“Well, young fellow, picked any pockets lately?”
The boy scowled at him inquisitively.
“All right,” said Mr Medlock. “I never said you had. I’m not going to take you to the police-station, I’m going to give you half a crown.”
This put a new aspect on the situation. Love brightened up as he watched Mr Medlock’s hand dive into his pocket.
“What should you do with a half-crown if you had it?”
“Do? I know, and no error. I’d get the Noogate Calendar, that’s what I’d do.”
“You can read, then?”
“Ray-ther; oh no, not me.”
“Can you read writing?”
“In corse.”