Now, Isaac knew what sort of metal Jim was composed of, and did not believe in his heart of hearts that the Hooligans would ever succeed in--as they elegantly put it--"outing" him; but he fancied they might be able to hustle him and do him some serious harm, and that, Isaac decided, would just suit his book. He did not want them to murder Jim, only hurt him.
That evening the Hooligan came in again and consumed a large meal which heartened him up considerably, and filled him with a savage desire to turn his hand against some of his fellow-beings. Kicking a policeman's skull in would have formed a most delectable dessert to his repast.
As he was leaving the shop in his usual truculent manner, he found Isaac lounging on the step.
"Good evening, sir," said Isaac, smoothly.
"Evening, guv'nor."
Isaac gazed at the other craftily. "Our dear doctor has been busy to-day," he murmured.
The Hooligan spat on the pavement.
"'E's off again--just gone to Pine Court," added Isaac, carelessly.
An evil light glittered in the Hooligan's pig eyes. "Pine Court? 'Ow d'yer know?"
"Saw a kid from the court fetch him."