MORE OF MRS. JOPLIN.
One day, at the hour of noon, the court boasting the tall residence of Mr. Grabman was startled from the quiet usually reigning there at broad daylight by the appearance of two men, evidently no inhabitants of the place. The squalid, ill-favoured denizens lounging before the doors stared hard, and at the fuller view of one of the men, most of them retreated hastily within. Then, in those houses, you might have heard a murmur of consternation and alarm. The ferret was in the burrow,—a Bow- Street officer in the court! The two men paused, looked round, and stopping before the dingy towerlike house, selected the bell which appealed to the inmates of the ground-floor, to the left. At that summons Bill the cracksman imprudently presented a full view of his countenance through his barred window; he drew it back with astonishing celerity, but not in time to escape the eye of the Bow-Street runner.
"Open the door, Bill,—there's nothing to fear; I have no summons against you, 'pon honour. You know I never deceive. Why should I? Open the door, I say."
No answer.
The officer tapped with his cane at the foul window.
"Bill, there's a gentleman who comes to you for information, and he will pay for it handsomely."
Bill again appeared at the casement, and peeped forth very cautiously through the bars.
"Bless my vitals, Mr. R——, and it is you, is it? What were you saying about paying handsomely?"
"That your evidence is wanted,—not against a pal, man. It will hurt no one, and put at least five guineas in your pocket."
"Ten guineas," said the Bow-Street officer's companion. "You be's a man of honour, Mr. R——!" said Bill, emphatically; "and I scorns to doubt you, so here goes."