Sam turned on his friend a look as expressionless as that of a Dutch clock, and said sententiously, “I says, go in an’ win.”
“I says ditto!” thought Tommy Splint, but he meekly and wisely held his tongue.
Meanwhile the lawyer went into another room, from which, returning after a short absence, he produced a bundle of Reports which fully bore out his statement as to the flourishing condition of the Washab and Roria Railway.
“Weel, I’ll see aboot it,” said David, after a few moments’ consideration, with knitted brows. “In the meantime, sir, what have I to pay to you for yer information?”
Mr Lockhart said he had nothing to pay, and hoped he would have the pleasure of seeing him soon again.
“Noo, isn’t that a blagyird?” demanded Laidlaw, when they were again in the street.
“No doubt he is,” replied Sam; “but how will you manage to haul him up and prove that he has been swindling the old woman?”
“Hoo can I tell? Am I a lawyer? But I’ll fin’ oot somehoo.”
“Well, mate, while you are finding out,” returned the sailor, “I’ll go to Cherub Court. So, Tommy, will you go with Mr Laidlaw or with me?”
The boy looked first at one and then at the other with a curious “how-happy-could-I-be-with-either” expression on his sharp countenance, and then elected to accompany the sailor. On the way he told Sam of the “swell visitors” to the garret, whom Laidlaw had prevented him from going back to see.