"Umph!" said Mr. Blemish. "He looks like it. But thank you, policeman," this with a stately affability, "I do not think you will be wanted."
Whereupon the policeman touched his hat again, and vanished, determining, however, to keep an eye upon Grif, and find out what he was up to.
"Come this way," said Mr. Blemish to Grif, who, considerably astonished that he had not been given into custody, followed the great man into his private room. There he found himself in the presence of two other gentlemen, Mr. Matthew Nuttall, and Mr. David Dibbs. Mr. Nuttall was sitting at a table, writing, and his face was hidden from Grif. "Now, then," said Mr. Blemish, when Grif had disposed himself before the great merchant like a criminal; "what do you mean by coming into my place of business?"
"I wants a sitiwation as a errand boy," immediately replied Grif.
"The policeman says you are a thief," interrogated Mr. Blemish; "what do you say to that?"
"Nothin'," replied Grif, shortly.
"You are a thief, then?"
"No, I ain't," said Grif: "I'm honest, now," and he blushed with shame as he made the confession.
"Oh, you are honest now," Mr. Blemish observed, with a slight dash of sarcasm. "Since when has that occurred?"
"Since this mornin'; this is my first day at it."