“Tell him you’re busy, and he’d better come again.”
“I’m busy, I say,” cried Coote; “come again.”
“No, thank you,” said Mr Webster, stepping before the boys. “Ah! good day to you, Mr Heathcote; quite a stranger, sir. If you’ll allow me, I would like a word with your friend?”
“You know you’ll get in a row, Webster, if you’re seen up here,” said Heathcote. “All the shop fellows have to stop at the gate.”
Having delivered which piece of friendly caution, Georgie walked on, leaving Coote and the bookseller tête-à-tête.
“What do you want?” asked Coote.
“Come, none of your tricks with me, young fellow! I want that pencil-case, there!”
“Pencil-case! What pencil-case? I’ve not got any pencil-case!” said Coote.
Mr Webster had expected this; he would have been a trifle disappointed had the criminal pleaded guilty at once.
“Do you suppose I didn’t see you with it in your hand in my shop, sir, this morning?” said he.