“Where is that Trotter?”
“Job, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Gone, sir.”
“With his master, I suppose?”
“Friend or master, or whatever he is, he’s gone with him,” replied Mr. Weller. “There’s a pair on ’em, sir.”
“Jingle suspected my design, and set that fellow on you, with this story, I suppose?” said Mr. Pickwick, half choking.
“Just that, sir,” replied Mr. Weller.
“It was all false, of course?”
“All, sir,” replied Mr. Weller. “Reg’lar do, sir; artful dodge.”