younger of whom she still had to carry. When she was gone Mr. Bartley assumed a peculiar attitude and began to speak in an undertone.
“You know that medal as you gave me the other night?”
“What about it?”
“I sold it for fourpence to a chap I know. It got me a bed at the lodgings in Pentonville Road.”
“Oh, you did! Well, what else?”
Jack was writhing in the most unaccountable way, peering hither and thither out of the corners of his eyes, seeming to have an obstruction in his throat.
“It was in a public-house as I sold it,—a chap I know. There was another chap as I didn’t know standing just by,—see? He kep’ looking at the medal, and he kep’ looking at me. When I went out, the chap as I didn’t know followed behind me. I didn’t see him at fu’st, but he come up with me just at the top of Rosoman Street,—a red-haired chap, looked like a corster. ‘Hollo!’ says he. ‘Hollo!’ says I. ‘Got any more o’ them
