“Well, I wish you’d tell me—” began Mr. Clark, wistfully.
“You wait! You see, Sam, you’re all right, but you ain’t clever; and if I was to tell you ’oo the chap is and what I’ve ’atched out, you’d try to be clever and ’elp me, and that ’ud spoil everything.”
And this was an attitude from which Mr. Dobb was not to be wooed by all the blandishments of Mr. Clark, so at last the stout sailorman, relinquished further effort, repaired to the modest lodging he had taken for himself in the town, and there retired to bed.
So soundly did he sleep as the result of the strain of detective work that it was already nearly noon when he was awakened next morning by the advent of a visitor in the form of Mr. Dobb.
“I was quite right,” announced Horace. “That gal’s sent another note to ’er young man about the way she tricked you last night. Very tickled by it, ’e was but, at the same time, ’e sees what a old nuisance you’re going to be to ’em when they wants to meet.”
“You’ve seen ’im?” asked Mr. Clark.
“I ’ave! I’ve been ’aving a long, confidential chat with ’im. But I ain’t come to talk about that now. I ’appen to know of a job what might suit you—a job as ferryman down at the ’arbour.”
“Just the one job in the world I’d really like!” cried Mr. Clark, enthusiastically. “Rowing across the river all day from a pub. on one side to a pub. on the other!”
“The pub. on this side is the ‘Flag and Pennant,’” said Horace. “The landlord there runs the ferry, and ’is ferryman is leaving to-morrow.”
“I’ll go up and ask for the job.”