He denounced Kensett as an impostor, and the rival showman had a set-to in the market-place to the infinite diversion of the town’s folk; but all was of no use—the “wild man of the woods,” “the missing link,” as Kensett termed him, carried everything before him, and Barlow’s show was comparatively deserted.
“Is it possible that people could be so silly as to be taken in with such a barefaced imposture?” said one of the company.
“My dear sir,” returned Peace, “in this world are found people silly enough for anything. But it was a barefaced imposture, I admit, seeing that old Jemmy’s face had been shorn of its hair.”
“Och, by the powers!” cried Macarty, “people like to be humbugged and imposed upon. Bedad it was a mighty clane thrick, and desarved to sucsade.”
The good folks in the parlour of the “Blue Dolphin” had perhaps never in their whole lives learned so much about the doings of showmen, and, as a natural consequence, the evening passed away pleasantly enough.
After some further conversation the party broke up, and Peace and Mr. Macarty repaired to their respective rooms.
Our hero, upon first entering the house, had requested to be shown into the bedroom he was to occupy, saying that he wished to have a wash; his real object, however, was to secrete the bag containing the valuables he had purloined in some quiet corner.
He found in the room a chest of drawers, most of which were empty; into one of these he placed his bag, then he closed the drawer, locked it, and put the key in his pocket.
When this had been done he felt tolerably secure. It was not likely that any person would break open the drawer for the purpose of inspecting the contents of his bag.
He therefore returned to the public room, where he passed the evening in the convivial manner already described.