“Oh, well, I suppose you did, Master Waller. Beg pardon! Don’t be waxy with me, lad.”
“Here, tell me who is likely to know.”
“Why, Joe Hanson, like as anybody, I should say. If I had bin him I know I should soon have had the forty-round apple ladder up agen your window to see what you were about.”
“Anyone else?” cried Waller.
“Ay. Old Fatty Gusset, as aforesaid; old cobbler!”
“But you haven’t dropped a hint, Bunny?”
“Dropped a hint! Na-ay! I’d sooner drop his old lapstone on his toe.”
“Look here, Bunny!” cried Waller, catching the man by the wrist, while an inquisitive-looking robin hopped nearer to them from twig to twig, and sat watching them both with its bright, bead-like eyes.
“Look wheer, my lad?”
“Look here! You don’t want fifty pounds.”