"Of course, without the bill, considering that neither you nor I have been able to get hold of it. But didn't I raise a fiftier out of him without the bill before, and why shouldn't I do that, or double that, now?"
"Ah, why indeed?" said Mr. Griffiths, who always coincided when he did not know what else to do, and there was nothing to lose by so doing.
"You see, I thought he might down upon me with the extortion dodge, and hand me over to a bobby. But there's no bobbies where he is now; he couldn't ring the bell and send out that sleek-looking vally, and have me in Vine Street in a brace of shakes. He's down in the country ever so far away. I called at Eaton Place to-day, and they gave me his address."
"And how do you mean to get at him? Not by writin'? Don't trust your fist on paper."
"Teach your grandmother, Griffiths! How do I mean to get at him? Why, by paying one of those yellow-boys to a booking-clerk at 6.30 to-morrow morning, and going down by the Great-Western parliamentary to Torquay, which is close by the swell's place."
"And then?"
"Then I shall put up at some quiet crib, and go over the next morning and take him on the bounce--just as I did before."
"And suppose he shows fight and won't part?"
"Then I must send up a line to you, and you must get up a friendly lead, or something of that kind, and work me back to town."
"And you'll chance all that?"