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The Boy from Slopperton.
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plated him the boy's small grey eyes peered round the four whitewashed walls, and then fixed themselves upon the barred window with such a look of concentration, that it seemed to Richard as if the little lad must be calculating the thickness and power of resistance of each iron bar with the accuracy of a mathematician.

"What's your name, my lad?" asked Richard. He had been always beloved by all his inferiors for a manner combining the stately reserve of a great king with the friendly condescension of a popular prince.

"Slosh, sir," answered the boy, bringing his grey eyes with a great effort away from the iron bars and back to Richard.

"Slosh! A curious name. Your surname, I suppose?"

"Surname and christen name too, sir. Slosh—short for Sloshy."

"But have you no surname, then?"

"No, sir; fondling, sir."

"A foundling: dear me, and you are called Sloshy! Why, that is the name of the river that runs through Slopperton."

"Yes, sir, which I was found in the mud of the river, sir, when I was only three months old, sir."

"Found in the river—were you? Poor boy—and by whom?"

"By the gent what adopted me, sir."

"And he is?" asked Richard.

"A gent connected with the police force, sir; detective———"

This one word worked a sudden change in Richard's manner. He raised himself on his elbow, looked intently at the boy, and asked, eagerly,—

"This detective, what is his name? But no," he muttered, "I did not even know the name of that man. Stay—tell me, you know perhaps some of the men in the Slopperton police force besides your adopted father?"

"I knows every man jack of 'em, sir; and a fine staff they is—a credit to their country and a happiness to theirselves."

"Do you happen to know amongst them a dumb man?" asked Richard.

"Lor', sir, that's him."

"Who?"

"Father, sir. The gent what found me and adopted me. I've got a message for you, sir, from father, and I was a-goin' to give it you, only I thought I'd look about me a little first; but stay—Oh, dear, the gentleman's took and fainted. Here," he said, running to the door and calling out in a shrill voice, "come and unlock this here place, will yer, and look alive with that lump! The gentleman's gone off into a dead faint, and there ain't so much as a drop of water to chuck over his face."

The prisoner had indeed fallen back insensible on the bed.