"Walleyed it, hey?" exclaimed Mr. Shrig, "walleyed it, sir?—v'y then, 'ere it be!" and from a capacious side-pocket he produced Natty Bell's great watch, seals and all.
"Why—!" exclaimed Barnabas, staring.
"Also your purse, sir,—not forgetting the sparkler." Mr. Shrig continued, producing each article in turn.
"But—how in the world—?" began Barnabas.
"I took 'em from you v'ile you vos a-lookin' at my castor. Lord love me, a babe could ha' done it,—let alone a old 'and, like me!"
"Do you mean—?" began Barnabas, and hesitated.
"In my young days, sir," explained Mr. Shrig with his placid smile, "I vere a champion buzman, ah! and a prime rook at queering the gulls, too, but I ewentually turned honest all along of a flash, morning-sneak covess as got 'erself conwerted."
"What do you mean by a morning-sneak covess?"
"I means a area-sneak, sir, as vorks werry early in the morning. A fine 'andsome gal she vere, and vith nothing of the flash mollisher about 'er, either, though born on the streets, as ye might say, same as me. Vell, she gets con-werted, and she's alvays napping 'er bib over me,—as you'd say, piping 'er eye, d'ye see? vanting me to turn honest and be con-werted too. 'Turn honest,' says she, 'and ve'll be married ter-morrow,' says she."
"So you turned honest and married her?" said Barnabas, as Mr. Shrig paused.