"Bingley, sir."
"Ah, yes; Bingley. Well, Mr. Bingley, pray go on. Did you not say that another attempt was to be made on my grandson?"
Bingley nodded. "To-night after he comes from the Association rooms," he added.
"We shall see—we shall see," exclaimed the old gentleman drily, in a manner that delighted Bingley and made him tingle all over to "be in at the death" himself.
"Dobbs has planned it to"—
"Dobbs?" interrupted the old gentleman sharply, "what family? Not the
Ingoldsby Dobbs, I trust"—
"This chap's name is Ingoldsby Dobbs," said Bingley; "he's a high-flyer,
I tell you! Lives up to his name, I suppose he thinks."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," mourned Mr. King; "I have known his father ever since we were boys; he's capital stock. Well, go on, Mr. Bingley, and let me know what this young rascal is up to," he added, with extreme irritation.
"He is going to have his men close in on Joe in the middle of the park. Pepper often comes that way to 'Old Brick'—short, you know, for 'Old Brick Dormitory'—with a poor miserable cuss—excuse me, sir—he's trying to get up on to sober legs. There are twenty fellows pledged to do the job, I've found out."
Bingley didn't think it worth while to mention how the plan was discovered, nor that heavy vengeance was vowed upon his head if he divulged it.