a little bewildered. "These things," I said, "are arranged pretty quickly over here." Guest nodded. "Mr. Magg," he said, "is known as well in Europe as in New York. There is no one else like him. He has been offered retainers from the Secret Service of every country in Europe, but he prefers to work on his own.
"Why we might catch a hundred, and no one would be a bit the worse for it. Here, make haste, or I shall be shouting at them, and we ought to be quiet now." "Close there, aren't we?" I said. "Yes; just through that next patch, and we shall be there." "And suppose Magg hasn't come?" "Why, we'll catch some without him." "Without the ferret?"
Our Vestry, at more ordinary periods, demands its meed of praise. Our Vestry is eminently parliamentary. Playing at Parliament is its favourite game. It is even regarded by some of its members as a chapel of ease to the House of Commons: a Little Go to be passed first. Our Vestry being assembled, Mr. Magg never begs to trouble Mr. Wigsby with a simple inquiry. He knows better than that.
That's Magglin didn't know he was here to-day." He pointed out a rough, shambling-looking young man down the great kitchen garden into which he had led me. This gentleman was in his coat, and he was apparently busy doing nothing with a hoe, upon which he rested himself, and took off a very ragged fur cap to wipe his brow as we came up, saluting us with a broad grin. "Hallo, Magg! you here?
Magg, instantly rising to retort, is received with loud cries of 'Spoke! from the Wigsby interest, and with cheers from the Magg side of the house.
The man gave me a quick glance, and shook his head. "I don't sell guns," he said. "Then will you shoot that woodpecker for me?" "Nay, I mustn't shoot, they'd say I was a poacher. I'll try and get it for you, though, only it'll be a shilling." "Can't afford more than ninepence, Magg." "Ninepence it is then; I don't want to be hard on a young gentleman."
Yesterday I cabled my refusal to accept a commission on the other side." "They sent to you?" Guest exclaimed in a low tone. Mr. Magg nodded. "A very unimportant affair," he answered. "Just a record of your movements, and to keep you shadowed until the French steamer is in next week. Unfortunately they forgot one of my unvarying rules never to accept a commission against a quondam client."
I likes mates to stick up for one another, but it ain't right to get a trampling down of the pore. Do pay me, Master Tom Mercer. It's four shillin'." "I don't owe you a penny, Magg; and you're a cheat." "Nay, sir, that I aren't. Well, pay me two on it, and I'll go on trusting you the rest." "But I'm sure I paid you everything I owed you, Magg." "Oh no, sir. That's the way with you young gents.
"But five shillings is such a lot of money for a ferret, Magg." "Lot! Well, there! It's giving of it away. Why, if I wanted such a thing, and had the chance to get such a good one as this, I'd give ten shillin' for it." "But is it a good one, Magg?" "Splendid. You come and look at it. I've got it in the tool-house in a watering-pot."
"If it was a fezzan I shouldn't bring it to you." "Why not? I should like to stuff it." "Daresay you would, my lad, but if I did that, somebody would stuff me." "Ha, ha!" laughed Mercer. "You'd look well in a glass case, Magg." "Shouldn't look well in prison," said the man, laughing. "Why, what'd become o' the Doctor's taters?" "Oh, bother the taters. I say, what about that gun, Magg?"
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