"Walker!" exclaimed the man.
"You shall yourself witness the restitution," said I, unheeding his remark, "after which—"
"Well!" said he, glancing back toward his caravan, and moistening his lips as I tightened my grip upon his arm, "what about me?"
"You can go—for Lewis's sake—if you will give me your word to live honestly henceforth."
"You have it, sir—I swear it—on the Bible if you like."
"Then let us seek the owner of this purse." So, coming in a while to where the quack doctor was still holding forth—there, yet seated upon the shaft of the cart, puffing at his great pipe, was the venerable man. At sight of him the pickpocket stopped and caught my arm.
"Come, master," said he, "come, you never mean to give up all that good money—there's fifty guineas, and more, in that purse!"
"All the more reason to return it," said I.
"No, don't—don't go a-wasting good money like that—it's like throwing it away!" But shaking off the fellow's importunate hand, I approached, and saluted the venerable man.
"Sir," said I, "you have had your pocket picked."