“That’s it, Sam! You’ve got a nacheral gift of tact!” fawned Mr. Dobb. “You cut on back over to the town, and see if you can find ’er and learn what’s in the wind.”
“Right you are!” acquiesced Mr. Clark, very readily. “I shall want a couple of bob to stand ’er a cup of tea and so forth, though. You can only get women really chatty when they’re drinking tea. Better make it ’alf a crown, ’Orace, in case she fancies a bun or whatnot.”
A vivid light is thrown on the state of Mr. Dobb’s mind when it is mentioned that, with no more demur than a sigh and a shake of the head, he dropped two shillings into Mr. Clark’s extended palm, and silently added two threepenny pieces when that gentleman did not move at once.
“I’ll be as quick as ever I can,” promised Mr. Clark, in going. “’Ere,” he sternly warned Mr. Dobb, “don’t you go a-doing anything rash while I’m away, and give me all me trouble for nothing! Wait till I come back, at any rate!”
The envoy departed, and a couple of hours passed before his friends saw him again. Meanwhile, Mr. Tridge and Mr. Lock had devoted the interval to the benevolent purpose of cheering up Mr. Dobb, and so successful had they been that Mr. Clark, on his return, stood awhile at the threshold of the “Red Lion” tap-room to listen in amazement to the careless mirth within.
For Mr. Dobb, fully persuaded by his companions that the encounter with Miss Radling did not necessarily presage evil, had become even more eloquent than they in voicing the folly of meeting trouble half-way. And now, drawing equally on reminiscence and invention, the three were exchanging diverting anecdotes concerning occasions when alarm had proved groundless. Mr. Tridge had just concluded a droll story about a cheese in a sack, a policeman, a runaway horse, and himself, and Mr. Dobb and Mr. Lock were chuckling very heartily at the dénouement, when Mr. Clark thrust open the door of the tap-room.
“That’s right, ’Orace!” he observed, significantly. “You laugh while you can!”
At these ill-omened words, the merriment faded abruptly, and Mr. Dobb was distinctly heard to groan.
“I’ve seed ’er,” announced Mr. Clark; and advancing, patted Mr. Dobb thrice on the shoulder, very slowly, and solemnly.
“Well, then,” hotly cried Mr. Tridge, with due understanding of this action, “she’s a mink! That’s what she is—a mink!”