“As you consider right and proper, young sir,” bowed the man, very humbly. “I hassure you as ’ow it is a pleasure to be hable to protect the hinnocent from the wultures who try to pluck them. That is reward henough for ’Arry ’Awkins, of Deptford.”
Frank was forced to laugh.
“I must say you are very modest in your demands.”
“Modesty is one of my chief wirtooes, sir. If I were not so werry modest I might be a rich man now.”
“You might, if you escaped prison; but you would have to take desperate chances on that.”
“And is this the way you thanks me for saving your pin, sir!” came reproachfully from Mr. ’Awkins. “Well,” he sighed, “it is hoften thus.”
He pretended to wipe some moisture from the corner of his eye with a high-colored handkerchief. He was in no hurry about leaving, and it seemed plain that he still lingered with the hope of receiving something for his “honesty.”
“If you would give me your haddress, young sir, I might be hinduced to call at your rooms to-morrow,” he said. “It may be as ’ow you will look at this matter in a werry different light hafter a bit, sir.”
“I scarcely think it is probable, and you may save yourself the trouble of calling on me. Good-day, Mr. ’Awkins.”
“Good-day, sir,” said the man from Deptford, but he did not make a move to go.