Arrived at the corner of Drury Lane, he hesitated, looking round helplessly, as if he were not sure of his way. Immediately opposite, a large efficient-looking ironmonger's shop presented a plain, well-kept, familiar face….
Anthony stared at it with a dropped jaw.
The errand-boy, who had found his demeanour promising, and had been loitering in the hope of developments, took up a good position in the gutter and fairly drank Lyveden in. Almost at once another of his species joined him.
After a prolonged stare—
"Wot's 'e doin' of?" said the new-comer. "Sayin' 'is prares?"
The other sniggered.
The noise aroused Anthony. With an effort he straightened himself….
Then he walked unsteadily across the street and into the shop.
The manager came forward.
"Have those mattocks come in?"
For a second the man peered at him. Then—