“In a moment. So he’s in his study, is he? Making patent boots and shoes?”
“Bless your ’art, no, sir; it’s patent, but he don’t make no boots and shoes now. He buys all the very best. Look at that,” said the boy, holding out a foot.
As he spoke, Dick made his appearance behind them at the conservatory door, when, on seeing Max talking to the boy, he drew back.
“Ah, yes,” said Max, “that’s a handsome boot; and you’ve got a good foot, my lad.”
“Them’s the best boots in the trade, sir,” said the boy proudly.
“He’s going to pump him,” muttered Dick. “Well, if he plays those games, I shall do the artful too.”
“So you never feel hungry and hollow now, my man?” said Max.
“I should think not, sir. Master gave orders that I was always to have as much as I liked to eat. And I do,” he added unctuously.
“He don’t know much,” muttered Dick; “but if he gets putting old Max on the scent, I’ll smother him.”
“So you eat and drink as much as you like, do you, my man?” continued Max.